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#then tune in when next mediocre one starts

placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 3 months

Text

Reign down on me - Part 6

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: Hi, helooooo! Sorry for the long update times, my life has been super hectic. So this chapter didn't go where I thought it would end up going, so there's some things I think I said I was gonna explore that will be in the next chapter instead. However I hope you enjoy this one 💕 thanks for waiting

-🐺-

There was a quiet hum pulsing through the room, the buzz of everyone around you tending to their own conversations and hoppy drinks which allowed you to relax and attempt to tune out the busy environment. After another successful mission, the 141 wanted to unwind- which apparently meant going to the pub for drinks, darts and, according to them, mediocre grub. Although after dining fine on MRE’s for the majority of your life, you had to disagree. That sausage and mash was the some of the best you’d tried.

Ghost had forced you to change into some civvies before you’d left, which meant doing another embarrassing repeat of the shopping experience hed’d taken you out on. You still weren’t convinced you were able to put together a good outfit, fussing and trying a few different combinations of things, but once Ghost had looked you up and down and given you a nod of approval you’d relaxed.

When you’d all gotten to the pub and you’d seen that less people stared at you while in your new attire, you were soon thankful for the change. A hybrid in military gear drew attention, it probably made people think the area was being worked, but a casually dressed and collared hybrid was apparently nothing to get too concerned about. Huh.

Once you’d pressed yourself to the back of the booth, you barely worried about being out in public anymore. The world was the confines of the table, the edge of it stretching no further than your now trusted teammates. That became all the more true after you were offered a drink and then another and another. Once the buzz had started, the last of your lingering anxieties around being out floated to the back of your mind and disappeared like smoke. None of the other patrons were even a blip in the back of your fuzzy little head.

“So Pup, what’d you reckon?” Gaz asked, spinning his pint glass around in his hand. “‘Nother drink?”

How many were you actually allowed, you wondered, you’d already had a few. When you turned to Ghost to try and gauge your answer, he was too busy talking in hushed tones to Soap, so instead you employed your backup. Price smiled wryly the second you clocked eyes with him across the table.

“Like most things, Pup, this ain’t a test,” Price chuckled. “You know your own tolerance don’t you?”

“You think I’ve done a lot of drinking before?” You asked back, innocently dodging his question.

You twiddled with your own glass, rolling it between your palms and watching the dregs inside twirl. Bubbles of the beer still continued to fizzle across your palette even as you watched it dance below you. The hypnotic show only served to further make you aware of the hazy sheen across your eyes, and you were sure that if you stood up you’d probably feel like you were walking on foamy clouds.

You’d have to be careful. Wouldn’t do to overindulge, you tried to remind yourself. Though that voice was quiet compared to the euphoric beast in you that cried out for more, that wanted to keep going until you forgot about every sordid thought in your head as easily as you forgot about how uncomfortable crowds made you.

“Well you sunk those pretty quickly,” Gaz said, motioning his glass toward you.

“Not to mention Branhaven has one of the highest rates of contraband seizure for a UK base,” Price noted, finishing the last of his drink. “Reckon you’ve probably indulged a time or two, no?”

You couldn’t conceal your smile. Though your ears soon pinned to your head, realising that the implication that you were engaging in illegal behaviour was floated out wide in the open. It was true, hybrids would often do chores or other kinds of favours for human soldiers in exchange for goods, which often meant working for booze or cigarettes or stronger stuff on occasion. You’d been more than happy to help with boot polishing and patch sewing on an occasion or two. Some nights it helped with the pain, on others it just kept you from going mad.

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone your secrets,” Gaz winked. “I’ll go get us another round.”

You bit your lip and nodded, watching as he made his way over to the busy bar, casually floating around a group of men before seizing an opportunity to break through to the oderous wood top. Once at the counter, he folded his arms over it and leaned his body out ever so slightly, his hips angling back toward the table.

It was hard to tell if it was entirely the drink, but as you watched him, you found yourself really looking what you saw. Gaz was a well built man, lean and proportioned well, but it was his face that your eyes were stuck on. He looked good that night, his smiles came easy, the full ones that showed his fang-like teeth. They glinted in the soft light when he turned around to say something to the man next to him, shining like pearls. His shoulders were relaxed, back untensed, his body shook with laughter when the other man made a joke.

Truth be told you couldn’t be sure how long you stared after him, but it was safe to say your roving eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

“See somethin’ you like over there?” Price asked, jerking his head back to the Sergeant.

You blinked slowly. Your head felt like it was rushing with syrup, getting flustered but too tipsy to respond with anything smart.

“What?”

“You’re lookin’ awfully hard is all,” he shrugged.

The room felt like it heated a few degrees. In an effort to not meet that crinkly eyed grin of your captain, your gaze floated along the arm hed slung over the back of Gaz's chair. However, that only gave you more problems. You immediately imagined him slinging that arm over you, holding you close and sharing his heady body heat. Smelling his scent, bathing him in yours.

It’s happening again!

Your ears perked up like lightning rods when you realised that some baser part of your nature was taking over yet another time that week. The feral little creature that usually kicked around somewhere in your hindbrain was clawing its way to the forefront. Now you were practically panting after half your team. You needed to get a hold of yourself, you reasoned, surely you weren’t going to give into whatever random desires you were getting for closeness. Stupid Pack bond - or whatever it was that Ghost had chalked it up to.

“I, uh- there’s pool over there,” you shrugged lamely, gesturing to the tables just off to Gaz’s right.

Someone managed to pot a ball not long after you’d said it. Your ears tilted toward the sound, then swivelled again when you heard Gaz’s familiar huffs and puffs of effort. He was now stepping toward you with a trayful of glasses, clenching his teeth whenever he came close to spilling or bumping into someone, walking ever slower with the wobbling glasses as he realised how precariously they were balanced. His muscles bulged a little with the effort.

Price caught your stupid staring again, but he didn’t say anything about it this time. His eyes just narrowed knowingly at you, not with accusation but with concealed humour. You could tell by the subtle pull of his lip.

“Gazzy. You up for a game?” Price barked.

“Depends, what are we playing?” Gaz asked, raising a brow as he snatched his pint.

He took a sip of it, coating his upper lip in a little sheen of foam. He licked it off in short order.

“The wolf wants to play pool,” Price said.

Price once again interrupted your brain fog from taking over. Knowing full well that he would be wearing that same stupid ‘I know what you’re thinking’ look on his face, you looked up at Gaz and reached out for your own drink. That one had to be your last before - god forbid - you were left drooling over anyone else.

“Oh yeah? You a secret pool master?” Gaz asked.

“Oh…no,” you clarified, awkwardly swallowing a gulp of beer. “I’ve watched it being played enough times though. I always wanted to try it.”

You’d never actually been that bothered about it, you preferred to blend in rather than get caught in competition, especially when it came to games with humans. However as far as any of them were concerned, it was your life’s dream. Anything, as long as it stopped anyone from thinking that you were obsessed with your teammate.

“You wanna pair up with me then? Reckon you should be on the winning team for your first game.”

“Pfft, winning team? Sure that’s with you, son?” Price scoffed.

“Beat you last time didn’t I, old man?”

“Fuck off.”

Price took a dramatic gulp of his beer then loudly pushed off from the booth, marching toward the pool table as if it were a mission objective. You laughed noiselessly to yourself, but soon had to stop yourself from choking on your own drink when the little demon inside you commented on how nice his big broad shoulders were, perfect for holding you close.

How were you going to survive the night?

You looked back over at Ghost to try and regain some sense of composure only to see that Soap was shuffling along the bench to leave and your handler was about to follow him. Giving him a slight head tilt in question, you wondered where they were going. To which, Ghost answered by pulling you in close, wrapping his arm around you and leaving you practically choking on his forearm for a second, before he released you with a messy pat on the head.

“We’re goin’ for a smoke,” he chuckled, watching your annoyed glare with amusement while you fixed your hair. “Be good while I’m gone.”

The smile lines broke out under his eyes, and for a ditzy second all you could do was stare. All thoughts of telling him off left your mind, instead you were stuck looking above his face mask, drinking in the glittering pools of his irises and the blush tinged tops of his cheeks. Your tail wagged traitorously when he continued to stare back.

“What?” he huffed, smile still not leaving his eyes.

Your entire body flamed at being caught this time.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, shrinking back into the chair.

You hoped that the chair would swallow you.

“Silly thing.”

Ghost gave you a scratch behind the ears then finally slid off to join Soap. However, you weren’t left alone to your own self-deprecating thoughts. Gaz was watching you, his lips curving in amusement. He started to twirl his glass again, spinning it around on it’s axis.

“So how do you like being with the 141 so far then?”

The question caught you off guard, but you had to admit it was a welcome distraction. You unpinned your ears from your shameful, burning head and relaxed once more.

“I like it,” you said simply.

“Oh yeah? How’s staying with Ghost?”

“Oh uh, Ghost is nice. It’s been cool having my own room,” you said, smiling as you thought about your big comfy bed. “He’s been really good to me.”

Gaz snorted out a laugh before he could stop himself.

“What?” You glared. “What’s so funny?”

“Nice isn’t the first word I’d use to describe Ghost, but….” He shrugged.

“Ghost is nice though,” you frowned, body growing tense at the hint of any accusations of the contrary.

“Sure, when he’s not telling awful jokes or burning holes into your head with that stare he has,” Gaz laughed, outstretching his hands and wiggling his fingers. “I’m from Manchester and I’m gonna steal your soul with me spooky eyes.”

You giggled at his terrible impression, back unfurling from its defensive hunch, then hit his hands away playfully. Normally you would’ve worried about the repercussions of doing something like that to a superior, but the drink was still buzzing through your head and if that weren’t enough Gaz’s smile shone brightly back at you.

“Ghost isn’t spooky,” you affirmed.

“Seriously? Next you’ll tell me that you don’t live in a big haunted castle together.”

“We don’t!” You laughed.

“I bet it has skeleton decorations everywhere. Skull pillows and skeleton paintings, table and chair legs shaped into bones.”

“No!”

“Really? Damn, the man isn’t as predictable as I thought…but honestly tell me. Does he have little skeleton jammies? You can’t seriously tell me that he doesn’t keep the skull look going when he gets home. He probably sits and watches Netflix with his skull top and bottoms and skeleton cuddly toy and skeleton sockies. No? Genuinely?”

You only continued to laugh and shake your head, denying his silly accusations. Gaz smiled back at you, shifting his eyes over you as if he were cataloguing every sign of your delight.

“Oi, time for hilarities is over,” Price said, appearing through the parting crowds. “get ready to get your arses handed to ya. I got us a table”

“You sound awfully confident, Captain,” Gaz said, scraping his chair across the rough floors.

“Because I’m not drunk this time.”

“Don’t need you to be drunk to beat you. Got Pup on my team, we can’t lose.”

-🐺-

“Maybe I should sit this one out,” you murmured, flinching as the cue white ball barely even tapped the yellow ball that you were trying to hit.

Your ears pinned low to your head and your temperature grew as you looked up and down the table and failed to see how you were going to pot even a single ball at the rate you were going. When you’d watched the game being played in the past, you’d assumed it was easy, but apparently the human soldiers were just skilled at it.

Your failure was made all the worse by the fact that Gaz and Price had very dutifully stood and explained the rules and how to use the pool cue when the game had begun. In fact Price had been so thorough on his explanation it prompted Gaz to assert once again that you were going to beat his arse easy. However…

You had taken two attempts and in that time had only nudged that mockingly cheerful yellow ball once. The first attempt where you almost missed even hitting the cue ball altogether didn’t bear thinking about. Meanwhile Price had already potted four. You chewed your lip, hoping Gaz wouldn’t be too annoyed that his tutoring was apparently falling on deaf ears.

