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reanimatedandmedicated · 1 month

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various updates and facts about my family

my mother huffed raid bug spray and ate wallpaper paste as a child. my grandfather believes my autistic sibling is an alien and is asking him to provide the winning lottery numbers. my sister tried to kill her boyfriend recently.

My dad is getting married to his seventh wife.

And my little brother (J) is smelting pawn shop jewelry in efforts to make silver bullets to load in .22 casings

My grandfather swears he was abducted by aliens and they modified his cum.

In 2009, he attempted to trade firearms for an alleged crystal skull which he believed contained the blueprints to rebuild Atlantis.

In 2012, my family created a convey of six cars all loaded with guns, ammo, canned food, etc. in order to prepare for the apocalypse. In December of 2012, my grandfather led us to where he believed our family would hold off the forces of evil, a last bastion for our bloodline- A fucking Super8 motel in Forsyth GA.

My mother used to drink blood in the 90s and beat the shit out of football players as a hobby, so she could beef up for roller derby. She raises baby animals, and has more than once attempted to kill a man during intimacy.

All if my dad's ex wives have tried to kill him. He's had attack dogs sicced on him, beaten with a crowbar, chased with a hammer, run over with his own car, and pushed out a vehicle. His new wife was a pen pal he met when she was in jail.

My aunt believes she convenes with the angels when she's hopped up on ambien and percocet, so she's like the goth version of Mama Murphy from Fallout 4.

I was conceived in a crack den in North Carolina. My mother's organs don't like having kids, so much so that both me and my sibling (J) were born dead and had to be resuscitated. In both cases it was due to the umbilical cord playing a game of Hangman.

My little brother (J) taught Igor, our Vulture, to vomit on command. Nobody knows how.

He has been using the infestation of rats at my family's cabin to do... something. He's been running a rat cannibalism fight club, in an attempt to fish out a Super Rat which he plans to do... Something with?

My little brother (M) spends his spare time firing at passing cars. We have managed to make sure he's using BB guns, is the compromise. (J) went through a similar phase when he was an early teen, and would shoot a bow and arrow at the neighbor's house. I did the same with a potato cannon in my youth. It's a tradition.

My dad is missing his appendix. He has no idea where it went and has no record of it ever being removed.

My grandmother reluctantly admitted to having an affair with a ghost in her 40s.

My brother (M) used to love botany. By the age of 6 he could tell you anything you wanted to know about the flora of southeast GA. He had a garden. And he also grew weed for my step-dad until my mom found out. After that he was banned from gardening and picked up junior robotics as a hobby after i gave him K'nex and some Lego Mindstorms stuff years ago. He took apart an air conditioner in a motel once. To this day we don't know what he did with the screws. He builds airsoft guns from scrap and is a mechanical prodigy. He is almost illiterate.

My brother (A) disturbs me. He was raised by the internet and YouTube. He is whatever this new generation is personified. He's frighteningly... Normal.

I am waiting for the shoe to drop and for him to reveal some darkness to him never before seen in my family.

He's just. A normal kid. A little zoomer that watches Mr. Beast and YouTube long plays. He's also the straight man to most of all my family's bullshit. He's dangerously genre savvy. He also has a weird interest in law???

My sister (H) is your average country girl. She's attempted to kill more than one of her boyfriends (will clarify that they were abusive), has totaled three cars and always walks away from these nightmarish accidents unscathed. She was found on the side of the road last year hitting her vape and flagging down a car, while her own was stuck five feet above a ditch in a tree.

She has a job and plans to go to New York to "see what them city twinks got goin' on"

My other little sister (C) is the only other queer member of my sibling roster. She's a lesbian, and enjoys shooting things. Sometimes living things. She, like (A), is dangerously genre savvy and doesn't play into my family's religious fanaticism. She wants to be a firefighter because she is also a pyromaniac and wants an excuse to see "big things burn".

A bit more about (J)- He claims to speak to the dead, and has used this to become my grandfather's right hand man, and the beneficiary of his estate. He is an autodidact, self taught with blacksmithing and metalworking. He dresses well, and also has a hidden laboratory in my grandfather's shed where he has taken a fixation in herbal tinctures and remedies. He knows they're bullshit. But my family buys his potions, and he uses the money to buy pawn shop jewelry and scrap metal to build stuff. He believes firmly in werewolves, and is convinced Furries are a psyop to prepare the general public for their emergence in society. Which is why he's making silver bullets.

I wish to stipulate that not a single word of this is a joke. This is on god, IRL bullshit I have to contend with.

I should probably update this to remove real names what the fuck

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thegnomelord · 5 months

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Soap and #12 with cismale reader. I was thinking they have mutual feelings for each other but not in a relationship yet, and some obliviousness mixed in for drama lol

Sure mate, though it ended up more drama than oblivious idiots in love lol. Play the game HERE.

Prompt: "What, did you think all those times I kissed you were for shits and giggles?" "Let's be real, you had a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public."

CW:NSFW, Sub Soap, Top male reader, back alley sex, semi-public sex, mild fighting, miscommunication, Soap being a jealous hoe(again)

You and Soap have a . . . thing. You're not quite sure what to call it; You're just comrades, friends, who go out for drinks after every mission and end up messily making out in the back of a bar only to get kicked out when you two inevitably get frisky and near an indecent exposure charge. But it's fine, because it gives you the excuse to go to base and fuck on the bed, or the floor, or the table, or against the wall, or any other semi-flat surface.

But you're just friends. . . or, that's what tell yourself every time your heart pitifully clenches in your chest when Soap smiles, when he laughs and pats your shoulder, when he moans your name so sweetly as you pound into him, when he looks at you as if his world starts and ends with you; because what would a bloke like Soap want with you other than sex? So you try to drown the ache for him by going out with other people, but it's never the same— not in the way they sound, in the way they move, in the way you feel.

Johnny, on the other hand, thinks you're his and his alone.

"I'm telling yea lads," Johnny says as he knocks back a beer, a lovey dovey look in his eyes like he's a lovesick puppy. "Ah've locked him down this time." He grins, and Ghost swears if he has to listen one more time about how big your cock is or how Johnny can still feel you from last time— he'll shoot you both.

"Uhuh," Gaz rolls his eyes, amused at his antics but also happy that he's finally found someone. "Yeah, su-" Something catches Gaz's eyes and he turns his head, the color draining from his face. "-ummmm."

Ghost's eyes quickly flicker over to where he's looking, "Look at that," Ghost gives a rough snort, "Locked your man down so good he's swappin' spit without you."

Soap's immediately sober as a nun, his neck audibly cracking when he swings around to look at you. The sight of you making out with a random girl across the bar has Soap's thoughts turning in his head like rusted cogs, the world almost slowing down to force him to feel all the emotions his brain spits out; Surprise comes first, like being drenched in ice cold water, disgust making his blood feel like tar at the thought of you touching someone else the same way you touch him, hot anger barreling straight through it to make fingers twitch for the trigger of a gun.

But it's the meek hurt that forces his legs to move, striding across the bar like he's on a war path. A rough hand on your shoulder makes you break off the kiss, your world spinning like a kaleidoscope from the booze and sudden force turning you around. Your eyes finally settle on familiar blue ones, but they're cold like the deepest part of the arctic. "Johnny?" You ask.

His name on your lips only makes his scowl deeper, a bruising grip on your arm as he tugs you, "We need tae talk," He spits, glaring at the poor girl you'd been making out with like she's riddled with plague.

You're not given even a second to argue before he's yanking you out the back exit into the alley between the bar and another building. A second later he's roughly slamming you into the brick wall, knocking the breath out of your lungs with a forearm against your throat and ignoring as you choke softly. "Thae fock's wrong wit' yea!" He snarls into your face, more animal than man.

Rapidly depleting oxygen forces your brain to flood your veins with adrenaline and suddenly you're moving, harshly elbowing him in the stomach and ramming him into the stone wall behind him you swear the rock cracks. "Me? What's wrong with you?"

He tries to push against you, your arms scrambling for a solid hold until you end up in a stand still, "What's wrong-" He shoves his face into yours, nearly breaking your nose while hissing like a feral cat, "-is thaet ye're shacking up with some tramp."

"So what!" You demand, a low grunt leaving your lips as you attempt to keep him pinned when he squirms like an eel, "We're just casual-" You force out those words, trying to ignore the stab to the chest your heart gives.

"Casual?" He scoffs and with a swift jerk of his head smashes his skull into yours. You stumble away, black spots dancing in your vision and that's all he needs to grab and switch your positions, pinning you to the wall. "What? D'yea think all those times I kissed you were for shits and giggles?" He demands, a bit of a traitorous hurt making his his voice crack, face pinched in pain.

"Let's be real-" Copper and iron invade your tastebuds, drawing attention to the slow stream of blood trickling from your nose, "-you had a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public."

You feel his body tense, but keep your eyes open as you expect him to punch you, to kick you, to do something to prove what you have is just temporary; pointless bliss.

"Then how'bout ah give yea a clearer message-" He leans in to lick trail of blood on your face before capturing your lips in a kiss that's more teeth than anything else. You wretch your hand free to tangle your fingers in his short hair, bodies fitting together like jigsaw pieces, reciprocating with just as much intensity as you bite his bottom lip until his blood floods your mouths. "Got it through yer thick skull now?" He asks, pulling back just a bit to stare into your eyes.

You don't know what 'it' is, but the kiss and the roughness makes heat burn through your veins, one quick flicker of your eyes confirming he's sporting the same problem in his pants as you are. "Think I'll need more convincing."

Soap yelps when you turn him around, pinning his chest to the cold wall as your hands slide down to his belt. You stall for a second to give him a way out, but he just growls, "Get on with it," So you quickly undo his pants, shoving his jeans and boxers just down beneath the swell of his arse.

"Slut," You chuckle when you catch sight of the black plug nestled between his cheeks, the skin near it still glistening with lube from how messily he'd prepped himself, "Needed me so bad did you?" You ask as you pull the plug out, putting it into your pocket as you push the head of your cock against his fluttering opening.

"'s cause ah love yea, fockin' git." He growls, his words making your brain crash.

"Repeat that," You say, softer, kinder than you usually operate, pressing against him until you're covering his back completely. "Say that again."

He notices your change, the ice in his eyes melting away enough to let him tug your head closer to kiss you, "I love you." The way he says it, like a prayer, like a sweet caress, has your heart melting into a puddle. A dingy back alley shouldn't be the place where you confess your love, but right now it feels like Paris.

"Love you too," You kiss him back and slide into him in one slow stroke, greedily swallowing down his sounds. You let him adjust before setting a hard pace like you know he loves, cock head scraping against his prostate with every thrust. "Really, really love you." You breathe out, watching his eyes lose focus as he lets out little 'ah, ah, ah's every time your hips meet.

"Bonnie, bonnie lad please-" He whines, resting his face against the dirty wall as he moans without shame, forgetting that anyone could walk in on you two and more than likely hear you across the single layer brick wall. "Fock, c'mon, give it to me."

"Yeah, gonna take care of you-" Your hand slides down to rub his cock, squeezing his base every time you bottom out and playing with his head when you draw your hips back so you can plunge back inside him, lust and love lighting up every synapse in your body. "Just say you love me again."

Johnny's eyes close as he falls into a barely comprehensible rambling of 'love you, love you, love you', his body shaking with a building heat in his stomach, precum rapidly lubing the glide of your hand as you fuck him in a harsh pace until with a sharp yell against his shoulder you cum inside him, Johnny following suit as he paints the dirty wall white with his cum.

