#Yes this is a reference to that one comic shut up

[incorrect-half-life-quotes]

Father Grigori, shortly after the fall of Ravenholm: Oh light of lights! Bestow upon me thy blessing, so that I might redeem those fallen from your grace! *From the sky emerges a bright ray of heavenly light directly above Grigori; from it descends a lever-action rifle, landing squarely in the Priest's hands* Father Grigori: I can work with this

[cowboydisaster]

Just Like You

pairing: SImon "Ghost" Riley x single mom reader word count: 1.6k summary: Ghost can't get used to the fact that he's your son's favorite person in the world, but damn- he's trying. ("You- You're me for Halloween??") a/n: this fic references the comics, so for those who didn't know: Joseph was Simon's nephew. Super angsty and fluffy. Simon bonding with your kid. beta read by @margowritesthings

masterlist

Leo loves Halloween. It’s your son’s favorite time of year. The five year old boy, with your help, worked incredibly hard on his costume, and he’s sure it's going to be the best costume on the block. You may be a little biased, but really, it’s very good. Leo has put extra effort into perfecting every detail of his costume, because this year is special.

It’s the first year that Simon will be accompanying Leo with trick or treat. Leo loves Simon to pieces– but Simon can’t figure out why. The soldier elicits fear from nearly everyone that he encounters, his mask makes children scream and run in the other direction. Hell, his mask makes adults piss themselves in the field. Many enemy soldiers have surrendered at the sight of Ghost running towards them. So Simon can’t wrap his head around the fact that his girlfriend’s little boy looks up at him like he’s the greatest person in the world. 

Simon is less than stellar with children. He tries, but he’s not entirely sure how to talk to them. He’s always a little awkward, generally avoiding children when he can, but this one seeks him out. Simon loves you more than anything, and he wants to form a relationship with Leo, he’s just not exactly sure how. He’s trying, for you and the boy. Leo’s biological dad is a piece of shit, which Simon has lived through, and he tries to shield the poor kid from that pain as much as possible. Maybe it’s because Leo reminds him so much of Tommy and Joseph, but your kid is special. 

–

“You ready, bud?” You ask, pulling a hoodie over your frame. It’s Simon’s and it’s oversized, stopping just above your knees. But it's comfortable, and late-October in Manchester is not. Immediately, you find yourself encompassed in its warmth and the smell of Simon’s cologne.

“Almost, mummy!” Leo yells from the bathroom. “Simon is gonna love this!”

You chuckle, “I know he will, baby.” You grab the fresh mug of tea from your nightstand and head down the carpeted stairs. Simon was to be here an hour before trick or treat. You check your watch. 18:00. As if on cue, the doorbell rings, sounding out loudly through your little home. Always punctual. Leo squeals out of excitement at the sound.

“Coming!” You holler, padding across the chilly living room towards the door. You jog lightly, causing a few drops of tea to spill over from the lip of your mug, dripping down to the floor and splashing against the hardwood floor. Ignoring the little mess, you pull the frosted glass door open. Simon is wearing his less civilian mask with the hard plastic skull face. You’d specifically requested that he wear it, though he wasn’t sure why.

“You can just come in, you know. You don’t have to ring the doorbell.” You chuckle, nodding for him to come in. He steps inside the door, hands softly gripping onto your waist as he kicks the door shut. 

“I told you to keep your door locked.” Simon raises an eyebrow, squeezing your waist. 

“Oh, right…” You hum, squinting your eyes as you recall that conversation, “I forgot.”

“Course you did, love.” Simon smirks, “Happy Halloween.” he says, and you chuckle, gripping his skull mask by the teeth and pushing it up over his face. His scarred lips are sporting a smile, and you kiss it away. It’s over all too quick as he pulls away, nodding towards the cup of tea in your hand. 

“The kettle’s still on, yeah?” He asks, pulling the mask back down over his face. 

“Yes, I’ll get you a cuppa.” You roll your eyes playfully. He’s cutting your kisses short for tea, something he’ll make up for later, you’re sure. Simon glances around the living room, noting the few abandoned truck toys that lie around the living room.

“Where’s Leo?” Simon asks, looking around the living room as you walk towards the kitchen. 

“He’s just finishing getting ready upstairs. Why don’t you go up? I'll bring your tea up.” You hum, grabbing a tea bag and Simon’s favorite mug. You hear heavy footsteps going up the stairs, and take that as his response. 

You shake your head, amused as you slowly pour the steaming water over the tea bag, watching it turn a rich brown. Once it’s properly mashed, you add his preferred amount of milk and sugar, and then carefully start up the stairs. Your footsteps are naturally much quieter than Simon’s, and with the added fact that you’re trying not to spill his tea, he doesn’t hear you coming up the steps. You reach the top, and stop dead in your tracks at the sight around the corner. Simon is walking towards Leo’s bedroom, but from the angle you’re at, you can see Leo hiding around the corner as if he's about to scare Simon. Leo is fully dressed in his Halloween costume, a little replica of the exact outfit Simon is currently wearing, skull mask and all.

“Boo!” Leo screams, rounding the corner that Simon was just about to go around.

Simon clutches his chest, jumping back a comical amount. Simon literally screams, attempting to sound terrified. Obviously Simon isn’t scared in the least, but Leo doesn’t know that. Simon lets the boy proudly think that his costume is scary enough to frighten the unshakeable. Leo’s smile is as bright as ever under his mask, and you grip the cup of tea a little tighter as a smile pulls at your own lips. Simon’s eyes are comically wide as he fakes terror for the young boy. Entirely satisfied with Simon’s reaction, Leo pulls his mask off, giggling madly. 

“It’s okay, Simon! It’s just me, don't be scared!” Leo giggles, jogging up towards Simon who is bent over at the waist, pretending to gasp for breath and holding his chest.

“Bloody hell, mate. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Simon chuckles, scooping Leo up into his arms. Once settled on Simon’s hip, Leo holds the plastic mask up to Simon’s face. It’s an exact replica of the mask he’s currently wearing, just much smaller. 

“Look! I'm just like you for Halloween!” Leo smiles, showing Simon all the little details that he’d put into perfecting his mask. 

“You–” Simon’s brow furrows, “You’re me for Halloween?” He asks, piecing it all together. Leo holds the mask out to Simon, who takes it and looks over the smaller version of Ghost’s infamous skull mask. 

“Yep! Do you like it…?” Leo asks, sounding a bit worried. His little eyebrows pull together, and Simon is quick to reassure him. 

“I love it, mate. It’s perfect, looks just like mine.” Simon whispers. There is emotion in his voice, unusual for him, you note. Tears prick your eyes as Leo puts the mask back on, looking up at Simon. 

“I wanna be like you when I grow up.” Leo says, wrapping his little arms around Simon’s neck. 

“You’re gonna be better than me, Leo. Much better, yeah?” Simon whispers, looking the boy in the eyes. Leo nods, curling up against Simon’s chest. He rubs his hand up and down Leo’s back, comforting him. 

“You know, Leo, you remind me of a boy I used to know.” Simon mumbles in a rare show of emotional vulnerability, his eyes glazed over as he pats the boy’s back. 

“Who?” Leo asks, propping his chin on Simon’s chest to look up at him better. 

“Uh–” Simon hesitates. “His name was Joseph… He was my nephew.” Simon whispers, and your heart wrenches in your chest. 

“Maybe I could meet him someday and we could play.” Leo whispers, hopefully looking up. 

“Yeah. Maybe someday.” Is all Simon says, nodding lightly as old, ugly memories pull at his brain, ones he’d shoved out and burned long ago. 

“I love you, Simon.” Leo whispers, hugging his little arms as tightly around the man as he can manage. He pulls Simon out of every dark thought he was having, those three little words pulling at his heart strings. Simon hesitates, voice stuttering for a moment. 

“Yeah– I love you too, little mate.” Simon whispers, voice heavy with emotion.

“This is gonna be so much fun– Mummy even helped me with my costume!” Leo adds, unintentionally changing the subject. He creates a perfect time for you to announce your presence. 

You hastily wipe your eyes and walk up the last step, rounding the corner you were just hiding behind. You catch Simon off guard, and he turns to you, slowly placing the young boy back on the ground.

“I didn’t hear you come up.” Simon whispers, taking the mug from your outstretched hands. He’s far away, lost in thought. Leo runs down the hall to grab his treat bag as Simon wraps his arm around your waist. 

“Didn’t want to spill your cuppa.” You explain, resting your head on his chest for a moment. Leo comes back around the corner with his bag, excitedly waiting for trick or treat to begin.

You smile up at Simon, noticing a few little tear tracks running down through his eye black.

ghost taglist: @moths569

[just-a-fluffy-knight]

Wolverine Tickle-Cannons!

My Deadpool headcannons can be found >>here!!<<

A/N: yeah uhhhhhh no one look at these /j 😭😭 I am aware that I have requests to get to but I do not have enough motivation to complete a fic rn and Deadpool and Wolverine is all I can think about right now sooooo here’s a lil bit of food for y’all 🤲🏻

Another thing: These headcannons are for Deadpool 3 Wolverine only, as I haven’t seen any other movies with him in 😞 so these may not even be accurate and incredibly ooc butttttt oh well :3

⚠️ Another thing!! These do contain minor spoilers soooo feel free to come back to this later 👋🏻 Hope y’all like these!! :]] ⚠️

@neppy-34 I apologise I stole some of your ideas we shared feel free to sue me 😞🙏🏻 /lh

Lee:

Yk what??? Fuck you /pos *slams down a bunch of possibly ooc headcannons*

HES TOO GRUMPY I NEED HIM TO SMILEEEEE

Definitely deadpans you like in the gif above if you ask him the dreaded “are you twordish?” question

But he is :]

Like we’ve all seen that X-Men scene that reveals his stomach is ticklish right??

ALSO. HIS FUCKIN LAUGH HERE (scene from the movie used)

THE WHEEZE AND THE SNORT JUST AUGH (imma get him)

His weak spots are definitely his belly and ribs but I feel like Wade would also scratch behind his ears or under his chin to be an asshole

“Whosh a snorty wittle honey badger, huuuuh? You are! Yes, you are-!”

“SHUT THE FUHUCK UP!”

To add onto this he also cusses like a sailor when getting wrecked

Acts incredibly pissy before, during and after getting wrecked, but lets out these like…. content little growls JSJSGAHSHD IDEK ANYMORE DUDE

Will definitely need to restrain him if you don’t wanna accidentally get sliced by his claws or kicked across the room

Like he definitely cut Wade’s hands off once and he was like

“…Bud I kinda need those to do this-“

“Why the hell do you think I just did that?”

ALSO ALSO the scene in the bar where he was drunk?? Bro literally giggled omg

So he’s definitely an easier target if he’s drunk like his claws barely come out and he smiles so much more 😭❤️

But once he sobers up he acts way more grumpy than he usually does, claiming he doesn’t remember any of that shit even though he does VIVIDLY-

Okay one final thing Wade definitely carries him like a bride to milk the joke that he’s short asf in the comics

Ler:

Y’KNOW WHAT?? FUCK YOU AGAIN /pos (slams down even MORE possibly ooc headcannons)

Okay lemme just start with the gif above??

Like that’s literally him if you’re being annoying and he’s trying so hard to just deal with it but then you drop one joke that really riles him up

“…Okay, that’s it, you little shit-“

Okay I feel like this is something that you’d really have to get his playful side out for him to do, but the scene where he dashes towards Wade on all fours??