“Aw, don’t worry Pup. You’ll get it,” Price chuckled.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it. It’s your first game!” Gaz reassured

He leaned over then and zeroed in on a striped orange ball, setting his cue across the back of his roughened hand and sawing it back and forth like a wary snake. He’d taken off his brown trucker jacket at the beginning of the match, so now his arms were out in full display, practically suffocating inside the short sleeves he wore and bursting to get out. Your eyes grazed along the cue and danced between the thick hairs on the backs of his forearms and up to his biceps, mesmerised by the shifting muscle.

You missed seeing him finally hit the cue ball, but your ears twitched at the sound and your heart sunk when you both saw and heard the resulting ‘plonk’ of the orange stripe rolling merrily into its pocket. You were so screwed.

“Gonna hold back on making eyesight jokes now, Garrick?” Price questioned, already lining up his next shot.

“Only if you manage to get that blue,” Gaz winked, pointing to a ball that sat nowhere near the cueball.

“Easy, I’ll just hit the ball off the side, let it bank left and then it’ll roll into the pocket,” he grinned.

“Oh yeah, easy,” Gaz scoffed, nudging you with his shoulder. “Watch this, Pup. Captain’s about to embarrass ‘imself.”

“Oi. Keep your shit opinions to yourself!”

Gaz rolled his eyes, but nevertheless the two of you watched in concentrated silence as Price actually started to line up the shot he called. After a few tense seconds of watching him adjust and readjust once more he took a breath then whacked the ball with all the force of a train going through a brick wall. The white ball smacked into the fuzzy green side then banked just shy of the blue striped ball, rolling furiously into the pocket straight after. It landed with a heavy thunk to boot.

“Fuck me,” Price muttered to himself, immediately grabbing for his beer straight after.

“Wahey! Look at that Pup, we’ve got two shots,” Gaz said, heavily patting your shoulder. “We’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” you laughed weakly, handing him the cue. “You got this.”

“Woah woah woah,” Gaz said, tilting his head dramatically. “We’re a team, we got this.”

“Well it is your shot.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

He shoved the pool cue back into your hands, but he didn’t step away from you after. He pressed you insistently toward the table and caged his arms between yours, taking your hands with his and adjusting them up the smooth wood. You shivered at the feeling of his warm breath tickling at your neck and teasing through your hair. You stiffened up like drying clay when he moulded himself closer into you.

“Don’t freeze up like that, you’re not under attack. Look, I’m gonna show you how to hold it properly and that way you’ll get a good hit alright?”

You chanced a look back at him and caught a look into those molten honey eyes, knowing full well you were a goner. You’d just have to go with whatever he said. After giving him a gentle little nod, you swallowed the lump in your throat and turned back toward the table, allowing him to slowly arrange your body so that you were in the supposed perfect stance.

His hands were silk, gliding delicately across your arms so that you would place yourself how he wanted. You had to hold yourself back from shivering every time his touch came. Once you were standing how he wanted, he took to laughing and tutting at you until you got your finger into the correct position to support the cue, and only when that was Gaz certified did he allow you to start readying your shot.

“Ok, take it away, Pup. You got this!”

After a couple of practice slides, you drew the cue back one final time, holding your breath as you prepared to send it flying forward and into the purple ball that Gaz had lined up for you. You finally took your shot, watching with wide eyes as the cueball barrelled forward and shunted straight into the purple, sending it toward the pocket while it landed neatly beside a couple more of your balls, ready for the next shot. As soon as the purple landed fully down, you were jumping up in an instant.

“I hit it! I hit it and scored a point,” you said, full smile beaming as you turned to Gaz. “Did you see how fast it went? I wanna do that again!”

Gaz’s sharp canines were on full display again. His eyes travelled low down on your body and he chuckled, and only when you followed his eyeline did you see that your tail was furiously wagging up a storm behind you. It wafted up a big draft of air, blowing gusts through the old newspapers that were piled on the low table behind you.

“I saw. You did good,” Gaz praised, laughing while rubbing the little spot on your cheek that he always did.

“Yes, Pup - very good,” Price added dryly, shaking his head while taking another swig of his drink.

With that the newspapers behind you turned from almost the front pages, toward the nonsense stories at the back.

“What’s got you so excited, fuzzy lugs?”

You turned and saw Soap leaning over the end of the table, slowly swirling his whisky while he assessed the game. His blue eyes rolled from one end and to the other then settled on you, pinning you in place for a moment until you’d realised that he’d asked you a question. You bit your lip and shrugged, trying to downplay yourself a little as you remembered that your victory was being celebrated a little too early.

“I potted a ball,” you shrugged, trying to hide your mellowed tone with a drink.

“Oh did ye, aye? You’ll have to do it again for me and Ghost,” he grinned.

Soap motioned his head to the left, pointing toward Ghost who was taking his time wandering back to Soap’s side. You could smell the cigarette smoke cloying to him as he walked by. It made your nose wrinkle. Though you soon forgot all about it when he shot you a wink.

“Gonna show us your new skills?” He asked.

Now everyone was watching you. No pressure.

You gulped and made your way back to the table side, using your cue like a walking stick. Poking your tongue out, you stood for a second and swayed a little on your unsteady tipsy feet, thinking through your next move. Your eyes roved over the balls, moving between the two most likely candidates until you settled on the green.

After looking up and confirming everyone was still staring, you shuddered. However Gaz gave you an encouraging smile, which spurred you on all the more. A few awkward seconds passed while you tried to reform yourself into the same position Gaz put you in before. Even in your drunken state you still recalled most of the ways he’d shown that you were supposed to position yourself, all the while keeping your hands further up the stick so that you could hit harder and keeping your finger ridgid against it.

You slid it back and forth, once, then another two times and finally you made your move. The cue thwacked into the cueball and sent it rocketing into the green, sending the green ball rolling forward and flying toward the left side pocket. The ball began to lose its momentum just toward the end, it slowed just a little more and then a little more and just when your ears started to collapse downward in disappointment, it managed to creep into the pocket at the last second.

“Holy shit I did it! I did it all by myself!” You squealed, perking back up again and grinning like an idiot.

You turned, making sure everyone had seen it, but before you could take stock everyone you were surrounded by two massive chests. The pressure came quickly crushing you up like a scrapped car. Though you didn’t mind, when your panicked mind realised they were hugging you, you settled into it and wagged your tail.

“That’s my good Pup,” Ghost crooned, his voice even more gravelly than usual.

“You did so good!” Gaz whooped.

They both parted from you and just when you’d adjusted to having full lung capacity again, Soap all but whacked all the air from you with a couple of big pats on the back.

“Well done, furball,” he said lowly, throwing you a sly smile. “Knew you had it in ya. You’re my wee pack mate after all, aren’t ya?”

Your tail wagged even harder at that.

“Yes, very good,” Price barked, smiling despite the faux stern expression he tried to hold. “You taking your next turn or not, Pup?”

“I get another one?” You gawped, looking at the last few balls in awe.

“You get one every time you pot. And if you don’t get on with your next one I’m confiscating it from you.”

“Don’t think that’s in the rules, old man,” Gaz laughed.

“Gotta give myself a chance here, Garrick. You two have bloody hustled me,” Price retorted.

“Oh you think you’re hustled now? Just wait for this next turn.”

-🐺-

You helped Gaz win that game in the end, and as a reward he insisted on carrying you to the taxi on his back. Well, that’s what he intended anyway. He stumbled just as he got out the pub door and collapsed in a fit of drunken laughter. At that point Ghost took over and hoisted you up on his shoulder, carrying you like a sack of potatoes.

Had you been in any state to complain you might’ve, however you were still riding on a winning high and your head was full of bubbles and fizz. No matter how hard you tried to stop it, your tail continued to sloppily wag even while Ghost carried you, and for the rest of the night he complained about having fur in his mouth. Normally something like that would worry you, thinking you’d annoyed him, but you’d been so carefree you fell asleep on him once he’d lugged you to the sofa.

You’d woken the next morning stretched out fully over a sleeping Ghost and Soap, jumping up in mortification when you realised what you’d done and running to your bed for what felt like an extra five minutes of sleep. Then as a grand result of your wild night out (compared to anything else you’d ever done), you were exhausted the whole next day. So much so that you’d been flagging through a lot of your exercises, but luckily Ghost went easy and structured training so that you got more breaks and got easier tasks to complete. Whether that was more for you or him, you couldn’t really decide.

“Sleepy Pup,” Ghost chuckled, rubbing your cheek with the back of his greasy hand. “We’ll get an early night tonight, huh?”

You hummed in response. The sound of him cleaning his rifle had been relaxing, the cloth fibres smoothly running along the barrel while you leaned against his leg and caught up on a little napping. Normally he would send you off to do something while he did upkeep, but given your low energy he was quite happy to have you rest with him while he worked.

“Alright then, Pup. Time to head off home,” Ghost grunted, giving your shoulder a gentle shake. “We just gotta swing by Price’s office first.”

“Ok,” you said through a yawn.

Your tail crooked off to the side more than usual, and you could feel the fur on your ears sticking up like an animal that had just emerged from hibernation. Had there been a mirror around, you knew you’d be jumping back from it,though luckily that wasn’t the case. Instead you followed listlessly along after Ghost, plodding through the hallways like a mindless golem after its master.

“You ok to wait out here?”

It had barely even registered that you’d reached Price’s door. However when your mind came too, you were out in the dingy hallway that proceeded his room. The two of you standing by the chipped paint patch that looked suspiciously like someone had slammed a chunk out of the wall. You slowly nodded when you finally caught up, the joint in your neck rolling as if automated.

“Try not to fall asleep out here. I’m not carrying you again,” he chuckled. “You need anything, just knock.”

You nodded again and watched him quietly open the door and click it shut. He left you alone in the corridor, staring bleary eyed at the flickering light, absentmindedly falling back against the wall and counting out the seconds between its full beam and little strobe dance. Without fail it would flicker every five to seven seconds.

Footsteps marched down the hallway in the distance, and your ears twitched to their rhythm. The boots slapped against the floors at a quick pace, and slowly muffled voices echoed from out of obscurity and rang through your ears. The two men became clearer by the second, and before long they were crossing your path, just about to walk past you until one of them caught eyes with you and halted as if stopped by an invisible force.

“Care to explain what you’re doing leaning around like that, hybrid?” he growled.

You frowned at him. The man had dark hair closely cropped to his head, save for a small combed over patch on the top and big bushy eyebrows that fell heavy over his dark eyes. His friend meanwhile was almost completely bald, but had a striking scar across his cheek and a birthmark on his neck. Both of them seemed young, though not young enough that they were too fresh to think about messing with you apparently.

“I’m waiting for my handler to finish his meeting with Captain Price,” you said evenly, figuring it was easiest just to answer him.

He didn’t look satisfied with your answer though, his eyes lit up in challenge and his jaw twinged as if biting through bone. All traces of tiredness left you in that instant. Whatever was about to happen couldn’t be good, you were experienced enough to know that much.

“What was that?” the man said, tilting his head for emphasis.

His friend raised his brows, looking between the two with a vexed expression. He musn’t have been as familiar with hybrids, you thought dully, glancing at him while still keeping yourself focused on the combover man. If only one of them was going to be aggressive then defending yourself from whatever they were going to do would be easier.

“I said that I’m waiting for my handler,” you ground out, stiffening your posture.

“Waiting for your handler, sir,” the man corrected, his thick eyebrows casting a dark shadow over his eyes. “You have to show respect to your superior officers.”

You said nothing in response, only nodding your head once and gritting your teeth. Technically that was true, but given Ghost was a Lieutenant that meant that you likely outranked them (given that you were automatically ranked the same as your handler as a hybrid). Those assholes could kick rocks as far as you were concerned, you’d earned your right to speak on their level.