You feel him collapse against you and have just enough strength left to support you both, though the wall does the brunt of the work. You breathe the same air as you try to get your bearings, both hearts beating in the same speed and rhythm, and Johnny whines when you attempt to shift, hole clenching greedily around you like his body doesn't want you to seperate.

"You know," You say when you've managed to catch your breath, nuzzling into the back of his neck, "There are easier ways to say you love me without biting my head off." You chuckle, as if your heart isn't beating a thousand miles per hour at the knowledge Soap loves you.

He swats at your head, "Oh awa' an bile yer heid." He growls such harsh words before kissing you softly, sharing a silent promise with you.

#cod mw2 #Gnome's prompt game #x reader #gnome correspondence #trinkets from the hoard #male reader #top male reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #sub john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x male reader #I am slowly dying with how many of ya'll are playing this game O_O #But seriously ya'll are wonderful #and I love and cherish every member of the gnome army

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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 2 months

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One thing I’ve grown to appreciate about the “Red Dead Redemption” series now that I’m older is that you can tell Rockstar approached this project as an anti-western. It lures you in with the promise of Wild West, yeehaw goodness, but when you actually play the games, you get hit with the brutal reality of this world.

Examples of what I mean:

1) The Mexican Revolution arc isn’t romanticized. At first, you think it’s a simple tale of the evil fascist government fighting against the heroic rebellion. But then you meet the rebel leader and he turns out to be just as bad as the government. It’s a true “both sides are in the wrong” situation and, unfortunately, the ones who truly suffer are the peasants (such as Luisa Fortuna).

2) Frontier life isn’t just shooting and action. It was also watching over animals, building farms and ranches, and trading with towns. The games really make you feel the monotony of doing chores and yard work, especially when John was in his Jim Milton phase.

3) Outlaw life isn’t romanticized either. Although you start off as a happy family, it eventually devolved into backstabbing, despair, and self-destruction. Even before then, your group aren’t the greatest of people, especially with the whole robbing people at gunpoint and shooting up towns.

4) Good guys don’t always get a happy ending. Also, every action has a consequence. John Marston had to learn that the hard way.

5) The racism. I feel like a lot of Western-themed media tries to skirt around this issue, or even avoid the topic (such as the 2016 remake of Magnificent Seven, which had a diverse group of fighters). Red Dead doesn’t pull back its punches. You have the Ivy League professor who treated Native Americans as subjects for his racist research. Abraham Reyes straight up calls Chinese people an inferior race. Then there’s the Blackwater short film playfully talking about the massacre of Native American tribes.

6) Along the same lines as point 5, the sexism. For example, there was the propaganda short film about opposing the women’s suffrage movement. And, of course, Sadie Adler not wanting to be relegated to cooking for the group since she can shoot.

7) This is more for RDR2. You actually have to pay attention to the maintenance of the horses and the guns. I’ve never seen this in a Wild West movie/TV show, and yet it’s integral to someone whose life revolves around horseback riding and shooting people!

8) Not skirting around the issue of disease, especially when healthcare wasn’t as advanced as it is nowadays. You can see that especially with Arthur and Abigail.

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still-a-morosexual-help · 7 months

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Okay fine Mechat has some actually interesting concepts & stories.......

1. Succubus LI trying desperately to suck out MC's life via sex Vs. Demisexual MC who just wants to eat burgers, go on walks & sleep well at night

2. DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE!!!??

3. Her:

4. Dead guy trying to scam other dead people out of their money and trying his best to seem scary and morbid Vs. MC who lives next to a cemetery, is morbidly fascinated by death, at most thinks he's funny

5. Genius indie game developer escaping an abusive family + MC willing to throw hands with his mother at any given moment

6. Nonbinary mermaid. That's it. (merperson?)

7. Polycule with 4 eldritch horrors. They're personifications like the Sins but they've got 0 control and you get to see what that actually means

8. Sea demon trying desperately to eat MC Vs. MC enjoying making his life living hell and making him flustered by flirting with him - also they have some of the funniest chats

10. Nonbinary dragon with a gem/jewellery making hyperfixation

11. Modern day beauty and the beast retelling except it's VERY CLEAR that if he ever permanently turned into a human MC would ditch him so fast.

LI: I'm a terrible hideous monster, a freak, no one will ever want me, I literally look like if someone stretched a dog's skin over a human's body, you should leave me and never come back

MC: Take off your shirt

12. Overworked barista MC who is just done and dead inside and just begging the man with a gun who just crashed through the cafe's window to shoot them in the face

13. """The stray cat I brought home turned into a hot naked guy who basically called me useless, kicked me out of my own bed and home, then texted me to cry about how I don't care for him because I went to work without leaving any cat toys out for him to play with but I'm going to coo at him and give him anything his little bastard heart desires no matter how much it inconveniences me and no matter how much he flip flops between hating my entire existence and Immediately crying when I leave him alone for longer than five minutes because I'm still a cat owner and this is the type of insanity that consumes every single cat owner ever"""

Also includes:

• They/them gender neutral MC

• Customizable sprites for MC

• Voice messages with amazing voice acting

• You can choose if you want to see 18+ content or not, and the sex scenes can range from being inferred to very explicit

• Dom/sub/top/bottom/switch/vers MCs

• Multiple poly LIs

• Some stories allow you to switch LIs - play the same story with a different character so you can have your preference

• Treasure trove for the monster fuckers ft LIs like;

a.) Mythical beings like Medusa

b.) Extraterrestrials like aliens similar to the ones from Avatar

c.) Straight up furry content - like anthropomorphic animals

d.) Hybrids - humans with animal ears & tails

e.) Eldritch beings like Death

f.) Horror-esque characters like killer (?) clowns & ghouls

g.) Supernatural beings like demons and witches

h.) Not monsters but also: knights & pirates

• Also just normal average sweet LIs too

• My favourite: updated mod for unlimited gems

Part 2 of interesting routes

#mechat

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gayuu-the-necromancer · 2 months

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Ikevil Male Leads in a Job interview

WARNING: This is a joke, please don't act like this in your actual interview!

Liam:

Interviewer: "Tell me about yourself."

Liam: "My name is Liam Evans. I'm a stage actor for the past X no. of years and also works as assassin behind the scenes. I was forcefully put into a mental hospital at a very young age after I was accused of killing my parents and my butler and also burning my family mansion. Due to this, I get frequent episodes where I go completely crazy and do things out of curiosity."

Interviewer: *WTF!!?*

William:

Interviewer: "What are your strengths and weakness?"

William: "Well...I can give orders to people and force them to do whatever I want by just looking into their eyes."

Interviewer: ".........Are you implying that you possess, leadership skills?"

William: "I won't necessary call it a leadership skill because I love seeing people being free and being the master of their own actions."

Interviewer: "..........."

Interviewer: "..........O-Okay, then what are your weaknesses?"

William: "Strawberries."

Interviewer: "........."

William: "....fufu....I'm sorry, that's the only thing I can't share?"

Harrison:

Interviewer: "So Mr Harrison, why do want this job?"

Harrison: "Honestly, I just wanna a job because I want to avoid going to home because there is this annoying old man in house who constantly gives me tasks in the name of Queen Victoria."

Interviewer: "....Was it supposed to be a joke?"

Harrison: "You tell me. Am I lying or saying the true?" *takes out his strawberry milk can*

Interviewer: ".........."

Elbert:

Interviewer: "So Mr. Greetia, how do you put an elephant inside a refrigerator?"

Elbert: "..............Does putting an elephant inside...makes it beautiful?"

Interviewer: "Excuse me?"

Elbert: "I have preserved many animal skins before.......but never an elephant. .....Do you think an elephant is beautiful...?"

Interviewer: "..........Ha?"

Alphonse:

Interviewer: "Can you work under pressure?"

Alphonse: "Of course. Not only working under pressure, I can also help others in my team to work effectively."

Interviewer: "Oh, how?"

Alphonse: "I can give them blissful dreams to help them relieve their stress."

Interviewer: "B-Blissful dreams...?"

Alphonse: "Want to find out? *removes his gloves* Let's have fun together, shall we?"

Interviewer: "NO!" *runs away*

Roger:

Interviewer: "Can you tell me about a time you had to deal with an unsatisfied customer?"

Roger: "As a part of my job, I do encounter various types of patients. But there is this one bastard who is always ungrateful. He's my regular customer and always comes to me for check up and no matter how much I work hard to treat his injuries and lung problems, this son of bitch calls me a quack and then smokes right in front of me! After I treated his lungs! Seeing him makes me wanna pull out my gun, shoved it his mouth and shoot him. But I have to control myself because I'm a doctor."

Interviewer: ".............."

Roger: "Your heart rate is fast....are you okay?"

Ellis:

Interviewer: "So tell me why you quit your last job?"

Ellis: "Well....I was doing a contract job with my previous employer. But no matter how much I tried, I just couldn't make my boss happy."

Interviewer: ".....................Huh?"

Interviewer: "E-Excuse me...what kind of job were you doing before?"

Ellis: "I was working in a trading company as my boss's assistant and carry out whatever orders my boss gives me. It could range from simple collections to straight up assassination and cleaning up. But no matter how much I worked hard, my efforts couldn't bear a fruit. I couldn't make my boss happy....*sad face*

Intervierwer: "E....Erm...."

Ellis: "Will you give me a job here? I promise I'll make you the happiest person in this entire world." *smiles*

Interviewer: *runs away feeling embarrassed*

Ellis: "Did I make them sad too?" *sad face*

Jude:

Interviewer: "Phew....that was a lot...In my entire career, I have never interviewed a bunch of weirdos....*sighs* please call the next---"

*gunshot*

Interviewer: "WHAT THE HELL!? Was that a gunshot!?"

*Door opens*

CEO: "Please! please help me! He's after my life!"

Jude: "Where's that bastard who stole my money? You think you can steal my money and get away huh? Now how should I punish you?"

CEO: "Mr. Jude....please...I'm sorry...I just wanted to start my own company..."

Jude: "If you wanted to start your own company, you should have done it with your own money, you jackass. *lights his cigarette while standing in front of the 'no smoking' sign board* Tch....Usually, I would let Ellis handle these kinds of errands, but now I have to do it myself."

Interviewer: (Wait....so this guy was Ellis's...previous boss)

Jude: *Shots the CEO in the head*

Jude: "Now I'm taking over your company. Since it's technically build from my money" *laughs manically*

Interviewer: *faints*

Jude: "Hm? *looks at the fainted interviewer* What the?"

#ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #cybird #ikemen villain #ikemen villains

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star-girl69 · 1 year

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Hii are you taking requests rn? If so can I request a jake x neytiri x fem omatikaya! Reader fic where Jake and Neytiri have a fat crush on y/n but don’t really know how to go about telling her and they end up being really awkward about it. Maybe like they stumble over their words around her and the couple become an awkward mess trying to hint that they like her? Reader isn’t dumb tho and she can tell and admits she likes them too 🤭 would be super cute if it was a really fluffy fic!

Drink Your Poison (I’ll Kiss it Out)

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: a lot of facts about pandoran wildlife is incorrect and i apologize for that, i’m just too lazy to go back and change it. and i doubt it takes someone this much time to learn archery but… for the sake of the plot! also this is just obscenely long.

also i’m so sorry anon this fic just went off the rails 😭😭😭😭

warnings: animal death, mentions of death, near death experience, mentions of guns and knives, mentions of blood and injury, mentions of poison, angst, swearing, light fighting, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“My mother…” Neytiri starts, head on her mate’s shoulder, fingertips circling absentmindedly across his chest. “Wants us to teach her friend’s daughter how to hunt and fight.”

It is late summer, autumn starting to creep in. It’s is cold as the look at the stars, the summer is getting cooler, but they are warm on the other’s embrace.

