#and got major brainworms about it

[5qui99l3draws]

"warmup" doodle that ended up being my only drawing last night, you know how it is

[qqueenofhades]

I really really REALLY need to see more people makimg the connection between trump and his russian handlers tbh.......like i know we've somehow gone through the looking glass of putin apologia but that piece abt the NYT you just posted, the bots, the interference: in the bag for trump? Yes. But i dont believe its due to his or even republican power or popularity or forcefulness.......this is a man with so much debt and kompromat thats only getting worse!! Not to sound kwazy BUT WE ARE BEING FULLY INFLITRATED and at the risk of conspiracizing i think the russians are ALSO behind the Times's demise along with so many other information centers etc. Like i KNOW these leftists love him but like. Wouldnt they care a LITTLE abt being manipulated like this???

Trump is 100% an active, willing, and eager Russian agent. That's not even paranoid conspiracy theory, that's just the only reasonable interpretation of the facts:

NOT TO MENTION that in the next two years after the Helsinki conference where Trump kowtowed to Putin in every way, the CIA admitted to losing huge and unusually high numbers of classified informants around the world (not CIA agents, but people secretly working for the American government in often-hostile countries):

Once again, this all happened when Trump was in office, when he was actively handing over CIA intel to the Kremlin against the wishes of the entire national security establishment, and which other experts have suggested was directly as a result of Trump handing over the identities of American informants to Russia, including those stationed in Russia itself:

Now, I could go on, but you get the point. Not to mention that Trump just lost a major UK-based lawsuit against Christopher Steele, the former MI6 agent who was the first to provide documents linking Trump to Russia in the controversial "Steele dossier":

And now: Trump is deeply in hock for hundreds of millions in legal fees and punitive judgments that are only increasing by the day, he somehow just came up with $90 million to appeal the judgment against E. Jean Carroll (nobody knows where he got this money either), and Russian state TV spends all their time openly salivating for Trump's return to the presidency (so he can hand over Ukraine and the rest of NATO and, as he literally said, "let Russia do whatever the hell they want.") I know we're largely numb to all the awful treasonous shit that Trump does, but like. This isn't a conspiracy theory, this is just what's going on in plain sight, and while the Online Leftists have recently become so stupid that I honestly can't tell if it's just terminal brainworms or active Russian psyops, it's strongly indicated that it is in fact a mix of both:

So, like. Just some food for thought.

[heavenbarnes]

Hiii, I just devoured your older bf!simon posts and I got this one brainworm

So, he hasn't figured out how to make albums yet in his gallery, the first time he passed his phone around to let his team gawk at your photos, he had accidentally left one of HIS photo

Imagine the team scrolling through his gallery, drooling at your photo in skimpy outfits, various state of undress then BAM, the hottest dickpic of their L.t. appeared on screen (courtesy of your instructions ofc)

I just think it'll be A Thing™, like, obviously they know Ghost is hot, probably also know how big his dick is, but seeing it presented like that? Some of them definitely moaned. And I bet Simon noticed, probably will start leaving a few of his own photos in between yours, as a treat for the boys.

(Feel free to ignore this if this isn't sth you're comfortable with 🫶🏻)

this is fucking insane i’m going to wet my pants- thank you for this idea you’re a genius 🫶🏼 | effective continuation of this

the 141 would like to enter your older bf!simon’s phone into the museum of natural history for its significant contributions to peace keeping efforts.

if that phone hadn’t been in this safe house, there would be far more destruction in their wake. it goes without saying, really.

what you will say is, whilst his phone is the metaphor- it’s really you that’s giving the opposition time to breathe (limited, their time will eventually come)

the dining table was small, when you had four hulking great men around it the thing looked minuscule. room temperature beers in front of them, it’d taken at least three bottles each for the first to speak up.

“c’mon mate, put us out our misery”

obviously their captain would take one for the team and go first, eyes locking with simon. without being able to see his mouth, it was hard to tell but price was pretty sure that was a chuckle (he hoped it was)

a quick rustle as simon shoved his hand in the pocket of his tactical trousers, retrieving the battered android and laying it in the centre of the table.

bated breathe, you could’ve heard a fucking pin drop as they all watched him unlock his phone. one long finger hovering over the camera app before he pressed it, an almost collective sigh of relief emanating through the house.

simon couldn’t and wouldn’t organise his phone, apps always open in the background, unorganised on his home screen, not a fucking photo album in sight.

photos heaped together in the one collective mess. it was very possible to be looking at an old receipt one minute and then the small of your back with cum across it the next.

majority of the photos were you, and not always filthy. simon couldn’t take a photo to save his life but the ones of you always looked breathtaking.

if you asked him, that’s just what you always looked like.

however, the 141 weren’t there for photos of you smiling as you pet a friendly dog. they were there for the kind of photo simon was just about to pull up.

sat on the corner of the bed, photo taken in the long mirror against the wall. thighs spread and one hand playing between them as the other held your phone next to your pouting lips.

gaz was the first to state the obvious.

“jesus christ, mate”

simon didn’t even blink, finger swiping through the next photo.

on the bed on your knees with your chest pressed to the mattress. looking back over your shoulder with a fucked out expression as you practically gave your ass to the camera.

the unmistakable sound of johnny shifting in the seat to his left caught simon, adjusting his cock just out the corner of his eye.

photo after photo, full nude, lingerie, simon’s shirts, just the bed sheet. with every one that passed, the beer was soon forgotten about when the buzz they got off you was unmatched.

the sweet glow that seemed to radiate off you filled the otherwise dim place the men had been hold up in. photos beginning to blur into one until-

the photo was taken from mid-thigh, simon somehow looked even bigger from this angle. shirt lifted enough to show his scarred stomach but his balaclava stayed on. exposed eyes staring down at the camera as his large hand wrapped around his equally large cock.

dead silence speared straight down the middle by a moan, pathetically covered with a cough. simon pretended not to notice the accent, left the phone in the centre of the table.

nobody could look away, it was physically impossible to tear their eyes off the sight in front of them. had they ever seen one that big in real life?

“fuckin’ell L.T, what’ya doin’ w’all that?”

they all knew simon had a big cock, you could tell by looking at him- the way he walked. if you’d ended up in the showers with him on base and seen it soft you’d even know.

it was unmissable.

but seeing it like this? looming over the camera at this angle, practically eclipsing the natural light, his thick fingers just closing around the base. this was something else.

you were quite the artistic director.

nobody wanted to be the first to say what the other was thinking. allowing the silence to fill the space only broken by the occasional sound of someone adjusting their trousers.

simon didn’t need anything to be said, he knew what he had and he knew the effect it had on- anyone really. he simply sat back in his seat, spreading his thighs wider and ignoring the occasional glance that fell on him when he did it.

finally cutting them loose, simon swiped to the next photo- back to you with cum streaked across your face. throats clearing and murmurs arising from the group.

“that’s real nice”

“would y’look at the fuckin’ state a’that”

“what i wouldn’t give”

simon grunted in agreement, eyes flickering around the table with a feeling invisible growing in his chest. a feeling that he wasn’t used to but didn’t- mind?

he didn’t think too long, he couldn’t think too long.

those photos would just have to become part of the regular.

[striveattemptfail]

logan howlett & wade wilson, mild-M, ~1k | spoilers for the dp&w movie. more gen than slash (technically one-sided poolverine on wade's side). rated for sexual themes and cursing thank you to B @broosepayne for the amazing beta and sharing poolverine brainworms with me ❤️🤝💛 any other mistakes are mine read on ao3

Wade’s erection had been pressing into Logan’s crotch for the better part of half an hour.