Yeah he’d do that in a chase

Like specifically to scare Wade

“Oh, we’re gonna do this? Fine, let’s fuckin go.” *gets down and SCARPERS*

“*SCREAM-!* HOLY SHIHIT SPIDER SOCIETY COME GEHET YOUR FUCKING BOSS-“

(yes I did drop a Miguel Ohara reference because that was the first thing I thought of watching that scene for the first time 😭)

Oh and he’ll definitely wreck Wade to tears if he’s being too irritating

Like?? There’s a way to shut him up that doesn’t involve him uselessly stabbing him because he’ll only regenerate anyway?? Fuck yeah‼️

I doubt he’d be one to tease per se, but he’s definitely a massive asshole about wrecking you

“Jesus Christ, you’re loud. You mind? I’m trynna focus here.”

“This isn’t fair? Life ain’t fair. You’re the one who decided to mouth me off, so who’s really at fault here?”

HED ALSO DO THIS THING WHERE while he’s wrecking you he’ll suddenly stop and be like

“So? You ready to stop being a jackass?”

But you’re still too giggly and busy trying to get your breath back to respond so he’ll go

“No? Alright, suit yourself.”

Buuuuuut sometimes you may catch him smirking or chuckling at how much you’re laughing your ass off :]

Raspberries and tickle bites?

………………….yes

Like bro look at those fuckin MUTTONCHOPS

They would tickle so bad omfg

Like imagine him growling into your neck or belly or AUGHSHSHAHA

okay I’m done

And as a lil bonus here’s some more silly ideas involving ‘The Greatest Showman’ references because we both thought that shit was hilarious 😭😭

AAAAAA hope you guys liked these I am very insane about Deadpool and Wolverine if you couldn’t tell :33

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Listen, I know we all have stuff to do and summer is coming up and aaaaaaaargh, but in the name of Optimus Prime I'm begging y'all to shed the habit of using descriptors like 'the shorter one' or 'the blond one' instead of using proper names.

This is a very common trope in fanfiction, and I get it, it gets so boring to write the character names over and over again. I also know it will be so hard to unlearn, don't ask me about the pain and suffering I have endured. But you have to break yourself out of this habit, because all it's doing is making your stories harder to follow and losing your readers.

Let's say you're writing an Avengers fanfic, and you've got Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor in the room together. The following scene might go a little something like this:

"We must stop Unicron," the blond one said, flexing his muscles.

"Indeed," the dark-haired one replied. "If only he weren't so handsome for a metal monster."

"Thou is speaking nonsense," the bearded man said, subtly flexing his biceps harder. "Also, who is speaking right now?"

(Yes, I did write Unicron instead of Ultron like I'm pretending not to be a nerd, shut up.)

The actual dialogue tag indicators above are nonsense, pure gibberish, and those exaggerated for effect, wouldn't it just be easier to follow if you just used names? Also, sometimes Tony's goatee is more beard-like so it's even less helpful in figuring out who's talking. Depends on what era of comics you're reading.

ANYWAY, Who is doing what is one of the most important things you need to convey. In a busy dialogue scene, in a high action scene, especially in a romance scene between two people of the same gender, clarity is key. It feels boring to write, I know. It will be a better scene in the end.

So when should you use character descriptors in your writing?

When you need to reiterate an important character feature that is either relevant to how the main character views them or how they view themselves. Example: Her brother, the soldier, the Hobbit, etc.

When you need to reiterate an important character feature to the plot. Example: The god of thunder, the stowaway, the white witch, etc.

When you have a minor character who is better defined by their job or role than there name. Example: The second mate, the boatswain, the cook, etc.

When appropriate to the scene. This one is harder to define, but if you have a quiet moment where the main character reflects on the scoundrel he has a crush on, long paragraphs of just using the name Alex might be better peppered descriptors of his personality or notable features, or - depending on your character - 'that cocky asshole.'

When shouldn't you use character descriptors? When they are boring, unhelpful, and not distinctive. Referring constantly to someone as "the taller man" or "the blonde" will come back to haunt your ass years down the road, believe me. Break free from this prison before you snap awake at 3am, haunted by the one stupid scene you can never unwrite.

[youling-the-ghost]

sfth incorrect quotes pt.8 because I have to compensate for not posting these for almost a week even though I just posted one yesterday

AJ: Adulting is hard. AJ: How do I quit? Tom: Time travel. Sam: Die. (yes the time travel was a reference to Tom's lesbian scifi comic) Luke: I'm gonna need a human skull but you can't ask why. Sam: Only if you also don't ask why. Sam: *pulls four pristine human skulls out of his bag* Luke: ... Luke, grabbing a skull: This one will do. Tom: Damn, the power went out. AJ: Don’t worry, I got this. AJ: *shakes rapidly and starts to light up* Tom: What-? AJ: I swallowed a glow stick! Tom, on the verge of tears: WHY WOULD YOU-

Luke: But who gets which pencil? Sam: Since they're my things, I get the good one, Tom and AJ get the broken ones and you don't get one because fuck you. Sam: Why do you not believe that ghosts are real? Tom: Never seen one. Sam: Okay, I mean, there’s a lot of things that you can’t see that are real. Tom: What can’t I see? Sam: You can’t see gravity. That’s real. Tom: Yeah, I can drop an apple. Sam: Fuck. AJ: *is hugging Luke* Tom: Hey! It's my turn to hug Luke! Tom: *grabs Luke* Sam: *kicks down the door* What do you mean, "yOuR tUrN"? We agreed now is my time slot! AJ: No, It's still my turn! Luke, suffocating: Guys, I love you, but just because I'm the smallest doesn't mean you can be hugging me constantly! AJ: But we need the moral support! Tom: And you're small! Which is cute! Sam: If I don't hug you right now I think the depression will kick in and my body will stop functioning. Luke, close to tears: Well- I, I guess. Luke: I hate you with every inch of my body! Sam: That’s not a lot of inches. AJ, texting: Don't worry, I have your phone! Text me when you're gonna come get it! Tom: I have no respect for Santa. Don’t sneak in through the chimney and undermine my authority by bringing my family presents. Walk in through the front door and fight me like a man. Tom: There are three ways to handle a difficult situation. The right way, the wrong way, and the Sam way. AJ: Isn't that the wrong way? Tom: Yes, but it's faster. Hairdresser: How would you like your hair cut? Sam: Preferably with scissors, but a sword could be badass. Luke: What do you call a dictionary on drugs? Tom: If you say "addict-ionary" I swear I will slap you. Luke: I was actually going to say "high definition", but your answer's much better. Tom: *sees someone doing something stupid* Tom: What an idiot. Tom: *realizes it's AJ* Tom: Wait, that's MY idiot! Sam: Can you pass the salt? Luke: Can you pass away? Sam: Too much salt. Luke: I mean, sure, I have my bad days, but then I remember what a cute smile I have. Tom: Say no to drugs. Luke: Say yes to drugs. Sam: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs. If you're talking to drugs.. then you're on drugs. Sam: Yum, thanks! Kidnapper: *puts more tape over his mouth* I said stop eating it. Luke, to the Squad: If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands! *silence* Luke: Damn, y’all depressed as fuck! AJ: You didn’t clap either- Luke: SHUT UP! AJ: English is CRAZY. Oregano is both a spaghetti leaf topping and a form of paper art! Tom: What is this "paper art" you speak of? AJ: That shit where you make cranes and stuff out of folded paper! Tom: ...AJ. AJ: I honestly feel like some of our conversations here are almost word-for-word accurate to the generator. Tom: Yup. Sam: Maybe the generator is watching us. AJ: Wouldn't that imply this conversation will be added? AJ: ... AJ: Wait— (I just included this because breaking the 4th wall is funny) AJ: This was almost a great idea. Sam: You just described 90% of our stuff. Tom: I’ve never smoked marijuana. I ate a brownie once at a party. It was intense. It was kind of indescribable. I felt like I was floating. Turns out there was no pot in the brownie. It was just an insanely good brownie. AJ: Hey do you wanna hang out this weekend? Luke: Generic excuse. AJ: I can’t believe you said that out loud, to my face. Luke: I can. AJ: Wasn't icarly that guy that girlbossed too close to the sun because he was down for Apollo? Sam: ICARUS? Tom: Is something burning? Luke: My burning love for you of course! Tom: ... Luke: ... Luke: And the kitchen is on fire... AJ: Hey, did you know as a kid I accidentally ate paper? Luke: I feel like we've all done that at least once. Sam: I ate it too- Luke: See? Sam: -On purpose... AJ & Luke: ...What? Tom, texting Sam: Roses are red, Tony Hawk is a skater... Sam′s phone, auto-replying: I’m driving right now–I’ll get back to you later. *Later* Sam, texting back: Fuck you.

[freak-accident419]

playing cards

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | More parts coming soon

Summary: Jessica proposes an idea to you and Derek, offering a luxurious business retreat. While your fake boyfriend started to get used to his mother’s praise, 100% up for the idea, you have a bad feeling about it.

Word Count: 3.3k

Content: gender-neutral reader, swearing/profanity, drug use via weed pen, reader is extremely done with Derek

(A/n: little itty bitty cameo to my buddies <33 i love you guys so much, thank you for being amazing to me. And for everyone, thank you for supporting me and being patient, i appreciate you all very much.)

-

You and Derek sat down on a round table, drinking more of the complimentary champagne, your sips almost comically in sync. The two of you were slumped groggily on your chairs as if you were completely wasted, except you weren’t quite there yet. It was your ultimate goal for the remainder of the night, however.

“My feet hurt,” Derek mumbled childishly, referring to the toe-stepping incident during your dance.

“Shut up,” you retort.

Both of you were extremely worn out. Mentally and physically.

“You’ve got two left feet, you know that?”

“Shut the fuck u—” You instantly stopped yourself as you suddenly saw Jessica walk up to your table with a warm, kind smile. You could’ve sworn you’ve never seen this type of genuinely pleasant expression on her face, especially since you were always accustomed to a disappointed frown aimed towards her son.

“Derek. Y/n.” She grinned and it was so sweet that you felt your teeth rotting by the second. Shit, you’ve never seen her this happy around Derek before. “I have something I’d like to talk to you about.” You and Derek shared a curious look until you turned your heads back at her.

“Oh, uh, yes, mother?” Derek raises an eyebrow. He would always use the term in a more satirical manner, but you could tell he was trying to give the impression that it was genuine. It was to accentuate his newly acquired formality nevertheless, but you were just worried he was trying too hard with this gracious façade. Essentially, he looked foolish.

“Well, I recently got in touch with several businesspeople and they have been really interested in investing in Danforth Enterprises. I was notified of a huge networking event that I think would be good for the company, Derek. And I also believe that you would be very interested in it,” she began promptly, a look of anticipation shining through her bright eyes.

You could tell that Derek was unhappy with where this was going, just by the mere scrunch of his nose. He’s never liked business events, hell, he wasn’t even happy with this one.

“It’s a luxurious three-day cruise to the Bahamas. Most of the fees are covered, but either way it wouldn’t be a problem,” she explained, invoking you with utter dread. It was so tragically and curiously ironic; anybody else would kill to go on a magnificent three-day cruise. “It’s next week and I thought it would be good to socialize and get closer with other CEO’s and corporate leaders. Seal some kind of deal, you know? Plus, it’s a beautiful getaway and I think the two of you would enjoy a nice vacation as a couple.”

If Derek agrees to this, you were sure to castrate him.

“That sounds, uh, lovely,” you began politely. “Unfortuna—ow!” You cut yourself off after feeling a harsh stomp on your foot under the table, realizing it was Derek’s short heel of his shoe. You scowled at him subtly, not wanting to make some kind of scene in front of his mother or replenish her with suspicion.

“What my dear partner meant to say was,” noted Derek with a shitty smirk on his lips, “that it’s a great idea, Mom. Connecting with companies and the business community, or whatever, uh, as well as being surrounded by luxury at sea.”

Jessica smiled at his remark before you shoved Derek’s shoe away from yours, butting in: “Yes, yes. I agree, very great. However—”

“What Y/n is solely concerned about is simply the cost, you know. We’d rather use our plethora of money for charity and philanthropy, but,” Derek looks at you mischievously, “Don’t worry, darling, this trip will be great for us and the company.”