“Why do we gotta do it?” Jake groans, throwing an arm over his eyes.

Neytiri shrugs, sees a wisp from the spirit tree fly above them.

—-

Every morning, you rise when the sun does. Wash your face in a bowl of water, eat quick, dress, and sling your bow over your shoulder to head out into the brightness.

The sun always shines straight in your eyes, and this morning is no different.

You look towards your left, to the forest, find Jake and Neytiri waiting for you.

You father had been a great warrior, but you had never excelled in the art of it. Once he died, your mother had been insistent that somebody carry on the family legacy- being the best hunter in the clan. With no other siblings to speak of, she forced training upon training on you, but it never took.

Until, finally, she confided in Mo’at about her issue.

Mo’at, knowing that Jake and Neytiri were still young, still needed practice. She decided that teaching you could be a sort of test for them- if they could teach you how to hunt, then surely they could lead the clan?

Every morning, you walked begrudgingly over to them, groaning all the way. It was not your fault you preferred other things to hunting, not your fault that you were not born for it like your father was. But, your mother was insistent, and you loved her.

You slap a fake smile onto her face you come into earshot of them, and Jake smiles widely and greets you. Neytiri sends you a tight lipped smile, but you do not mind. None of you want to be here, Neytiri is just not as good as putting on a show.

You look at Jake as his face turned serious, and he takes your bow from your hands. You’re a bit put off by his actions, but in the week they have been teaching you, you have come to learn that Jake often has a plan for each moment he makes. Everything is intentional.

He points to the string.

“What is this called?”

He smiles as you roll your eyes, giving you and expectant look.

“Really?” you ask, feeling like a child.

“What is this?” he simply asks again, and you sigh.

“The string.”

“Good. And this?”

It continues on until you have named all the parts of how correctly, and Jake smiles.

“Good girl,” he praises, and although your stomach flips in a way it shouldn’t, you have grown used to the names he calls you.

“Yes,” Neytiri says, sliding off of the large rock she was sitting on. “You did well. You are ready.”

You face lights up, the prospect of this early morning torture ending making your heart twist.

“Just to shoot,” she says, but smiles at your disappointed look.

Due to their duties, your lessons are early in the morning and quite short, so your training takes triple the time than it would someone learning from your old teacher.

“Soon,” Jake tries, handing you the bow, and you can only bite back a grumble as you trudge through the forest.

—-

It is the third day of shooting when it finally happens.

You had been waiting all this time, for the pressure to get to you, for you to snap and fall, break apart.

You are being held together by the stems of flowers, so close to breaking, the air permeated by the sound of its slow rip.

You trudge through the woods yet again, feeling defeated before you had even started. In theory, you should be an expert at the bow.

You know each part of it, your stance is perfect, and yet you can never quiet hit the bullseye.

You feel like a stupid child, and you curse the day your father died. If he had not died so early, left so much ambiguity, perhaps your mother would not be scrambling for pieces of him in you.

It is a heavy weight to carry, and your back is breaking under the pressure.

You sigh as you face the target, Jake watching your stance.

“Good, good. Try moving your foot a bit forward- yes, perfect. Atta girl.”

You send a silent prayer to Eywa, more so a plea, begging to hit the bullseye just once. So you can go home and tell your mother, and perhaps she will start to heal, perhaps she will let you be you.

“You’re too tense,” Neytiri notes, and your eyes are already blurry with tears.

“‘M not,” you mutter, and she clicks her tongue.

“You cannot shoot if you mind is elsewhere. Hunting is as physical as it is mental. What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” you hiss. You can no longer slap a smile onto your face, pretend it is all well. The clearing falls silent, and you only feel more stupid, more worthless. “Can I shoot?” you ask through the silence, voice choked up.

“Yeah,” Jake whispers, and your arrow cuts through the tension as you release it.

But, with your blurry eyes and tense muscles, the arrow sinks into the drift below the target, missing the bullseye. Missing the bullseye.

It takes a second for it to sink in, for your eyes to clear enough of the salt to even see where the arrow had landed. But, you see it, and you have never felt like more of a failure.

Tears fall down your face, like the final decrescendo of a song, and you are filled with an overwhelming self hate.

Soon, you cannot see in front of you again, and the bow is falling to the ground and your hands are coming to you face, pressing against your mouth as you choke back a loud sob.

Why can’t you be like you father? Why cant you be what your mother needs you to be?

Your cries are loud as they fill the clearing, and you don’t stop until a warm hand rests on your shoulder.

Like the recoil of the string after you let go of the arrow, you snap into place, spine straight. You turn, saying how sorry you are, desperate to push past whoever is stopping you and run back to your bed.

Is it wrong to hide there forever, pretend you have never seen a bow before, pretend the pressures of your mother don’t exist?

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, head tucked into your chest, throwing your hands out blindly as you try to push past. “for- for wasting your-” you breathe in heavily, practically heaving, barely breathing.

“Y/N,” a voice says, and arms wrap around your biceps, holding you in place. “Y/N, deep breaths,” it says, and you look up to find Jake staring down at you, concern in his eyes.

You cease your struggling, let yourself sag against him, and he places his head on top of yours, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You est presses against his chest, a heartbeat thundering in your ears, much softer than what is happening in your own chest.

Suddenly, Neytiri fills your field of vision, placing a hand on the side of your face. Her voice fills your ear, and anchor back to the ground, and it takes you a moment to realize what she is saying.

“You have to breathe, Y/N. Breathe,” she urges, placing her hand over her chest and breathing in deeply, exaggerated, movements big, encouraging you to copy her.

With shaky movements, shaky breath, you manage one, then another, then another.

“What is wrong, Y/N?” she finally asks, and you screw your eyes shut, pushing away from Jake, embarrassed and foolish.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, face still damp with tears. “I- I should go,” you say, but Jake stops you with a pointed look. “It’s not your responsibility to help me.”

“We would not ask if we didn’t want to help you.” Jake replies, and perhaps it if selfish, but you have been bottling everything up.

You take a breath. “My father was a great warrior. My mother- when he died, she wanted someone to carry on his legacy. I have no siblings, so it was up to me.” You let out a dry laugh. “And you see- I am nothing with a bow. And I tell her, and she says I am just not trying hard enough. I am tired of living under her pressures, and I just- I couldn’t do it, not today.”

“You do not deserve to have the legacy of your father pushed on you, Y/N. I’m sorry, truly,” Jake says.

“When my father died,” Neytiri starts, cutting through the silence that had fallen. “My mother put not pressure on me. I put it all onto myself, because I carried his bow and promised to protect The People. I know what it is like for your back to break like that, Y/N. And you shouldn’t have to suffer.”

You look her up and down, and she does the same, her expression changing, tone softening, almost as if she has realized something new to you that has been there the entire time. Like she was seeing you in a different light.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and Jake softly smacked your shoulder.

“Atta girl,” he said, and it felt different this time.

—-

The next week was peaceful, with Jake and Neytiri off visiting another clan. You didn’t have to wake up as early, and slowly, the embarrassment at your breakdown faded.

They were so far away, taking your thoughts with them. You didn’t see your mother much, you made it your mission to get out of the tent as much as possible, stay away from her, lest you broke down in front of her. You couldn’t take that again, not so soon.

You felt like you were floating through life, praying to Eywa for some guidance, something to ground you to the earth.

In return, two people filled your mind. Your dreams, your waking moment. They filled you, and you thought about them constantly.

Washing your clothes, collecting food, something persistent: I miss them, I want them.

It was what your blood sung, what rested in your heart. As the days stretched on, your fondness only grew and grew, days blending until it was the day the arrived. You didn’t see them, but you knew they would come the next morning to train you.

(You dreamt about them.)

—-

Your morning routine was slightly less soul-crushing, you mused.

Regardless of the crush you realized you had on the two, you did genuinely want to see them. And, hopefully, they would want to see you too.

Something had connected you the day you broke down, giving the three of you a common denominator, peeling back some layers, new parts showing through.

Something had changed, and you knew it and yet didn’t know it.

You slung your bow over your shoulder, moving aside the flap of the tent, only to be met with blue. When you looked up, Jake was in front of you, smiling down sweetly.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, and you swear you saw him bite his tongue. His eyes turned to your bow next. “You won’t be needing that today.”

You backed up, so you didn’t have to crane your neck to look at him, before taking the bow into your hands suspiciously.

You noticed Neytiri then, when she spoke, appearing nearly out of nowhere. “Really,” she smiles, eyes trailing up and down. “You do not need it.”

Quickly, you rush back into your tent, throwing the bow to the ground and saying a silent thank-you to Eywa, coming back outside before the two could change their mind.

—-

“We still have to train you. We made a promise. But, we thought to give you a break, no?” you nod as Jake speaks, playing with the knife he had given you as the two lead you through the forest.

“A sturmbeest was here yesterday,” Neytiri says, ears perked up and tail swishing. Her bow is huge, the one of the late Olo’eykan. Orange and red, you think it is about as tall as a human. “The hunting party failed to capture it. But I am better than them,” she gloats, looking at you over her shoulder, almost to make sure you heard.

You smile, and she does as well, before putting a finger to her lips and turning back towards the forest. The only sounds you can hear are of faint footsteps, birds calling, the forest aching and moving as it wakes.

Neytiri leads the two of you into the forest, until she stops and beckons you over. When you stand next to her, close, the surrounding bush making it hard not to, you see what she is looking at. With you limited knowledge, even you know that is some sort of animal print.

Neytiri crouches low, touching the wide part of the footprint, easily embedded into the soft dirt below.

“The front of a sturmbeest’s foot is wider than the back. So… the sturmbeest is heading south.” You nod, trying to commit her words to memory.

You and Jake follow her silently, until the sound something moving surprises you. You turn around, only to find that it is Jake moving the gun from his back into his hands. You hadn’t even noticed it.

“Thanator territory,” he says, barely a whisper. But you hear him and nod, look out at the forest wearily. You haven’t seen a Thanator up close, only the dead body of a small one. But you have heard stories of them, know how big they can get.

Suddenly, Neytiri raises her hand, kneeling before a fallen tree trunk. The two of you come close to her, foliage providing cover, all squished together on the small log. Elbows stick out and touch, and you swear you could reach out and collect the tension in your hands.

“Got you,” Neytiri whispers, silently placing an arrow into her bow. Her form is impeccable , and she is unwavering, strong and beautiful and fueling your stupid crush my just existing.

She pulls her arm back, breathes out, and lets the arrow fly. It’s soars through the air, wind whistling, meeting its target and sinking into flesh before the sturmbeest can react.

The sturmbeest calls out and falls to the ground, Neytiri managing to hit that perfect place.

She is a force, you think, as she jumps over the log, knife in hand, kneeling before the sturmbeest and whispering to it. Thanking it for its sacrifice, thanking Eywa. Finally, she sinks her knife into that death spot, and the animal stops it’s squirming.

The forest is quiet for a moment, until Jake leans downs to get a closer look at the beast.

“Good job,” he says, and Neytiri seems unmoved by his compliment. She turns to you, slightly smug, bow in her hands.

“That is how you do it, hm?”

You laugh while Jake calls in the kill, pressing the black cord around his neck and speaking into it. He tells you they’ll stay until the human flying machine can come to you. He calls it something else, but the words are foreign on your tongue and make you feel odd.

Instead, you take to exploring, keeping the clearing in sight, fooling around and observing the flora and fauna of Pandora.

You fainting heard Jake and Neytiri talking, the regular movement of the forest, but that all faded as you heard loud footsteps. Hundreds of them, raining down like a violent storm, each footstep like the pitter-patter of rain. It was like you had angered Eywa, and she had come for her revenge.