It was extremely uncomfortable at first, especially with one of the Fantastic Four kids in the corner just waggling his eyebrows at him when he somehow found out. (How? Logan didn’t fucking know.) He could’ve sliced through their bonds—sliced through Wade—with practiced ease but he knew better than to try escaping in the middle of fuck-knows-where when the baddies driving them to fuck-knows-what had a giant magnet to subdue him. Logan didn’t even know where to go if he somehow managed to escape. Better to suss out what the hell he got himself into while he had downtime and two near useless allies with him.

Even if one of them—the most annoying motherfucker alive—was all but grinding on his hip.

He’d been in weird situations like this before. Sometimes a mission meant bunking in tiny places and sharing a bed with multiple men; sometimes adrenaline meant guys got excited while squeezed together in helicarriers and transport vehicles before a take-down; sometimes dicks just got hard from a random breeze. Logan knew that crotches got into places that were awkward, but it was bearable when the majority of his teammates were actively dating women and were definitely not into him.

(He suspected more than a few of them weren’t as straight as they claimed to be, but that wasn’t any of his damn business. He’d given up on naming his own sexuality a century ago; the fuck was he supposed to do with other guys’ confusion? Best to leave them alone to deal with it themselves was his prerogative.)

All to say: Logan had had his fair share of crotches rubbing on him. A man’s hips rhythmically but unconsciously bumping into his outside of sex was not a new experience.

Wade’s constant mumbling while asleep, however, was.

Logan tuned Wade out for the most part, since he was also used to tuning out his teammates’ ramblings—at the very least so he didn’t do something stupid like slice someone’s head off when he disagreed with a plan. (Yes, Scott was often the target of these urges.) Though none of them ever dared to talk about how they had the hots for Logan before dry humping him in their sleep. Frankly, most of them didn’t have the balls to or, if they did, Logan would more than happily castrate them for trying.

So obviously Wade had to be fucking different, and with his boner pressed against Logan for the better part of half a fucking hour while mumbling and whispering nonsense the whole time...

Well.

Even Logan had to wonder what the hell the idiot was dreaming about.

Were they fucking? They had to be, if Wade’s incessant yammering when he was awake was anything to go by. Logan had only known him for a few miserable hours but he was quick to figure out that Wade was very open about his sexual fantasies—especially for those who were in close proximity to him, like Logan. It really wouldn’t be a stretch to assume Wade was dreaming about the two of them bumping uglies.

Now, Logan wasn’t a particularly vain guy, but he knew he was attractive. God knew he used to put the work into his body, even if he did try to sabotage himself by drowning in shitty booze and self-destructive behaviour most days (every day). His healing factor meant he was constantly at peak physique no matter how hard he tried, so he’d long ago accepted that he’d have people leering at him, open and willing with their attraction towards him.

And Wade had been disgustingly open about how attracted he was to Logan. Logan didn’t understand half the shit that left the other man’s mouth—would hate himself more than he currently did if he even tried figuring out what the hell Wade babbled about—but he was very much aware of how horny Wade was for him. It’d probably be flattering for anybody else, being fawned and lusted over with Wade’s brand of enthusiasm, but unluckily for him Logan was not just anybody else. He was somebody stuck with the moron with a mouth, plus heightened senses.

And Jesus fucking Christ did every single one of his senses pick up on Wade’s arousal. Even without hearing the constant spew of bullshit leaving Wade’s face, Logan could smell how turned on he was from miles away. During their earlier fight, before they were interrupted by Victor and his Merry Little Bandits, Logan regrettably saw that Wade didn’t wear a cup and that he enjoyed showing off his growing chub for everyone to see.

Then again, even a human without an animalistic mutation could feel Wade’s prick standing at attention against them.

Wade suddenly moaned, a little louder than before, and the Fantastic Four Guy piped up, “Sounds like he’s having a good time, huh?” He waggled his eyebrows again, throwing a smirk in this time.

Logan glared back, eyes cutting and narrowed, a silent shut the fuck up made loud and clear despite not opening his mouth. Fantastic Four Guy rolled his eyes and lifted his bound hands in surrender before looking away.

A groan escaped Wade this time, along with his head lolling around, which meant—thank fuck—he was probably waking up.

Then Wade grumbled, “God of thunder, ngh, eugh—!”

Hrm.

So Wade wasn’t dreaming about him this whole time. The hard-on Logan had been dealing with for thirty whole minutes was because of Thor.

Which meant Logan was trapped in the desert, tied to the most annoying man to ever walk on two legs, and the boner poking at his hip wasn’t even for him.

What a fucking joke.

Pushing away his simultaneous relief and (what the fucking fuck) disappointment, Logan chose to focus on Wade finally waking up.

“How long was I asleep?” Wade slurred.

Logan didn’t hesitate to let his annoyance be known.

“Not all of you was asleep.”

He squinted his eyes and even shot Wade the tiniest, most sarcastic smile. Hopefully the bastard knew that it meant Logan was going to tear him a new one for making him deal with Wade’s annoying dick over goddamn Thor of all people after they dealt with—

—whatever they had to deal with at the end of this ride.

——————————————

(More notes on Ao3.)

[silvergarnet12]

Splatoon was the first Nintendo game to push me out of my comfort zone of single player games, and with the closure of it's servers I wanted to draw a tribute to a game that really means a lot to me.

Some long rambles about the game under the cut.

When I first played the Global Testfire I was 15, and the only mutliplayer games I played were with friends in the same room.

Splatoon was also the first shooter I ever picked up, as I always liked bright colours over more realistic graphics in my games, and back then the only shooters I knew about were Halo(and that was only really a name to me!) and the CoD games.

Any worries I had about being bad quickly vanished as the sheer vibe of chaotic fun the game had, particularly when no one had played it before, got rid of any worries, and all I remember is having fun. And choosing to play as the guy instead of the girl for the first time, solely becuase I wanted a ponytail like in real life(I would continue to use the guy through the series as a tradition, a contrast to what I saw most people online doing).

When the game came out I binged the single player, and vividly remember the first time I fought DJ Octavio, and the first time I heard Calamari Inkantation. If ever a game was to convince me that a song could irreversibly change your life, it was Splatoon. Because to teenage me, in that moment, with Calamari Inkantation playing in the background while I fought an octupus DJ, it did.

It gave me terminal brainworms for this series. And here I am, 8 yrs later. Older and more tired, been through some shit, had some good times, tried, succeeded and failed in things throughout the years.

I've always been grateful that they made the decision for the player character from 1 to return, everytime they've shown up it's felt a bit like seeing an old friend, especially since as the games time skips have always had them close to my age(which probably helped my attachement back in the first game). So hi Three, can't believe we both probably pay taxes now.

I have the original two Inkling Amiibos, in a collection that is slowly building, I'm still attached to Marie, and yes I was on her team for the Final Splatfest.

I cried when it was over, just like I did in 2's Final Fest(I was team chaos, two for two baby!) and will probably do so for 3's as well. Something about this series just makes me super attached to it's world and characters.

So booyah Splatoon, my final online game of yours was well and truly years ago, but I replayed story mode to share you with a friend recently, and I think I'll refight Octavio tonight in honour of the good times.

You encouraged me to try out games I wouldn't have otherwise(hello Overwatch and Deep Rock Galactic), and outlasted one of the other major games of my teenage years(...Overwatch 1 I miss you). So thank you for that.