“Do you want a last chance to fix your attitude, hybrid?” he asked, tensing his arms as he leered over you.

His shadow flickered in the wavering light and you couldn’t help but think of him as a demon. His friend put a hand on his back and urged him to ‘just forget about it’, but still the man didn’t budge. He continued to loom over you and stare expectantly, though as far as you were concerned he could wait forever.

He didn’t though. The little shit, took your silence as insolence, and just when he was about to reach out and grab you, you strafed back from him and growled. The sound had the other man widening his eyes, but your main attacker only glared. It spurred him to come for you once again, but again he missed you and then failed to grab you another time after that.

“Get the fuck over here, you little-”

He reached out again to grab you, and finally he’d succeeded, clenching his hand painfully around your arm. However you weren’t going to let him manhandle you like that. You barked out a fearsome roar of defiance and dug your nails, more like claws, into the thick uncovered flesh of his arm and yanked it backward while spinning away from his grip. The yowl of pain he let out interrupted his sentence and sent his friend into a panic trying to drag the man back.

“What the fuck is going on out here?”

The shout echoed out across the concrete walls and all at once you all ceased your rebuttals. Your teeth stayed bared and you continued to pant, staring down the hallway as if possessed by a vengeful force. Meanwhile the two men looked fearfully over at the source of the voice, paling noticeably when they were forced to reckon with your fearsome handler.

Your attacker gulped, loud enough that your sensitive ears picked up on it and swivelled in his direction. He flinched at the movement, but soon straightened up. The pitiful man held out his arm and set his face in a grim expression, using his other hand to motion down at the bleeding claw marks.

“This hybrid attacked me, sir,” the man said, voice far more subdued than it had been before.

Ghost raised his eyebrow from behind his mask and looked over at you. Once he’d finally assessed the state you were in, he put his body in between the two of you and set to work calming you down. He took your collar in his hand and directed you to look at him, smoothing his hand down your back and blocking your view of the perceived hostile. After which, he took to gently shushing your panting and making calming noises.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked after a few moments, smoothing his hands over your ruffled hair.

“Well, what happened was-” the man’s friend began.

“Wasn’t fucking talking to you,” Ghost growled, not even sparing a look back.

Your mouth twitched into a smile, but Ghost didn’t indulge it. He set his eyes on you with a serious frown and forced a sigh from your lips. Part of you had thought that Ghost might be on your side, but now a little voice in the back of your mind was trying to scream past a crumbling barrier - it told you that maybe Ghost was going to give up on his gentle handler act. It would make sense, you thought, you were a bad soldier, you didn’t deserve the nice treatment to begin with.

“I was waiting for you and then…I was asked what I was doing and then, when I explained myself, I was told I wasn’t being respectful enough. He tried to grab me and I fought him off,” you said awkwardly, not wanting to meet his eyes any longer.

“Sir, that hybrid was leaning around - not even waiting at attention and when I tried to address their behaviour, I was given nothing but bad attitude back. I was trying to correct it’s bad behaviour when it saw fit to scratch me up like a fucking feral cat!” The man fumed.

“Correct their behaviour?” Ghost asked, turning to man finally. “How were you going to correct my hybrid’s behaviour exactly?”

Your heart dropped into your belly. Every instinct within you screamed out that you were about to meet Ghost’s iron fist at last. You were going to experience a lashing at the very least and at worst, he might take everything you had come to care about away from you. Hot salty tears brimmed on top of your cheeks, finally overflowing at the thought that Ghost might’ve only given you all those things so that it would hurt more having them taken away again.

You made sure to sob quietly, sniffling softly into your hand so that you wouldn’t antagonise Ghost any further. Tears won’t get you anywhere in the army, mutt, Maddox’s voice chirped in the back of your mind. You almost missed the man’s pathetic whimpering answer.

“Well…I was going to give it a slap, sir. Strike some sense into it.”

“I see,” Ghost replied, wide back still obscuring the man from you.

You doubted you’d make anything out past your tears anyway. In your mind everything was in the process of being ripped out of your life again, the team were going to look at you like the disappointment you knew you were, your things were going to be scrapped and stripped down to bare essentials once more and you’d never get to feel Simon the cuddlytoy’s soft fur ever again. However you were ripped out of your little pity parade with the sound of a hard smack.

Your ears perked up and you jumped back a pace or two, looking around for the source of the noise until you looked past Ghost and saw your attacker rubbing his cheek and groaning. For a second, you couldn't quite believe what had happened, but soon enough the man was wrenching his hand away from his face in an effort to save face and it revealed an angry looking red patch of skin. It really had happened - Ghost had slapped the soldier. 2

“You think that’s knocked some sense into you, Second Lieutenant?” Ghost sneered. “Don’t you fucking dare breathe in the direction of another handler’s hybrid ever again, nevermind think that you have the right to discipline them, you self-righteous little cunt. Get out of my sight the pair of ya.”

The man opened his mouth, about to say something in his defence until his friend nodded sharply and began to drag him away. Not wanting to cause more of a scene the man relented, but the way he glared as he turned told you that this wasn’t over. There was a new target on Ghost’s back now.

However, said back was turning away from you now and Ghost was facing you once again and pulling you into his arms. After a shocked second of fear, readying yourself to be hit or similarly reprimanded, you slowly came to realise he didn’t mean to hurt you at all. He was hugging you and rubbing your back, telling you that it was alright.

“Wh- what are you doing?” you asked feebly, trying your best not to hiccup or sniff through your words.

“Trying to comfort you, if you’ll let me,” Ghost snorted, slowly walking you backward.

You walked with him, but only grew more confused as he dragged you into Price’s office and forced you to sit on the old ratty couch and curl up with him. Out of the corner of your bleary eyes you saw Price sitting at his desk and watching you both with concern, gathering up a few bottles of water onto his desk. In front of you, Ghost wrapped his grip ever tighter round you and got you to bury your head into his neck.

“It’s over now, Pup,” Ghost said softly, smoothing over your salt scorched cheek. “You’re ok.”

“But…you- aren’t you going to punish me?” you asked, freeing yourself from his hold a little and drawing away from his usually relaxing scent so that you could make an effort to think straight.

“You’ve not done anything worth punishment,” he said gently.

“I scratched someone,” you whined, looking down at your still bloody hands with a wobbling lip.

“Someone that saw fit to break protocol and try to discipline a hybrid that wasn’t theirs. You had every right to defend yourself. You’re not going to be punished for that.”

“Especially not when the punishment he had in mind didn’t fit the crime in the first place. Corporal punishment is supposed to be reserved for serious offences Pup, not for leaning or having a bad attitude,” Price added, coming to sit at your other side. “Here, take a drink of this. You need it, you’ve made yourself unwell.”

He handed you a water bottle and gave you a serious look until you finally took it from him and slowly uncapped it. Through a series of uneasy sips, your heart began to regulate and your body stopped shaking. You hadn’t even realised that you had been shaking. The realisation made you sign, taking a couple breaths until you could clear your mind enough to reach some level of proper awareness again.

“I thought it was all going to go away,” you sighed, leaning against Ghost’s chest when you knew that things were normal again.

“What was going to go away?” Ghost asked, rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

You bathed in his and Price’s joint attentions, letting Ghost rub your cheek and Price smooth a hand over your shoulders and back. For a few luxurious seconds you let yourself revel in the fact that you were wrong. The stupid little panicky voice in your head was a liar. Everything was just as it had been.

“Everything,” you said eventually, voice barely a whisper. “I thought you were going to take all my things away and start treating me like they did at my old base. Thought I was going to be sent to the post…”

“Mark my words, anyone tries to lash you again and they’ll have the entire 141 to answer to, Pup,” Price said, voice coming through in a low growl.

“And I’d never take away your things,” Ghost vowed, cupping your cheek so that you had to look at him. “They’re given to you as payment for your service to us. They’re not for me or anyone else to take away, just like Price can’t rip my things from me. Nothing’s going away and you’re never going to be treated the way you were ever again. You’re ours, alright? We always protect our own.”

You stared at them both in disbelief, but couldn’t think of anything to say. The exhaustion and the upset combined and you were left feeling more drained than you had been in days. Instead you settled down back into Ghost’s collar bones and let yourself be petted and fussed over, sleepily letting your eyes close for the last time that day.

“Just wait till Soap and Gaz hear about this. That bastard’ll be lucky to see sunrise tomorrow,” you only just heard Price whisper darkly, before scratching a calloused hand over your ears.

“Now now, Price,” Ghost murmured back. “Gotta make it look like an accident.”

#reign down on me #simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader

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ch6douin · 1 year

Text

> A Vᴏɪᴄᴇ — IDV! SELF AWARE AU (3)

I felt like writing about this again idk why, that's all. Maybe I should start a series where i just drop chapters whenever i feel like it.

You put your phone down immediately.

...

What.the actual.fuck?

Okay, since you didn't ingest anything poisonous during the day that means that probably three characters from the game tried to contact you, and you didn't like how it went not even one bit. What did you do to deserve this? God, anything bad that you did during your mediocre life suddenly disappears from your head and turns into dust, you don't seem to understand why it has to be you. Every human makes mistakes, you're not suddenly being punished for something you did, right?

Maybe you don't want to think about this too much. You just need to clear your head, grab some water and try to think of what to do next.

The Mercenary's first contact with you was not the best, for him it wasn't so nice to suddenly hear a voice inside his head and something that forced him to move along with a strange presence, even if he was alone inside his room. He tried to break away from your control, but it was useless. Why after so much time inside this manor he only felt this now? He was wary of others, all the time, and that included you. Even if he didn't know what exactly you were, or if you had good intentions, he wouldn't let his guard down.

Or that's what he tried to do, it took a long time before he just let you take the lead, and control his movements as you please. But it happened, and he did the grave mistake to grow even the slightest bit comfortable with you, and how you would sometimes whisper in his ear how skilled of a survivor he was...And all the time, he couldn't help but smile at himself.

That's why the discovery of your "true identity" as the foolish characters thought was so surprising, especially to him. The betrayal fell upon him like a bucket of cold water. He felt stupid, just like when he was as a young man with hopes that we're stained and completely corrupted by the war and the blood of his comrades. He couldn't be more upset with you and with himself even more. Despite his stone cold demeanor in that chat, he typed those words filled with poison before he was shoved aside by Victor and Fiona.

okayy im just gonna put these first three survivors their perspective next year soo don't stay tuned☺️☺️

#identity v x reader #idvselfaware #idv x reader #self aware au #naib subedar #naib subedar x reader

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sapphic-agent · 4 months

Note

Sorry in advance for how long and wordy this gets.

My Hero Academia is squandered by the less than mediocre writing of Horikoshi. I will give him credit only on his ideas and concepts as the premise of the series and the setting are likely the only reason any of us are still tuning in, that and spite.

The show is too quickly paced and surprisingly for a complaint about a shonen, it's too action packed it doesn't offer much up in the way of quiet moments allowing characters to breath properly outside of conflicts and so I don't really care much about the conflicts they are involved in, especially when the thematic relevance of said conflict got spoon fed to me moments before it started in a shoehorned scene or a flashback.

Hori introduces themes of Heroic corruption regularly but never actually shows any corrupt hero's, and those that are said to be corrupt show very quickly that they aren't, usually at the detriment of others.

A complete reboot is necessary, slowing down the pacing immensely to the point where this war arc we are on will take place once they have all left UA. Have major events of the story take place staggered across the three years of UA, include "filler" with dedicated episodes to every student of 1A with mini arcs exploring the more important side characters such as Todoroki, Tenya, Uraraka, Tsuyu and maybe even Momo.

