#flappin my gums

[groovyinsects]

Pinned Post/About

Mostly want to clean up how this blog looks a bit and give some info about my characters/world building.

This blog focuses on my insect oc’s, their concept art, maybe a bit of world building, and whatnot. I’m working on 3 stories (or at least trying to!) that will take place in the same world, “Insecta.”

As far as basic world building goes, Insecta is a group of islands inhabited by anthropomorphic, rubber-hose styled insects called “Toons.” It is perpetually in a 1930s aesthetic and function (however, elements from the early 1900s, 20s, and 40s are present as well). No one in Insecta knows exactly how the islands came to be. However, everyone knows that the early inhabitants of the islands had “toon abilities” (such as the rubber-hose traits 1920s-1940s cartoon characters possessed, like detaching limbs, arms and legs that can stretch and bend in unrealistic ways, creating objects out of nothing, etc.) Over time these abilities were lost, creating another mystery; how did these abilities disappear, and why? (another trait that Insecta’s inhabitants don’t possess is the ability to fly. I’m not sure whether I want it to be a “toon ability” that was lost over time or something the toons never had in the first place).

                                                   Map of Insecta

Even though these characters and stories are near and dear to me, at the end of the day they’re just for fun. I’m writing about what is interesting to me, which is 1930s cartoon bugs XD

I'm currently working on four stories:

McVee Mansion

Olive, a psychic, and her friend Betts, investigate a haunted and dangerous mansion deep in the woods. Takes place in Clement City.

The Strange Case of Pine Hollow

Othmer, a disgruntled designer, dreams of creating an elixir that will improve the quality of life for everyone in Insecta. (this one was partly inspired by Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) Takes place in Pine Hollow.

Phantom of the Lighthouse

The lighthouse-turned-cabaret sports a rag-tag team of dysfunctional workers, along with a mysterious Phantom lurking in the walls… (this one is basically poto but. 1930s bugs in a lighthouse) Takes place in Clement City.

A Magician's Secret

Not much to say about this one yet, other than I've got drawings of these characters posted on the blog.

Insecta's site

will update this post as I see fit!

[forestshadow-wolf]

What if Soap and ghost were on a mission that turned south. Not because of the unpredicted gun fight. Or because the target tried to run.

Cw: Main Character Death

No they were almost always prepared for those kinds of complications. Almost expected them. It was very rare that things went to perfectly to plan, and it was almost disappointing when it didn't happen.

What they weren't prepared for was a botched opportunity to aquire some new intel.

It wasn't that they couldn't download the intel. They both always had a flash drive on them for just in case scenarios, like this one. It wasn't even that the intel was fucked... well, kinda...

They'd agreed that soap would grab the intel, ghost would start taking the target back to the exfil location, and wait for soap there. Easy enough, right?

He shucked the protection of his gloves, in favor of the dexterity he needed for the touch screen. Turns out grabbing intel was not so easy if said intel is bugged to detonate a bomb underneath the warehouse as soon as the download starts... there's a distinct *CLICK* and soap has half a second to think 'well I'm fucked'

And then he's opening his eyes to dust and debris bathed in the orange light of fire. There's something that digs into his back, right between his shoulder blades. His head rings. Or maybe that's his radio.

One hand paws at his radio, as he uses his other hand to push himself up. Both attempts in vain. His radio toned in his ear, and while he did manage to get standing it for only for about half a second before he collapsed. He released the button on his radio. Still it crackled unintelligibly.

Thank god he decided to look into electrical wiring for setting up a new model of charges because after a minute and a lot of fiddling, his radio garbled something half understandable.

"-NNY! HOW COPY? JOHNNY! HOW! COPY!"

"Ah'm alive. Warehouse blew."

"I know. You injured?"

"Aye, can't hold m'legs under me. How'd you get the target to confess to the bomb?" It felt like his head was swimming.

"I didn't. It was the giant bloody mushroom cloud. Don't. Move. I'm comin' for ya."

Oh. Yeah, that made more sense, huh.

"Aye, I'll wait fer ya, L.T."

Ghost asked him questions the whole while, keeping him awake. Soap questioned him back, ever the opportunist, to find out more about the man.

"Ghost." He says abruptly cutting off whatever ghost had been saying, as soon as his eyes fluttered opened. "Ah think... ah think ah'm losin' time."

He heard ghost curse under his breath, and his breathing pick up. "Stay awake, Johnny. You hear? Keep talkin' to me. Tell me-.. tell me 'bout your sister. How's she doin'."

"That's a new one. Never had anyone tell me ta keep flappin' my gums..." he coughs wetly, "Hey- is it supposed to be hard to breathe? That's not normal, right?"

Ghost goes really quiet on hsi end of the line then. And then he speaks up, really softly. "Johnny?"

"Yeah, L.T?"

"Liten to me very carefully. Have you been impaled?"