I'll miss Squid Jump, Inkstrike, the og kit for the NZap 89(why does it's new one not vibe with me ;-;), the Squid Sister's broadcasts and the more saturated colours. At least I can always return to the Plaza in 3, and that Spyke isn't dead like I was concerned he was when 3 released, and see the Squid Sisters perform during Splatfests again.

I have so much more to say in my heart about you but no more ways to word it.

You've been a fantastic game, and will always be a treasured experience that I am grateful to have been a apart of from the very beginning.

Now bring back Moray Towers in 3 damn it! It's in 2 but I DON'T WANT TO LOSE MY FAVOURITE STAGE IF IT"S NOT IN 4.

[danganphobia]

thinkign about laishuro but in a college au setting. mini fic kinda incoming im having brainworms.

toshiro keeps to himself and doesn't really talk to many people (but i like to think he's already good friends with kabru because they share some of the same classes together) but he shares this one class with this incredibly talkative guy that the professor absolutely despises named laios that always makes the class fucking bust out laughing. laios is the class clown but he's popular because he's just that guy that kinda knows everybody. and he sits next to toshiro and often asks him about assignments or to copy his notes because he didn't get to read all the slides on time. meanwhile toshiro's just like ok whatever (doesnt think anything of it)

since kabru already knows laios by default toshiro kinda gets roped into his whole friend group of different majors but i like to imagine they're all good friends because they're in the DnD club and toshiro's initiated like Immediately against his will. every now and then the club hangs out after classes and it's actually really Obvious that laios likes toshiro. he's like going out of his way to make sure the newbie is "comfortable" and other than kabru it's laios who toshiro ends up talking to the most. laios is sitting next to him the whole night, leaning in when toshiro needs to say something because it's super loud at the restaurant and everyone's like Lmao this is so painful.

kabru the instigator is like "guys let's add toshiro to the group chat" and he's making eyes at farlyn and marcille and chilchuck, who's just like fucking facepalming because they're horrible at being subtle, and it's laios who's like "OH YEAH TOTALLY, toshiro what's your number?????" so toshiro gives his number and he's added to the DnD group chat but really it was just a ploy for laios and toshiro to start texting each other. it works bc laios texts toshiro individually and says "hey its laios from bio i got ur number from the dnd gc i hope it's okay lol" i can see this fucking happening when kabru and toshiro are hanging out and kabru's like "bitch i FUCKING KNEW IT!!" and toshiro's like "of course i know it's him. why does he have to say that. he's very odd." kabru's just Staring at him like my dear friend laios likes you. toshiro's confused because ????? the thordens talk to like everybody on campus i think he's just friendly. and kabru says there's at least 20 other people in your class that he could ask for notes and assignments yet he always asks you. he's always asking all their friends where toshiro is when he's not around. he's like the first to look for toshiro when he walks into a room that laios KNOWS toshiro is in. he's always excited to see you to come club meetings. he texts you like every other day. he's even asked you to hang out, alone??? many times??? like how people ask each other on dates????

toshiro telling kabru its just to work on assignments together. and kabru brings up laios walking him all the way back to their dorm and giving him a hug, and toshiro can agree that's a bit Strange but it's "not even a big deal" until he's wide awake in bed at night thinking of the last time laios hugged him after walking him home and he's red in the face like FUCK. THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME.

anyways toshiro unable to handle the fact that what he has, as kabru calls it, is a Crush(TM) and refuses to believe it so he begins avoiding laios until it becomes a big thing. laios is genuinely upset and thinks he did something wrong. so he tracks toshiro down to ask him about it and he's rambling on about being an idiot and thinking he did something to make toshiro uncomfortable, toshiro doesn't rlly know what to do bc all his feelings the past few weeks have been piling up and is about to explode and he just. grabs laios and kisses him square on the lips.

a minute passes and they stare at each other. and laios is just like. Wat. toshiro's internally freaking out. and when he opens his mouth and says "laios-" laios cuts him off and very shyly asks, "can you... uh, can you do that again?"

toshiro just feels himself relax. laughs. and laios laughs. and toshiro kisses him again.

anyways i need fanart of this so bad bye

[aardvaark]

I just developed the Leverage brainworms, and they commingled with the House MD brainworms from when I was super into that show, so I came up with a rough outline for a House MD/Leverage crossover: Parker is in the ER after an injury on the last mission and overhears House loudly complaining to probably Cuddy about how some rich asshole is getting the organ his 16 yo patient needs because the patient got accused of something that he knows is fake. Everyone on the coms is telling Parker that it's not their job, to just drop it, but she fakes a much bigger injury and gets admitted as a cancer patient, so now they have to steal a hospital again.

House clocks Nate almost immediately and agrees to keep Cuddy off of them while they do whatever else they need to do. He also takes on the rich guy's case at the same time as the 16 yo, to keep him in the hospital.

Parker and Wilson get a few scenes together, and she has to talk him through some crime to help them along at some point. Foreman and Hardison get paired off, as well as Chase and Sophie, and Cameron and Elliot. At one point, Sophie and Chase have to fake dating for the case.

House and the team figure out that the rich guy's prognosis is even worse than he'd initially thought, even with the organ, he's not living past a year. This revelation comes at the same time as the Leverage team finding the evidence of the faked stuff that blocked the transplant initially. It's probably at this point that Cuddy is clued into everything as well.

The transplant committee agrees to give the organ to House's patient, and the rich guy gets scammed out of money somehow to pay the other patient's medical bills plus other things.

first of all, congrats on catching the leverage brainworms :) welcome to the party lol. secondly i love the idea of crossing over with house, because you’re so right, nate & house share quite a few major traits and would definitely clock each other! like the two spidermans meme. and the team has had a couple run-ins with medical & hospital settings and, notably, a guy trying to steal an organ, so it fits the jobs they take on very well. timeline-wise, the shows ran at the same time for a bit, too, so that’s nice because the technology level and their ages etc can be consistent.

i think eliot & foreman might bond a bit over their frustrating bosses. i’d love to see the ducklings eventually break into their patient’s house as they often do, and some of the leverage team already being there just like "umm we know what WE are doing here, but why the hell are this kid’s doctors breaking and entering??". and then bond over the whole "ohhh trust me, i know what having a really weird boss is like" thing lol.

also once parker’s recovered enough to sneak around, we def need to see more of parker pretending to be a nurse (eg order 23 job & miracle job) because 1) parker being a little disturbingly happy about being around sharp things (like needles & scalpels) or getting to drug people is always funny, and 2) easy seasons parker trying to comfort people is the best. her flight attendant alias in the mile high job? incredible. "death haunts us everyday :) <3" lmao.

thanks for the ask and infecting me with leverage/house crossover brainworms now too!!

[bluegiragi]

Complicated - Ghost/Soap [FIC]

[AN: I don't usually write fics and this definitely won't become a trend, but I had a major brainworm today and had to get it down on the page.

Relevant content tags: miscommunication, mutual pining, ghost being an idiot, angst angst ANGST IF THIS DOESN'T HURT THEN I DIDN'T DO A GOOD ENOUGH JOB.]

ghostsoap but where simon, hurt by a history of shitty relationships and the residual trauma of watching his father destroy his mother, sabotages his own relationship with soap out of fear, terrified by how strongly he feels for the man.

--

He ends it just as it's supposed to start. 