You swore you were going to kick his ass. What the hell was he doing? You were supposed to ‘break up’ tomorrow. “Well, no, I mean, yes, but I don’t think I—”

“I am one hundred percent sure that we can make it, Mother. We—”

Say bye-bye to your balls, Danforth. “Seasick. I get seasick. It’s horrible, I barf everywhere, on the floorboards, in front of the kids, on people, it’s a whole thing, it’s just—just a terrible sight, a-a really terrible feeling,” you falsely claimed in a stammer, which somehow convinced Jessica even though she’s seen you thriving recklessly on a party yacht before.

“It’s okay, honey, you can take your… uh, medication, right? That always works.” He smiles, using yet another corny term of endearment as he adds on to your lie. Jessica smiled unsurely as she constantly switched between looking at you and Derek.

“Busy,” you state firmly. “I’m sorry, but I think we will be very busy on that da—” You attempted to interject before Derek butts in once again, evoking murderous intent in you.

“Well, we can always cancel whatever is—”

“No,” you whispered harshly.

There was a short, awkward pause in the very thick atmosphere that you swore you could cut it with a knife. Until Derek spoke up once again, of course. “Hold on, Mom, can you give us a moment to think about it?” He finally says, in such an infuriatingly innocent way, making your eye twitch.

“Yes, of course,” she replies sweetly, nodding as she watched Derek pull your arm towards a corner of the room.

“What the fuck, Derek?!” You hissed, glaring at him with frustration as you jerked away his grip on you. “No! We are ‘breaking up’ tomorrow, remember? Your—Your mom’s not even going on the cruise, so what’s the point?!”

“Y/n. Y/n, please, don’t you understand? More investments in us, more money! You see her motive behind this, Y/n, she wants us to publicize our relationship to fix my reputation. The video is still out there, you know. We already convinced her and now she wants us to convince the world.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms. “That’s—This is stupid. This is stupid! Derek, this is stupid.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that, like, three times alrea—”

“Derek! Are you fucking kidding me? This was not part of the goddamn deal, okay? I played my part, I was your fake date for the night, for the one night you promised, and now I’m done,” you declared firmly, refusing to listen to any of his needless reasoning. “I’m done!”

“Y/n, Y/n, please. You’re my best friend, just do this for me. And look, it’s basically a free vacation for you if you just—”

“Nuh-uh. No! I’m not some kind of fuckin’ actor! Posing with you as my boyfriend is already mortifying enough!”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean—”

“Not important!” You hissed. “You can’t just—Look, she’s already convinced about the fake relationship and this whole illusion we’re putting up! Isn’t that enough? I’m sure of it, Derek, she won’t cut you off!”

Derek sighed, yet he was still confident that he could convince you. “Y/n, c’mon,” he urged, “I’ve—I’ve already pleased her so much tonight, I—”

And somehow, the rest of his sentence was muffled in your mind because you could only think of what he had just said. Pleasing his mother? That’s what all this bullshit was for?

“Oh,” you nearly chuckle, interrupting his long ramble. “I know exactly what this is about.”

“Wh—? What are you talking about—”

“I know you, Derek, it’s not about the money or the cutting-off shit anymore. You like making your mother proud. You like seeing her smile because of you and your fucking fake accomplishments and lies. Admit it, man, I can see right through you!”

“I—No, hell no! I—I’m not some fucking ‘mama’s boy’!” You raised an eyebrow in disbelief at his statement. “I—I just need to—to solidify everything and make sure I’m not on her radar anymore.”

You chuckled darkly, scoffing at him. “Oh my god, you are a complete load of bullshit.” You paused. “Are—Are you fucking pouting? No! …No! Don’t—Don’t give me that stupid fucking look!”

“I’m not—I wasn’t pouting!” He huffed, glaring at you.

“Derek, this is all on you! I’d hate to admit it, but this is your wake up call, dude, you haven’t done any real shit to make her proud of you like this! And you still haven’t done any real shit! Hell, I could even sense the blood draining from your body when you participated in that auction!” Deep down, however, you knew he would never admit to you his true incompetence; he was too overly conceited.

“What? No, that—that doesn’t matter, look—” he groaned, knowing to himself that you were right, but completely dismissing it. “Just do this for me, three days. Three fucking days!”

“Nope. No! I’m not—I’m not doing that shit!” You retort stubbornly.

Derek runs his hand through his hair, now knowing that you were too insistant. “I—I’ll throw you on a fuckin’ G6 to Hawaii for—for a whole week! And I’ll—I’ll give you even more money than what you asked for, I just… I just need this. Please.”

Derek never begged. Not like this, at least, so it surprised you to the fullest. You knew his rocky relationship with his mother, but you didn’t know pleasing her, at the very least, was this important to him. And after all, you’ve always wanted a week long of pure tranquility at a vacation spot.

Finally, to Derek’s relief, you sighed, wiping your face down with your palm and looked at him tiredly. “Fiji,” you muttered.

“What?”

“Fiji. Take me to Fiji instead.”

“Uh, sure, yes, of course, I… Does—Does this mean you’re gonna do it?” He asked immediately, gasping softly.

“Yes,” you groan, “Yeah. Fine, fine, whatever.”

“Wait. Wait, really?” He nearly beams, the unfamiliar expression on your face almost disturbing you.

“Yes. But you better stick to your word, okay?” You hissed, shoving his chest with your finger. “If I don’t end up in a beautiful suite in Fiji, surrounded by the thousands of cash you promised, I’m shooting you in the face.” Derek’s nod opted you to walk back towards the table where Jessica waited, him following you from behind.

“Hi, Mom,” he greets his mother, displaying that same annoying, cheeky smile. “The two of us have discussed it, and we decided to take up on that offer.”

Immediately, Jessica Danforth grins warmly, and you could feel it in your own cheeks as to how sore her mouth would’ve felt from how much she smiled tonight.

“That’s great news,” she replies pleasantly. “All the info will be sent via email. I’m happy for the two of you. And I’m so happy for you, Derek.”

His mother leans in to embrace Derek, hugging him briefly before pulling away to face him.

“Oh, and can I invite my tech buddies too?” He raises an eyebrow, resulting in another smile on Jessica’s face as she rubbed his shoulder affectionately.

“Sure thing,” she answers, kissing the top of his head once more before walking away to mingle with the other partygoers.

“This is going to be a long fucking week,” you huffed.

“Yup,” Derek agreed with mutual burnout, swiftly making his way toward the bar and completely disappearing from your sight. He clearly wasn’t thrilled to continue this huge act of deception either, even if it benefited him greatly and was his own proposal he begged you to agree to. You had always been so confused by his behavior, even knowing him for several years.

Sighing, you checked in your pockets for your phone but instead, you suddenly found… your fuckin’ cart… Holy shit. You didn’t even remember bringing it in the first place. Smiling to yourself, you looked around the room for Derek. But apparently he was too fucking short for you to see, because where in the hell did he go? He was just here a second ago, how did he run off so quick?

“Hey, you look like a… a Moscow Mule kind of gal,” Derek smirks cunningly as he checks out a young, beautiful woman at the bar.

“Uh, no, actually—”

“Right. It’s a Hurricane Cocktail, sorry. I totally read you wrong—”

“Actually—”

“Fuck... Espresso Martini?”

“No, uh—”

“Dirty Shirley?”

“Uh—”

“Amaretto Sour.”

Derek observed the hesitant expression on her face, conveying his awkward inaccuracy in reading her. He had tried to reference some of his old hookups in his mind, remembering most of their favorite beverages that he would guess correctly, but his charm and speculation skills had clearly failed him tonight. “Fine, I give up, what is it?”

“I, uh… I mean, I really like Spicy Margaritas,” she answers with a small smile.

He let out a defeated sigh, her response slightly bruising his ego. “Dammit... Wow. You know, I never would’ve guessed that—”

“Derek,” you grunt harshly, pulling him away from the bar by his arm once you finally spotted him. “Can’t you keep it in your pants for one fucking second?! You’re supposed to be dating me, remember? No flirting with other people if you don’t wanna blow our fucking cover! You’re the shit-prick who asked me of this in the first place and you can’t even play your own part!”

“Right. Shit. Sorry,” he huffs in exasperation, a bit embarrassed from either his mistake or the cocktail reading of before. Perhaps even both.

Dragging him to a corner, you looked around to make sure no one was looking. Then very discreetly, you took out the weed pen from earlier, presenting it to Derek.

“Hey,” you began, poking him lightly. “You wanna get high?”

***

The two of you retreated to an empty and magnificently spacious bathroom, sitting on the ground against the wall as you took turns passing the vape. Several minutes had passed already and by now, you were in a torpid stage of lethargy together.

“Chumbawamba,” Derek states abruptly after you passed him the cart.

You continued to stare deeply into the porcelain tiles of the floor, yet your face had contorted into a befuddled expression after hearing Derek’s comment. “What?”

“You know. Tubthumping.”

“Wh—”

“I don’t know, it just got in my head just now,” he shrugged.

“I feel bad for you,” your eyebrows raised as you sluggishly rotated your head to finally face him, “that song is a shit song... Hey, what were you saying to that poor girl earlier?”

“I, uh,” he wipes his eye briefly with his finger, “I was trying to guess her favorite drink.”

“Yeah? How’d you do that? Do you look at her clothes or her body language, or—?”

“I actually, uh, just started listing the favorite drinks of my past assistants,” he confessed, pursing his lips vacantly, “the one’s I’ve had, uh… flings with.”

“Wow,” you let out a low whistle, chuckling softly. You remembered those people very well. None of them had worked for him anymore, of course, due to his harsh and unsurprising inability to commit. “You’re such an asshole.”

There was a short pause as he took a hit before speaking again, his face looking less tense—guilty, even. You probably had been too baked to read his expression correctly, doubting that he could be even a tad remorseful, until you heard his next set of words. “Look, I, uh… I’m… I’m sorry for, uh… dragging you into this. I just… I really need this, you know? You understand, right?”

You sigh softly before smirking, lighting up the mood with the curl of your lips, much brighter than the end of the vape pen could ever get. “You, Derek Danforth, asshole of all assholes, are sorry?” A breathy scoff escaped your mouth. Tonight, your best friend had been relentlessly surprising you with his confessions—damn, as if the pleading from before wasn’t enough.

“I—” He chuckles it off, not wanting to feel completely vulnerable. “I know, I know. But… Fuck, I can’t help but feel… shitty for it, okay?”

Your eyebrows raised again in suspicion. “Uh-oh. The grand needle of the great, moral compass stab you in the dick?”

“Y/n—”

“Alright, I’m done, I’m sorry…” you smile gently, hearing a lighthearted huff from him.

“It’s just… If anything seems off, my mom would suspect something, you know? So we have to just… wing it sometimes. But,” he began as he thought about before, “but if it gets too much for you, then just… let me know. And anyways, we just have to prove it to a couple of old rich guys for a few days. They don’t know as much about us as my mom, so we can make shit up however we want.”

Derek hated being vulnerable. He hated being kind, he hated being empathetic, he hated being seen as a generic, mediocre human. Because he wasn’t. He was extremely powerful, his company was an entire, capitalistic empire. Nobody deserved his empathy, his kindness, or his mercy.

However, he would forget all of that hatred and his entire superiority complex whenever you were with him. You were his best friend, after all. You’ve been there for him since college, and really, no one else has ever been there for him for that long—not even his own mother. You kept him stable.

The more you thought about the predicament of this illusion you two had to pull off, the more unsure you felt about it. “Yeah, but what if we’re in front of people and you keep talking your mouth off about a lie that I’m not okay with? Like, I don’t want you to make up something stupid or embarrassing about me in front of those high-and-mighty billionaires,” you frowned.