You knew whatever was coming would tear through the bushes soon, forcing a path, creating at path. But you were frozen in fear, paralyzed of the sound, like thunder in the ground.

Suddenly, you were tugged to the side, behind a tree, pressed tight against someone. Instinctively, you pushed into them, fight or flight taking over, and whoever your savior was smelled like the forest, like home.

You screw your eyes shut, winding your arms around your savior’s neck, until the thunder stops, and the forest is still again.

“Are you okay?” when you look up, it is Jake who saved you.

—-

“Today,” Jake starts, leaning against a tree, “we thought you should try shooting with a different bow.”

“Really?” you muse. “A different bow is going to fix all of my problems?”

“Well- it’s not-” he stutters, and you feel a little mean.

“I was joking, Jake.” You crack a smile to soften the blow, but he still inwardly cringes and looks away.

You have noticed, ever since you cried in front of them, ever since the stampede where Jake had saved you, you noticed. The stuttering words, the odd looks, the way Neytiri smiled at you more and more with each day. A week had passed, and it only became more and more everyday. Overwhelming in the best way.

It confused you. Excited you. But you knew.

It was obvious they liked you- and you certainly had no qualms about it. Triads were uncommon among the people, but not unheard of. Accepted, most definitely. That was no problem to you. But it was the way they were so awkward.

You never imagined yourself being the one to make the first move, but you wanted them, even just for a night. If they were not going to do it, then you must.

—-

“You know, we’re practically best friends with all the time we spend together, yet we don’t really know anything about each other.”

Neytiri looks up at you from below you, crouched down, adjusting your stance by your hips.

“Why- why would you want to know us?”

“Because you’re my best friends, obviously.”

Jake laughs, shaking his head as sharpens his knife.

“No, I’m serious! My life is this: morning lessons with you two, breakfast, chores, and then I just try and avoid my mother until supper.”

Neytiri smiles, standing up after your hips are where she would like them to me, taking a step back to check her stance. But you have gotten used to this- her eyes go where they don’t have to, stay in places longer than they need too. It seems more like she’s admiring you. But she’s so subtle, you barely realize.

“That is lonely.” Neytiri is blunt, but you take no offense to it. You know how lonely it sounds, you know how lonely it is.

That’s why they are much more than your friends, something more, in between, they are your saviors. Not only literally, but figuratively. Without their lessons, their conversations, without them to dream about during the night and day- anytime, all the time- you would go crazy.

“Come over,” and the words are a fever dream, and you are fever dream, unreal, metaphysical.

“What?”

“Come over,” Jake repeats, and Neytiri is looking at the slope of your neck, prominent in your archery stance. “Tomorrow, dinner.”

Your heart is in your chest.

“If- if you want to.”

You smile, because he was doing so well, but it’s alright. It’s endearing, sweet.

“Yeah.”

Neytiri takes a step back. “Shoot.”

You do, and you miss, but you didn’t really. Not in the way it matters.

—-

The next day, nothing is out of the ordinary. The same lingering looks, the same feeling in your chest, until you are just about to leave.

“An hour before eclipse? I’m a good cook, promise.”

“Yes,” you say, losing the war, the war to them, that you never wanted to win anyways.

—-

You wonder if they even know what they do to you.

If they know how you feel, if they even know how they feel themself.

Do they know there are stars on their skin? A feeling in your heart, like an arrow has been shot into it? But it’s not painful, not like it sounds. It’s a beautiful feeling. A lovely feeling. It’s misleading like that, like them.

Your heart is aching and as you sit with them, roasted sturmbeest in your hands- the one Neytiri caught that day- the conversation is pleasant. Not want you what.

With each swallow, each bite past your lips, each awkward bate in talking it is like you are sitting at a table, licking your lips, empty poison bottle in your hands. But it tastes so good, and you wish you could share. But you won’t share. You can’t share. Not when it’s yours, only yours, and it should always stay like that.

Your feelings only grow at the dinner table, more certain that all you want them to do is eat you up, swallow you whole, but it’s no problem; you know you’ll be safe.

Jake hands you a wrapped up piece of dried sturmbeest, smiles and says to add some poison before you give it to your mother. Neytiri hits him, and it’s a cruel joke, but you find it in yourself to smile.

Like a feedback loop, with the rise of your feelings comes the doubt of theirs. Each soft smile, each “you can come over whenever you want,” only makes something slip into your mind. Until you realize.

“I just- I just wanted to say- I’m not something you need to pity.”

Jake smiles, looks taken aback. “Why would you think that?”

“Yes,” Neytiri says, smile fading from her face, confusion creeping into her voice.

“Listen,” you tuck your chin to your chest, you never should have said anything, “this was really nice, really fun? I like you two, but I’m- I’m not a toy for you to play with.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jake says. “You’re tired. Take the day off tomorrow-”

“No! What?” you huff, ignoring the butterflies on your stomach when he places a hand on your shoulder. You shove him off, but it hurts to do it. Hurts to be away from him, now that you’ve got one taste.

“My Jake-” Neytiri starts, but you are annoyed, frustrated that they won’t just make a move, frustrated that they probably don’t even see you that way.

“I’m not tired. I know what I am, what I want.” Your eyes flick between them as you say it, venom on your lips, poison bubbling up.

“What does that mean?” Neytiri asks, eyes narrowing, but you have dug your own grave and you cannot dove out now. Your only hope is to keep digging, find some other side.

“It means I know what I want. Unlike some people.”

“Unlike us?” Jake crosses his arms over his chest. “What are you saying, Y/N?”

“I’m saying it’s rude to lead people on. I’m saying it’s rude to make me think- only for me to be a pity case.”

His eyes darken, and he takes a step forward.

“Make you think what?”

“You know!” you shout, even though you don’t know if he does.

“Say it,” Neytiri whispers, fire in her eyes, coming closer to you, next to Jake now, past him. She is right in front of you, and so beautiful, and you have already drunk your poison.

“Don’t wanna talk.”

Then you crash your lips onto hers, because who cares if you life will be ruined? You want it just once, before you go crazy, because you can live without the touches, the looks, but you have to have a little taste just once.

Just as the novelty of the moment wears off, and it is simply you kissing Neytiri, Jake watching, and you feel small and stupid. Stupid for ever thinking any of this was what is was.

You pull away, cheeks hot, anger in your chest, poison in your throat, when Jake’s finger hook under your chin and tug your head up, and it is perfect and everything, and he tastes like the forest, like the joke you have always know, will only ever know.

You will only ever know this. The feel of their lips on yours.

When he pulls back, you are wide eyed and breathless, disbelieving. You feel like someone will come around the corner, point at you and laugh.

“We didn’t know-” he starts.

“I knew.”

Jake’s face falls, turning a little less worried, into a small smile.

“That obvious?”

“Painfully.”

“Y/N.” Her hands on yours are not foreign, but the tenderness in them is strange. You have known her touch before, but not like this. “We want to court you. Properly. We spoke, and we- we both want…you.”

And you are floating, gone from this world, so fucking overjoyed because it happened. What you have wanted for weeks, what you have know, what you have doubted.

You feel otherworldly, still out of breath, oxygen deprived. You would kiss them forever, die in them, but you couldn’t risk them getting hurt.

You feel like Eywa has given you something good, like your bad luck has ended- and you have never been more grateful than now.

Neytiri grabs your biceps, squeezes once, almost as if to say ‘yes, this is real’, before her hands come to your wrist. Wrap around, move you like a rag doll to hang around the back of your neck.

You can see Jake stand behind her, closer enough to touch his chest when you extend your fingers, just the fingertips, not enough, too much, overwhelming.

“I feel like there is poison in me,” you confess, high off the moment, off of them.

Neytiri places a kiss on the curve of your jaw.

“Let me kiss it out,” she whispers against your skin. “Let us.”

—-

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader

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thefloatingstone · 1 month

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How would you compare Presley's racism vs Ashley's racism. Although now that I type this at least Presley never compared them animals. Hmmm...

Honestly it's all down to "root cause" and "how they express it".

Pressly is a veteran of the first contact war who was shooting at these people less than 30 years ago. His racism has its roots in a perspective forged during wartime and all the baggage THAT drags up. But we get clear and straightforward addressing of Pressly growing out of his racism by his own words, remarking in his log "Reading back on my older entries, what a damn fool I've been."

Ashley on the other hand may have similar baggage, as her grandfather is a disgraced military man and caused her entire family to be blacklisted because of the First Contact War with the aliens, and that would be a similar place to draw her prejudice from and help her grow out of by realising her true feelings of anger and resentment are misplaced. But the way she voices her racism is full of venom and true, deep seeded contempt and hatred. Comparing them to animals is the big one, and ME2 itself mocks her for this comment if she died on Virmire. But it's more than that. Ashley's entire personality is that of "High School Mean Girl". The second Liara steps on board of the Normandy Ashley is GUNNING to bully her. Not just because she's an alien but ALSO for being "one of those lesbian sluts". (reminder, in ME1 Liara is an extremely shy and awkward historian and archaeologist)

When Shepard tells Ashley to NOT bully Liara for being an Asari, Ashley straight up says "No fun, Commander >:("

Also there's this line which some people miss because it requires you to have the discussion with Liara about the Prejudice and racism Asari face galaxy wide and then going directly to Ashley and speaking to her)

(the clip starts at 2:44)

youtube

idk if I said it here or if I said so in discord to a friend, but I see kaidan and Ashley as being written as the answers to Bioware's handling of Renegade and Paragon options. Kaidan is more geared to reflect a Paragon playthrough and Ashley is more geared to fit a renegade playthrough. Possibly the thinking was whichever way the person is playing, it would affect who they decide to spare on Virmire.

(also I have a good relationship with my family but Ashley going "WHAT DOES SHE MEAN SHE DOESN'T LIKE HER MOM???? THAT'S STUPID." comment also makes me really fucking angry considering how many irl friends I have who have moms who suck ass)

Pressly's racism is problematic (same as Garrus' racism in the first game) but he outgrows it and openly says "I was wrong."

Garrus has a full on conversation with Tali in ME3 and directly says to her "I'm sorry and I was wrong."

Ashley never apologises or excuses her early comments and behaviour. She just at some point stops doing it so overtly and comments how "no I like Tali a lot" (Everybody likes Tali) as if this somehow undoes everything she said. More than anything, she tries to justify and excuse her past comments and opinions while also saying the most hateful things about the crew.

She's a racist bully from a heavily religious traditional military family who makes no effort to understand people from family structures or upbringing she doesn't understand, alien or otherwise, who immediately started picking on the shy nerd the SECOND she stepped foot on the ship and never apologises for any of her actions, racist or otherwise.

The racism is a symptom of a much nastier whole.

She's a VERY well written character. I just heavily dislike her.

#Mass Effect #C-Puff answers #ask me to tag if you need me to #Also not putting this in the character tag because I got raked over the coals for that last time

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leo-interactive-fiction · 4 months

Text

RO's Pokémon Teams (Expanded)

Reverse ask. I will now infodump about what each pokémon teams the ROs would have. I know you answered it similarly before, but I want to do this in-depth. For additional flavor I gave everyone a pokémon that evolves by trade, which would happen in game as them trading it with MC, and a route specific pokémon.

Their starter is a shiny Meowth/Persian, since it can use its payday move to generate free money, plus it was a pokémon heavily associated with the main crime organization in the anime (Team Rocket and Giovanni). R’s luck manifested by giving them a shiny, shame it is one of the worst shinies available…

Next up: Super Luck Absol, a pokémon that can sense natural disasters and tries to warn others, and is seen as a doom-bringer as a result. Reclamation R uses it to intimidate their opponents, joking that they are *both* doom-bringers. Rebellion R is much more critical of the rumors and laments their inability to stop the disasters.