It's a mistake from the beginning, a culmination of adrenaline running high after a job well done, just the slightest buzz of alcohol and Johnny's voice in his ear the entire night. It has him running hot, running stupid, but all he can think of in the moment is how good it feels to kiss Soap so hard it hurts. They tumble into Soap's room in a mess of limbs and he shoves Soap down onto his bed, gets his mouth on him, his hand on him and the sounds he makes, fuck, the feeling of his hands in his hair as he presses his teeth into the curve of his ass-

it's so good that it's heady, makes him more delirious than a fully stocked bar could and he's stuck in the haze of Johnny, Johnny, Johnny and it's only when he hears how he moan his name ("Si, oh fuck - Simon!) as he cums that he realises-

-he loves him.

the realisation opens up a pit in his stomach. it's like someone just dropped him into an ice bath and suddenly he's seeing this in all it's naked, horrifying glory. how he's in his own sergeant's bed, how Soap is petting at his face, almost sleepily, dazed, sated, smiling at him like he's hung the fucking moon and stars and fuck. Fuck.

Ghost shoots to his feet so fast it's almost comical, methodically striding over to where he discarded his clothes when he stumbled into the room (when he wasn't thinking) to drag on his pants, his shirt, his fucking mask (goddamnit). Soap watches him from the bed, his eyebrows lifted in a half-amused half-confused quirk.

"Where you off to?"

"Back to my room."

"Y'know, most people like to linger after they do the deed. Bask in the afterglow." 

Soap stands to cross the room and Ghost almost swears. He can't find his boots.

"You have done this before, right L.T?" Soap says it to tease, but a hint of sincerity creeps in, a tentative olive branch in face of whatever thing he must think Ghost is doing.

"I'm not a blushing virgin if that's what you're asking."

"It's not. I'm asking about your history."

Ghost freezes. The pit in his stomach widens into a black fucking hole. 

"...I have one."

Soap whistles. Ghost, having finally caught sight of his remaining boot, yanks it on almost fast enough to tear through the sole. 

"That bad huh? What happened?"

"Things got complicated."

"And this - this isn't complicated?" Soap asks with a smile. Ghost stares at him for a moment, as the dawning reality of his situation sinks its claws into him. It is. God, it might just be the most complicated things have ever been for him. Fucking hell.

Ghost turns away, does up his laces and gets to his feet.

"Not yet."

"Yet? What's that supposed to mean?" A hint of defensiveness is starting to creep into Soap's voice. Ghost needs to get out of here before that hint burrows under his skin and convinces him to do something idiotic, like get back into bed with the (still naked) man who he just realised he's in too deep with.

"Nothing. See you topside." is all he says as he takes a step towards the door, and then suddenly Soap is there, blocking his view and his stride with a hand on his chest.

"Simon, what's wrong? You're...something's up." he says, and the clench of his heart at the sound of his concern has Ghost gritting his teeth.

"What, because I don't want to spend the night?" 

"The fuck?" Soap laughs out, almost incredulous. "I didn't say that, I j-just -" he stutters, Ghost's mind almost coos and he wants to rip that voice out of his head and suffocate it under a pillow. "What is wrong with you? We fuck once and now I'm chopped liver?"

Johnny stares at him, a crease deepening between his eyebrows, a slight lift to his lips like he's wanting this to be a joke, something in passing, not what he's beginning to understand it is. And the fear, the anger, at Johnny for making him feel this way, for overcomplicating things, at himself for letting him in - it spills out like something poisonous in Ghost's throat, black and putrid and smelling like his father's breath on his worst nights. 

Ghost fixes him with a glare. 

"Is it really so impossible for you to understand this meant more to you than it did to me, Sergeant?"

He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth but they're out there. Hanging in the air, frozen. Soap stares at him, unmoving.

"...What?" he says in a rasp like in that moment he's giving him a chance to take it back. But Ghost's throat is closed up with something thick and the moment passes and Johnny's expression shutters, eyes blinking, his lips curling up into a wry mirthless grin. He shakes his head at the floor, a hollow laugh jerking out of his chest.

"Alright then," he mutters almost too quiet to hear and then he looks back up at Ghost and the smile falls. "Get out."

"Soap-"

"Get the fuck out." 

Ghost is more or less shoved into the corridor and the door slams behind him with a jarring finality. The silence that falls afterwards feels emptier somehow and for a second, he considers going back inside. Knocking at the door, begging Johnny to let him in, apologising, saying it was all a mistake. Saying that he loved him.

But he doesn't. He hasn't got the parts to do this right. He knows that. His father knew it. Every relationship he's ever had knew it, knew there wasn't enough material to build anything in the pit that was Simon Riley. Staying, giving either of them hope, letting this thing fester into something he'd have to watch die one day -

- this was a mercy. Soap would find someone better. He'd understand in the end.

Simon walks back to his room.

--

Inside, Soap waits until he can't hear Ghost's footsteps anymore before he slides down the length of the door and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. His stupid, burning eyes.

"Stupid," he hisses quietly to himself. "You stupid, fucking idiot."

--

The next day they're called into a briefing and run into each other in the hall. It's tense. Ghost stares down at the circles under Soap's eyes, how those baby blues widen then flatten into something (colder, his thoughts unhelpfully supply) simpler.

"Sergeant," Ghost says in acknowledgement. Business like always. They've always worked well together. After this passes, after Soap...recovers from whatever shit got into his head that Simon fucking Riley was worth any part of him -

"Lieutenant."

Soap's eyes flick away, forward, and he brushes past him into the briefing room, leaving Ghost standing out in the hallway. 'Lieutenant'. It's his title, there shouldn't be anymore to it. But -

"Let's get ourselves a win yeah, L.T?"

There's something tight in his chest. Ghost clenches his jaw.

When he walks inside the room, Soap is far over on the right side, sitting next to Gaz, chatting animatedly. He doesn't pause when Ghost walks past, doesn't even look as he settles into his seat. Price shoots him a glance from the front. Ghost stares resolutely ahead.

--

"What the fuck did you do, Simon? Shit in his breakfast?" Price levels an accusatory stare his way once they're alone in his office and instinctively, Ghost bristles. And then the look on Soap's face last night comes back to him, the rasp of his "...What?". That last chance he didn't take.

He deflates, and pours himself a glass of the whiskey sitting on top of his captain's desk.

"I ended something before it could start."

Price's eyes soften, almost imperceptibly.

"Oh, son. You didn't."

"It's for both our sakes," Ghost says with a finality, and downs the glass in one go.

[eldritchamy]

i have read the original story and consulted the wiki as i wrote it

What other stories have you read?

It's one thing getting your worldbuilding and vibes from the wiki and another thing entirely to see how the really foundational stories did it up close for yourself.

Absolutely NOTHING about Abscission and Divaricated can really be conveyed to you in the form of a summary. Those two stories ARE HDG. The original story is great, but those are the works that built the world the OG story is a tiny peek into. They are earthshatteringly important to UNDERSTANDING the setting as a whole.

I've had the idea behind my first story for almost a month now and every really major foundational story I've read so far has been absolutely groundbreaking in terms of the perspective I've gained. SO MUCH of the time I've spent reading *THE* setting-defining works I've just been overwhelmed by the sense of HOW MUCH BETTER I'll be able to do my own story after having read these first.

As eager as I am to start writing, the amount I'm getting out of reading these other works first is undeniable. I can no longer imagine trying to tell the story I want to do without having read them. I've even had a couple of major authors and server staff tell me outright that it seems like I grok with the setting really well, and I'm still determined to have the experience of those foundational stories BEFORE I start working on my own. The end result of what I want to do can ONLY be better for having that perspective.

Plus, they are foundational for a reason. They're AMAZING stories. There's a reason (well, several) the setting expanded so far from the original story into the thousand-plus stories that now exist as part of a shared universe. And that reason is Abscission and Divaricated. Plus a few others that I'm still very eager to read.