Completely redo Aizawa to actually perform to his own standards, he should teach the students to work on their fundamental "quirkless" capabilities as he more than anyone should know how easy it is to beat someone who has had their quirk countered to make sure they won't die in a situation where their quirk is useless, instead of threatening to expell them for having a weak quirk or non versatile quirk.

This can be done easily by just inverting his test. Have elementary/middle schools let kids use their quirks in gym and PE to help them understand their quirks and use them safely and give genuine context for why teenagers are expected to be skilled with their quirks when public quirk use is illegal. And have his starting test be about who is the most capable without them, showing him to be an unorthodox instructor and less of a hypocrite as that genuinely ties into his fighting style.

Have Izuku be quirkless for either half or all of his first year at UA. Have All Might take notice of him but still teach at UA to scout out a proper successor. Have Izuku manage to get into UA and do well in it's entrance exam as someone quirkless.

Make quirkless people exist and actually matter. 20% of the human race are quirkless, that is a much larger number than people realise coming in at a wopping 1.6 billion would be quirkless out of 8.1 billion. That cannot just be the elderly like fannon suggests.

Have Izuku go from the quirkless wonder to user of OFA actually matter, have him being conflicted about it, have other quirkless people actually have opinions on it, have people discredit him for being Quirked all along, only pretending to be quirkless. If you have him inherit the quirk at all.

Have stain be quirkless and have that revelation chill the world, have him being rejected from heroics for being quirkless have Stain parallel Izuku in many ways.

I could go on and on and on and on about a million and one ideas that would make the show/manga better but I feel like I've made my point well enough that there is so much here untapped that Horikoshi has, but rushed his way past for the next action scene and ultimately squandered.

Agree that MHA does need a major rewrite. It had such great potential and introduced a lot of intricate concepts for an average shonen, only to squander it at every turn. Like someone super smart in one of my reblogs said, "the story has a lot of interesting ideas, the author just has nothing interesting to say about them." A series that was built upon discrimination, inequality, and prejudice has done nothing more in the end than prop up the privileged, bigoted kid over the MC he abused.

Talk a about disappointing

#mha critical #bnha critical #anti bakugou katsuki #ask

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thislovintime · 1 year

Photo

Peter Tork and The Peter Tork Project, early 1980s; photos by Michael Ventura/Alamy.

“Eventually, Tork moved to New York City, working odd jobs and performing ‘sporadically.’ In the early ‘80s, after he quit drinking, he started a couple of bands, Peter Tork and the New Monks, and the heavy-metal-leaning Peter Tork Project. But Tork says that heavy drinking had ‘left me with mediocre skills. Until I started working on my skills again, it didn’t matter.’” - Los Angeles Times, October 20, 1992

“In June of 1982, Peter Tork was in my face again. It was at a gritty, downscale, but packed-to-the-gills club in Boston called Bunratty’s. (Long gone.) Tork, then 40, was on a tour he described as the ‘I Have to Laugh to Keep from Crying Tour.’ It was billed as Peter Tork and the New Monks – Tork plus four crack musicians providing a hard-rock ride down memory lane. We talked a bit between sets. Me: ‘What it’s like going through life and to always be viewed as a former Monkee?’ Tork: ‘Compared to what?’ I paused for a moment and thought to myself, ‘Exactly! When this is the life you’ve known, what can you compare it to?’ (This was one of the best answers I’d ever had to one of my queries.) I re-used this anecdote when I talked to Ringo years later – switching up Monkees for Beatles in his case – and he chuckled. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘What can you compare it to? This is where I am and this is what I am.’ So, why were we Bostonians packed shoulder-to-shoulder in the post-punk heyday to hear ‘60s pop done live and loud? ‘A lot of people come out and they want to remember the old songs,’ Tork said. ‘They want to drift back to when they were fetuses or however old they were then.’ [...] ‘When I arrive at the gates of St. Peter,’ Tork quipped, ‘he’s going to say First one to go . . . okay, we’ll let you in.’ One Peter to another. ‘When I quit the Monkees,’ Tork continued, ‘the first thing I wanted to do was divorce myself from the whole thing entirely.’ Tork formed a ‘straight- ahead pop rock’ band, Peter Tork and/or Release, but it failed to go anywhere. In late 1971 and early 1972 Tork spent three months in jail for possession of hashish. Tork, who was a folk musician prior to Monkee-dom, resurfaced in 1977 to play an acoustic gig at CBGB’s, at the time New York’s prime punk club. In a sense, punk was responsible for bringing Tork back to work. The Sex Pistols did a vicious sloppy cover of ‘Steppin’ Stone,’ and other punk new wave bands have embraced the Monkees on two levels: 1) damn good pop tunes and, 2) potential kitsch value. Tork, who was married and living in Venice, Calif., was on a tour playing small U.S. clubs. (Dolenz and Jones, incidentally, had also formed Monkees facsimiles at that time and were rumored still to be big stars in Japan.) Tork has been around the area all week – he was playing an even dive-ier club in nearby Somerville the next night – unveiling a repertoire that consisted of some Monkees tunes, some non-Monkees originals, and some early rock ‘n’ roll covers. He wasn’t exactly playing the Monkees’ songs by the (Boyce & Hart) book. I’d venture to say this was almost hard rock/heavy metal Monkees music. ‘The [Monkees] records are a little thin by contemporary standards,’ Tork said. ‘People who are just into rock ‘n’ roll and had a lot of contempt for the Monkees phenomenon as a whole aren’t going to come in the first place. People who are on the borderline – they liked the Monkees and they like rock ‘n’ roll today – are going to come. If I play it like it was off the records, they’re going to say ‘Well, it was nice to see him but so what?’ If I play ’em right and they want to dance, I’ve got good musicians whacking away and they’re going to come back.” Tork’s musicians – Phil Simon and Nelson Bogart, guitars; Vince Barranco, drums; and Paul Ill, bass – have played variously with Little Feat, Dave Brubeck, Joe Beck and Carolyne Mas. [...] Although not signed to a label, Tork said producer Jimmy Miller (Rolling Stones, Traffic) was ready to record an album with them. (Jimmy Miller, who lived in our region, was had made maybe the greatest Stones album ever in Exile on Main St., but was drug-damaged goods by that point, sad to say.) ‘My goals right now are to make a living entertaining,’ Tork said. ‘Put away something for my old age, cookouts on the weekend, no big thing. You never know what’s going to happen. One of these days I might make a mark on my own.’”- Rock and Roll Globe, February 2022

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wandaszn · 2 years

Text

Long Way Home

Hi everyone! This is my first delve into writing so I hope you can bear a bit of novice and mediocrity! This is just a small (read: it was small but I got carried away lol) shot based on this incredibly cute video of Lizzie. Just a few tweaks, such as the song being changed to Long Way Home by 5SOS and it being a Wanda x Reader instead. Also we're gonna pretend that Westview never happened and WandaVision doesn't exist *mwah*

Please leave any feedback at all I'd really appreciate it! Hope you enjoy!

Nobody has permission to repost this on any platforms. Please don't be a dick.

Summary: On the way home from a quick grocery trip, Y/N turns left instead of right.

Warnings: Just a fluffy little one-shot. Slight(!) angst. Mentions of intimate moments but nothing major.

Here's the song in case you haven't heard it!

———————————————

While it's tradition for shotgun to have control over the music, Wanda was obsessed with your playlist curating skills. You had made her countless playlists for day-to-day activities whether it be cooking, cleaning, working out or showering. Her absolute favorite, however, had to be the one for car rides as it had a mixture of both your favorite tunes. After countless trips together, you had learned the order by heart so you knew exactly what song was next. An idea sparked in your head as the light changed and you quickly switched your turn signal, deciding that an impromptu adventure couldn't hurt after a quick grocery trip.

"Y/NN, where are we going?" asked Wanda, curious as to why you missed your turn.

You say nothing, turning the volume up slightly and drumming against the steering wheel as the song's intro fills the car. You glance at her quickly, a small mischievous smile directed at her as you sing along. "We're taking the long way hoooome!"

She furrows her brows while donning a sweet smile and shakes her head affectionately, leaning her head against her palm, arm propped on the center console and watching your mini-concert, as the sun sets behind you.

Remember all the memories

The fireflies and make believes

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Memories of your first date fill Wanda's mind vividly, as if she were reliving it all over again. After running into eachother, literally, at the local farmer's market, it seemed like you could not stop meeting. You know when you see someone but pay no extra attention to their detail, but when you meet them, they're upgraded from background extra to recurring character? The mall, the gym, the park and now, your favorite coffee shop. It felt as if the universe kept pulling you towards the witch. Your yearning only grew stronger as time passed and you found courage to sit across from her at the table while you waited for your order.

She was startled at first and wondered why this kind stranger kept popping up into her life, though she wasn't complaining. You started an easy conversation, joking about fate bringing you both together constantly with no follow-up. While Wanda was hesitant, there's an easy-going air around you that helped the tension in her shoulders dissipate the more you talked to her. The clock behind Wanda told you it was getting dangerously close to you being late to work and you cleared your throat trying to muster up some courage. Taking a leap, you expressed your interest in seeing her again, which made her cheeks flush the cutest pink. Hesitantly, she agreed and gave you her number to set it up.

It took 3 weeks worth of texts, phone calls and canceled plans before your schedules had opened up for a date night. A cool Friday night found the both of you laying on a blanket sharing stories and getting to know each other better. The calm breeze and the ambience of the park allowed the conversation to take a more somber turn as Wanda opened up to you. She had never confided in anyone so quickly before you and felt incredibly vulnerable revealing her past.

She'd revealed her upbringing, her life until she became an avenger and the loss of her brother. Wanda had always been afraid of how people would react to her powers and how she'd previously used them. To her surprise, you didn't recoil like she expected, instead opting to grab her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. "You're not your past, Wands. People are allowed to grow and change. I would never judge you for how you coped." She was only able to give you a watery smile in return, subtly dabbing at her misty eyes.

Sensing her need to change the topic, you begin rambling about the latest episode of your favorite show. Wanda hadn't heard of the show or anything about it, confessing she'd always preferred her box set of old sitcoms to keep her entertained. When you put your hand to your chest and groaned, she sat up, face creased in concern.

She immediately grasped your face in her hands, "What's wrong? Are you okay?", her voiced laced with worry. "I can't believe you've never watched it! That's the best show ever made!" A small slap on your chest let you know she did not appreciate your little drama act at all. She rolled her eyes and looked up at the clear sky, zoning out a little as she reminisced.

"When I was little, my father created the Maximoff family TV night and I always picked The Dick van Dyke Show. It's my comfort show, you know? On the hard days I just curl up on the couch and watch few episodes and I feel alot better. It reminds me of my family." she shyly admitted. By this time you'd sat up and were gazing at her softly. Reaching to tuck her raven hair behind her ear, your hand traces down to cup her jaw.

"I understand how you feel completely. How about we make a deal?" you look at her with hopeful eyes. She quirks her brow, tilting her head slightly, leaning more into your warm palm. "How about we have a TV night for our next date? We watch some episodes of my show, some episodes of your show and get to see just what keeps us both so hooked, huh?" you smile and she mirrors it.

"Planning for a second date in the middle of the first? Someone's confident..." she smirks. You reach your free hand to the other side of her face as you lean in closer. "I just know what I want," you whisper as you caress her rose-tinted cheeks. "What else do you want?" her question almost sounds like a dare as her eyes flicker to your lips as you lick them.

"I wanna kiss you but I think I should hold out till that second date happens," you joke while slowly pulling away. She grabs the front of your shirt before you move too far, pulling you back in and kissing you softly. Your lips move lazily as you both melt into the embrace. When you part, you rest your forehead against hers.