Third is Murkrow. Its signature ability is Super Luck, BUT R’s would have Prankster (an ability it loses upon evolving). Prankster!Murkrow works well as a setter in competitive, which means it sets up buffs and debuffs. Reclamation R teaches it Perish Song.

Fourth is Togekiss with Serene Grace. R has been raising it since it was an egg and is very happy to abuse its ability to make their opponents flinch (essentially lose a turn).

Number five is the trade pokémon. R has a Feebas, an ugly little fish that evolves into the regal Milotic. They hardly use it and regret being unable to find anyone they trust enough to trade it back. They eventually trade it with MC as “something to remember them by” and claim Milotic looks better on MC’s team anyway.

Sixth and final pokémon on their team is route specific, although both are rock types due to R’s interest in rocks. Rebellion R gets Sableye, a pokémon that lives a quiet life in caves and eats crystals, the rumors about Sableye stealing souls would synergize well with R being framed for a crime they didn’t commit. Reclamation R would get Glimmora, a pretty flower made out of crystals… of course, said crystals are made out of poison, but R would never use them for evil, how could you even think otherwise?

For a starter, E got Pawmot. Electric/Fighting pika-clone that evolves from Pawmo after walking 1000 steps alongside its trainer. This one is the most spoiled little thing.

Following that, E has a Fidough, their beloved puppy that helps them with cooking. It evolves into Dachsbun after E gets more confidence. Also, it has the Well-Baked Body ability (P hates it. Dachsbun is resistant or immune to almost everything on their team).

Third one is a Bewear, a big and fluffy friend that is ridiculously strong, to the point of accidentally killing its friends with bone-shattering hugs. Fitting with E’s power.

Fourth in line is Hitmonlee. Fighting type with a focus on legs. Fast boy. E goes on runs with it.

Their trade pokémon is a Swirlix. A cutie-patootie fairy goofball of a pokémon that they eventually trade with MC so that it can evolve and grow stronger. E keeps whatever pokémon MC trades them as a reminder to be strong.

Finally, their route specific puppies. Good Influence E gets a Boltund, a good doggie that can run for three days straight, easily break 50 mhp at top speed, and zap its enemies with electricity. Bad Influence E gets a Houndoom, a bad doggo that can give someone eternal, burning pain and chooses its leader via combat.

Their starter is an Inteleon with the Sniper ability, they have been together since before V was made a soldier. To quote the dex entry: “Its nictitating membranes let it pick out foes’ weak points so it can precisely blast them with water that shoots from its fingertips at Mach 3.” This pokémon has finger guns, V has a real gun, they are perfect.

Second is a well-trained Rockruff puppy that evolves differently depending on what route V is on. Civilian V gets midday Lycanroc, an extremely loyal pup with a calm demeanor, representing V healing from the trauma and learning how to form bonds. Soldier V gets midnight Lycanroc, who will happily sustain injuries for the sake of taking down its opponent, V’s just a soldier and their life belongs to their commander, why should their pokémon be any different?

Hatterene takes number three. This pokémon’s evolutionary line HATES strong emotions, so no wonder one of them would like having a trainer as emotionless as V.

Frosmoth is next for two reasons. First, I wanted V to have an ice type since they grew up in a cold region. Second, Frosmoth is a friendship evolution and it signalizes that V is not fully emotionless.

Their trade pokémon is none other than Pumpkaboo. Its dex entry mentions that Pumpkaboo are said to be the product of areas where lost souls lingered, so odds are V has seen their fair share of Pumpkaboo and had plenty of opportunities to catch one. This trade happens fairly late in V’s path and comes with V realizing that Pumpkaboo wants to be with MC, signaling that V is becoming more aware of other people’s emotions.

Lastly, V’s route specific pokémon are either a therapy dog or the brutal pokémon. Stoutland, a dog that can keep someone warm overnight in the wintry mountains, is taken in by Civilian V, being a friendly pokémon known for rescuing people, it seems fitting that Civilian V would end up with one for support. Soldier V catches Hydreigon, a pseudo-legendary with destruction as its main goal, the perfect weapon for a soldier.

Espeon is their starter. Little L was given an Eevee to keep them company, Little L got attached, and now L can be seen with an Espeon curled up on their lap while they read.

Second one is Luvdisc, because it is heart-shaped and L is a romantic.

Third down is Xatu, a pokémon that can see both the past and future. Fitting with L’s power. Also, bird!

Pidove is on their team and nobody can convince me otherwise. L, nerd that they are, struggling to dumb down their words so that their cutesy widdle pigeon buddy can understand. Pidove is friendly and sincere, and evolves into the intelligent and proud Unfezant. L wants to evolve it, but this process takes way longer than it should thanks to Pidove being their weakest pokémon and hardly seeing any combat until later in the story.

Kadabra is their trade pokémon. They spent a long time planning how they’d ask a possible future friend to trade with them so that their Kadabra could finally evolve. They end up shyly asking MC if they’d be up for a trade so that “they’d never be fully apart” due to having each other’s pokémon.

Time for their route exclusive pokémon, both psychic. Peace L gets Gardevoir, a pokémon that can see the future and is ready to summon a black whole to protect its trainer, everyone is lucky L keeps it under control. Resolve L gets Metagross, a pokémon with four brains and smart enough to rival a supercomputer, everyone better pray L doesn’t Mega Evolve it since its dex entries state, “Mega Evolution stimulated its brain. It emerged as a ruthless Pokémon that will clutch at any means of ensuring its victories.” and “When it knows it can’t win, it digs the claws on its legs into its opponent and starts the countdown to a big explosion.” Yikes.

Raven:

Their starter, Banette, is a doll that became a pokémon over its grudge of being thrown away. Sounds familiar? Raven found it roaming at night during their first week on the streets and the two have been together since.

Next up, Trubbish/Garbodor, a friend that Raven made years ago when they frequented the same dumpsters. Yes, it is sentient, poisonous garbage. Yes, Raven will cuddle it.

Bisharp takes third for being very sharp and stabby. Insanity Raven goes through the work of evolving it into Kingambit. Therapy Raven keeps it a Bisharp.

Number four is Doublade. Why have one stabby sword when they can have two? Insanity Raven keeps Doublade that way, happy to watch the twin blades slash foes to ribbons. Therapy Raven evolves it into Aegislash, deciding that more defense is worth slightly less stabbing.

Their trade pokémon is Haunter. Raven raised it fully planning on trading with MC. This pokémon is almost as clingy towards MC as Raven. Keeping up with both of them is an exercise in patience.

And finally their route specific pokémon. Insanity Raven gets Spiritomb, 108 spirits trapped into a stone as punishment for their misdeeds, with Raven often making cryptic comments about “making” a new Spiritomb. Therapy Raven, for their part, gets a Maushold to remind them of their goal to have their own family with MC.

S’s starter is Sandaconda. Ground types are common in the desert and its Sand Spit ability turns out to be way more viable when their opponents aren’t used to dealing with sandstorms.

Revavroom is a must for S. A motor pokémon that canonically gets used to power up vehicles? S has built a dozen starmobiles for their Revavroom.

Cyclizar looks like a bike, of course S would have one. It is their main ride when Sandrider is not available. S makes it wear Safety Goggles to protect it from sandstorms.

Their fourth pokémon is Vanillite, because ice cream jokes. S only got it after coming to the academy, which is why it is not evolved and low level. It grows into a Vanilluxe eventually.

For their trade pokémon, S has a Rhydon. They did not originally plan to trade it, nor where they interested in evolving it further. MC is the one to suggest a trade and S ends up deciding that Rhydon is the one they should trade away.

Now, both of their path exclusive pokémon are pseudo-legendaries, because S deserves it. Speed Devil S goes for Garchomp, a land shark capable of going at speeds equal to a jet fighter plane, the perfect Ground-type for a speed devil. Troublemaker S, for their part, gets Tyranitar, an insolent mobile disaster and their best partner in crime after MC.

P’s starter is obviously Blaziken. Fire/Fighting, solid ability in Speed Boost, and an overall solid starter choice. P has trained it since it was a Torchic, maxing out its speed and attack stats.

P gets Ninetales to match with their twin. P caught it as a Vulpix and was very quick to evolve it via Fire Stone.

To represent P’s interest in cooking, they get Garganacl, the rock salt pokémon. Its Purifying Salt ability makes it immune to status conditions, while its signature move, Salt Cure, helps ensure its opponent will not last long on the battlefield. P doesn’t use it much, not being used to its typing, so Garganacl often comes as a surprise to their opponents.

Annihilape takes fourth. A pokémon that got so angry that it died and came back angrier. P and their Annihilape act so similar, it is funny. Rage buddies refuse to chill until they kill one (1) shitty dad.

Their trade pokémon is Gurdurr. They insist they hate it and only traded it with MC to get rid of the damn thing. It has maxed out affection. Regardless of what MC trades back, P will act underwhelmed and mentions it will takes ages to train it up to their standards.

Path exclusive time, with two sword-themed pokémon to distance P from their father’s spears. Competition P has Ceruledge, representing their growing resentment, its dex entries state, “The fiery blades on its arms burn fiercely with the lingering resentment of a sword wielder who fell before accomplishing their goal.” and “An old set of armor steeped in grudges caused this Pokémon’s evolution. Ceruledge cuts its enemies to pieces without mercy.”. Cooperation P gets Scrappy Sirfetch’d, a chivalrous knight with a versatile movepool, which can make it a viable choice in both double and single battles.

Spheal is M’s lovable starter. Their father was hoping M would dominate the battlefield with Walrein, but Spheal has refused to evolve so far. It stays small and cute on Alt M’s path. It finally evolves all the way into Walrein in Maso M’s path.

M gets Alolan Ninetales to match with their twin. They didn’t catch it and instead got it as a gift (from a relative? a suitor? who knows). Took ages for them to evolve it, even though they could have easily gotten an Ice Stone.

Their Komala is next, a pokémon that stays asleep its entire life. They are nap buddies.

Their trade pokémon is Dusclops. It evolves when traded while holding a Reaper Cloth, a nod to M’s planned use of scythes.

Path exclusives are both bangers. Maso M gets Baxcalibur, a pseudo-legendary Ice/Dragon; its signature ability, Thermal Exchange, boosts its attack when it is hit by a Fire-type move, which parallels Maso M needing to be hurt to be at their most effective. Alt M, for their part, nets Slaking, a ridiculously strong pokémon with attack and HP on par with legendaries, but held back by its Truant ability that forces it to only act every other turn; this matches M’s own strength being held back by their sleepiness and forces them to plan around it.

Their starter pokémon is Serperior, a Grass-type that can stop its opponents’ movements with just a glare from its noble eyes. A smug grass snake for the smug forest royal.

Scolipede takes second. F likes to harvest its deadly poison to use in assassinations. It is a soft baby when it comes to F, though, happy to curl up at their feet while they are working.

Third is Drapion. It produces potent poison yet prefers using its physical strength to overpower foes. F’s loyal bodyguard that uses its force to intimidate anyone who might pose a threat to their trainer.

Next up is Parasect. Parastic mushrooms that take control over their host until it is nothing but an empty shell with nothing more to take. F loves their fungus zombie.

Their trade pokémon is Phantump. A child who died while lost in the forest and possessed a stump. F caught it during a rare moment of pity, they trade it with MC, claiming they got tired of babysitting. They will occasionally mention missing their Phantump, only to immediately scoff and pretend they never said that, what are you talking about?