I don't want it to sound discouraging that you should read a LOT of things before you commit to writing for the setting.

It's a really fun journey to be on, seeing how the works that MADE hdg what it is set everything up. And it will absolutely help the end result of whatever you want to make feel more at home in the shared world (and remember, it IS very much a SHARED WORLD, not really a fandom in any traditional sense).

I got the writing brainworms too, but I do NOT regret the experience of taking my time to learn the vibes and read the axiomatic works of the setting FIRST, and I'd go as far as saying that if I had started writing it before reading a lot of these, I absolutely WOULD have ended up regretting it later.

[arkiwii]

Kristen Arknights is giving me brainworms this cannot continue

Before Lone Trail, I was really convinced that "ah yeah so she's really evil", like what, she approved and conducted the Diabolic Experiment? She approved the experiment at Site #359 and was probably looking at the giant Hub from her window, presumably while eating popcorns, and when Saria arrived to scream at her "WHAT THE FUCK" Kristen just replied "Oh hey I knew you would solve it"? She also funded Loken's Watertank and collected his data on children experiments after he got arrested??

Any sane person would be calling her an egoist, a betrayer, a seeker, a loner

And yet, she was a pioneer.

Lone Trail dropped and now, I don't even know what to think anymore of this character. Like I don't approve what she has done, but also, I don't hate her. She put me into a state of mind I can't think straight anymore. This dog is TRULY fucked up.

She was obsessed, truly obsessed by her dream. She wanted to achieve what her parents had failed to do. She wanted to honor her family, to prove something to the world. To find the truth. To break the sky.

And she fucking did it. She absolutely did. She achieved it, she had done what nobody has ever done before. Regardless of the methods, regardless of morals and ethics, what she did was HUGE. That night, everyone on Terra looked up at the sky. She made a huge step forward, she revolutioned and changed things. The moment she pierced the starpod, a page in the history of the world had been turned, a new era has started. This event was major. And countless scientists will look up upon her, and for ages, her name will be praised.

And she did at what cost? Everything. Her own life, her friends.

I can't stop thinking about how much she tried to keep Saria away from her. I thought that Kristen was using Saria, that she didn't care about her, but actually it's... Something else. She does care about Saria, but it's Saria who was completely obsessed with Kristen. It's Saria who refused to let go. Of course, Saria devoted her life to protect Kristen, she wanted to stay with her until the very end. Kristen did not wanted it, she wanted Saria to continue to live on. It's her dream, and she's ready to die to achieve it. Not Saria's. Nor Muelsyse's.

I can't stop thinking about how she tried EVERYTHING to stop Saria. She studied her Arts, found ways to supress them, created Power Armors to neutralize them, she showed coldness to Saria to keep her away. But god, Saria was clingy as hell. If Kristen had to get to install a trap door in her spaceship SPECIFICALLY for Saria, that's to say how much Saria did not want to let go.

Saria was ready to die for Kristen, she was ready to stay with her until the very end. But Kristen always had in mind to go alone.

And in the end, she had to show Saria that she deserves to live, to continue, that there's still people who need her. Rhine Lab needs her. Ifrit needs her. Silence needs her. Rhodes Island needs her. She can't join Kristen like that. She can't die yet.

Even if Kristen was obsessed by her dream, she was still able to care enough for Saria and the people around her.

And god fucking damn I'm crying

Kristen is absolutely the best antagonist of all Arknights there's absolutely no way we can't do better, I'm standing on my ground

[mandiips]

BORUTO-VERSE RE-IMAGINING

Fourth War Casualties

New Konoha

Hello Boruto fandom, Never once watched Boruto, never even got past the Kazekage Rescue Arc, personally I think Ikemoto is a bit off his rocker because- how in the world did you manage to make this world even MORE sexist but y'know

so I'm having fun with what i would have liked to see in the next gen, as an original fan, and I am desperately trying to get rid of the ninja brainworms that have gripped me before workflow picks back up. (I'm actually going crazy on Milanotes)

I did some other rough brainstorming in the past and this is kinda building off that: Boruto Hinata

Thoughts:

It strikes me as really odd, for how catastrophic and world-ending the fourth war was, that there were seemingly no major repercussions or casualties. That's just not realistic to me. More than one main character should've died. It gives more emotional weight to someone like Kiba, who doesn't have any big role beyond the War, and thus gives his character a purpose that isn't just "Im gonna be Hokage #57"

The front lines weren't the only places being targeted, villages and safe houses were under siege, resulting in countless civilian, genin, and chunin deaths.

Mei stays Mizukage instead of that spineless, random guy.

I have some ideas for the injuries that the "crippling wounds" category sustains, but it's important to mention that "crippling" only means "not fit for active shinobi duty" since that's the bread and butter job of ninja society, so the severity of the injuries varies greatly.

I'm also aware that medical ninjutsu is like a magic eraser when it comes to stuff like that, but I rationalize that medics were more concerned about helping their patients survive rather than making sure their patients will be able to fully recover. Everyone in the injured category went too long without the proper surgery because they wanted civilians and lower ranks to have access first. Even then, the medical team was stretched extremely thin, so- consequences.

Retired: again, in context of "retired from shinobi duty". Majority still have active jobs. Alongside T&I, Ino still runs her flower shop; Tenten sets up a weapons shop right next to it; Shizune is the volunteer hospital head, meaning she doesn't get paid much, and tutors/helps/does paperwork (Sakura is a top medic who occasionally visits for emergencies- she's mostly busy with medical-related missions); Kurenai and The Boys™ teach at the academy; Karui's teammate, Omoi, moved with her to Konoha and he is now the best babysitter in town- though really he mostly looks after Chōchō and Shikadai when their parents are busy. He lives with Karui and her family, they're like siblings.

Konohamaru, Moegi, and Udon were all trained under Naruto during the blank period. However, Moegi was the only one able to reach her full potential because she managed to escape the War with no major wounds. She is now currently stronger than Canon Konohamaru Sensei was.

Marriages:

Nara Shikamaru & Nara Temari

Akimichi Choji & Akimichi Karui

Yamanaka Ino & Yamanaka Sai

Uchiha Sasuke & Haruno Sakura

Shinki, Mitsuki, and Kagura were all part of a Transfer Student Project. All willingly went, All are now full citizens.

I really didn't see Metal or any of the other evicted teammates serving a purpose to the Narrative.. Maybe Metal still exists in the future, the others I do not care about I'm sorry.

I just fucking hate Inojin

Kawaki was adopted when Boruto was around one (1) and a half. Himawari wasn't conceived yet.

Jonin Sensei and Teams:

Team Four (4): Shino, Sarada, Kawaki, Boruto

Team Eight (8): Karui, Iwabe, Kagura, Shikadai

Team Seven (7): Anko, Sai, Shinki, Sumire, Chōchō, Mitsuki

[qprpbj]

what do u think darrys actual headspace was when all the socs went to college and he had to dropout or couldnt really afford what they had anyways? im always thinking about how he had to straddle both worlds and how much that affected him.

hi you have officially opened the can of actually insane darry brainworms i have so. prepare for an actual essay.