"Keep kissing me like that and I'll start planning the fifth date," you joke quietly. She giggles and pulls you forward once more. The scattered fireflies provided a calming aura as the night winded down.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

"I wanna get lost and drive forever with you!" you sing enthusiastically, glancing at your girlfriend while holding your invisible microphone. Her affectionate gaze filling your chest with warmth that spurs on your performance. The buildings slowly start to disappear as you drive further into the desert area of your town. Pink, purple and orange paint the sky and you slow down slightly, trying to prolong this moment with your love.

Now we're stuck in the middle of nowhere

Yeah you know we took our time to get there

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Wanda's eyes glaze over once more as the lyrics transport her back to a more difficult time in your relationship. A few months after making it official, a slight panic had overcome her. The morning after a night of intimacy, you had slept over at the Avenger's compound and woken earlier than Wanda. So naturally, you decided to make her breakfast. She had returned from a mission that had drained her both mentally and physically and you wanted to take care of her.

The feel of cold sheets roused her from her slumber and she sat up, looking around the room for any sign of you. There was a faintly delicious smell that had an almost magnetic pull because before her brain had even fully awoken, she was following her nose. When she walked into kitchen, her breath hitched. The view of you standing at the stove, spatula in hand, vigilantly watching the eggs in the pan. As you moved around the scrambled eggs making sure it cooked evenly, you lightly hummed a tune.

This all felt overwhelmingly domestic to Wanda. Before you, she had never had someone this close in her life that wasn't family. It felt wrong having such a peaceful presence in a building that could be attacked at any moment. The sun peeked through the kitchen window, shining perfectly onto the side of your face while you were oblivious to her stare. As pleasant as the scene before her was, she felt nothing but dread. She didn't deserve such serenity and happiness. Regardless of her redemption arc, after all the horror she had caused she was overcome with guilt at being shown this affection and kindness. The way you had welcomed her into your life so openly, even after knowing her past and the dangers of her job, made her feel so loved and she didn't deserve it.

"What are you doing?" she asked harshly, voice coming out slight hoarse from lack of use. Or considering events from last night, overuse. You jump slightly, not expecting any noise to cut into the calm silence. Turning your head, you smile. "Hey, goodmorning sleeping beauty. I'm making a good old fashion eggs and bacon." You strike a silly pose with the utensil, trying to get a laugh out of her. "Alot of this stuff is brand spanking new. I know Stark is loaded but sheesh do you guys never cook?" you lightly jested.

At her hardened expression, you slowly lowered the spatula. "You okay? I hope I'm not overstepping I just thought we could use some fuel after last night." You wiggle your eyebrows playfully, hoping this attempt could atleast garner a smile. Your expression falls as she remains unmoved and you quickly turn off the stove and walk closer to her. You reach for her hand but she quickly moves it and folds her arms instead.

The hurt on your face is subtle but she notices it and feels a little bad but her insecurities are louder so she takes a step back. "I think you should leave." She forces out. You blink in surprise. "What? I'm sorry for touching your stuff, I thought you'd be okay with it. I made extra for the team too," you tried, rubbing your neck nervously you plead to her with your eyes. "I said leave! I don't want you here anymore!" she voice boomed around the silent kitchen. The only other sound being the eggs softly sizzling in the pan.

At her tone you flinched back, eyes widening in shock. She felt the fear rolling off you in waves, your head swimming with your own insecurities. She had been waiting on the day you came to your senses and saw her for who she really was deep down. A monster. A ticking time bomb. A biological weapon. Normally you would go to her and try to calm her down, but the way she had closed in on herself and the tiny bit of red flecks you could see in her irises, you knew this would not be on of those times. Sighing softly, you take one last look at her before you head to her room to collect your things. Trying not to upset her any further, you moved quickly, peeking into the kitchen once more just to ensure you'd turned off the stove and you headed to the elevator.

Meanwhile Wanda was crying and trying to convince herself that she had done what was best for the both of you. Her romantic track record was anything but solid. Having lost every single person that was important to her, she hadn't quite overcome the voice in her head saying she wasn't worthy of love or anything resembling it.

After two weeks of no contact, the redhead ignoring your attempts to talk to her and not running into eachother like you used to, you took matters into your own hands. It hadn't taken you long to realize what Wanda might have been thinking, recalling the many times you gladly reassured her that she is more than deserving of happiness. It broke your heart to know the woman you had been falling in love with was suffering this turmoil alone.

You called Natasha, the Russian assassin had become one of your closest friends after Wanda introduced you to the rest of the team. She revealed that whilst they hadn't been called on any missions, the witch was holed up in her room, only coming out to eat and attend meetings. This had only solidified your suspicions and you knew you had to fight for her. Even if Wanda herself was the biggest obstacle. You showed up at the compound, determined to win back your beloved, access easily granted thanks to your quick closeness to the team. Three shy but precise knocks echoed through Wanda's quarters.

"FRIDAY, who is it?" she asked tiredly. "It is Y/N, Ms. Maximoff." the omnipresent voice replied. It was as if Wanda had had the wind knocked out of her. She immediately went to stand in front of the door but it remained closed. You knocked again, softer this time, as if you knew she was right there. "Wands, baby? Can you open up please? I need you." you asked desperately. Your thoughts floated under the crack of the door, yelling your desire to be with her and your guilt for leaving in the first place. Her hand came to rest on the handle, gripping it tightly. "Come on angel, I miss you. Please let me in." came your pleading whisper. That was all it took for the door to slowly open, tear-filled emerald eyes staring into you.

"Y/N?" came her small voice. Without another word you pushed through the door and embraced her. Her smaller frame wracked with sobs and collapsed against you as strong arms tightly wrapped around her. "I-I'm so sorry..." she repeated between her cries. You did nothing but hold her till her crying subsided. After she calmed down you closed the door and lead her to her couch. Sitting closely, hands clasped together, you maintain strong eye contact as you choose your next words carefully. It's easy to see Wanda is nervous, if the way she played with your fingers was anything to go by.

"You don't get to do that." You say sternly. Before she starts apologizing again, you continue, "You don't get to make me fall in love with you and then decide to avoid me for weeks." Her eyes widened at your admission, which made you roll your eyes. "Now you have the audacity to be shocked? Woman you crashed into my life - literally - and I have yet to successfully imagine living without you. I love you so much and I'm so sorry that my feelings for you weren't louder than those thoughts in your head." Tears fell from your eyes as you tried to convey just how sincere your words were.

"Hell, read my mind if that'll truly convince you but please, baby, never push me away like that again. It physically hurt me to be away from you for so long." Your grip on her hands tightened slightly as you practically begged her. The pure pain and love she saw shining in your eyes made her crumble and she, in turn, grabbed your face and kissed you with all the love she had been harboring since you were apart. Pulling away, with neither of you ready to open your eyes she whispered, "I will never hurt you as long as I live. I love you so much, Y/N."

▪︎▪︎▪︎

As a stop sign came into view, Wanda barely had time to notice you turning to her as you stole a chaste kiss while the bridge of the song began.

"Kissing at the stop signs, darling!" you laughed at her stunned face as you pulled off, continuing your impromptu adventure. Before she could properly register what had just happened, the car came to another stop as you parked at a lookout point of the city. By this time, the sun had already set and being a ways away from all the light pollution, the stars were bright and beautiful. The chorus repeated once more as the song ended, the two of you just sat enjoying eachother's company.

"What made you bring us up here?" She wondered quietly, playing with the fingers of your hand in her lap. Your head lolled to the side, away from your previous view of the stars, to look at something much brighter and prettier than any star in the galaxy. "Just thought we could use a little break from our regular routine. Felt like it was getting a bit robotic, don't you?" Came your reply with a shrug.

"Only three years in and you're getting bored with me, huh?" She teased but you could see the thinly veiled insecurity in her words. You raise her hand and kiss her knuckles in reassurance. "As if, you're stuck with me forever in this universe and the next so strap in." As her eyes lit up, you cut her off before she could open her mouth. "NOT what I meant!" Instantly bursting her bubble, you smiled and she pouted and huffed," You're no fun."

"Like you'd know what to do anyway, pillow princess." You jested, holding your breath to see her reaction. Just as you hoped, red eyes snapped towards you, "Excuse me? Pillow princess? Oh you're gonna wish you never said that. Turn this car around and take me home." It was a rare occasion, Wanda being on top, but when it happened she utilized her work persona as the Scarlet Witch after realizing the effect it had on you and your body. Her authoritative voice filled the car as you hadn't yet moved from staring at her. "Now, Y/N."

After snapping out of your daze you made a hasty (and probably illegal) u-turn. It had been a great idea at first but seeing how far you had driven and how long it'd take for you to be home wrapped up in be with your girlfriend, you cursed your original adventure. Fuck it. Speed limit be damned. They wouldn't give an Avenger a ticket.

Right?

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

So there you have it guys! Truth be told I started this back in June and lost and found the inspiration to finish it so many times. Please forgive any mistakes, I've been trying to get this outta my drafts for weeks lmao. I wrote this in the way I know I'd wanna read it so I really hope you enjoy it. Any feedback is welcome whether it be good, bad or even just a like I'd really appreciate it! I have a few other ideas and I hope it won't take me 3 months to finish the next thing lmao. Much love!

sn: how fucking cute is lizzie in that vid

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader #marvel #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff

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martianbugsbunny · 13 days

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MartianBugsBunny Reviews: The Music of Wish

I'v been working on this for the past week or so and I have now seen the movie...eight times I think? Four on one Sunday and four on the next lmao

Let’s get the basics out of the way first! Overall, a lot of these songs were mediocre but probably would’ve been things I’d sing in the shower ad nauseam if it weren’t for one or two really horrible lines. That’s kind of the overall theme of the music from Wish, to be honest. I liked the music/tunes of most of these, though. I also noticed that the lyrics have this weird dichotomy of “let’s rhyme these things even if it doesn’t make sense” and “let’s just not care about the rhymes,” both of which were kind of off-putting to me.

I think the voices they got to sing this stuff were MEGA wasted. Ariana DeBose has the most heavenly voice; her higher register has a gorgeous sound. Chris Pine is better at singing than I would've expected. Both of them are good at those subtle shifts in pitch (I think it's called melisma? but don't quote me on that) that I can and will go nuts over. They deserved better material to work with. Now onto the specifics! I’m gonna rank each song out of ten (totally arbitrary lol) and ramble about why for a while. It's not too long, so if you have a little time on yours hands, read on and enjoy!

Welcome To Rosas 5/10 Not bad. It terms of tune, it has some decent flavor, but the lyrics are pretty forgettable. I think using a song to set up the concepts that they did was a good idea, like the first song in Encanto, but I just don't like it much. I think part of that is the informal tone??? like when Asha says "so like, we have this king" or "I'm totally kidding" or "oh hey, did I mention," that kinda gets on my nerves. and yes, I'm well aware that's a little hypocritical bc The Family Madrigal did some of the same things, but WTR isn't super strong to begin with so I instantly become more annoyed at the little details. Also, Asha's literally being a tour guide for the kingdom and that's not professional imo.