“Then… Then, I don’t know, you could give me some kind of signal, a-a gesture or code word, or—”

“What, like Chumbawamba?” You smirk knowingly, making his eyes roll as he took another lazy hit from the weed pen.

“Sure, yeah, fine, like Chumbawamba…”

He passed you back the cart, allowing you to place your lips around the mouthpiece for another drag. “Hey, uh… I’m sorry too. I was being a bit harsh and I should’ve seen things from your perspective,” you sigh as you thought more about his relationship with his mom. “I… I know what you’re doing, and I respect that. But… someday you have to make something of yourself, like, for real. Promise me that you’ll actually do something on your own that deserves your mother’s praise.”

“Uh, yeah,” he nods casually, feeling slightly insecure from your call out, “I’ll try.”

Suddenly, another thought appeared in your head, stemming from your previous recollection of Derek and Jessica’s relationship. You snorted out a short chuckle from the memory, eager to remind him about it. “Hey,” you grin widely, “remember… remember that one charity function for animal rights—”

“Oh, fuck no. No—” Derek groans immediately, putting his head in his hands as he already knew what you were about to bring up. “Y/n—”

“And out of, like, fucking everything, you chose to roast… an entire, fucking cow for the event? Mind you, at the event where a bunch of vegan, animal-loving, rich and powerful assholes would be?”

The two of you burst out into boisterous laughter at the foolish memory, amused and drug-induced giggles echoing in the bathroom. “Oh, god, my mom was so pissed at me for that.”

“Very pissed. I mean, I would know, I was there,” you remarked with a soft chuckle.

“Hey, to—to be fair, I was pretty baked back then when I arranged it all,” Derek slightly and without guilt, smiles.

“Of course you fucking were,” you scoff lightheartedly, “Hell, I think even I was too.”

There was a quiet laughter between the two of you, formulating a silent pause right after. A pause of comforting silence, however. It always would be.

”Just these three days,” Derek reminded, urging you to gain his trust. “I promise you, Y/n, just three days. No more than that.”

“Right.” You easily answered with a nod, passing him the pen as you blew out the smoke from your parted lips. “No more than that.”

[spaceistheplaceart]

Body Swap - The Exorcism Part Two

wanted to do a bit more but ough i am TIRED... this took a lot out of me lmao but i hope y'all enjoy! lmk what u think in the tags/replies/asks :)

masterpost

previous

(Please Reblog! Leave a comment in the tags! They make me very happy :)

SUMMARIZED ID: Reigen and Mob are shown the client's living room, it is in disarray. Reigen begins investigating the room, but begins to feel the presence of spirits... They keep a sharp eye out, as something moves about the room quickly.

FULL ID UNDER CUT

START ID:

(This is a body swap, so I'll be referring to the characters as who they actually are but keep in mind that Reigen is in Mob's body and vice versa.)

Mob watches Dimple fly leave, then goes inside Hiroto's house by shutting the door.

Cut to inside, Hiroto is opening a door for Mob and Reigen. Reigen has his hands on his hips. The client says, "This is where it's been happening." The room inside is moderately sized with a triple pane window on the far left wall. There is a fireplace, a couch, a ripped up armchair, two carpets- both rumpled and one torn, a doggy bed, a toy train, some balls, a tipped over coffee table, some askew and fallen paintings, some shelving units, and a chest of drawers on the right hand wall that has upon it multiple knick knacks. A drawer is missing from it and laying on the floor. There is a book with some pages torn out as well. All in all, it's a room that has seen some damage.

Hiroto lifts a nearby painting, showing three long scratches that were seen previously in the comic as a flashback. "See?" He says, looking at Mob. Mob looks at the scratches, somewhat narrowing his eyes. "Hmm..."

Reigen steps in, leaned over with his hand on his chin, looking at the scratches. Hiroto looks down at him, a little surprised. Reigen asks, "Hmm... have you noticed any strange smells?" "Smells?" The client repeats.

"Yes, like something rotting or damp. Spirits can sometimes carry over scents from their bodies, and that helps us determine which kind of ghost it is." Reigen says, gesturing with one hand while pointing upwards with the other. Hiroto shrugs, smile askew. "No, I haven't smelled anything strange..." He turns to Mob. "What do you think?"

Mob stands in the middle of the room, looking up. "Hmmm. I... don't feel anything." His speech bubble is overlapped by Reigen's, "AHAHA!!!" Reigen laughs, moving to Mob's side and resting one hand on Mob's arm, smiling wide and nervous as he explains to Hiroto: "They must be so weak that my Master is having a hard time picking up on them, but I can sense something in this room... ah, I can sense weaker spirits-- you know. I take care of them for my Master."

Mob gives Reigen a deadpan look. "Is that all you do?" Reigen's smile dims and he sweats.

"Al... right. Well, I'll leave you two to it... I've got to run to the store for a bit..." Hiroto crosses his arms. "And those ghosts better be gone when I get back."

Reigen waves a hand dismissively, using his customer service smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Hiroto, we'll have your spirit problem taken care of in no time!"

Hiroto begins to shut the door. He smiles nervously. "Sure thing..." He leaves.

After a moment, Mob looks down at Reigen, who is now crouching and looking at the scratches. He joins him on the floor.

Reigen says, "Hm... This guy could have a mouse problem. Or termites, possibly... hopefully not."

"I don't think mice could tip over chairs, Master."

"True, but the dogs could chase the mice and knockk over the chairs...." Reigen holds up a finger, his eyes are shut as he lectures Mob. "Always rule out the probable, Mob! Then, you can start looking for the less probable." Mob looks unimpressed.

Reigen stands up, hand in his pocket. "You do have a point, Mob. Although I hate to admit it... This could be a real hauntiiii-IIING!" His speech transitions into a yelp as his back straightens and eyes go wide. The background of the panel is dark with white wisps darting across it. Reigen crosses his arms and glares off to the side, his hair floating up due to his psychic abilities. He shudders. "Do you think the client would notice if we turned his A/C up? It's freezing in here!"

"I'm not cold." Mob responds.

Reigen grits his teeth and narrows his eyes, still tense. He's shivering. "Huh? It's freezing! Are you anemic or... something? Sensitive to cold?"

"No, I think the cold is probably the spirits."

Reigen flinches, then looks off to the side, smiling nervously. "Oh! Yes! Yes. The spirits! I recognize it now. Uh... you don't feel anything, do you?"

"Nope."

"Great." He puts his hand to his chin in thought. "What do you see, then? Anything?"

"Master, I don't have powers right now, remember?"

Reigen stares at Mob, his hair floating up due to his powers again. The background is dark and shadow-y, with the colouring of Reigen being all white. He's pale.

The next panel is of a similar style, dark and silent as they both look at eachother.

Mob angles his head down, looking at Reigen through his bangs and sweating slightly. "... Because we've switches bodies, I only have your powers right now... not mine?" The panel colour is lighter, and Reigen's hair calms slightly.

"Right." Reigen says, sighing and turning away from Mob, arms crossed. The panel is nearly white again, like normal. Mob is looking to the side, too, eyes downturned with a sweat drop on his cheek.

A view of a model train set, turned over. The carpet is rumpled and there is a painting sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Reigen speaks, "I definitely feel something in this room... but I don't see it. Keep a sharp eye out, just in case. Even if you're having trouble with my powers, I'm sure you can still pull something off."

Mob and Reigen stand back to back, glancing around the room. Then something 'wooshes', represented by a panel with a dark gray background and white lines flowing across it with the text 'woosh' on it.

Reigen startles, turning to look at the far side of the room. There is nothing of note there. He sees only the window, the couch, and the chair.

END ID.

[cupcakeslushie]

LITA MAY LITA MAY LITA MAY

Ok ok so I have like a bunch of questions feel free to ignore BUT

I) she has a tail. Is that a Kraang feature or do all the turtles in your universe have tails and hers is just extended?

II) Uh pink? Pink like Kraang? Did she choose her life colors, or???

III) Is. Is she. Is she autistic too

IV) Draxum-Hamato sooooo what does she call them? Did they argue about nicknames? Also was it Donnie’s choice to include Draxum’s name as well

V) Lita in the comics???

VI) Is there a reason her shell isn’t smooth like Donnie’s?

VII) What does she call Renet?

VIII) Ninpo question mark?

IX) Pupils! I love the way you draw her pupils. Is there a reason or is it just fun

X) Does she have a certain resistance to Kraang mind digging? Like that thing they did to interrogate Raph in the movie? To read his memories?

XI) So the cloak/scarf thing is Leo, the purple accents and stripes are Donnie, and the kneepads are Mikey. Any Raph references in her clothes?

Apologies if you’ve answered these before and I just didn’t see them! Have a good day and give Lita one too for goodness sakes girl’s had it rough already

1. It’s more of a Krang feature. I do love when the turtles are drawn with tails, but I didn’t do it from the beginning, and so for consistency sake in the EW universe I’ve held off. Maybe one day I’ll just say “fuck it” and give into the urge to give them all cute little tails. But even if I did, Lita’s would be much longer than any of the family’s (except Raph’s hypothetical tail lol).

2. Lita being albino and pink in the IDW comics pretty much made that Krang connection for me lol. I didn’t have to reach too hard with her design. She leans into it.

3. I have her personality very close to Leo’s canon personality, so she’s more on the ADHD side. She does have some sensory issues with sound, which a lot of ppl with adhd have (👋🏻). But being raised around the quiet and solemn Time Masters Sanctum it’s like really noticeable. When she visits the family, it can be very overwhelming, but rather than shutting down, she gets insanely riled up and can’t contain herself. It works though—everyone is more than happy to let her ramble on.

4. She never met either of them but Splinter of course would’ve been Jiji and Draxum would’ve been just Grandfather. Nothing too out of this world lol. And yes, Donnie chooses to embrace Draxum’s name.

5. Sorry idk what exactly this is asking. Like yes? Lita May is based off IDW Lita, from the comics 😅 sorry if I’m missing the question.

6. She is a spiny soft shell like Donnie, but yes, her spines are significantly more pronounced, thanks to, you guessed it!

7. Master Renet, or Aunty Ren in a more causal setting.

8. 🤫 we’ll see (I’m still trying to think of something cool and not too OP lol)

9. Her eyes are just for design fun, and to link her to Donnie some more!

10. That’s gonna be another big 🤫, but less because I haven’t decided and more just for the big spoilers! 😜

11. She’s kinda got two outfits atm and I think I might end up merging the two. Her simpler outfit of just her wraps and mask are very Raph coded, so I wanna figure out some sort of middle ground with the two.

[homunculus-argument]

This is just my personal language-tumblr pet peeve, but it really gets me every time I want to bring up some quirk of the finnish language and somebody responds with "english has that too!" and then explains something completely different that does not resemble what I just described in any fathomable way. Like dude. Bro. Brother. Brethren. I am literally talking to you in english. I speak your first language better than you understand mine. The word "kasvot" is not on the same level of formality as "countenance" or "visage", nor have you ever seen someone refer to someone's face with either word without getting their ass beat for being that pretentions.

Yes, the english language has the word "insubordinate" as both an adjective and a noun, but when I say that niskuroida does not have an english translation, the nuance lost in translation is the casual informality of the verb. I've never encountered a farmer who actually works with their hands who would say that a goat or a mule is "being insubordinate" when the beast is acting like a little shit. The fact that in finnish, the exact same verb is used for soldiers who refuse to follow orders due to poor discipline, and a literal jackass acting like a jackass, is the part I found comical.

My first language has at least three verbs, two adjectives, and one adverb derived from the word "cunt", and literally none of them have anything to do with sex. The words "voiton voimainen" can translate either to "in the sense of vigour of victory" or "butter-free, yet buttery" depending on whether you pronounce them as one word or pause for a comma in the middle. When I speak of some complete fuckery of the finnish language, I am specifically speaking of it in contrast to english.