WELL. if we have seen my account ever i am very much of the opinion that him going off to college, against all odds and disadvantages that greasers have to go through, and then having to drop out midway through, is imo a ton more devastating for him as a character than not getting to go at all — i guess in that case it’d probably be a ton easier for him to let go of the “soc life” he lived (or pretended to live) bc he’d probably just start working immediately out of graduation and that’d kinda be that. he never got a taste of the college life anyway, he worked hard but never got the chance to get out, a greaser is all he’ll ever be no matter how much he deluded himself in high school. bc most greasers don’t get out, the cycle of poverty and abuse (for most greasers, not necessarily darry) continues generation after generation

BUT. the idea of him working part time throughout high school, making connections w the socs to move on up and faking his way through both worlds, working his ass of at getting good grades and being the best on the football team to get scholarships, and his parents having their own careers & slowly saving up what they can to send him to a community college or in the city/city adjacent and not Terribly expensive like socs get to go to is SO intriguing to me. bc. he GOT OUT. he got out of the cycle that greasers simply don’t ever ever break, and he got out. like he was finally actually OUT. he finally got a taste of what it feels like to work and work and work and for it to FINALLY pay off.. just for his life to be completely flipped upside down & for it to be taken away all over again, out of circumstances he couldn’t even control. he can’t just work harder and work himself out of his parents dying. he wanted out and he GOT out, but tbh at the end of the day no matter how much he wanted out of greaser hood, his brothers come first & he’d never have lived with himself if he didn’t do all he could to keep his family together, even if it meant giving up what he’s worked for for his entire life (in terms of headspace though, during the dropout itself idk if he’d be so concerned with the soc/greaser issue as he would be that. yk his literal parents just died lol.)

& in terms of straddling both lives, you are so right, esp in high school!! particularly bc i kinda see darry as a conformist?? like he doesn’t really wanna Stand Out, he just wants to get by, he wants to work hard and take pride in what he does yk. i think as much as he was football captain and boy of the year and was super popular and “ran the school” so to speak though, he’d sort of always deep down feel like he’s on the outside looking in bc. he IS. he isn’t like the socs and he never will be. i think post-book, him coming to terms with & being okay with that (“i was born a greaser, so grease is all that ill get” “take pride in the greaser name” etc) would be major in terms of self compassion & forgiveness lol

[theeldritchcorvid]

Thoughts On The D20 Campaigns I've Watched Thus Far

This is by no means completely exhaustive, it's a mere summary of my absolute BRAINWORMS about this show. Been a long time coming, this one. Under the cut because this is a LONG ONE.

A Crown Of Candy: First campaign I watched. I loved the stakes and how complex these characters were. Brennan getting his murder on was something I didn't expect to like as much as I did. The sets? the design? INCREDIBLE. I want to build Calorum in Minecraft. I bingewatched it and it hurt so badly but I loved it. It was all the bits of Game of Thrones I liked without the bits I don't.

You almost forgot one of the major villains WASN'T made of broccoli. Almost. That levity was sorely needed and it came at very important times.

Ravening War: Watched the Calorum campaigns pretty close together. Found it fascinating how Matt's GM style meshed with the PCs. It felt like the House Of The Dragon to ACOC's Game of Thrones. In the best way. Lou Wilson being actively involved in killing his previous character's own parents. Deus Pa'zuul giving horror and kind of grindhouse energy. Reminded me of a show I like.

A Court Of Fey And Flowers: REGENCY YEARNING. Ruehob! THE COUSINS! Andhera being a constant mood! Aabria serving absolute LOOKS every episode! Loved it. Laughed my ass off and got weirdly invested simultaneously. Really good regency love stories are my absolute kryptonite.

Was introduced by the concept of 'The Goblin Code Of Chivalry' and expected pure comedy. Was wrong. This campaign wrenched my heart out of my chest and restored my faith in love. Also, sidebar: I need to GM or play Good Society these days. Holy shit. I love RP games.

Neverafter: I am spooked senseless and delighted. The fights in this one feel so tense, comparable to ACOC but in a very different sense. I'm a sucker for a really good Fractured Fairy Tale but it has to be very specifically done. The red tokens mechanic made me so happy when I learned how it worked in the finale which I won't spoil but I thought it was a really fun mechanic.

The evolutions of the characters with death was absolutely fascinating. Zac Oyama is now forever a cat to me I'm sorry. And I am blown away by the editing of this season. And Brennan's E1 'make a wisdom saving throw' to Ally out of nowhere is something I enjoyed. It has impacted significantly on my DMing style a LOT as I am someone who likes sharp left turns into horror.

Burrow's End: Currently watching so I can't expand fully on the season but liking it so far! Jasper Cartwright is delightful (he is excellent on Oxventure when he guests on that show which is where I know him from.) The characters all feel so rich and there is clearly something deeply unsettling behind these lovely forest creatures. Never fully understood the Humans Are Cthulhu trope until now. Aabria yet again brings an absolute banger of a campaign and I cannot WAIT to carry on with it

Sorry for the long post, everyone. I'd absolutely recommend 'You Awaken In A Strange Place' on Oxventure for D20 enjoyers who favour the chaotic. It slays me in the best way.

[cicada-candy]

Don't you just hate it when you drunkenly try to break up a barfight and meet the business end of a broken glass bottle? Don't you hate it even more when the demon that resurrects you is just kind of a dick?

(This ^^^ is from May. I'm only now getting around to getting further Hnnngh.)

Finally making ✨️The Big OC Post✨️ lmfao

posting this now because i am Stuck,, the brainworms want not to leave ig,,,,

SO

my guy my dude my boy whom I beat up all the time. That I've never actually. Posted About. Whoops.

Biographical Info.

From. Somewhere in NV. (Probably Reno because i am but a humble european who gets fuckin. Plains Fever if i think about the size of America too long) He's got a vulture theme going on. bcs I am cringe but I am ✨️free✨️and also like,,,,, desert.

Late 20s Early 30s. Hes centrally a chaos-junkie. The human embodiment of Watch This and Do It For The Plot ✨️Extreme Edition.✨️ 🎊🎉and Still. Technically 'Young And Stupid' but starting to get to the Oh Fuck This Is Just His ✨️Personality.✨️ Okay. Alright. Stage. He's also Kind Of A Self-Centered Prick. And is, therefore, very easily manipulated. This bites him in the ass regularly.

See Also: instigates constantly and then wonders why they get punted through windows/into brick walls/down many stairs. 

Forensics major drop-out. Did like. A year and got bored of it. Has the rare Sherlock Holmes Moment. The slightly More Common Dexter Morgan Moment. Other than that its just a fun fact. Writing Characters Smarter Than You Etc Etc,,,

Track Racer!! Not. Super Fleshed Out. Crew probably hates his ass for being so Destruction Of Property-ey. Definitely in Several of those videos of motogp racers crashing the fuck out of their bikes and then just. Grabbing a new one and Fucking Off.

The ✨️Timeline✨️

(kinda)

So. Abridged Series Of Events:

Goes to bar->

Gets in barfight->

Wakes up on floor of apartment Absolutely Hanging->

Proceeds to Deny Deflect Dissociate <3 his way through several months of shit sleep, weird bruises, and lost time-> *

Oh Fuck Wait.->

Was actually Very Murdered In afformentioned Barfight.->

Made a deal while bleeding the fuck out and also wasted. Great combination. ->

"How is this legally binding."->

Etc etc

(Said demon still doesn't. Have a name soooo. If anyone had any suggestions. 👉👈)

Quinn was also. Decidedly. Not Meant To Survive This Encounter. But alas he's built like a fuckin cockroach and fueled by spite and Neither Of Them Are Happy About It.

Ended up working out pretty sweet* for him though because he has quite a strong (if a little idealised) sense of justice and Likes Life And Not Being Exsanguinated.

(*yk. Apart from the whole. burning alive thing.)