At All Costs …… I’m not scoring this one. I don’t know how to. I’m addicted to the chorus, that’s the first thing I’ll say; I watched Wish four times on the first day I watched it, and that was the first part I started singing along with. The harmonies get into my gut. But honestly, in terms of context, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. The lyrics sound like they should be directed at a person, not inanimate objects, which takes me out of the moment when I’m watching the movie. Some parts are a little clumsy, but if I’m viewing it as a love song it’s stunning, and DeBose and Pine's voices are heavenly together. I will say that subjectively, it's my favorite song in the soundtrack, I fell for it so hard and fast. <3

This Wish 7/10 In terms of Disney “I Want” songs this is at the bottom of the rankings, let’s be real. I like the sound of it, especially the non-syllabic vocalizations at the end of the chorus, but a lot of the lyrics just do not hit. Now, I will say that I saw a lot of people ragging on “to have something more for us than this,” and that’s actually one of my favorite parts of the song. It captures that feeling of longing for more without knowing exactly what that means or how to phrase it out loud so neatly. On the other hand, I definitely agree with the critiques of “throwing caution to every warning sign,” that’s one of my least favorite lyrics in the whole movie.

You’re A Star 6/10 Oddly, this one was less horrible than I expected. It delivered absolutely nothing, don’t get me wrong. It tried to tackle the idea of people and stars being made out of the same stuff and basically living as different notes in the same symphony and failed spectacularly. The big question “have you ever wondered why you look up at the sky for answers?” was one of my favorite lyrics in the entire soundtrack and there was NO payoff. (Plus, if I mixed up “elegant” and “eloquent” in a multi-million dollar movie I would never be able to look myself in the face again.) The entire second half of the song was pure lyrical garbage. But I like the tune and the animals are pretty cute, and despite being relatively hollow I found myself enjoying this one.

This Is The Thanks I Get 7/10 I’ve already said this but I’m gonna repeat myself: tonally this song was all wrong. 0/10 for that if I’m being perfectly honest. Something more along the lines of Hellfire or Be Prepared would’ve hit a lot harder—more sinister, more in line with the descent-into-madness thing that was occurring in the plot, would’ve improved this section of the soundtrack SO MUCH. With that complaint out of the way, the song we got was fine. Some of the lines were either poorly-written or repetitive, but as a whole I kind of enjoy it and would definitely dance around amateurishly in my room to it. It’s just too silly.

Knowing What We Know Now 1/10 This was my least favorite song in the entire movie. I just hate it. The lyrics are so sloppy.

This Wish (Reprise) 7/10 Honestly I think I liked this part better than the original song. Asha starting by herself and gradually being joined by her friends and the entire city was incredibly moving, and I might go so far as to say that this was the most powerful moment of the movie. I also enjoyed the twists on the original lyrics, particularly “we’re past dipping our toes in, we know it’s do or die, it’s sink or swim.” That part just felt really well done.

#I'm hurling this out into the void now #I'm sure I could think of more to say but this is as much as I have the energy or spare brainpower for rn #wish #disney wish #wish 2023 #disney #disney music #welcome to rosas #at all costs #this wish #you're a star #this is the thanks I get #knowing what we know now #this wish reprise #asha #king magnifico #music #martianbugsbunny reviews

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talesfrombrk · 1 year

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phishy business, or how to watch a concert for free

The first thing that you’ll notice at the Phish concert is that you’re probably the youngest one there. I found myself surrounded by an assortment of deadheads, dreadheads, and middle-aged men who looked like they’d just finished up a shift at the local record shop. You know the type. Many held in their hands the largest whipit balloons I had ever seen, purchased from the numerous enterprising vendors with nitrous tanks large enough to supply a dentist's office for weeks.

Let me be completely honest here: I am not a fan of Phish. Before the concert, I found their music to be mediocre at best, a jam band whose music should have perhaps stayed in the garage. What I am a fan of, however, is people, places, and things with a cult following. And if I have to give Phish credit for anything, it’s their fans.

The line into the Greek Theater spanned several blocks. Walking through was a funny experience due to the juxtaposition of the Phishheads and the intrigued Greek life students walking home or to class. I found myself somewhere in between the two groups- dressed in a long skirt and sweater I felt a bit like a kid dressed in hippie cosplay. And the Grateful Dead bucket hat didn't help.

So, what is Phish? By definition, Phish is an “American rock band formed in Burlington, Vermont, in 1983. The band is known for musical improvisation, extended jams, blending of genres, and a dedicated fan base” (Wikipedia). What they're really known mostly for their live performances. Their fans claim that no two shows are ever the same, as they rely heavily on improvisation in both music and lighting.

The music started to make more sense as I got higher throughout the night. I suppose being able to openly smoke weed is one of the benefits to not being willing to spend $300+ on a general admission ticket, or $500 for the three-day pass, although the people inside didn’t seem like they were having any trouble. My friend and I watched from the parking lot above the theater, where several other groups had set up camp.

The band continued their semi-melodic tunes into the chilly Spring night, waltzing about with their improvisational guitar tunes. While I couldn’t quite make out the performers, the sound was just fine, perhaps even better, from up above.

When the three days of Phish-tivities were finally over, I found myself walking by the Greek Theater on my way home, melancholically missing walking through the block-long lines of the people who I will likely one day join. And when I do, I hope to see people like me walking by; young, curious, well-dressed, and in search of aneurism-inducing quantities of nitrous.

Side story: I went out to a bar the next night and met a man whose word slurring I thought was simply from his incredible inebriation. Turned out he was just from Virginia. But I knew who he was here for.

We talked about the band for a bit, and frankly if I weren’t so inebriated myself I likely would have picked up some interesting tidbits. I told him what I thought about the band (I don’t love them, but I love things with a cult following) and he laughed and said he liked my answer. He was having a great time here in the Bay, he said. All I really remember from the conversation was that he loved Phish.

He bought me a drink later (as a Southern gentleman, he assured me, he had a wife at home). Unfortunately, the bar was cash only and he had none, so I ended up paying for it myself. But all was well, it was closing time anyways. He wandered out into the streets in search of an afterparty at 2 am on a Tuesday. I headed home.

Glossary

Phishheads- According to Urban Dictionary, a follower of fish; one who hates wilson

Wilson- A song by Phish, described by some as the seed that sprouted the whole thing. Wilson is a song in the overarching saga called “Gamehendge”, which spans about 10 songs. Wilson is a character who embodies corruption, unchecked ambition, and greed.

Jam band- a musical group whose concerts and live albums are characterized by lengthy improvisational jams. Famous jam bands include the Grateful Dead, Blues Traveler, the Dave Mathews Band, Phish, and Santana.

Shakedown- Shakedown Street is a phrase coined by the Grateful Dead which describes the parking lot of a jam band where vending takes place. Food, alcohol, clothing, jewelry, and tickets are sold in this lively little community area.

Phish Lot- The Phish take on a Shakedown. The Facebook group describes It as “a connection network of sellers, buyers, and kids who just like to look!” Aww, I feel included :)

Phish.net- your ultimate source for all. things. Phish. There, you can find recaps of pretty much every show.

#prose #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #phish #hippie #jam band #journal #writing #berkeley #greek theater

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leqclerc · 2 years

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Sigh. As much as I love and respect Laurent and personally believe he’d be a much more palatable TP than Binotto this unfortunately points towards a bigger issue within the team, this idea of constantly reiterating that nothing’s wrong, there’s no reason to change anything, most of their poor results are down to outside factors, no one really understands their plight, etc.

Granted, they’re hardly going to openly admit morale is poor or whatever, but not taking responsibility and doggedly defending bad decisions, when everyone else can clearly see many, many costly mistakes were made, is not a good look either. It’s difficult to feel sympathetic when the team’s policy so far has largely been denial (there’s no reason to change anything within the team), deception (claiming the race in Hungary was unwinnable regardless of strategy simply because the car had “no pace,” which was absolutely not true for Charles), and delusion (there’s no reason we can’t win the remaining 10 races), or some mix of the three. It’s frankly insulting. To Charles, to all the people back at the factory who worked so hard to make a championship contending car, and to all the fans tuning into this clown show. In all my years of following F1/Ferrari, I don’t recall a time when they so blatantly made so many bad calls with such frightening consistency. It’s not just a genuine mistake here and there. It’s week in, week out; the rule, more so than the exception at this point. You can comfortably go into a weekend and predict that the pitwall will do something to compromise Charles’s race and be correct more often than not, and that’s concerning.

And now, a little over halfway through the season, they’re closer to Mercedes in the standings (30 points difference) than Red Bull (97 points), who started off as their main rival for the championship(s). My prediction? They’re going to be pipped for second by Mercedes and ultimately finish the season in P3 in the Constructors’ standings. Mercedes. The Mercedes whose resurgence was supposedly a good thing for Ferrari, because it would “take points away from Red Bull.” Yep. P3. From P1. P3, where they finished last year, a result that was considered a massive success for their then-midfield car, coming off the back of a disastrous season. And the worst part is, should it happen, it will be absolutely deserved. P3 is just a more accurate reflection of their goals and ambitions than P1. After all, Binotto shamelessly moved the goal posts while the championship fight was already well underway and downplayed their ambitions from winning a title to just winning some races here and there.

In its current form, with its current attitude, this is not a team that has a genuine hunger and determination and desire to win championships. When Red Bull or Mercedes lose out, they are sick. They’re disappointed, they (generally) hold themselves accountable, and they analyse their weaknesses in order to come back stronger at the next opportunity. To them, anything less than a win is not good enough, especially when they know they have the car and drivers to achieve such results. They’re always pushing for more, bigger, better. There’s ambition there to win - and not just a race, but races, and, crucially, titles. Ferrari, meanwhile, seem to be content with mediocrity, treating the ultra-competitive sport that is Formula 1 like it’s a school sports day, where everyone’s a winner simply for showing up and participating.

In the past their title bids have also been flawed and ultimately fruitless (2017, 2018) but, I don’t know, at least I could feel they tried, they wanted it, which is more than I can say for the current pitwall/management. It’s this feeling that they just don’t care, that they’ve thrown in the towel much too prematurely and are now pretending this was the plan all along...that’s the inexcusable part. To have everything in your grasp, have the driver, have the car at your disposal...and then so carelessly dismantle everything for no discernible reason. If there is one given behind the scenes for this fiasco, then we’re not privy to it.

If the management, the people who hold actual executive power, who are responsible for making important decisions, really and truly see no issue with how the team is being mishandled at the moment, the way it’s failing to reach its full potential, then this malady is more serious than we initially thought. If there’s only talk of “learning lessons” and no actual, tangible action follows - worse, if the same mistakes keep being repeated over and over and keep being defended in the face of fair, constructive criticism, then the team has a massive problem, and I can’t, right now, see any clear solution. They are insane for this (derogatory). After all:

#text #discussions and predictions #scuderia ferrari #meta #long post #idek i just saw that article and - combined with that 'highs and lows of charles leclerc's season' video that dropped on f1 yt #it just pissed me off so much #i know the title's done and dusted. i guess charles knows it too #but the WAY in which they lost it is honestly unforgivable to me and much worse than i ever could've imagined them losing #it's not a case of ferrari just not building a good enough car and having that hold them back as was the case in the years prior #it was literally theirs to lose and they CHOSE they actively decided to lose it and that i can't grasp or forgive or come to terms with #they can be better than this. they SHOULD be better than this but they are actively choosing to be a disgrace instead #and then defend themselves and claim they're in the right and anyone who says otherwise is just a mindless hater

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littlewestern · 1 year

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Hey, Hey, Hey! - On Music in CGI TtTE Movies

Part 1: The Anecdote (Intro)

If there’s one thing that watching Thomas the Tank Engine has taught me, it’s that the most important thing is being friends, especially when you’ve committed to watching a bunch of children’s movies of questionable quality. For this @greatwesternway must again be commended not only for getting her hands on all the films, but watching them multiple times (once by herself and then again with me, several times over by this point). That’s friendship!