For their route specific we have two interesting options. Royal F catches Tsareena, embodying F’s own cruel heart, with its dex entry stating, “In victory, it shows off by kicking the defeated, laughing boisterously.” Royal F loves when it does that. Peasant F gets Volcarona, a pokémon said to be the rage of the sun, a deity of fire, made to save people and pokémon from cold, and symbolic of F’s more heroic role in the Peasant path.

BONUS:

While it would be impossible to plan a whole team for MC, I believe their father would determine the available starters.

Papa Strom took MC to a military daycare center and had his kid choose from a hand-picked selection of starters. The options are:

Oshawott (Water): its final evolution, Samurott, is based off samurai. Since a Storm MC can have a katana, this seemed fitting.

Chespin (Grass): its final evolution, Chesnaught, is based off the concept of knights and armor.

Charmander (Fire): it seems fitting for a STORM MC to have a starter that can actually fly later on, not to mention how knights and dragons often appear side by side in stories.

Razor didn’t get to give his kid a pokémon. Luckily MC managed to steal one from a totally-not-fake pokémon professor that just so happened to wander on a poorly lit part of town with three starters on his belt. The options are:

Froakie (Water): ninja pokémon, perfect for a sneaky thief.

Rowlet (Grass/Flying): ghost archer with a Robin Hood theme, fitting for a more heroic Razor MC.

Tepig (Fire): its final evolution is based off a man who was assassinated by his own subordinates, foreshadowing MC’s own connection to assassins.

Dad Xero brought home a trio of pokémon he had been considering training for use in his lab. MC bonded particularly well with one of them and Xero decided to let his kid keep it. The options are:

Piplup (Water): evolves into a Water/Steel type, which is immune to poison. Having a pokémon with poison immunity is essential to many lab setting with dangerous chemicals abound.

Bulbasaur (Grass/Poison): the other side of the coin, a Grass/Poison type. Greatly useful for studying both antidotes and bio weapons.

Cyndaquil (Fire): its official category is the fire mouse pokémon, so it makes sense one would end up a lab rat.

Pops Scurra just sent a pokéball via mail one day, alongside a handful of trinkets. E’s mom may or may not have *gently* convinced him that his kid was old enough to get their own pokémom and mentioned a particular one she was sure MC would like. The options are:

Popplio (Water): a darling singer to provide musical accompaniment to MC’s performances.

Sprigatito (Grass): a magician ready to provide an enchanting performance alongside its trainer.

Scorbunny (Fire): its final evolution, Cinderace, has this tidbit on its pokédex entry, “It gets pumped up when cheered on. But if it starts showboating, it could put itself in a tough spot.” A good reminder for any performer.

#submission #This is too great to not post #bravo to whoever took the time and thought to make this

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blubushie · 1 year

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hihihi can we get a part 2 for gun mistakes??? -leafanon

G'day leafanon!

FOR ANIMATORS/AUTHORS/ARTISTS PT. 2

SNIPERS WILL NOT STICK THE BARREL OF THEIR RIFLE OUT OF OPEN WINDOWS. Best case scenario is you’re sat in a mildly-uncomfortable chair while your spotter stands or sits next to you in an even more uncomfortable chair with a rangefinder. Before rangefinders were introduced (1990s and earlier) you were merely going off estimates (“That building is 50 yards, the next is 25, etc etc”). You never put the barrel out a window because it’d give away your position and put you AND YOUR SPOTTER in danger.

MOST MODERN SCOPES HAVE AN ANTI-GLARE COATING AND/OR A SUNSHADE TO PREVENT GIVING AWAY YOUR POSITION. This is especially useful when hunting as many animals (deer, turkeys, pigs) are incredibly vigilant and will bolt if they see the glint off a scope. This also helps with the sunlight hitting your scope and nearly blinding you from taking your shot. There are some cases of this still happening in “modern” times (notoriously the sniper duel between Carlos Hathcock and Cobra, a North Vietnamese sniper during the Vietnam War) but it’s very rare and scopes that are currently used by police, military, and most hunters don’t glint. This is what a sunshade looks like.

BULLETS DO NOT PENETRATE WATER WELL. Water density is much higher than air and the shape of bullets means they don’t travel well in water. Most bullets will fragment or fold upon hitting the surface of the water and their speed is greatly reduced. Supersonic rounds (such as rifle-calibre, up to .50) fragment within a metre (~3ft) of the water’s surface. Slower sub-sonic rounds (such a pistol-calibre) can travel up to 3m (~10ft). Once you’re a metre under the surface, however, it’s unlikely for any round under .50 to even penetrate you on contact as it loses most of its kinetic power. Arrows however are very aerodynamic and may maintain their kinetic energy up to 2m (~6) and perhaps twice that if you're shooting straight down.

RESEARCH. RESEARCH. RESEARCH. Know the weapons you draw/animate/write. It might not matter to you, but it will make or break it to your viewer. Is the weapon single-shot or does it use a magazine? What is the magazine capacity? What is the recoil? How do you reload? What do you do in case of a jam? Does your character know the weapon well? YouTube is your best friend in this regard.

CLIPS AND MAGAZINES ARE NOT THE SAME THING. These are clips vs magazines. Clips are open and hold the cartridge by the bottom. Magazines fully enclose the cartridges. Clips only hold rounds together to make them easier to feed into a magazine.

BLOODY TRIGGER DISCIPLINE. If your character is waving a firearm around with their finger on the trigger I am personally coming to kick your arse. You keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. YOU DO NOT POINT YOUR MUZZLE TOWARD ANYTHING YOU ARE NOT WILLING TO SHOOT.

PROPANE TANKS WILL NOT EXPLODE IF YOU SHOOT THEM. Also, handguns are rarely powerful enough to pierce propane tanks. CARS WILL NOT BLOW UP IF YOU SHOOT THE PETROL TANK.

IF YOU FIRE A FIREARM IN AN ENCLOSED SPACE IT IS GOING TO TEMPORARILY DEAFEN YOU. GUNS ARE BLOODY LOUD. That’s why we wear ear protection. This applies less in intense combat situations as (in my experience) tinnitus doesn't happen if you start shooting after your adrenaline starts pumping.

MAG-DUMPING. Not only is it very dangerous because of the recoil, it’s a stupid waste of ammo as the recoil buggers up your aim so you’re rarely hitting your target. Unless your character is in a panic and/or holding down the trigger out of rage, they’re not going to mag-dump because you’ll empty your entire magazine in only a few seconds (stupid in a combat situation) and rarely hit your target. Fully automatic weapons are fired in short bursts of 2-5 rounds at a time.

IT’S INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT TO HIT A MOVING TARGET. IT’S EVEN HARDER TO DO IT WHEN YOU’RE THE ONE MOVING. Rounds fired while moving are typically just suppression fire—basically shots fired to make your enemy take cover so that they have no time to shoot at you. You are not aiming at a specific target. It’s spray-and-pray.

HIPFIRING IS SPRAY-AND-PRAY. It’s EXTREMELY difficult to hit a target while hipfiring and hitting any intentional target while doing so requires EXTENSIVE practice. For this reason most hipfiring is spray-and-pray—spray, and pray you hit something.

SHOTGUNS ARE EFFECTIVE AT MUCH FURTHER THAN ONLY A YARD OR TWO. Most stay clustering within 50yds. That’s this distance. If you're firing a slug it can be accurate to up to TWICE THIS DISTANCE.

SHOTGUNS WILL NOT THROW THE VICTIM ACROSS A ROOM. They don’t have that much kinetic power, and even if they did, they’d throw the shooter across the room first because they’re taking the brunt of the kinetic energy in the form of recoil.

BULLETS WILL PEIRCE CARS. Car doors will not protect you from bullets, not even the door of a police cruiser. THE ONLY PART OF A CAR THAT WILL PROTECT YOU FROM BULLETS IS THE ENGINE BLOCK. The rest is just concealment cover and will not protect you.

MOST CRIMINALS IN THE USA WILL NOT HAVE FULLY AUTOMATIC WEAPONS. This is less applicable to scenes that occur before the 1980s when there were more full-auto weapons on the streets, but even then were INCREDIBLY expensive and even your most notorious gangster would be unlikely to have them. Unless your character is a top-of-the-line 1920s-1940s Chicago/NY mobster, they probably won’t have that Tommy gun unless they’re filthy rich or the weapon was given to them by someone else who's filthy rich.

YES, YOU CAN MAKE RUNAWAY GUNS (FULL-AUTO) OUT OF SEMI-AUTO FIREARMS. NO, I WILL NOT TELL YOU HOW TO MAKE THEM. The issue with runaway guns is that once you pull the trigger THEY WILL NOT STOP FIRING EVEN IF YOU TAKE YOUR FINGER OFF THE TRIGGER. THEY WILL KEEP FIRING UNTIL THE MAGAZINE IS EMPTY OR UNTIL THEY JAM. For this reason no one in their right mind is making a runaway gun.

STOP HOLDING YOUR HANDGUN SIDEWAYS. YOU DON'T LOOK COOL, YOU LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT AND THAT'S HOW YOU GET JAMS. Having a character do this is a great way to show they're all bluff and an idiot, though.

YOU CANNOT PUT A SUPPRESSOR ON A REVOLVER. Well, technically you can, but it won't work. There's a gap between the cylinder and the bore and in this space is something called the forcing cone. There's a gap between the forcing cone and the bore which allows gas (and sound) to escape from the cylinder, which renders the suppressor absolutely useless since the sound and gas just escapes anyway.

FOR VISUAL CREATORS SPECIFICALLY: REMEMBER EYE RELIEF. YOU NEED TO BE A CERTAIN DISTANCE FROM THE SCOPE TO GET A FULL PICTURE. IF YOUR CHARACTER HAS THEIR EYE TO THE SCOPE THEY ARE GOING TO GIVE THEMSELF A BLACK EYE WITH THE RECOIL. My personal eye relief when shooting my .30-06 is 10cm (~4in). Higher calibre means more kick, which means more eye relief.

As before, if I think of any more I'll add them later!

As always, if you have any questions feel free to send me an ask!

#blu whos #blu pew #bushman #firearms #art tips #writing tips #not tf2 again but w/e

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n0cturna1-m3 · 1 year

Text

Hypothermia & Bad Habits | John "Soap" MacTavish x Male Reader | Angst/Fluff

Fem/Minors DNI

Warnings; Violence, somewhat detailed hypothermia side effects, loss of consciousness, mentioned smoking, injury

A/N; I don't think that this is angsty, but I guess it might be?? idk, you tell me. Also, the injuries MC sustains is not mentioned again only because I fucking forgot 💀

MC's codename is Lynx, based off the animal. I had the Siberian Lynx in mind.

2k words (about)

----------------

It was well below freezing, even colder because of the windy night, and Y/N could feel it even through his thick clothing. Not even his wool socks aided in his suffering. His hands were so cold that they felt hot, being bare to hold his Bambetov SV.

He was lying on his stomach on the outskirts of the forest that shielded the desolate base, patiently waiting for the target he was required to shoot before the rest of task force 141 could proceed, but it was becoming draining. Snow was quickly piling up over him, sticking to his eyelashes and decorating his gun.

141 was nearby, ready to push inside when they heard the boom of Y/N’s gun, but he didn’t know their coordinates, and he couldn’t remember where he started. His head was foggy and his legs were numb and his shoulders shook slightly, his breathing becoming uneven as the minutes passed. How long had he been out there? Maybe an hour.