Frequent Flyer at Danny's bar other than that probably minimal contact with other GRs. Not sure yet tho lol

~~~

The problem with my kind of OC writing is I have a lot of like. Little Story Ideas. That I. Could draw but alas motivation is an endangered species in my life and they're not very cohesive.

so i get stuff like *this lmao

But anyway Good luck deciphering this mess. If anyone needs me, I'll be making the Chowerpoint ghost rider edition. 🫡

[sentientcave]

And They Were Roommates

Got brainworms from Ceilidho talkin' about Fem!Soap and wrote out a few scenarios, and landed on this one as my favourite. Maybe personal trainer Soap and hot woman complimenting you in a dive bar bathroom Soap will get written about later on.

Part 1

Part 2 Here

(Fem!SoapxFemReader) ~2.2k words

Alcohol mention, but no other major flags at this point. (A few jokes about axe murderers) But also MDNI because this is an 18+ blog and there will probably be NSFW content in future parts

You had put an ad up online.

Your best friend had moved in with her boyfriend, leaving you with more apartment than you could afford. You had enough savings to get you through till the next month, but things were going to be dicey if you didn’t find someone to take over Fern’s half of the rent soon.

You’d had plenty of responses, mostly from men that gave you creepy vibes, even through digital means. You’d actually met with only one person, and she was allergic to cats, which made her a no go.

She’d been nice enough, though. If it really came down to it, maybe Fern would take Red Herring. She did love that fat orange bastard. And so do you. The thought of giving him up, even to Fern, doesn’t sit right.

Red meows loudly through the door as your key scrapes in the lock. You nudge him away with your foot while you enter the apartment, wary of any escape attempts. You feed him so he stops yelling at you, and boil water so you can feed yourself some instant ramen for dinner, and boot up your laptop to check the ad again.

A few more creepy responses, one of which is just a slightly blurry dick pic. You delete them. One that looks promising.

>Hey! I’m interested in the room if it’s still available! Can we meet soon? I’m a military gal and I’m being deployed again next week and I already gave notice at the last rat-hole I was renting. Seemed like 60 days was plenty of time for apartment hunting 60 days ago, but I haven’t found anything lol. Hopefully we get along! You can give me a call any time in the next few days, and we can set up a meet’n’greet. Thanks a bunch! Jamie MacTavish

Her number is in brackets below that, next to the soap emoji, for whatever reason.

No sense waiting around. You call the number right away.

“Hello?” The voice is a woman’s, a dusky alto, which is a good first sign.

“Hi, Jamie? I’m calling about the apartment. Or, um, from the apartment.” You give her your name as an after thought, feeling silly that you hadn’t led with that.

“Yaldy! I was hopin’ ye’d call. I’ve got a friend I can move in with if it comes down to it, but I really don’t want to. He lives in a worse rat hole than I do. Are ye busy now? I’ll buy ye dinner if you like, just for the short notice and the trouble.”

Anything would be better than ramen for dinner a second night in a row. “Yeah, alright. There’s a decent pub down the street, Keeler’s? It’s close so I can give you an apartment tour if you pass the ‘not a murderer’ vibe check.”

There's a beat of silence. “Does killin’ people in the line of duty count?” she asked. “Because, er, I have. But I’m not like, prone to doin’ that kind of thing in my spare time.”

You think about it a moment. State sanctioned violence does feel different than personal time violence, although you're pretty sure that speaks to some sort of unaddressed bias. Something to think about. “I appreciate the honesty, at least.”

She laughed. “I can meet ye at yer pub in half an hour. That work for ye?”

“Yeah. That works.”

“Great. I’ll text you a picture of me so ye know who tae look for. See you soon.”

You get the text a minute after you hang up. A picture of a gorgeous woman with big smile and bright blue eyes, the sides of her head shaved, the rest of it left long and braided back from her face. She looks normal enough.

You get ready and head out, texting Fern to let her know where you’d gone, just in case Jamie actually was a murderer in her spare time.

Jamie’s already there when you get to the pub, sitting at the bar with a pint, watching the door intently, her leg bouncing. You give her a little wave, and she beams at you. She’s even hotter in real life, wearing tight, ripped up jeans that cling to her muscular thighs, and a tight black tank-top under a cropped leather jacket. She has almost no jewelry, other than the dog tags around her neck and the silver hoops in her ears. She looks, well, normal. Friendly.

You go up and introduce yourself, earning a firm handshake. She’s strong.

“Hi!” she says excitedly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jamie, but my friends call me Soap. I’d tell ye why, but it’s classified.”

“Is it really?”

“No. But it’s fun to say.” She flags down the bartender. “A pint for my friend here, if you don’t mind. You want to grab a booth? Or stay up at the bar?”

You look around, and there’s a few empty booths, but it’s early yet, and they tend to fill up quickly. “Let’s move. If we stay up here the single dads are going to start hitting on us.”

"We are a couple of dolls, aren't we?" She flashed another big smile at the bartender as he set a second pint out. "We're movin' to a table, if ye don't mind."

"No problem, love," he says, obviously besotted already. "I'll send Jenny around to take your order."

"Thanks, pal. Appreciate it."

You pick up the pint and follow her over to a booth, sliding in on the opposite side.

"So, you said you're military?"

"Ah am. SAS no less. Best of the bloody best. Not many jobs where ye get tae blow things up awl the time." She sheds her jacket, revealing impressively muscled arms. "I could just live on base, if things don't work out here, just so ye ken. No pressure on ye. But I hate stayin' on base when I don't have to. It's the communal showers. Most of the lads are, well, lads. Gotta shower in the middle of the night, and I keep bumpin' into my LT when I do. And he said I could move in with him too. I’m in a rush but I willnae be homeless, so ye don’t need to worry about me if you dinnae think we’ll get along."

You wince in sympathy. "That sounds terrible. I don't think I'd ever be comfortable showering in front of other people."

"Is naw so bad, if it's someone ye like seein' naked. But most of em are munters anyway. Wouldnae mind so much if more of 'em looked like you." She winked over the edge of her pint glass and took a swig.

You laugh at her little joke. She's fun, and you already feel at ease with her. She tells you about her old rat hole apartment, and a little about living on base, although she's a bit vague on the details of her actual job, beyond blowing things up.

She asks you about your work, and you tell her about the used bookshop you work at down the road. You're basically the only employee, and it's usually not too busy, although it can be annoying when you get a rush in the middle of pricing 'new' books. But it pays the rent, more or less. You talk a bit about Fern, and about Red Herring too.

"I love cats," she said excitedly. "Never been able to keep one, bein' away so much. LT had a dog, and he was awlright, but I'm definitely more of a cat girl. Got bit by a few too many pups in my day."

"Well, Red's a real love bug. Once we're done here you can meet him. I think we're going to get along fine."

"Och, really? Just like that, aye? Thought I'd have to work harder."

"Honestly, I thought I was going to have to accept some weirdo or give poor old Red away. You're a much better fit than I expected to find. I think we could be friends."

Her blue eyes track something behind you and narrow slightly. "Well, I'm holdin' ye to that. We're about to be accosted by my lads. Don't let them scare ye." She shoves her plate across the table into the spot next to you and clambers out of the booth. "Oi, what're you munters doin' here? I'm gettin' interviewed for an apartment. Dinnae need you scarin' my girl."

You look behind you, spotting a giant wearing a skull-print balaclava, and a more regular-sized (though no less muscular) black man with a brilliant smile. "We wanted to make sure she wasn't an axe murderer," he says pleasantly.

"Or a chainsaw murderer," the giant adds.