The first movie I watched (alone) was Blue Mountain Mystery which, If you’ve never seen any of the CGI movies, is a nice one to start with. The pacing is decent, the characterization of the narrow gauge engines is good, and the inclusion of Victor’s backstory is great, bordering on brilliant writing. Really, I only had one complaint… The music.

youtube

My god, even now listening to it again as I write this. It’s like at every juncture the people responsible for this song were determined to make the worst possible decisions available to them at the time. The blaring horn in the intro, the cacophonous production, the lyrics that would earn a C+ at best in a 4th grade poetry unit, the children’s choir in the background, this truly has it all. Two minutes of baffling mediocrity in an otherwise pretty decent movie. The other numbers weren’t any better, but Working Together was particularly noteworthy.

The film ended and I told DJ that I’d enjoyed most of it, but that the music was very, very bad, as bad as I’d ever heard in a children’s animated feature (and I’ve watched some garbage animated features).

“The songs in the film were different songs, but they sounded almost identical,” I observed. DJ laughed and agreed, and for the next few weeks we watched better movies with better music in them. Then we got to King Of The Railway.

“This next one has Stephen in it,” DJ promised me.

“Love that guy!” I replied cheerfully. We’d watched his episodes of the show, but I had not yet seen the movie.

“It also has your favorite song in it.”

I laughed. I thought she was joking. After all, I had said that all the bad songs sounded basically the same. And as someone who has been diagnosed with incurable Commitment To The Bit Syndrome, I proceeded to ‘yes-and’ her.

“Oh, great! Can’t wait to start rockin’ and rollin’ and liftin’ and loadin’!”

DJ did not laugh or continue the joke. I was confused, but it happens! I’m not always as funny as I think I am. At least I would get to watch the movie that introduced my favorite Ulfstead Castle engine! And then, sixteen minutes into the film…

youtube

“No fucking way,” I said, at first in disbelief and then again in glorious, shrieking delight. “No fucking way!”

“I’m afraid so,” DJ said gravely. At least, I think that’s what she said, because at this point I was inconsolable. I had become unglued. I don’t remember exactly what came out of my mouth, but I know it was unkind. And loud.

“You can’t just– You can’t reuse a song you already used!” I declared, once I’d pulled myself together enough to start forming full sentences again. “You can’t hand in the same homework assignment twice!”

“Sure they can. They have the rights,” said DJ matter-of-factly.

“Well yeah,” I conceded. “But it’s just not The Done Thing. It’s not wrong, but we just don’t do it!”

Since then, the quality of the music in the CGI films has been the subject of much ridicule between the two of us, but to me especially. Sometimes I will narrate what I’m doing to the tune of Working Together. Any five syllable phrase will work, and it doesn’t even need to rhyme!

Open the ipad Lookin’ at files Drinkin’ my coffee!

So why bring this up? Well, a few weeks ago, I and several others in the ttte blogosphere received the entirety of the lyrics to Misty Island Rescue’s theme as an anonymous message. It reminded me that there’s actually a lot to say about the music, how it evolved over the years, and what makes the bad stuff bad and the good stuff good. And, yes, there is good stuff in some of these films.

So let’s make a series of essays about it! Next week, I’d like to take a look at the worst of what these movies have to offer, and break down why they don’t work and what might be done to fix them. After that, we’ll look at the good stuff and talk about how they improved on the formula, and I’ll reveal which song I think is the best out of the 13 CGI films.

‘Til then!

#transmissions from the little western #little westssays #ttte #blue mountain mystery #king of the railway #50/50 on whether or not i remember to edit this post after i write parts 2 and 3. place your bets now!#long post

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moonlightguardianmoon · 2 years

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Don't Tell scp-049

Day 2

Day 2 of scp-049 being absent from site 19. While scp 035 and scp 076 are wreck havoc in the main area scp 106 decided to go and explore some of the other scp containment chambers, hoping to possably torment any anomalous creatures in his pocket dimension. However he end up finding himself in scp 049's empty containment chamber instead.

106: *peaks out of the wall* HEEEERES LAWRENCE- ... empty. Damn it! ... *looks around the cell*

The cell was a plain white room, a single cot on the left side wall of the cell, and a desk close by it, had several different tables with different test tunes and chemical sets, placed on them in a somewhat chaotic order, in the center of the other side of the room was seemed to look like a surgical area, there he saw a large overhead light above an operating table next to it a rolling cart, resting on top were some cleaned up surgical tools and by the wall next to the surgery area was a lone sink.

It then came to 106 that he was in the plague doctor's cell.

106: huh... *picks up one of 049's scalpels and fiddles with it* eh... I'll never understand why the doctor does this stuff... *looks down at the scalpel he's holding for a moment* . . .

Half an hour later.

106: *wearing a paper made plague doctor's mask and speaks in a mediocre french accent* HMMM YES PeStIlEnCe AnD DiSeAsEs! *sniffing sounds* WHOOP! I sEmLl PeStIlEnCe iN yOu! *swings the scalpel around* DYO YOU PORCELAIN B@#$! I SAID DON'T TOUCH MY SH*T! *starts waving his arms around in the air still holding the scalpel* EvErYoNe LiStEn To mE aNd EvErY eArFuLl AnNoYiNg CoMmAnDs I hAvE tO SaY cAuSe yOu IdIotS cAn'T dO sH*T RiGhT! *swings the scalpel around some more* LoOk aT mE AnD mY bIg @$$ BeAk FaCe AnD LiStEn To mY OUTRAGEOUS FRENCH ACCENT!!! VERY OUTRAGEOUS!!!

Scp 035 over hears yelling from 049's chambers and takes a peek inside the room to see what was going on, only to find 106 stomping around the plague doctor's cell wearing a poorly made plague doctor's mask.

106: HaVe NO FeAr DeAr PaTiEnTs fOr I! *tries to do a scalpel trick spin but nearly drops it* Oh sh*t- *catches it last second and lifts it in the air* AM THE CURE!!! NOW I WILL CURE THE PESTIL-

035: *leaning on the cell door* Nice impersonation attempt.

106: *freezes in place* . . . Uh... h-how long were you standing there for?

035: ... *pulls out a well made mask connect piece of a plague doctor's lower mask and puts it over the mouth part of his face* *starts talking in 049's voice* long enough to show you how to impersonate the good doctor properly.

106: ...

035: *smug energy* ...

106: ... don't tell the Doctor-

035: Don't, tell, Doc.

30 minutes later.

035: *still in 049's voice* pass me the scalpel, my dear good doctor.

106: of course good doctor. *passes 035 the scalpel*

035: *cuts something with the scalpel* pass the glue, now.

106: glue! *hands 035 the glue*

035: *glues something* and done! Our patient has been cured of the pestilence!

Sitting there on the plague doctor's surgical table was a bar of carved soap in the shape of what apear to be the shape of a platypus, with beak and limbs made from gluw and cut popsicle sticks.

106: ... I hate to use such language, but our patient looks like sh*t.

035: In your eyes maybe good doctor! But I think this surgery was a complete success! *stretches his arms out*

There was a sudden crash of shattering glass next to them.

106: O_O . . .

035: *is now the tragedy mask* . . .

Both turn to the left and looked down to see one of the plague doctor's test-tubes full of strange black liquid substince had spilled on the only carpet in the entire room.

035: *in his normal voice* ... oh that's not good.

106: *his normal voice and takes if his mask* OH YOU THINK!?? Why the hell does he have a single white f@#$ing carpet in his entire cell!?

035: oh that's an easy answer! Cause his feet hurt when he stands in a single spot for a long period of time when he does surgery, so he had them put a carpet next to his surgery table to-

106: NEVER MIND THAT! We gotta clean this sh*t up before anyone sees!

035: OK! Ok! Relax! I know where doc keeps his rags at! *goes to find a rag in one of the cupboards* Where the f@#$ did doc move the stupid-

106: hurry up!

035: SHUT UP I GOT IT! *grabs a rag* found it! *runs it under warm water in a nearby sink and starts cleaning the stain on the rug* Oh no, not the CARPET!!!

106: Doc is going to kiiill you!!!

035: *scrubs harder* ooh Doc is gonna kill me!

The black liquid doesn't go away, as it stains the rag as well.

035: Ooh WHAT HAVE I DOOOONE! OOOH NO, OH NO, OH NOOOO!

The stain doesn't go away and starts to get bigger as 035 continues to scrub at it.

035: OH I'M MAKING IT WORSE!!!

106: *starts laughing* oh this turned over quickly completely!

035: OOOH YOU @$$HOLE!!! You made this happen!!!

106: I DIDN'T MAKE YOU FLING YOUR CLUMSY @$$ HOST HANDS AT THE GLASS TUBES!!!

035: UUUGH! ... *looks up at the cell security camera* Oh Doc please don't watch the security footage please! Uuugh! It was all Lawrence's Fault!

106: I wasn't the one who broke his sh*t! That was you!

035: YA BUT YOU WERE IN DOC'S ROOM WHEN HE TOLD US NOT TOO!!!

106: YOU BROKE HIS SH*T! NOT ME!!!

035: YOU F@#$ING WENT INTO HIS ROOM FIRST!!!

106: OK! you know what! Let's just say 682 did this or something. I mean the doctor isn't gonna be back here in a week maybe the foundation will clean up his room or something.

035: *sighs* fine! Your right! Your right! *stands up and puts the rag in the sink and looks down at the mess* ... you think he'll notice?

106: *looks down at the stain as well*

The stain has became bigger and is nearly a gaint black blob on the carpet.

106: . . . No, I don't think he will...

035: ... Ok, so we both agree to never speak of this again?

106: agreed.

035: Don't tell Doc.

106: Don't tell Doc. *sinks into his pocket dimension portal on the ground*

035: *quickly leaves the room while whistling*

🤫

Ssssssh!

...

Don't tell Doc.

[Day 1] [currently Day 2] [Day 3] [Day 4] [Day 5]

#headcanon #funny headcanon #funny #don't tell scp 049 #scp 049 #scp 035 #scp 106 #scp #scp containment breach #scp foundation #scp headcanons

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ground-zero-idiocies · 2 years

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How would companions react to Bad Habits by Ed Sheeran?

So I just heard this song for the first time yesterday so now sounds lik a good time to answer this.

Fallout 4 Companions React to 'Bad Habits' by Ed Sheeran

Is it beach day? It's beach day. Across the picnic blanket from the mutfruit sandwiches lies a small ham radio, playing Diamond City Radio and slowly leaking out it's 'old gold' tunes. However, after a short ad from CHOICE CHOPS!, a new song starts playing. The artist is unknown to all, but the song plays.

Cait: “What the...where is this guy from? His accent makes me wanna puke. Really, who thought people from that place deserve rights or the ability to make music or a microphone? I didn’t think I liked the Ink Spots all too much but I would listen to that forever instead of hearing that ever again.”

Curie: “Zis song is very new! I do not believe that this song ‘as ever been played before on this radio station! I do so wonder how Mr. Travis obtained a new record zis long after the war, but I commend him for doing so.”

Codsworth: “Well mum, this song is certainly a ‘blast from the past’, now isn’t it? The last time I heard this song, GNN was still on the air, haha! I do so wonder if Mr. Sheeran is still alive today. Say, with ghouls and super mutants it may be possible! Ah, what a strange world we live in.”

Danse: “This song belongs to a genre of music that I certainly despise. I’ve said it before but I much prefer country and bluegrass music. It really tickles my balls makes me feel like a man. This sounds like what Proctor Taegan listens to when he breaks up with his monthly boy toy.”

Deacon: “NO WAY! I actually met this guy a couple years ago. When I traveled to England. He’s a robobrain now! Can’t sing, but he’s certainly an interesting guy. I should really talk more about England. Did you guys know that they have three-headed Brahmin over there? Yeah! They call them ‘cows’. Weird stuff.”