“Lynx, how copy?” Ghost’s voice spoke through his walkie. It was muffled from being sandwiched between Y/N’s chest and the thick layer of powder beneath him. He moved his hand carefully to disturb as little of the pristine white and grabbed the speaker, pressing a button on the side and opening his mouth. His teeth started clattering immediately.

“Feckin’ f-freezin,” He said quietly, his hand returning to its previous position. He took a couple of shallow breaths and closed his eyes. When he opened them everything was blurry. "I need a cigarette.”

“Have you seen him yet?” Ghost asked, ignoring Y/N's complaints. Y/N scrunched his eyebrows together and squeezed his eyes shut tight before opening them, his vision clearing slightly.

“Uh, no, not yet. Hopefully soon,” He said in a hushed tone. “I’m having trouble-” Y/N stopped abruptly as the door opened, a tall, broad man in a thick fur coat and an ushanka stepping out into the cold night. Y/N watched him pull a box of cigarettes from his pocket and put one in his mouth.

“What?” Ghost said, shuffling on the other end of the line. Y/N shushed him and aimed, closing one eye and leaning into the scope, slowly angling it so the crosshair was over the man’s face. He eyed him as he flicked open his lighter and leaned into it, getting a good shot of his temple and pulling the trigger when he looked back up. The bullet went straight through his left eye and into his skull. The wall splattered with blood, snow soon turning red when he collapsed into the crystal ice, staining its beauty. The forest echoed from the sound, Y/N cocking the rifle again and pointing to the door, waiting for his soldiers to run out the door with their guns.

“Got him,” Y/N said, shooting the first man to run out the door in between his collarbone and Adam's apple. He heard ghost say something, but it rang on deaf ears as he cocked it again and shot a shorter man who was frantically looking around. He caught a glimpse of Gaz sneaking through a side door, but he was paying more attention to the man pointing a pistol at him. They shot at the same time, Y/N getting him in the chest and the Russian sending it into his shoulder. Y/N grunted but cocked it again, his second shot hitting the middle of his forehead.

He could hear the team sharing information as they searched the building for the documents, taking out whoever they had to on the way, but Y/N could barely understand anything, only catching random words that didn’t make sense to him. He didn’t even register the second shot from an AKU-12 that pierced his shoulder. It felt like a bee sting. He shot the last one outside. The rest must be inside trying to take care of the team.

Letting his head hang forward, burying it in the snow that continued to fall, covering him further. He was finally starting to feel warm. The snow on him was bleeding, and the front of the building was just as bad if not worse. It looked like a massacre; a disgusting mess of red amidst the beauty of snow, of serenity. He lost consciousness at that moment, waking up about 15 minutes later. Soap was shouting over the walkie, Y/N catching bits and pieces after hearing his codename.

“Y/N, how copy? Where are… something…”

Y/N grunted and slurred something that was a jumble of “snow,” “cold,” and “outside.”

“What? Repeat… clearly…”

Y/N huffed in response. In his foggy mind, he had assumed that he was making fun of his accent again.

“Gobshite,” He muttered.

Soap scoffed and asked him another question, but Y/N was gone again, face-first into the snow. When he came around next, someone was hauling him up and wrapping their arm around him, another person taking his right side. Y/N’s feet dragged behind him as he was brought to the heli and lifted on, losing consciousness again.

The prying open of one eye had him groaning, a bright light shining into it. He grabbed the person's wrist and squeezed. They exclaimed at his freezing hands and called out an order that he didn’t understand. Something about hot water.

Someone stripped him of his pants and jacket, removing his linens before being wrapped in a blanket.

The next thing he felt was someone crawling into the blanket with him and feeling their skin on his, him elbowing them and lurching away. The person grunted in pain. They felt burning hot. They were burning Y/N's skin with their own. He grumbled as he was pulled in again but quickly sank into the warmth.

Y/N woke up feeling like a corpse. He was exhausted and his skin was tingling, fingers twitching slightly. His attempt to sit up was pitiful, a pained moan leaving his throat when his head hit the pillow under him.

“Easy there, Lynx,” A woman said from somewhere in the room. She walked over to him with a cup and set it on the table next to him, putting a hand under his back and helping him sit up, a blanket being wrapped around him. “You had it pretty rough out there.” He looked at her as she grabbed a small flashlight and checked his eyes. She took the stethoscope from around her neck and plugged it into her ears, taking the flat end and pressing it to his chest. “Deep breath for me.”

He took a few deep breaths as she moved it to various spots on his chest and back, stopping once she deems it enough and taking his arm, holding the stethoscope to his forearm.

“You sound good. Your eyes are less dilated and your breathing is steady,” She stated, picking up the mug she had placed on the table and giving it to Y/N. He held it in both of his hands and took a sip. Hot tea with a plethora of honey. It tasted of raspberry, strawberry, and flowers. He hummed when it went down his throat. “You scared the team pretty bad. Lucky that they got me on the phone. Meeting you at the heli was a sight to see.” Y/N looked at her questioningly as he took another sip.

“You were limp and naked, save for your boxers. You needed skin contact to warm up quicker,” She explained. “Soap was the same, he had volunteered. His teeth were chattering while he pulled on his pants, it was fantastic. I doubt Gaz will let that go,” She chuckled. Y/N could imagine the scene folding out, likely Price and Ghost helping him onto the truck while Gaz laughed at Soap hopping his pants on. A small smile crept onto his face. “You should probably get some rest. Finish that, and I’ll have one of the guys bring you dinner later.”

Y/N nodded and slumped forward as he sipped on the drink, hearing the door click as she left. His mind wandered as he stared mindlessly at the wall in front of him before finishing the cup and placing it to his side, shuffling under the blankets and covering his head. He was out like a light in an instant.

Soap gave Y/N a shove, holding a bowl of tomato soup in one hand. He grumbled and dug further into the comforter, grunting when Soap pulled the blanket off his head.

“Sit up Y/N, I’ve got your dinner,” He said. Y/N huffed and sat up, scooting back and leaning against the wall, keeping one of the wool blankets wrapped around his shoulders. He put his hands out to hold the bowl, Soap handing it to him and pulling up a chair to sit with him. “You gave us quite the scare.” Y/N hummed in response, not bothering with the spoon and bringing the bowl to his lips. “God, you eat like a pig,” Soap laughed, wincing when Y/N playfully slapped the side of his head.

Y/N returned to his soup, drinking it loudly. A bit ran from the corner of his mouth down his chin. Who could have guessed that hypothermia and passing out for almost an entire day would famish someone? Soap crossed his arms and leaned back as he examined Y/N. He had his colour back which made him relieved.

When he finally lowered the bowl from his lips it was empty. He licked his lips and placed the bowl on the table next to the empty mug and looked at Soap who laughed at him.

“You’ve got soup right about here,” He mocked, motioning to his own mouth. Y/N used the back of his hand to wipe it off and licked it off. “You’re disgusting,” Soap muttered, shaking his head.

“Trasna ort féin,” He grumbled. Soap looked at him with a sceptical face.

“What’d you just say?” He asked.

“Nothin,” He responded, wrapping his blanket around himself tighter. Soap nodded sarcastically. “Aye, I heard you hugged me naked, that true?”

Soap put his head in his hands, laughing while shaking his head. “Yeah, I suppose so. You were fucking freezing! And you hit me!” He laughed.

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled half heartedly , closing his eyes for a moment.

“You really did scare us though.” Y/N opened them and turned to look at the brunette. He looked upset. “You scared me.”

“The weather changed suddenly, it was unexpected.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” He said, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. Y/N frowned and reached out to grab Soap, pulling him in for a hug and wrapping his arms around him.

“Sorry, Johnny,” Y/N murmured, Johnny’s forehead resting on his shoulder as he took a shaky breath, sitting on the edge of the cot. Y/N patted his back a few times before pulling back and grabbing Johnny’s face in his hands, looking into his eyes. “I won’t scare you again.”

“Can you make that a promise?” He asked, one of his hands cupping Y/N’s

“No promises,” He said, grinning. Y/N leaned in and kissed him on the lips, Johnny reciprocating it instantly. His shock of Y/N sharing these feelings was outweighed by his lips. He had wanted this for so long. Y/N pulled away and pressed a kiss to his forehead and adjusted his hand placement to pepper kisses on his cheeks, eventually making his way back to Johnny’s lips and kissing him quickly. “Does that make up for it?”

"Yeah,"He whispered, nodding and leaning forward, burying his face in Y/N’s chest, the latter wrapping his arms around him and leaning back. Y/N decided that he likes this feeling more than cigarettes at that moment.

#x male reader #these mfs fags #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #i HATE gay people #soap x male reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x male reader #john mactavish x reader #cod mw22 #cod x reader #cod x male reader #gay

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blazehedgehog · 4 months

Text

I Love To Shoot At Trouble

During the Steam Christmas Sale I ended up buying Need for Speed: Most Wanted 2012 because it was like $6 or $7 and I'm in the mood for a new racing game to chew up. EA already gave the game away for free in like 2015, but that meant installing "The EA App". I figured having it on Steam would be more convenient.

You'd think so.

It's not! As part of the first time launch, it installs "The EA App" anyway, which also means it found and uninstalled whatever version of Origin I still had (I wasn't aware I'd ever reinstalled Origin since my HDD crash). As part of this process, it also asked me for my EA password, I misread Firefox's stored password incorrectly, and went through the trouble of resetting my EA account with a new password before linking it to Steam. To my surprise, EA's been sitting on my seven year old cloud save from the few minutes I played of this on Origin in 2017, and asks if I want to import it. Sure, I guess.

So that's ten minutes down the drain before I can even boot up the game. Okay, fine, the game finally launches. Gotta wait while it boots up The EA App each time before it boots into the game, gotta wait for the title screen logo animation, gotta wait for a 10-15 second load screen because even though this game came out in 2012 it's gotta ping some always-online "Autolog" leaderboard whatever. Once it connects, it has to do a slow cinematic pan across your car, telling you what your online rivals have done since the last time you connected, and what kind of equipment you have on your car.

All told, every time you boot up Most Wanted 2012, you're looking at a 30-45 second wait before the game actually hands over control and lets you start driving.

Pull the accelerator and instantly Most Wanted SCREAMS at me:

Fair enough. I'm using a Dualshock 4, and the Playstation 4 did not release until over a full year after this game. Click to the menu it's asking of me and see that the control binding menu is awful -- it's one of those super oldschool ones, like binding keys one by one in Doom 2. I have no idea what these buttons are supposed to be in terms of Xbox equivalents, and I realize that Steam has this thing called "Steam Input" that's supposed to be handling all of this anyway. Steam Input generally makes my Dualshock 4 look like an Xbox controller to most games.

I exit out of Most Wanted, force Steam Input to "on" (I was messing with its settings recently, so I thought maybe it was disabled), and relaunch the game again. Wait for the EA App to boot up, gotta wait through the title screen logos, gotta wait 10-15 seconds on a loading screen, gotta wait another 5-10 on the cinematic pan across my car. I have now spent a minute and a half total waiting for this game to boot while I troubleshoot this.

Pull the accelerator. Instead of it complaining about my controller, straight up nothing happens. That's weird. The Start button works, the analog stick seems to work in the pause menu, but the triggers do not. The face buttons also do nothing. Upon checking the settings, that's because Most Wanted has settled on keyboard mode, even though it's clearly accepting some controller input. After poking at it, it does not seem like there's any way to get it to see my controller.

This makes Most Wanted a special game, because a lot of games I play will happily accept that Steam Input is telling it I have an Xbox controller connected even when I absolutely do not. But this is the rare 1% that seems to be incompatible. It's time to bring in the big guns.