Soap cuts him off before he can take the seat beside you. "Over there," she orders, pointing at the opposite bench, where she'd been sitting. "I'm not lettin' you box her in." She grimaces at you apologetically as she drops into the spot beside you. Her thigh presses against yours for a moment, before you shift further down the bench. "They're sweet, in their own way. Think I need lookin' after. The big guy's Ghost, or LT. This handsome pain in the arse is Gaz. Don't let him sweet talk ye intae callin' him Kyle unless you want him tae put yer ankles up by yer ears. Made that mistake before."

"You don't have to bring that up every time you introduce me to a woman," Gaz says, clearly exasperated.

"I do. How else are they gonna know to call you for a good time?" She smacks his hand away from her plate when he reaches for it. "Oi! Order your own chips ye bastard."

"I only want a couple," Gaz protests.

"Ye always say tha' and ye always lie. Ah umnae fallin' for it again."

"You can have a couple of mine," you offer. "I wasn't going to finish them anyway."

"When do we get to see the place?" Ghost asked.

"Ye don't, unless yer carryin' boxes for me. I willna ask her to let three strangers in her home when she's only just met me."

"Well I guess we're helpin' ye move," Ghost said. "Was gonna leave it all to Price."

"Lazy cunts. Ne’er around when there’s work tae be done.”

“I was gonna help,” Gaz protests. “I already told you that.”

“And I did tell you that you could move into my place if you didn’t find somethin’ in time,” Ghost points out. “We’re not all bad.”

“Well, they’re not bad lads tae have watchin’ yer back in a fire-fight,” Soap admits. “But they dinnae know how to be normal about anythin’.”

“Are you supposed to be the normal one?” Ghost asks.

“Aye. And I willnae have you say otherwise in front of my new friend.”

She finishes eating long before you do, with the speed and gusto of a woman who often has to defend her plate against hungry scavengers. Gaz, true to Soap’s complaint, eats the majority of your chips, although he does thank you and give you a big, wide smile, the sort that could sell someone a bridge. He’s definitely a charmer.

Soap asks for the bill while you’re finishing up. You reach for your purse, but she puts a hand on yours and gives you an intense blue stare. “No, kitty. I told ye I was buyin’ ye dinner, I’ll no’ let ye make me a liar, especially when Gaz ate half your plate.”

God she’s strong. You’re not sure that you could shake her off to insist even if you tried. “Alright. I just—”

“Oh I ken. But I wouldna offer if I didna mean it. I’m a woman of her word.” She pays with cash, and offers you a hand up and out of the booth. She points a warning finger at her friends. “And dinnae follow us, ye creepy bastards.”

They laugh, like they hadn’t followed her to the pub in the first place.

“They really do mean well,” Soap says, linking her arm with yours as you step out onto the street. “But they’ve go’ a bad habit of thinkin’ they dinnae need to respect my space just ‘cause we’ve all spent nights crammed into one room sharin’ cots. I think if the captain had his way we’d all live in his house and sleep in a big fuck-off pile like dogs.”

“Sound a bit claustrophobic.”

“Aye. Ye understand why I’m so eager to make this work with ye, kitty-cat. If I move in with LT it’s just a matter of time before Price comes over tae help us fix somethin’ and says ‘Oh, I dinny know why ye both stay in this shitehole. Whyna stay with me a while, till we find ye somethin’ better?’ And then before we know it we’re all sleepin’ in the same bed and usin’ the same toothbrush.”

You giggle, hoping that's just a joke. “That’s gross.”

“I ken! Horrible men, they are. I need some girl time before I go mad.” She squeezes your arm and knocks her head against yours gently. “We’re goin’ tae be best friends in no time, kitty. I wish I wasna goin’ away so soon.”

“You haven’t even seen the apartment yet!”

“Och, tha’s a formality. I was more wurried about us gettin’ along, kitty. The apartment doesna matter all that much, so long as it’s got a workin’ shower and a place for my bed. If I pass Mr. Herring’s sniff test, I’ll give ye cash on the spot, aye? For next month an’ half of this one, since you’d be lettin' me move in before the first.”

And, well, it’s hard to think of a good reason to say no.

[cedarnommer]

Disclaimer: I'm not a medical professional. This is a retelling of my subjective experiences and my subjective understandings.

Disclaimer 2: I had a rather scuffed start to my HRT and had to readjust it and start t blockers more than half a year after starting HRT. You can subtract around 8 months from the numbers I'm giving and you might get the time when you'll experience changes for some things.

Ever since starting HRT, my body has undergone a great deal of changes. I had a rather unpleasant experience with a transphobic endocrinologist which tried their best to make me give up on going on hormones. Despite their attempts, in the end I got my prescription and have been going strong.

That being said, I'll talk about some of the effects that I've experienced on my body.

My body hair has decreased significantly. I have way less hair on my legs, my arms, my chest and my stomach. Hair removal as a result has become a far more insignificant task that I only sometimes think about. Body hair started to decrease once I started t blockers and within 2 to 3 months, it was already a lot less.

My hair has gained a lot of volume and has become softer. Taking HRT means that your epigenetics change, so this could mean that you might start taking off an AFAB relative in your family. I don't have deep connections to my family so I wouldn't know, but my hair is very soft now and gains crazy volume. I've noticed significant changes to my hair after a year of HRT.

The body fat distribution on my legs has been interesting. I had rather toned muscular legs prior to HRT and I cut down on exercising a lot. The bottom part of my legs has only now started to look a bit more balanced. As for my thighs, I would say they increased their volume by maybe 3 times. They're very big and soft now. The bottom of my legs only look noticeably different now after a year and a half of HRT. My thighs started experiencing changes around a year into HRT.

My butt has become a lot more jigglier and softer. You can really sink your fingers into it. I wouldn't necessarily say it changed its shape significantly. But the way fat is distributed around it is different. I started seeing changes there within a few months.

My waist changed a lot. I used to have a much more flat figure and now I have a waistline. It's honestly surprising to me every single time. I wouldn't say I have an hourglass figure. And I don't think such a figure is realistic or positive. However my body has changed up enough to where this is noticeable. These changes took around a year.

My tummy has become a lot softer and it actually bulges out now, despite me being skinny. Don't let brainworms get to you on this if you're like me and have an eating disorder. The bulging part is not only fat, but it's your organs as well adding that weight. Something about how fat distribution changes under a lot of estrogen seems to cause it to look this way. It's perfectly normal and healthy. These changes happened after a year of HRT.

I have breasts now. They're still developing. They can be very sensitive sometimes and they can hurt to touch. They're soft and they're mine. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say here as they're still developing and changing. My breast growth started around half a year into HRT, but my breasts became noticeable after a year. I can no longer go outside without wearing a bra. There's a lot of gender euphoria to it all. But I have noticed that on some days my back can hurt now. It's very important that you're careful with your body as you start having added weight there. After around a year and a half, I can confidently say that I'm hovering around B cup.

My arms have really lost a lot of muscle mass. They're much skinnier where the muscle area is. And that's also reflective of the fact that I can't carry nearly as much as I used to. I started seeing these effects around half a year into HRT.

Your face fat distribution is going to be yet another major change. Over time your face will gain more fat and so your complexion will change. You may notice your cheeks become softer, sides of your face gain fat and as a result your jaw is less defined. The area around your eyes will change up too and your eyes might start popping out more as a result. It's honestly amazing. These effects took me around a year or so.

My HRT consists of estrogen pills, cypro for t blockers and I recently started progesterone. I hope my experience can be useful to anyone else.