Not to be a gatekeeper of linguistics, but if someone knows two things and you know one thing, and they're talking about how the two things differ from each other, for the love of god don't try to fucking argue them about how that's not true when you could just. fuckign.

SHUT.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: A Team Fortress 2 fanfic banner in the style of the game's achievement icons. A tattered yellow-white ID card is shown on a gray background. On the left side of the card is a stylized portrait of Miss Pauling, and on the right of the card is a stylized globe. On the right of the banner is the chapter's title in yellow-white, reading "CHAPTER EIGHT: IDENTITY THEFT" /end ID]

Flickering

Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Rating: K+ Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship Characters: Spy, Pyro, Miss Pauling, Medic, Heavy, Scout, Sniper Warnings: General references to trauma Fic Description: After the events of the comics, the mercs try to go back to how things were, but it’s never that easy.

Spy can see his teammates going through their own struggles… but something seems to be very, very wrong with Pyro in particular.

And since no one else seems to be doing anything about this, Spy makes it his mission to get to the bottom of what is troubling Pyro. For no particular reason.

Beta Readers: @mechmolar, @gonturan0, @junuve

---~~~---

Chapter 8: Identity Theft Summary: In which Spy makes use of his disguise kit.

---~~~---

Once again, Spy found himself staying on-base overnight. The drive out to the bookstore and back had been quite enough time on the road for him, after the little sleep he'd gotten the night prior, so he opted to stay rather than make the trip back home.

Fortunately the Pyro had not attempted another absurd bonfire that night, so those who chose to stay were able to sleep as well as they could. Which, for some, was not as well as might be hoped.

Spy woke before sunrise to the sound of voices—Medic's was the first he could identify, calm and authoritative and mildly annoyed, while the second was Heavy's, a low, quiet rumble. While normally he would not bother eavesdropping at such an early hour, the smell of blood from his dreams lingered in his nostrils, and he could do with a brief distraction. So, slipping out of bed, he crept to the door and listened.

"...have spoken with Herr Engineer about this, and no, it is not possible."

"Da, I know this."

"Then you did not have to wake me up at four in the morning."

"I did not mean to wake Doctor up. Only to check."

"That will not be necessary. If I am ever in mortal danger again, I will be sure to let you know."

Silence. No footfalls followed.

Medic went on, lowering his voice. "If it makes you feel better, you're not alone. That schweinhund keeps showing up in my nightmares."

"This... does not make Heavy feel better. Would like to help."

"You can do that by letting me sleep." The Medic sighed. "Tell you what—I can train Archimedes to come get you if there is a problem. Would this make you feel better?"

"...Da. I think so."

"Good. I can also prescribe you something to help you sleep."

"Maybe. Will see." A pause. "Goodnight, Doctor."

"Yes, good night."

Finally Heavy moved away, while Medic shut his door.

Spy stood for a moment, wondering if he should ask Medic for some sleep medication as well, but shook his head. No, he just needed to sleep in his own bed again, is all.

Yawning, he trudged back to the other side of the room and slipped into bed.

Everything was fine. They would be over this soon.

—-

Upon entering the mess hall, Spy abruptly remembered the events of yesterday when he found it near devoid of chairs and with multiple of his fellow mercs standing about awkwardly. Sniper lurked in a corner, nursing what was surely not his first cup of coffee; Engineer leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, eating a plate of eggs and bacon; Demo knelt awkwardly next to one of the tables, leaning his head against it; and Soldier sat in the only chair, shoveling burnt pancakes into his face.

Sighing, Spy turned away—perhaps today would be a good day to rest at home.

"The chair problem's bein' corrected," Engineer said, and Spy looked back at him. "Miss Pauling said she'd come deliver them herself."

Spy raised an eyebrow. "Good to know, but strange she would make the delivery herself."

Engineer shrugged. "I don't question these things."

"I don't expect you to," Spy muttered as he stepped past him and into the kitchen. Perhaps it would be beneficial for him to stay around a little while longer, if it meant he could speak with another potential source.

Breakfast went by quickly enough, and he hoped it wouldn't be much longer before Miss Pauling arrived. He had no desire to hang around the other mercenaries for the time being, and retreated to his bedroom, cracking open the window so he could hear Miss Pauling's vehicle when she arrived. He'd grabbed his book from his smoking room, but upon entering his room, he found his gaze drawn to the mirror.

Spy set down his book on his table and stood before the mirror. In one swift motion he whipped out his cigarette case and opened it. His gaze fell not upon his cigarettes, but the disguise kit. A few quick taps and a puff of smoke, and he found himself staring at the Engineer.

"Yee-haw, I struggle to pay attention to anything that is not made of metal!" he said mockingly in the Engineer's voice.

Rolling his eyes—invisible beneath those stupid goggles—he tapped the disguise kit again a few more times. A puff of smoke later, he was adjusting Medic's glasses. "I give pointless diagnoses and extremely unhelpful advice, and my lab reeks like a badly-maintained zoo!"

Spy shook his head, glancing down at the disguise kit again and looking through a few more disguises.

He paused.

He could, of course, turn into dead people. It was part of his modus operandi in battle—killing one of his enemies and then disguising himself as them in order to either sneak around or kill more of the enemy team. But...

For a long moment he stared at the name on the device, and, after a brief hesitation, hit the confirmation button.

When the smoke cleared, he was staring at Beatrice, the pyro of the former gray team. The disguise included her mask, but he removed it in order to stare at that face he remembered seeing what felt like a lifetime ago—the gray hair, the burn-scarred face, the singular eye. Yet... no, she still didn't look quite right.

Spy thought for a moment, then replicated a calm, smug grin.

There she was.

He would not soon forget that smile, nor the way it had twisted her face in dark, eager excitement as she looked at the Pyro.

"I like a challenge."

Spy shuddered as he spoke the words in her voice.

Admittedly, he sometimes felt joy at seeing his own enemies in pain. He might occasionally twist the knife—quite literally—but for the most part, he just did his job.

That was not, he knew, the case for this woman. This woman, who, when charged to interrogate them, asked Soldier one question before continuing to torture him, very clearly must have taken pleasure—joy, even—in what she did.

So what had she done to Pyro?

Spy lowered his head in thought. Off the top of his head, he knew what could be done to hurt most of his fellow mercenaries. Soldier, who took joy in his own torture, would have taken a severe blow to being told that he was not a true member of the United States armed forces. Heavy valued his family, and would potentially bend under threats made toward them. Engineer would be pained to see his hard work destroyed—not merely his beloved buildings, but his blueprints, which allowed him to rebuild them. He could go on, but there was no point. He knew what could hurt the others.

He did not know what could hurt Pyro—what had hurt Pyro. What had drained its life of color. What had brought it down to the point where if it dared to make a noise, it would degenerate into a panicked mess.

Looking up, he stared into Beatrice's eye.

"What did you do?"

He arranged her face into the same smug grin he saw the day she tortured Pyro, the day she died. And again he repeated the words he remembered her saying:

"I like a challenge."

Realization hit him like a sniper's bullet, and the disguise faded in a puff of smoke, leaving Spy staring wide-eyed at his own reflection.

His chest began to burn, and he stumbled over to his chair. A cigarette soon found its way into his mouth, hoping to cloud his disturbed thoughts, but his hands searched for his lighter, only to come up empty.

A motor rumbling outside interrupted his dazed thoughts, and initially he wondered where Sniper was off to before he remembered. Jumping up from his chair, he looked out the window and spotted a truck pulling in front of the base, and a familiar purple dress on the person stepping out of said truck.

Drawing in a breath, Spy straightened his jacket and exited his room. Perhaps he could talk to Miss Pauling about this—she may know something that he didn't.

But as he neared the front of the base—

"—I mean, you didn't have to come all the way out here just to see me, Miss Pauling!"

"I didn't. I came out here to deliver this myself because I knew if we sent someone else, you guys would shoot the delivery driver. ...Again."

Scout and Sniper had met Miss Pauling at the door, the latter sizing up the furniture in the back of the truck, and the former flexing his arms at every opportunity.

Scout shrugged. "Well, while you're here—"

"While you're here," Miss Pauling countered, "why don't you help me haul this stuff in." As she was turning away, she added, "Hi, Spy."

Scout looked over his shoulder, only to do a double-take. "What's with you? You seen a ghost or somethin'?"

Abruptly Spy realized that he'd been staring, and that the blood had drained from his face. But Scout was already shrugging and stepping out the door, followed by Sniper, who gave Spy a knowing look as he left.

"Yeah," Scout was saying outside. "I don't blame you for wanting first row tickets to the gunshow!"

"Oh! I'm going there with Heavy in a couple weeks, actually."

Gritting his teeth, Spy stormed into the mess hall, and, from there, into the kitchen. While normally he wouldn't bother with such menial tasks here, he removed his jacket and slipped some rubber gloves over his usual ones and began to wash the dishes that had been left to pile up in the sink. It would get him out of their way, and give him something to do while he waited for Scout to stop bothering Miss Pauling.

The sound of chair legs shrieking against the floor soon let him know that they were replacing the chairs in the mess hall. Above that, he could hear Scout's attempts at flirting, which might have amused him had it not made him remember a more dazed version of Scout's voice cracking jokes, when—

"Hey—hey! Heavy! Since when are you goin' on a date with Miss Pauling?!"

"What is Scout talking about?"

Seizing his opportunity, Spy yanked off the rubber gloves and whipped his jacket back on before hurrying out to meet Miss Pauling. He skirted past the utterly stupid argument unfolding in the mess hall and rushed out the front door, where he caught Sniper and Pauling both hauling in a new chair for the lounge.

"Miss Pauling," Spy said, and she gave him a grunt of acknowledgment. "May I have a word?"

"Yeah, sure, just let me—"

Spy approached one of the free sides of the chair and helped lift it up, bearing some of its weight.

"Oh, thanks!" She gave him a relieved smile, and the three of them carried the chair through the base and into the lounge, where they set it down. Wiping her brow, she heaved a sigh. "Sheesh, Pyro did a number here, huh?"

"Yeah," Sniper said, leaning against the chair. "Like I said, you shoulda' seen that bonfire it made!" He gestured with his hand in an attempt to indicate the height.

"Actually," Spy cut in, "that's what I wanted to talk with you about."

Miss Pauling raised an eyebrow. "The bonfire?"

Spy gave a quick look around—he hadn't seen Pyro yet today, but he didn't want to take a chance that it was anywhere nearby. Frowning, he motioned for Miss Pauling to follow him outside.

"Is it the furniture?" she asked, bewildered, as she followed. "I'm sorry, Spy, but we can't afford stuff that's as nice as what you have in your smoking room for every—"

"It's not that," Spy said as they stepped out the front door again. He looked back to see the Sniper had followed them out, but there was no reason to send him away. "It's... about the Pyro."

"Pyro?" Miss Pauling echoed. "I mean, it's not that weird for it to be setting fires."

"No, it's been acting strange. More violent on the battlefield, and strangely silent. It... managed to communicate recently that it no longer sees color."

"Oh, man..." Miss Pauling's brows knit with sympathy, and she lowered her head for a moment, only for it to shoot back up. "Oh! Do you think this is from whatever the enemy pyro did to it?"

"That is exactly what I think." He automatically tried to take a drag from his cigarette, only to remember it wasn't lit to begin with. With a growl, he tossed it to the ground and stomped it. "While I have yet to figure out the specifics of what happened... I may have figured out at least one of the details."

Both Miss Pauling and Sniper leaned forward in interest.

"Pyro has been silent, but I do not think it wants to be. However, whenever it does vocalize, it falls into a panic."

Miss Pauling looked down in thought, frowning. Meanwhile, Sniper hummed, and Spy wondered if some gossip about the incident at Medic's lab had gone around.

"Furthermore," Spy went on, "the enemy pyro took an interest in our Pyro when that idiot Soldier let slip that it could not talk."