Hancock: “What’s this shit on the radio? If you’re gonna play something that doesn’t sound like it was recorded at the end of a tunnel, play something by my girl Magnolia. Now she can sing, without having to load the sound into a terminal and monkey with the audio. I should start my own radio station for her. It would make lots of caps.”

Gage: “I’m gonna get shit for sayin’ this, but that song was better than anything RedEye ever does. And I like RedEye! Man, it’s all stuck in my head now. Bad habits lead to this and that...”

Longfellow: “This reminds me of a song I heard once. ‘There’s no one as Irish as Barrack Obama’. I think Obama was the president before they unfroze Walt Disney’s head and elected him. Those were strange times. Anyway the song is ok, I guess.”

MacCready: “Dang, Lucy would’ve loved that song. It’s just so catchy, y’know? I’m gonna be singing that for the next ten years straight. Ooo, here’s an idea, Gage and I could record our own version! If he promised not to kill me and everything.”

Nick Valentine: “And this is why they play ‘old gold’ instead of this 21st century junk. Why couldn’t Travis have found Mambo Italiano or She Blinded Me With Science? At least that one’s relevant. This song is just so off-putting. I’m hoping he doesn’t make it a regular listen.”

Piper: “Official notice: local DJ Travis Miles plays mediocre, 4/10 song on the radio. No one’s heard this song in 200 years, yet he found it anyway. Polls show that most people don’t want to hear it again. This concludes the official notice.”

Preston: “This song is so upbeat and catchy! What an amazing song! I’m gonna make this the Minutemen’s anthem. Why can’t Travis play more of this guy? It’s so good. This song is perfect. Thank you Travis and thank you God, because only he could make something so incredible.”

Strong: “Strong could not hear the song. DJ Travis needs to make song louder. Strong thinks that Super Mutants sing better than puny humans. Strong will sing a song soon, and everyone will want to be friends with Strong.”

X6-88: “Damn it. Father’s mixtape got leaked. This is a code red, activate the silos. We gotta start humanity all over again.

#fallout #fallout 4 #mixtape #ed sheeran #companions #companions react #fallout 4 companions #paladin danse #hancock #strong #nick valentine #radi

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ordinaryschmuck · 1 year

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Pixar from Worst to Best: Introduction

Salutations, random people of the internet who are already scrolling past this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck! I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons!

PIXAR!

What the hell can I say about this studio that hasn't been said already? You all know Pixar. You already know they're a studio that pushes out some great films suitable for kids and adults. You already know that their good-to-bad ratio is impressive for a studio with a twenty-six film lineup. Heck, out of all of Pixar's movies, there are only three that I can truly say are bad (you already know which ones). The rest of the "bad" ones are mediocre at worst and inoffensive at best, only seen in a negative light because they don't hold a candle to the true spectacle that is some of Pixar's best and brightest. I can somewhat understand that, just as much as I can understand why people despise certain movies. Pixar isn't something like Dreamworks, where one stinker of a film is inconsequential to the overall mixed bag of quality the studio puts out (and don't worry. I'll do them next if I can). But when Pixar messes up? You feel it. Even when what they make isn't bad by normal standards, it stings seeing the studio go from the highest highs to something so...in the middle of the road.

With that said, it still feels wrong to rank their movies in the same spirit as I did for Walt Disney Animated Pictures Studios. I thought about splitting it up, but it also felt like I was doing some movies an injustice by lumping them with far worse films. Whether I would split them in half, fifths, or fourths, nothing seemed to sit right with me. So, when it comes to ranking Pixar from worst to best, we're doing things a little bit differently. I'm not going to split them into categories or anything like that. Instead, everyday for the next...month, I guess, I am going to post a review of each Pixar movie, starting with the worst one and ending with the best. It means it'll take longer than expected to talk about Pixar, but trust me when I say that this is the only method that feels right to me.

With that said, tune in tomorrow as we begin this journey together as I talk about the WORST Pixar movie. And, odds are, you already know where we're starting with. But you probably don't know which movie got the bottom rank.

#pixar #what i thought about #pixar worst to best

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oswlld · 2 years

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Reveal Your Watch and Rewatch List

tagged by @jemmo & @talays-portkey ♥♥♥ (tyyy, was tagged all the way back in august, this has been a long time coming) having done this in apr and in july; i told myself that if i was tagged again, i would do my next update in october so ta-daa

watching

andor (eng, s1) — the only show i am currently keep up with week to week. it’s brilliant, utterly brilliant. the three-episode model keeps the writing/action/tension contained, keeping me in this welcoming chokehold until the very end of the season. that is how you keep your storyline moving, for a 12-ep season, without it feeling dragged out. and the story itself has a low, raging rumble against this very real world backdrop. i just want to exist in this world forever, peeling away all the layers of the rebellion and the empire. stripping all that we have known about the force and everything that the existing franchise builds on until all that’s left: empirical fascism and oppression. and we are being gifted this fantastic premise with a character that can’t narratively die. because we already know his fate. this description is in all lower case, but you best believe i am screaming this the whole way through.

somebody feed phil (eng, s4) — this and the below show are two that i have been watching slowly, splicing up all the episodes between when i started in the summer to the end of the year. i am tackling this show one season a month, which is always a breath of fresh air in between all the dramas i have scheduled. phil is an absolute delight to watch and the choice of locations are so well thought out. i already have a trip to plan for nyc in the near future due to this show. i dread the day i run out of episodes to watch…. oh no lol

guardian (cmn, s1) — as i said prev, this is also a show i have split up my time through the year, tackling this show 10 eps per month. I have seen 20/40 so far and it’s great so far! to me, its very reminiscent of shadowhunters (a prev jessi hyperfixation). if you give me mediocre vfx + found family trope, i will eat it all up i love it so. and the two leads go from 0 to work husbands by the second epsiode, i love that for them. they have such amazing chemistry and like somebody feed phil, i will mourn the day i finish this show.

planning to watch

glitch (kor, premiere) — as i write this, i will be starting this show in the evening. osmosis went HARD on my dash lol i mean, the premise and the vibes are all there. i am going into this blind, only with the knowledge of the two actresses having great chemistry together. the space/alien aesthetics are just a bonus. can’t wait to find out what it’s all about, stay tuned.

werewolf by night (eng, movie) — this is also a last min decision to do, esp for halloween night. when i heard about this show, i wasn’t sold on the concept until i saw that gael was the lead and directed by michael giacchino. the man who has gifted us with the ost for LOST and Up! directed a marvel movie????? i am all in. and this all before knowing anything about the plot.

sleep with me (fil, s1) — my first filipino show sched on my watchlist YAYYY!!! for me, it’s such a hard sell to make me watch a filipino series. but this one really peaked my interest, it also being the first gl for me to tackle this year. i know lovi from the one that got away, so im excited to see what she’s like here. hope there’s more filipino content on my radar in the future. the only other show i have on my deck is gaya sa pelikula but have not determined a date for it. maybe summer 2023??

after this show, i do not have any new bl/gl’s on the calendar for the rest of the year. I am waiting for osmosis to kick in for anything coming up. feel free to check out what i do have on deck, thru jan 2023.

rewatching

bad buddy (thai, s1) — i originally planned for a rewatch by myself at the last week of the year, marking the one year anniversary when i started watching this show. it always marked the beginning of my bl/asian drama journey, so it felt right to get this on the calendar for me. sometime ago, i was informed that the fandom was planning a rewatch in october, so i immediately reshuffled my entire rest of the year to accommodate for it lol. what else is there to say, im returning home.

vice versa (thai, s1) — and in replacing my original plan, of rewatching bad buddy at the end of dec, i have now scheduled vice versa. its my birthday week, ofc i want to see my son and my solemn face moonchild. i miss them. SO. MUCH. ugh

tagging @pranink (nice to finally meet you!), @suppaloscurse (for the emotional turmoil she put me thru this past weekend), and @casualavocados (what are you up to over there?)

#tagged #this is jessi #going to revisit this again in Jan someone pls tag me again haha #also can anyone rec any desi content for me to watch sometime next year?#my watchlist is severely lacking in that industry #i only have n*tflix if that's a factor

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thesefourwallsstory · 7 months

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Part 2: ???

The sun peeks its head through my blinds, pouring heat over my body and a bright light into my eyes, "I guess it's time to get up" I think to myself. I slowly rise from my bed and make my way to my bathroom. I brush my teeth, comb my hair and steal a long look in the mirror.

"Maaaaaaaaaan, when did I start looking so tired, these bags are huge" I say as I stretch out the skin beneath my eye, turning darker and darker from lack of sleep and constant rubbing. "I really should get to sleep at a better time but I'm always having too much fun dinking around on this thing" I exit my tiny bathroom and pick up my old, beat up guitar and strum the strings. What greets my ears is the most disharmonious sound I've ever heard, I wince. "Yeah, I should probably get you tuned before I try that again." I set the guitar back down and turn to face my mess of an apartment, "Same goes for you, I always wonder how you get so trashed when i'm hardly here." I finish my daily routine off with some half-burnt toast and sit down at my computer. I grab my headphones and put them on, and slowly get sucked into some games and social media.

Before I even realize it, it's approaching noon and I'm starting to get hungry again. My phone dings. I pick it up off my desk and look at the notification, it's a text from Tanaka, "Hey Makoto-chan ;P, you up to get some food?"

I hastily replied, "Don't mock me or I'll start calling you Tana-kun again around your girlfriend"

Another message "Okay okay, jeez man when'd you get to be such a hardass?"

"When you started calling me Makoto-chan, anyways I'd be down to get some food, I'm assuming you don't mean any food and you really want...."

"Yeah... I'm craving that ramen place again, you can't blame me though, it's really really good, all the intricate flavors of the broth and the supreme texture of the noodles.........." He goes on for a while about how good the ramen is. At this point, I've learned not to stop him.

"......I guess what I'm trying to say is, they just put a lot of love in every single bowl!"

"Yeah yeah, all this hearing you ramble on is making me even more hungry, I'll meet you there in 20 okay?"

"Sounds good to me Makoto-chan <3"

"Didn't I just threaten you about calling me that?"

"Yeah yeah, just don't forget your wallet this time, see ya there >:3", I seriously don't know how Tanaka does it, he doesn't have a job and still lives with his parents yet he manages to always have the money to stuff himself full to the brim with food, and I know he pays for it too! Well whatever, not like I'm complaining, he always reminds me to bring my wallet but he covers me every time we go out. I grab my laptop bag and make my way out of the apartment.

Oh, and before I forget, my name is Makoto Shigeru, though you already knew the Makoto part. I’m fresh out of college and fresh out of a job haha. I’m 21 with bleach blonde hair and the most mediocre.. I mean the sexiest pair of brown eyes you’ll ever see. No matter what I seem to do I always get struck with bad luck, but eh that’s just a part of life. I’m learning the guitar to keep a promise to my late father. He always saw an artist in me, although I haven't seen it just yet. When his time was near he left me with his prized guitar and asked me to learn it so I could “free myself from my worries with music,” he was an odd one sure, but I knew he only wanted what was best and it’s not like I’m going to reject the wishes of a dying man. Soon after he passed, I picked up the old six-string and started to practice. One thing that irks me is self-centered people who don’t even try to get others. I don’t think I’ll ever see eye to eye with someone like that, even as much as I try to respect and show kindness to everyone.

Speaking of self-centered people, I think my next door neighbor hates me, he hasn’t made an issue out of it yet, but I can hear him groan every time I start to practice. Though I’ve never seen him, he just strikes me as the type of guy to push his problems onto the world. I know he’s working for some tech company and from the unintentionally audible monologues, I don’t think he’s a huge fan. Maybe I’ll try to give him some advice….. Yeah, maybe I will.

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#story #fiction #mlm fiction #yaoi bl #author #writer #creative writing #writing

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