Mayflash makes a terrific little passthrough device called the Magic NS, and the general purpose of this device is that it lets you use any controller on any other platform. An Xbox controller on a Playstation? No sweat. A Playstation controller on the Switch? It'll handle it. If you upgrade to the Magic NS2, you even get full gyro support. Every NS device also doubles as a Bluetooth dongle, so you can stay wireless if that's your thing. I love it so much I bought two, because generally they're only about $20.

A Magic NS2 for my Switch... and Magic NS1 for my PC. Strictly for scenarios like this, where a game expects an Xbox controller and Steam Input fails its camouflage.

Plug the NS1 in, connect my Dualshock 4, and once again boot up Most Wanted and wait the 45 seconds to get through the EA app, logos, loading, and the cinematic pan across my car. More than two full minutes now looking at this junk, and that's not counting the time spent outside of the game troubleshooting this in menus or digging out dongles or whatever.

Pull the accelerator... and my car starts to drive! I can steer! It works! Of course it works. The Magic NS never lets me down. I pull up to the first race event...

Press J and K to start the event.

Those are, uh. Those are keyboard keys. I'm using a controller. The controller is fully functional. You don't need to tell me this in keyboard controls. This isn't going to be one of those games, is it? The kind that still tells you everything in the keyboard shortcuts no matter what?

I drop into the menus again and see Most Wanted is still stuck on Keyboard mode and won't let me switch to anything else, even though I'm clearly using a fully functional controller now. This can't be right. But then I remember: Steam Input is still turned on, and when I forced Steam Input to be on, Most Wanted got stuck in this keyboard mode.

Exit out of the game, tell Steam to turn off Steam Input for this specific game only, and relaunch. Wait through all that crap again. We're up to three minutes just waiting for the game to start, and probably closing in on 20 minutes since I first decided I wanted to try Most Wanted.

Pull the accelerator, it works, drive up to the first event, and...

Pull LT and RT to start the event.

FINALLY. HOLY SHIT.

On the plus side: this game controls a lot better than I remember. It's a decent middleground between Criterion's heavier-feeling Hot Pursuit (2011) and the snappier Burnout Paradise. Though I could do with a lot less full screen flashing or the fact that Autolog alerts hide the minimap for some reason.

youtube

Not pictured, but the "always online" nature can also be frustrating if you pause, unpause, and find you have to quickly re-pause again a second time. That second pause will actually incur a loading spinner because it hasn't finished syncing with the server from the first pause, apparently. This game is going on 12 years old.

Anyway. This was a nightmare.

HOT BONUS

"The EA App" now starts up with Windows and is nagging me to enter the login credentials I already entered last night. I have to go through extra steps to get it to leave me alone and not do this

THE RIDE NEVER ENDS

#need for speed #most wanted #criterion games #ea #electronic arts #origin #the ea app #steam #valve #xbox #steam input #troubleshooting #mayflash #Youtube

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techni-kolor · 8 months

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My slightly deranged HC that Nikolai Gogol is visually impaired!

So this is truly off the rails, but watching the anime I had an odd realization that his mannerisms really suggest a reduced and/or blurred visual field to me.

First up? This seemed quite strange to me. It took a while to pinpoint it, but Nikolai is sitting with his blind side towards Sigma. Which is odd. Wouldn't he prefer to keep Sigma within his view? Even his peripherals would give some sort of awareness if he still wanted to face the water. So why not sit on the reverse side? Because it doesn't matter anyway! Notice how Nikolai only reacts when Sigma calls his name. He was already planning on using his hearing to track Sigma's movements rather than his sight. I also think it's interesting how his uncovered eye narrows as he smiles. Maybe it's meant to portray emotion, maybe it's related to his plans. I just think it's interesting when combined with the rest of the scene.

This scene always struck me as interesting! Who aims a gun without looking? Especially when using an incredibly precise spacial splicing ability? Possibly someone who can't see well enough for it to matter. With the proximity here Nikolai wouldn't need amazing aim. Just shooting straight ahead would certainly be a kill shot. Which is also why I think that his head down, eyes covered position here isn't an effort to conceal his identity. He doesn't need to bother when he is murdering the officer anyway and is already planning to introduce himself to Mushitaro.

Violence, however, brings me to my next point!

The only time we see Nikolai attempt to shoot someone who was actually prepared for it (disregarding Mr. Tonan and the officer who were both unprepared) he misses abysmally. And to be fair, Atsushi is supernaturally quick and agile. It's simply interesting to me that Nikolai can't seem to aim unless he is less than a meter away from his target and they are sitting completely still.

This scene really could be anything! I just think it's interesting that someone as coordinated and graceful as Nikolai would fall flat on his face. Maybe struggling to properly access depth or missing unknown obstacles because of a reduced visual field? Or maybe he just had a clumsy moment! It happens!

This next bit involves a lot of uncertainty! Since Nikolai has some eccentric mannerisms in general. But I find it curious how many involve him shutting his eyes. Even during combative situations.

Here!

And here!

Eyes shut again!

To be honest? His eyes are shut during a lot of his prison monolog!

With an honorable mention to this scene! Which likely has more to do with Nikolai's morality than his eyesight but still is unprecedented in the anime! (No iris at ALL)

Although speaking of Nikolai and Meursault, I just want to yell to the void that maybe Nikolai felt the need to yank Fyodor up Like ThatTM to see his face clearly? From approximately two inches away.

And to wrap up this Red String Board of Doom, I'd like to also mention that Nikolai would likely be albino if this was not anime! I have serious doubts that his skin, eye, and hair color are anything except an aesthetic choice but it is interesting when albinism typically comes with other effects. Such as poor vision!

If anyone stayed through this entire ramble, thank you! And please note this as my disclaimer that everything here is purely speculation and definitely reaching in most areas! I'm not an expert of any sort and just wanted to share my headcanon! ☆

#bsd theories #Nikolai Gogol bsd #bsd headcanons

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faulty-writes · 10 months

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[ This is a continuation of the Katsuki Bakugou x Male!Reader headcanon set. Fair warning there are implied feelings between other characters at the end of this. I hope all of you enjoy it! Again Happy Pride y'all! ]

[ Headcanons Summary: Your efforts to get closer to Katsuki and accept your sexuality continue. Luckily, an opportunity arises at the Fireworks Festival. While you were also ordered by Best Jeanist to be vigilant during the event, Katsuki proves to show a little jealousy when it comes to you and by the end of the night, turns a little possessive. ]

As luck would have it, Best Jeanist invited his agency's members and interns to the Fireworks Festival to support the community and act as a safety measure in case villain's attack. You saw this as an opportunity to make your move as Camie suggested.

On the day of the Fireworks Festival, Camie helped pick your outfit claiming that Katsuki "Totes won't be able to resist you!" which you hoped worked considering when you arrived, he looked stunned when he saw you and shyly glanced away. Although you didn't have much time to process this because Best Jeanist gave the laydown of what you had to do during the festival.

"You are welcome to partake in the events and games, but I require you to patrol the perimeter of the festival every hour," he explained, gazing over his employees but lingering on Katsuki and you. 'I hope Bakugou treats them well,' he thought. If not, he'd try his hardest to set him straight, but knew matters of the heart were to be settled between those involved.

Despite wanting to make a move, your thoughts were jumbled, and you weren't sure how to approach Katsuki, even if you did, there was no telling what his reaction would be. You still remember how tender and sore your neck was from the last time he was angry at you. So, you decided to play a few festival games to calm yourself.

"Ah, come on!" you shouted, lowering the BB gun. Maybe a shooting game wasn't the ideal way to win a prize. "Are you having trouble?" came a deep voice, and you turned to see Shinya Kamihara also known as the Ninja Hero: Edgeshot. As usual, he was dressed in his hero costume and took the BB gun from you. "Allow me to try," he insisted, gently cupping your chin with one hand before turning to the booth and more importantly, the moving red targets.

Katsuki became extremely angry when he saw you with Shinya who handed you a stuffed animal and kissed you on the cheek. As he approached, he demanded, "What the hell is going on here?!" Shinya smiled from underneath his mask. "Ah, Bakugou it's wonderful to-" he glared at the older man. "What's the big idea, huh? Trying to win him over or something!?" he said before unleashing his quirk.

After the shooting game booth incident, you were in shock and needed more time to think. Katsuki cared enough to impress you. But he only did it out of jealousy or so you suspected given how Shinya not only won you a prize but kissed your cheek. Why did he do that anyway and was Katsuki jealous because another man gave you attention? There were so many questions and so few answers.

"Hey dumbass!" you heard him call. The sun was setting, and you were almost finished with your patrol. "Oh, h-hi Bakugou uh-ah!" He grabbed you by the front of your shirt and pulled you close. Your face flushed as you stared into his red eyes. "You're watching the fireworks show with me," he said before releasing you.

You were tempted to call Camie and have her save you. However, she would only tell you not to give up and to "Totes go after him!" You still struggled to accept the fact that you were gay and when you thought about it, love was scary. But you were a hero and couldn't back down from this challenge, right?

You decided to get cotton candy before walking to the fireworks show entrance where Katsuki was waiting for you. You nervously ate as you sat in the grass beside him. "Hey!" he shouted, almost making you choke. "I want a piece," he said. "Uh, it's nearly gone but okay," you replied, handing him a piece before helping yourself to the last bite.

As the fireworks continued, you smiled at the colorful hues and images blasting into the sky. Your hands were curled into the grass and Katsuki grinned, placing his hand over yours and catching your attention. "Uh, B-Bakugou what are-" You shivered when you saw his angry expression. "Focus on the fireworks," he demanded, and you nodded before turning your head back.

"Come on!" Katsuki grabbed your wrist and pulled you to your feet after the fireworks show ended. "Ah, hey! W-where are we going?" you asked as you were dragged past the closed food stands and game booths. "None of your damn business!" Katsuki replied, which didn't make sense to you unless he wanted it to be a surprise.

You cried out when he pinned you against the wall of the nearby building outside the Fireworks Festival. "I'm hungry," he stated, leering down at you. Despite your rapid heart rate and flushed cheeks, you look at him confused. "W-what do you mean you're hungry? Get something to eat! There's a bunch of restaurants and-" You were silenced by his hand grasping your jaw. "I'm craving something else dumbass!" he growled.

His lips tasted sweet and whether that was due to the cotton candy he ate or just his natural taste was unknown. His kiss was desperate and sent shivers down your spine. "Mm, wait!" you said, leaning back and panting desperately. "I...I t-thought you were straight," you commented, making him growl. "Does it matter what gender I like, dumbass! I like you, so shut the hell up and kiss me!" he demanded.

"Should we intervene?" Shinya questioned, turning to Tsunagu. The two of them were sitting atop a building together, perhaps on night patrol. In actuality, they had been watching you and Katsuki. If Keigo were here, Tsunagu assumed he'd make a humorous joke about being 'chaperone hawks.' He shook his head in reply. "I trust Bakugou will not hurt them," he said before walking away. "I also believe you have interfered enough," he stated as Shinya followed him.

Once they were far away enough, Tsunagu turned to him. "How did you know young Bakugou would react so negatively to your advancements towards Y/n?" he questioned. Shinya chuckled in response. "I have reacted and felt a similar way when others speak to you," he admitted before glancing up at the stars. "It is brave to be a hero, but even braver to be yourself in this otherwise judgemental world," he smiled, turned to face the taller man, and cupped his cheek. "They will be fine," he assured.

#bakugou x male reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #bakugo x male reader #katsuki x y/n #bakugou x reader #katsuki x male reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #faulty writes: katsuki bakugou: 23 #faulty writes: katsuki bakugou: headcanons: 23 #mentions of other characters

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