He let that sink in for a moment. Sniper's brow furrowed, while Miss Pauling's head suddenly shot up, her eyes wide.

"I believe," he said, eyes narrowed in disgust, "the enemy pyro may have punished it for saying anything other than the information she desired."

Sniper scoffed. "That's ridiculous. Pyro can't talk—not with normal words, anyway."

"Exactly my point. She—"

"She saw it as a challenge!" Miss Pauling exclaimed, her face going pale. "She wanted to see if she could force Pyro to talk!" She wrapped her arms around herself. "Poor Pyro..." After a moment, she straightened, jabbing her thumb at the truck behind her. "I mean, all this is still coming out of its paycheck, but still."

"Bloody wankers," Sniper growled. "But what'd they even do to it?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Spy said, and looked at Miss Pauling. Sniper followed his gaze.

"...Wait," he said, pointing at Miss Pauling. "You knew about my birth parents, and where I came from. You gotta know something about where that bloke came from, or what it even is."

Miss Pauling winced. "Look, the Administrator wouldn't even tell me about it, so I'm as much in the dark as you are. Heck, she only told me about your parents because they were a lead on the world's remaining Australium."

Gritting his teeth, Sniper turned away.

"Surely there must be something you know?" Spy asked.

"Yeah—a lot! Just nothing in particular about Pyro, other than that it's not human." She rubbed her forehead. "Look—Medic might know something—"

"His knowledge is limited, as Pyro does not cooperate with examinations. What little he does know is classified."

"Ah, right. Just between him and the Administrator, huh?" Heaving a sigh, she tipped her head back. "Look, Spy... I'd really like to help you—or help Pyro, anyway—but I'm not sure what I can do."

"Well, Miss Pauling, given your unique position, I think there might be something you could do to retrieve the information I need. Even just to persuade the Administrator to—"

Miss Pauling gave a forced, humorless laugh. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen. Sorry." When Spy gave her a look, she softened. "No, seriously, I am sorry. But with how badly everything went with that last mission, I—" She cut herself off, and swallowed.

Spy looked at her for a moment, and she looked back, and he nodded slowly. "I understand."

"Thanks," she replied, her shoulders drooping. "I hope Pyro will be okay. It's nice of you to look out for it."

Spy shrugged. "It was merely a mission I gave myself, since no one else was looking into it."

Feeling the hair rise on the back of his neck, he knew Sniper was staring at him—for what reason, he didn't know, but he would not look back.

"Great!" Miss Pauling smiled, oblivious to the tension between the two mercenaries. "Sniper, could you help me get the last one?"

"Sure thing, mate." The Sniper followed Miss Pauling over to the back of the truck, but as he passed, gave Spy another look—one that seemed to say, we need to talk.

Absolutely not.

Frowning in thought, Spy hurried back into the base, heading down a few hallways until he neared the medical wing. There he stopped, looking around to make sure there was no one else around. There was no sign of anyone else heading this way, and, creeping up to the doors and listening, he could only hear Medic's voice speaking softly to Archimedes.

Casting one last look to assure himself he was alone, Spy whipped out his disguise kit.

A moment later, Miss Pauling burst into the lab. "Medic—? Oh, good, you're here."

Medic looked up, his eyebrows raised, while Archimedes fluttered up to the ceiling and Aristotle squeaked. "Ah, Miss Pauling! Good to see you!" the Medic said, smiling as he strolled up to meet her. "Finally come for your follow-up appointment? I've almost got the blood type separation technique worked out—"

"Uh, no, not today. I'm in a bit of a time crunch—since we set up office again, the Administrator realized she's missing some of the mercenaries' medical files, and I haven't had the chance to come out here until now."

Medic sighed. "Very well," he said, turning toward his filing cabinet. "Which ones did you need?"

"Just Scout, Soldier, and Pyro," she replied.

"Oh, you're in luck! I just updated Pyro's file recently."

"Yeah, great." Distractedly Miss Pauling looked around the lab, her eyes falling on Aristotle's, which were narrowed at her suspiciously. "Oh, uh, is... that the monkey you got from—never mind."

"Ja, he is!" Medic smiled as he went through the folders. "Say hello to the lady, Aristotle."

Aristotle hissed and scampered up to Medic's side.

"Now, now, that's no way to behave around patients like Miss Pauling!" Turning around, Medic wagged a finger at the baboon. "Only the bad patients. Now!" He held up the papers and looked up at Miss Pauling. "I'll make some copies of these and send you on your way. Stay here."

Miss Pauling held out a hand to protest, but Medic was already hurrying out the door. She watched him leave before turning back to Aristotle, who continued to glare at her. Then, in a deep, masculine voice that was not Miss Pauling's, she said, "What are you staring at?"

Shrieking, Aristotle scampered up on top of the filing cabinet and hid behind a pigeon nest.

Sighing, Miss Pauling crossed her arms, looking around the lab as she waited. Hearing the door open, she spun around. "Thanks, Medi—" The word caught in her throat.

Sniper stared at her from the doorway, holding out the copies of the medical records. "Looking for these, ya bloody wanker?"

"Uh, hi, Sniper!" She gave a nervous grin. "What are you doing here?"

"Dragging you out before Medic gets back." With that, he grabbed Miss Pauling's wrist and yanked her toward the doors.

"Sniper, what—?!"

His head whipped back to look at her. "Medic nearly chased the real Miss Pauling out the door to hand her these. I offered to run them out to her myself." He rushed her out the med bay doors and further down the hall, taking a couple turns before he slowed.

Meanwhile, Spy's disguise faded as he yanked his sleeve away from Sniper's hand. "I hope you've been washing your hands," he grumbled, dusting his sleeve off.

"You're welcome." Sniper stopped, and turned to face him.

"Now..." Spy reached for the papers. "Hand them over, bushman."

Sniper held the papers further away. "Tell me what this is about first."

Spy glared. "You already know what this is about."

"Oh, I do. It's you I'm not so sure about."

Rolling his eyes, Spy made another grab for the papers, only for Sniper to hold them away again. "You heard what I told Miss Pauling. I'm on a mission to find out what's happened to Pyro, and you are currently withholding vital intelligence for said mission."

"Yeah, you keep tellin' yourself that," Sniper said, his voice low.

"What are you talking about?"

Sniper leaned in closer, and Spy leaned back. "Funny, ain't it, how the one you decide to buddy up with is the one who can't talk back. Can't ask you what's wrong, or what you're running away from."

Anger bolted down Spy's spine. "Are you accusing me of being a coward? You're the one who hides in one place for an entire match!"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about, Spy." Even with his sunglasses, it was clear that Sniper was glaring at him. "Don't you. Or d'you have it buried so deep you don't even remember what you're buryin' anymore?"

"Stop talking nonsense and give me the papers!" Spy growled, making another swipe for them.

This time, Sniper let him snatch the papers, and leaned back. "...You really don't know, do you?"

Quickly he folded the papers and shoved them into his inner coat pocket before they could be grabbed away again. "What?"

Sniper went quiet for a long moment, before shrugging and turning away. "Nothing. Guess maybe you'll have to dig it up on your own."

Spy glared after him, but he was already heading away. He wasn't going to be digging anything, thank you—not in his suit, anyway. Instinctively he dusted off his sleeve again and hurried back up to his room, where he hopefully wouldn't be bothered any further.

Once safely in his room, Spy whipped the papers out of his pocket, unfolded them, and sat at his desk to read them over. For a moment he was confused at Soldier's papers being at the top before he recalled he'd asked for three of the mercs' medical records to avoid suspicion. He set the pages aside, and his eyes brightened at seeing the Pyro's class logo printed on one of the pages. He'd read this one before, when he'd first sneaked into Medic's lab, but now he had free access to all the information he needed. Setting aside the first page, he looked at the second.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the large text, reading:

DO NOT attempt to clean skin!!

Brows furrowed, he skimmed some of the writing after that, but there was no further information written on this point. Of course, he should have expected that—these were mainly for the Medic's reference, after all. Still, the other notes might prove useful. There was a recent date written, followed by more information:

Patient has submitted to a partial physical! Can be bribed with candy.

However, patient strongly resisted blood pressure and thyroid tests, likely due to recent trauma/shellshock. (Will try again later.)

"Goggles" seem to be a form of eyelid. Dense transparent lenses protect eyes beneath. Seems to be incapable of blinking.

Spy paused for a moment, and shuddered.

Heart rate elevated, though may or may not be due to anxiety. Normal heart rate unknown. More examination is necessary!

The notes on that page ended there, and Spy nearly crumpled them in frustration. Instead, he read them over again, his eyes drawn to the larger text once more. The previous page had noted the layer of soot coating Pyro's body, which Spy had witnessed himself. Could the soot be a protective layer? Or, perhaps, attempting to wash Pyro's skin resulted in injuring whatever poor sap attempted it. It did have a higher body temperature than normal—warm enough to burn someone, perhaps?

There was something there, he was sure. But what, he didn't know.

Sighing, he set the page aside, only to realize there was more beneath it.

Name: Jeremy—

Spy knocked a vial of ink over the papers, by complete accident and nothing more.

Some time later, he exited his room, and nearly bumped into the Pyro. Before he could stop himself, he held out the crumpled, ink-stained papers. "Here," he said. "Take these and burn them."

Pyro perked up and took the papers, but stared back at Spy, tilting its head.

Spy snorted. "How often does anyone give you kindling?"

Pyro stared at him a moment longer before turning back into its room, fishing its lighter out as it went. Spy watched it go, until it shut the door behind itself. With another sigh, he made his way down the stairs, only to stomp his foot on one of the steps.

That was his lighter!

[rainbow-wolf120]

MORE ABOUT VIVEO ALL ABOUT VIVEO TELL US MORE NEOWWWW !!! GO ON THE LONGEST RAMBLE YOU’VE EVER RAMBLED !!!!! 🔫

Ohohoho. You’re in for a real treat asker >:]

Okay, since I have so much about the TV twink, I decided to lore dump about Viveo and Rayman’s relationship. More importantly…

In College!!

Yes. And they were roommates

Me lore dumping under cut. I know not everyone cares for my OCs or ideas lol:

So, the story is that when Rayman first migrated into America, he was struggling to settle down. People didn’t like him and never really gave him the chance for… anything really.

Then, he heard about this one college (I don’t have a name for it atm), but it was very big on being “accepting to both humans and hybrids”. This was super rare for a college in what? 1950s?? 60s???

Whatever, it was a chance for Rayman.

Sadly, college was nothing like the advertisements, cause when he arrived, he was very much bullied into the ground. Turns out the college may be accepting but the students were not.

However, he wasn’t alone.

This leads into Viveo.

Viveo was harassed, yes, but not as much as Rayman. He is technically an “alien”, but he’s “human” enough to spare a beating.

Also, he’s buff

I do make jokes about Viveo being a twink, and he is. But he has jumpscare muscles. Like, when he flexes you can tell he works out.

(This is a reference to him being based off a JD coach and that burns calories and stuff idk it makes me feel buff </3)

The two met when Rayman was getting bullied. He would’ve fought back, but when last time he did he got in really big trouble because he broke someone's nose and the school sided with the bullies cause like, this is still the 1950s.

Viveo stepped in and scared them away with his tall frame and jacked body. Maybe a bit of psychological manipulation to get the point across.

(I may draw a comic about this, depends on how much y’all like them lol)

That’s how they officially met. Viveo may have heard of Rayman through rumors and drama (cause he’s a sucker for that), and Rayman heard of Viveo through reputation.

It turns out that they shared the same room! They were roommates yay 👏

They both pursued entertainment, so they shared a lot of the same classes which only made their bond stronger.

When Rayman is not trying to get a gig or in class, he takes a job at the college as a desk assistant and soon a CA (the people who patrol the dorms and tell people to shut up). Although it was only late at night, it was the only thing hiring.

Rayman doesn’t really know what Viveo does when he’s not partying, so he lets him stick around until he’s free again.

Although Viveo technically shouldn’t be there when he's on the job, let alone talking to him, it’s the only way people would actually go up and ask Rayman for assistance (even if they only talk to Viveo)

Also, it gives Viv something to do

Rayman doesn’t want to get fired, so when a boss or something comes along, Viveo acts like he’s there for help. Gotta use that acting class for something

As you know, Viveo is popular among the campus, and that popularity comes parties.

He’s a riot at these things. He’s fun, entertaining, and can sing really really good

Viveo is invited to all the dorm parties, but Rayman is not

Since Rayman is a CA, he technically works for the college and is able to rat people out

And partying is forbidden at this one

Even if Rayman is invited, he’s seen as a “stick-in-the-mud”. He tries his hardest to be “fun”, but he’s a bit too "good" to do anything crazy (unless Viveo nudges him too)

So, when Ray works, Viv parties.

(I know it’s a modern phone. If they had flying cars and fully interactive holograms in 1992, I’m sure this is likely)

Viveo is still lowkey selfish, but if he likes you, he’s a bit more lenient.

Being best friends and dormmates with basically one of the security guards, it gives Viveo a lot of power if you think about it

When he gets bored or tired of a party, he hits up Rayman to shut it down so he can leave with a "bang"

Is it unnecessary? Yes. Is it fun to see everyone’s night get ruined because you thought it was boring? A little.

It’s a benefit for them both, though

Rayman gets praised by his boss and coworkers (mostly his bosses), while Viveo gets to party with little to no consequences

Power couple at it finest

When Eden eventually becomes sort of a big name, Rayman takes Viveo with him to his job application as moral support. Viveo stands in the back supporting him, spicing his performance with sound effects, and helping him remember his lines if he slips up (Perks of a TV face)

Rayman does get the job, and he’s super pumped to tell Viv about it (Keep in mind that this is like, senior year of college). Viveo is obviously happy for him, but also a tad bit jealous.

Y’know, until Rayman drags him along.

In Rayman’s mind, he’s nothing without Viveo and vice versa. It’s a little different for Viveo, but that’s not important.

At the end of the day, Rayman gets himself a place as “Eden’s mascot”, and Viveo’s given a place of “Eden’s voice” per Rayman's request. Two aliens against the world.

That’s enough of me yapping, I don’t know who even bothered to read this far. If you did, thank you. You either really like Viveo, or have nothing better to do.

I might do more lore-dumping. This was fun. But it depends if people want to sit down and listen

Thank you for coming to my Gay Talk, hope to see you next time <3

[stra-tek]

The TV shows and movies: Everyone has seen them, they're the canon, everyone knows about it, it's all good. Even the stuff that contradicts the other stuff. Even the episodes and movies everyone hates.

The novels and comics: 2% of the viewing audience have read them. They probably happened between episodes, but they're never ever referred to on TV (except that ONE time on Voyager). Vetted thoroughly (well, since Killing Time at least) and approved by people involved in the show prior to publishing.

The fanfic: These adventures are so numerous and secret, not even the people involved in the show knows about them (erm... with the exceptions of Spirk and Garashir, which have been referenced in Lower Decks and the Lower Decks mobile game. And Ni'Var being named for a poem in an ancient fanfic. And T'Khut. And possibly Una but maybe that's coincidence because after all Una = One). Literally anything can and does happen. Did they happen? Who knows? Who cares? They sometimes get to have sex. Gay sex.

The fan films: Non-canon adventures where the uniforms don't fit so well, sometimes featuring some of the actual Trek actors so not very secret at all. Probably happened in alternate universes with inferior Starfleet tailoring.

The fan manuals: Often more detailed and thoroughly researched than the official ones. Deck by deck plans of starships, instructions on what buttons do what on the bridge and extremely exhaustive backstories for starships only mentioned in passing in official technical books. The people in charge know they exist and shut loads down in the 90's for trying to make money off the Star Trek name. Did they all happen? So long as you don't try to actually compare walking routes on the shows to the floorplans of the Enterprise.

The fan art: At a con Mark Leonard (Sarek) once saw a naughty 'zine illo of naked, chained up Spock. Denise Crosby has been sent Data/Tasha naughty art. People involved in the shows sometimes see it, and are often bewildered by it. Oh, and IDW kept accidently tracing fan art of starships in their comic books because I think they just use Google image search. Did they happen? Yes. Especially the naughty ones.

The A.I. art: endless shitposts of your favourite characters doing anything your caffeine addled, sleep-deprived brain can come up with. Spock taking down the Christmas tree? Kirk cleaning the gutter? Picard having a replicator/soup catastrophe? Riker defeating John Cena at Wrestlemania? Janeway making ends meet by posing for naughty magazines in her Academy days? The people involved in the shows probably actively wish it didn't exist (at least until they find a way to monetise it). Did they happen? Well it's kinda like that time Barclay made out with a holographic copy of Troi...

[bingoboingobongo]

hi there! i love your work! i have a request for a cod fic💕💕

so i actually just learned there is ONE(1) all-female spec ops team in the world, and it's norway's jegertroppen("hunter troop"), so maybe how the 141(plus alejandro, rudy and könig) would react to meeting the leader of (or being in a relationship with) jegertroppen who is a no-nonsense, absolute bamf who can, in no uncertain terms, take care of herself

again, love your work and thank you for reading my random 2 am thoughts💕💕💕

task force 141 + bamf!reader

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, König, Valeria Garza

Warnings: explicit language, reader is referred to as a woman/girl

A/N: yes i realize like half of these ppl aren't part of tf141 hush. also this is why i love u guys bc i would've never learned about this w/o u anon. also srry these are short we have a lot of characters and not a lot of time

simon "ghost" riley:

alright so when ghost first met you he's pretty impressed ngl

like he knows how hard it is to be in special ops and he can only imagine how hard it is when you're a girl

like task force 141 is all men and most, if not all, of the people he works with on a daily basis are men

so yeah he has a lot of respect for you for making it to your position

he also has a lot of respect for your entire crew and he honestly really supports the idea of an all female special ops group

off topic but in the comics we see simon go through an attempted brainwashing (really pared down explanation sorry) where roba essentially tries to make him like a misogynist/rapist which obviously simon is disgusted by so yes simon is canonically a feminist

he's also in love with your strict no-nonsense style of work because it aligns really well with his

together you're pretty much unstoppable

literally the definition of a power couple

john "soap" mactavish:

alright so soap is honestly wowed the first time he meets you (and a little lovestruck too)

what can i say women in charge do things to him

he's definitely sorta intimidated by you at first though

idk it's like imagine ghostsoap but ghost is you

like he's always trying to fool around with you which maybe you tend to shut down

but honestly he doesn't mind and sometimes he'll keep going just to get a rise out of you/hear you talk

idk man he honestly just has so much respect for you

like if he could he would stop in the middle of an active warzone just to watch you work

also if you guys are dating he takes every chance possible to brag about you to anyone who'll listen

he just thinks you deserve a lot more recognition than you get

kyle "gaz" garrick:

alright so the first time gaz meets you he's honestly a little shocked

it sucks but women are a pretty rare sight to see especially in his level/field of work so an all female special ops team is like finding a needle in a haystack

that being said he has nothing but respect for you and what you do

he knows how bigoted people in the military can be and so he's glad to see that you've found a space for yourself where you're relatively unbothered by it

also it makes him happy to see more gender representation because it reminds him of his younger siblings and it makes him happy that they can have someone to look up to

like soap he also really likes watching you work

and when he's not fighting or falling out of helicopters he likes to just spend his time with you or watching you train or do menial tasks

maybe he's just too in love with you but you can make doing the dishes seem badass

john price:

alright so like pretty much everyone else here when price first met you the only thing in his mind was respect

he's read up on you and he knows a lot about your work and honestly he just really admires you

he's a leader and so he knows how tough it can be to have that job

plus to do that while being a woman in a male dominated space

yeah that earns you major points in his book

honestly he's hesitant to make a move because he doesn't want to feel like he's disrespecting you by initiating something romantic

but like you're literally such a badass motherfucker he really can't help but catch feelings

plus you're literally stunning so that's not helping the growing crush he has either

he loves to work alongside you whenever he can because you're literally inspiring on the field

plus he knows he doesn't have to worry about you or your forces which takes a lot of stress off his shoulders

alejandro vargas:

okie so like price alejandro really really respects you

again he's also a leader and he knows how taxing that can be which is why he respects you so much for it

i mean alejandro has a history with bamf women (valeria) so it's no surprise he falls for you too

idk man seeing a woman who can take care of herself just gets alejandro going

honestly you kind of remind alejandro of valeria but like in a good way

like not a "he can't get over his ex" kind of way but like a "damn he definitely has a type and his type is hot, badass women who really don't need a man but hopefully will date him despite it" kind of way

he'll also make sure that all of his forces treat you and your troops with the respect you deserve because he's not about to let you guys deal with that on his watch

that being said whenever someone is being a hassle he knows you can handle it yourself

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

alright so when rudy first meets you it's sorta like a mix between awe and also nervousness

like on one hand he's like "omg this woman is literally like the definition of badass motherfucker"

and on the other hand he's like "omg this woman is so pretty i hope she picks me omg can she tell im nervous gahdhshs"

you make his heart flutter what can i say

he's definitely a lot more shy asking you out than he might be with someone else

but that's because he really respects you and he doesn't want to come off as rude or disrespectful if he's too assertive

that being said when you do let him know you reciprocate his feelings he is over the fucking moon

he just can't believe that someone as independent and no-nonsense as you would choose to be in a relationship with him

like soap he will always find an opportunity to brag about you

and honestly he'll compliment you like there's no tomorrow

idk man he's just crazy about you like he respects you so much and so it's mind-blowing to him that you actually picked him

könig:

okay quick disclaimer but i've never written for könig so umm yeah

anyways könig is definitely really really impressed when he first meets you

you definitely make him nervous just because you're really good looking but he'll still talk/engage with you

even though it can be pretty nerve-wracking for him because of his social anxiety he'll suck it up because ultimately the anxiety of wrongly being perceived as a misogynist/sexist who won't talk to women is worse

but he's definitely a lot shyer and less inclined to talk to you outside of work

even though he really wants to

that being said if he's given enough time he will open up eventually

and even though you're no-nonsense you're more than happy to take things slow with him to make him feel comfortable

which honestly just makes him fall in love with you more

i mean i feel like this is obvious but you're definitely the "he asked for no pickles" couple

with you being the one saying it ofc and him being the one asking for no pickles

valeria garza:

ughh valeria is sooo hyped to see you oml

um don't ask how it works out with her being el sin nombre and you technically being in the military

love finds a way okay

anyways as a woman in a male dominated space herself it is so refreshing to not only see you, but to see your whole troop

honestly valeria definitely wishes she could have been a part of it

and tbh if she wasn't el sin nombre i could definitely see her considering joining

like in a way it kind of makes her sad because she knows how different her life would be if she had a group like this in mexico

also im just know realizing the connection to artemis' huntresses (is that what it's called?)

anyways valeria is not shy about flirting with you

like you tick all of her boxes

you're hot, you're a natural leader, you're more than capable of taking care of yourself

win win win

and if you let her she will treat you like a god damn queen

and also she absolutely loves seeing you work if she could she would just perch on some treetop with a pair of binoculars and watch you while you work

i realize that sounds creepy but um it's not

[honey-milk-depresso]

19 Reasons (Tim Drake x Reader)

It’s Tim’s birthday in my timezone, so I’m writing my first ever DC Comic post- yes- fiNALLY-

Summary: You said you wished your turning 19 year old Tim “Happy Womb Escape” by presenting a slideshow titled “19 reasons why I love Tim Drake.”

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

“Guess what day it is?”

“19 July?” He didn’t even bat an eye, busy typing away on his computer without a care in the world.

“Seriously? Okay stop working,” you closed his laptop and shove it away to a corner, “you literally forget it’s your birthday today?”

He looks at you nonchalantly before crossing his arms with an eyebrow raised. “Well, it’s not that important?”

You gasped in horror, dramatically rolling up to his chest with your hand pressed to your forehead and the other clutching your heart. “ ‘Not important’? My own boyfriend saying his birthday is ‘not important’? Non!”

He rolled his eyes, playfully and lightly shoving you away as he smirked. You grinned.

“I’m going to show you why it’s important with this slideshow!” You placed your own laptop on his lap, the monitor flashing a slideshow titled “19 Reasons Why I Love Tim Drake”.

“Oh god. This is gonna be fun,” he joked.

“Before that, I would just like to say,” you started, clicking to the next slide, “ ‘Happy Womb Escape’ to you, Drake.”

“Wait wha-”

“Now first reason!” You clicked to the next slide, cutting your baffled vigilante as you cleared your throat to perform your lines.

“Number one! He’s Red Robin, Gotham’s best vigilante out there! Ain’t I ever seen another like him!”

“There’s Bruce, Dick, Jason, Cass, Steph, Lu-”

“STOP- THERE IS NO ONE LIKE YOU!” You groaned in frustration, making Tim chuckle. “Yeah but I’m basically just like them.”

“I ain’t see someone who single-handedly took down the Joker? Obeah Man? Got rid of the booty shorts of Robin? That’s a crime, by the way.” You said it in a “matter-of-fact” way. He snorted.

“Secondly! He’s the most hardworking man I know! But also he needs rest so take notes. Third! He’s the biggest, dorkiest dork on earth who loves machines, science, and he googles the most random things on the internet just to give me a fun fact later on out of the blue!”

“Fourth! His hair is fluffy as hell and it makes him very nice to pat on the head! Fifth! He’s a nerd! And that’s cute! Sixth, Tim is the smartest man I’ve ever met. I bet he could find the last digit of Pi in like 2 seconds in his brain. Seventh!”

Tim smiled warmly, soon becoming smug the more you went on with your points. He looked so proud.

“Seventh, is that he’s a bisexual icon! Enough said. Eighth! He lends me his sweaters and they all smell like him which is the nice part.”

“You stole them, you mean?”

“Shhhh, let the presenter speak. Anyways, ninth! Timmy bringing me to a burger joint on our first date and he didn’t judge me for it. I’ll tell you something I didn’t until now: I was pretty scared you judged me but you didn’t. So thank god.”

“I always judge you, Y/N, it’s alright,” Tim smirked. You looked at him with a frown, not amused. “Yeah, okay never mind, I should take this slide down.”

“Hey!” He said, grinning as wide as you were. “Next! Tenth! He watches over me even when he’s on patrol to make sure I’m safe!”

“You… know? I thought I was pretty well hidden…” he blinked in surprise.

“Tim, you may be a detective and that’s exactly the point. It doesn’t take some of your skills to rub off of me,” again, you said it as a matter-of-fact.

“Eleventh! He’s a skater boy, and he’s my ‘Skater Boi’,” Tim once again snorted, much louder upon understanding that pop culture reference.

“Twelfth, he loves watching old, 80s to 90s cheesy movies and geeks out about them all the time while we’re watching! Don’t ever shut up, by the way. Thirteenth! He always fidgets with his fingers and hands when he’s bored subconsciously! That in itself is adorable.”

“Fourteenth! He’s a terrible cook, but he still tries anyways. It’s also adorable~” He rolled his eyes, folding his arms.

“Wow, I feel so loved.”

“Yesh, and I love you very much as well, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne,” you teased. He scoffed lightly. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Fifteenth! He is the best cross-dresser. That is all. Sixteenth! HE IS THE WORLD’S GREATEST DETECTIVE! Like he found Waldo every 2 seconds, finished 5 books of him in 1 minute,” you said, doing an amateur explosion side effect by saying “kaploosh” with your hands doing the mind-blown action.

“Again, Bruce and everyone else in my family.”

“Again, there is no one like you, Detective Tim. Seventeenth! Best photographer! Also enough said! Love everything you take, sweetie! Eighteenth! He makes using a metal stick look badass!”

“And lastly! Nineteenth! Drum roll please!” You use your knuckles to lightly drum against the wooden floors. “He’s Tim Drake! What’s not to love?” You smiled. It was so contagious that he found himself smiling as stupid and gleefully as you did.

He had always been insecure of his abilities and himself in general, so he was so flustered and gooey on the inside with how genuine you were with each point. Although, his flustered-ness was showing with pink blooming on his cheeks.

“Okay, guess I understand why my birthday’s important now.”

“Glad you understood my report, Mr Drake!” You smiled at him.

“So now I shall say,” you drum-rolled again, quickly tossing your arms around him and lightly pecked his cheek with a grin.

“I love you, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne.”

He smiled at you lovingly, cupping your cheek as he gently brushed his thumb against it. “And I love you, too, YF/N L/N. Thanks for your birthday gift.”

You laughed sweetly. “The gift is you, technically~”

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

Reblogs help! ^^

[samd1o1]

Hey I don’t want to comment for real bc I’m sick of arguing with people on tumblr

I just wanted to say that in that post about deadpool and wolverine’s queerness, you are like 1000% in the right. Normally I don’t feel this strongly about stuff but anyone who thinks that Disney seriously and earnestly “delivered” on deadpool (and wolverine?) being queer is delusional

I mean, I love the movie. I’ve seen it twice and giggled my way through it both times. Obviously I enjoy the queer aspect of their relationship. But what you said about being able to be critical of your favorite media is important. The fact that people are arguing that there are no issues with the gay jokes in d&w but ACTUALLY it’s all indicative of a genuinely made film about two queer men is like actually SO crazy

Thank you, yes! The movie is absolutely amazing in the fact it's funny and well written. And yes I like the gay jokes, they're cheeky and enjoyable. But I think they'd be more enjoyable if any amount of Wade's (and also Logan's) queerness was taken seriously. Even just a little seriously.

I think the part that annoyed me about the movie most was Wade breaking up with Vanessa. Yeah it works for the movie and his character development. But at the same time I can't help but assume the reasoning for it was so queer people could go "hey they're both single, maybe just maybe Deadpool and Wolverine will get together?" No they won't this is Disney. He'll probably be back together with Vanessa eventually (even if it's not immediately).

Like I said on the comments of the post you're referring to; saying this is good queer rep is just an excuse so Disney (and Marvel) doesn't have to actually try to make good representation. The MCU has had many issues like this before. The single Loki bisexual conversation only for them to chicken out on the mlm ship they were hinting at in S2 promotions. Loki also being labeled as genderfluid in promo stuff just for him to be referred to as a male Loki and such. Characters who are canonically bisexual in the comics like Starlord showing absolutely zero hints to their queerness. Eternals is the only real representation I can think of, but it felt very one note and boring. Like that whole movie.

In conclusion Deadpool is a great movie but my biggest gripe is just that the queer aspect is not taking seriously. As much as I love the Honda Odyssey scene, it would be cool if it wasn't just a weird mix of coding/bait. Queer coding is still a great writing tool. Using metaphors for queerness in fantasy can be fun. But the reason queer coding existed in the first place is because you weren't allowed to show any queer people on screen. But times have changed! You can show it, but Disney are cowards. The movie is also queerbaity as they set up things like Vanessa's break up only to start them almost back up again with Logan himself telling Wade to go for the girl. Not to mention all the promotional posters like Deadpool and Wolverine as Beauty And The Beast. Disneyland Deadpool is also being VERY heavy on the gay jokes, which makes me feel like they KNOW who their main target audience was gonna be with this movie, but they still need to cater to the movie dudebros as well. Maybe one day guys, maybe.

It's important to be critical of even your favorite media. If you weren't then it could never improve. Let your voices be heard! And to the people who think movies don't deserve such debate; why do you think that? So many people say that so they don't have to discuss representation in media but then turn around and rant about the comic accuracy. Also what do you think happens in a writers room? Criticism is important in media even to professionals. A movie is a group effort, many people had different ideas that eventually came together and made Deadpool 3. They also probably had many ideas that were shut down and not put in Deadpool 3 for various reasons. Some most likely being criticisms.

Ok I'm done ranting now. Deadpool 3, great movie, one of my favorites. But it would have benefited not only itself by being true to Wade and Logan letting them be their authentic queer selves; But it also would have benefited the queer community.

[aroacebrucewayne]

when I grow up, I want to be nothing at all

CHAPTER 1.

summary: ‘Bruce hasn’t looked at himself properly in the mirror for months.’ {batman? more like notman.}

a/n: 1. character referred to w he/him pronouns for a while because she doesn’t realise she’s transfem. She’s also Misgendered because the batfam doesn’t know yet. 2. I haven’t read any comics except for the first one w/ penguin in it!! All my knowledge is from other fanfics!! Do not come at me for not knowing lore please!!! 3. Story title is from “the end” by mcr because I’m cliche trash. 4. yes, I know Dick lives a city over. Why he’s randomly returning to Gotham on this day is unknown to me. But I have gone on overnight trips to visit my grandparents in the past and they live in another city too, so I guess it’s fine. Maybe he missed his family :) [also if you’re wondering where everyone else is/what their roles may be: patience. I’ll add to this au soon hopefully!]

5. Enjoy! Idk when I’ll be writing more for this but uh. Yeah. Have fun :)

Bruce hasn’t looked at himself properly in the mirror for months. He figures that it’s the scars crossing his body, riddling his torso and limbs with a map of his past victories and losses. Sure, he looks at his face to shave and occasionally cut his hair, but that’s about it. He’s still pondering this when he his phone chimes sharply.

Tim: hi bruce. dickhead coming for dinner 2day

The text, short and to the point, only reminds him to hurry up with his dressing. The batcave, while cool, isn’t an “acceptable substitute for fresh air and human interaction, Master Bruce.” So he swiftly pulls on a sweatshirt and pants, and goes back upstairs to wash the dirt, grime and facepaint off his face.

The bathroom tile he rests his forehead against is cool against his flushed skin, offering slight reprieve from the steady pounding in his skull. Bruce forces himself to look up at the mirror. Heavy dark circles, downturned mouth, and tired eyes stare back at him, and he trudges out into his bedroom.

The room isn’t really messy, he’s never allowed it to be. But there is a jacket flung over his full-length mirror, and a chair shoved in front of it, and both of them obstruct the full view of himself. He pushes the chair aside and grabs the jacket, convincing himself with some difficulty to look at himself fully and truly.

He looks normal. Maybe a little beaten down and weary, but otherwise he looks like a normal, regular, alright guy. The moment the thought manifests in his mind, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ward off the feeling of WRONGWRONGWRONG thrumming under his skin.

Fuck. Fuck. Maybe there is something wrong with him, something twisted. Self hatred is nothing new to him, but this feels different. More painful. He takes one more look at the mirror - Face your fears - and leaves the room, jacket tossed to the floor. He can’t waste time thinking about himself: Dick’s coming for dinner, Tim and Damian are coming home from school soon, and the sky is clear and cloudless. It’s a beautiful day, and Bruce has spent most of it in the cave, burning case details into his mind.

The thought makes his headache spike up again, and he casts his mind to other things. Chiefly, the sound of voices coming from the dining room. Tim and Damian are sitting at the table, eating sandwiches, while Tim chatters excitedly about his day to Alfred.

Bruce steels himself for a moment before he enters with a smile, jumping into the conversation with ease. All his worries and anxiety melts into the background, his chief attention being on this sliver of his family, here and now. His mind hones into the present, and he drops his earlier train of thought with ease.

He can always figure that thing out later.