Soap looks down at himself. It's hard to breathe, but he's got nothing poking out of him, so, "no?"

Ghost curses again.

Oh. Hey was the fire that close before? Shouldn't ge be hot, not shivering his fuckin' balls off? Something's... thats... Something's definitely wrong. His eyelids threaten to fall closed.

Wait! No. He's supposed to stay awake. That's what ghost said... he thinks... right? You're not supposed to fall asleep. He learned that in basic didn't he? Why was it so hard to think? Maybe it was the shivering? Wait, but there was fire. He should be hot. He should be trying to get away from it... but he was so tired? He should sleep if he's tired, right? Listen to his body and all that.

Wait! But ghost said!

"Can you talk to me, L.T? 'M tired..."

"JOHNNY! Stay awake! You hear?" The volume of the garbled words startles soap awake again.

"Talk? W'na 'ear yer voice.." he slurs

Ghost answers him appropriately... he thinks. The voice is soothing. He could fall asleep to that voice so easily...

When ghost finds soap he's not breathing, his pulse is faint, and fire is creeping ever closer. He starts rescue breaths immediately. Next come the chest compressions. He feels something snap underneath his hands. He keeps going. Med-evac should be here by now he thinks.

PLEASE! JOHNNY, PLEASE!

he doesn't wake up. His pulse fades weaker and weaker.

He still has time. He still has time. He still has time. He. Still. Has. Time.

He's not losing him. He's not losing him He's not losing him. HE IS NOT LOSING HIM!

Oh... but the medical team pulls him away. He fights back. They drag him out of the building. He watches as they carry soaps lifeless body out through fire.

They don't even start chest compression again. They just lay him down in a body bag and zip it up

A gutteral, heart-wrenching scream rips through the air. It's him. He knows it's him. But he can't feel it. Can't hear it. Not really anyway. He screams, pushes, curses, shoves. Anything to bring Johnny back.

Johnny does not come back.

He collapses. They have to drag both him and Johnny the body back to the helo.

That's it. That's how it ends.

Nothing quiet and soft like they both hoped for. Nothing brilliant or spectacular. Not even taking the life of an enemy or saving a comrade's life. Just...

The autopsy report said a punctured lung.

The explosion must've broken his ribs. His best guess it that it punctured his lung when he'd tried to get up tjat first time. Then fluid began to fill his lungs. And neither of them knew. Not until it was too late anyway. Soap had gone into shock, and Ghost hadn't been able to get there fast enough. They said they didn't know how he survived so long with the filled lung.

But ghost knows. He stayed to talk to simon. Just for a little longer.

That's the only consolation he gets as he fills out the mission report. That soap's hear stopped beating to the sound of his voice. He'd always said simon had a lovely voice, he wasn't sure if he believed that but soap seemed to think so.

But what now... what... happens... now...

This was supposed to be like 2.5 sentences but it grew legs and ran away from me

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello again. XD Would you consider a Calamity Jane!Reader request for Buddha, Heracles, Lu Bu, Rudra? Got her in my brain now and she ain't fittin' to leave anytime soon. A women of action not words, tall, compassionate but crass. Strikes me as the painfully blunt type.

"Listen here stretch, I ain't got no time for yer gum flappin', either ya get to yer point or I'm puttin' some lead between your pretty lil' eyes."

If you want you can use my previous question with Artemis vs Clamity Jane and flip a coin to see who wins. XD I want you to have as much fun with it as it runs through my head.

No rush, please and thank you~!

With a warm apple pie~!

-You were no soft and delicate lady; you were a woman ready to throw hands with anyone who would dare disrespect you; many learned that the hard way when they tried and quickly got either an ass beating or a bullet lodged somewhere in their body.

-You kept to yourself in Valhalla, as everything you needed was provided for you, so there was no need to work hard any longer, but you felt bored just sitting around, so you started a large garden, something you were proud of.

-There were times you missed riding on horses and exploring, scouting out new territories, and you would be able to sate those cravings for a while, getting a horse, borrowed from one of the Valkyries, and just go out and ride, feeling the freedom of just being out and running free.

-Those who lived near to you respected you, as you respected them and protected them against those who just wanted to take, despite having everything they would need.

-Many, humans and gods, learned to leave your little corner of Valhalla alone, mainly because you wouldn’t hesitate to shoot them, and you weren’t known for warning shots.

-It was a time of celebration in Valhalla, after humanity had won Ragnarok, earning their salvation and gaining the respect of the gods.

-You had fought as well, against a huntress goddess, Artemis, who, in your opinion, was one of the few people you respected. And you had greeted her, once all those who had fallen, had been returned to life, with a warm handshake and a hug, welcoming her back.

-Artemis respected you, as you bested her, and the two of you became friends as well as rivals, constantly having competitions and trading wins between the two of you.

-Your hard-won victory in Valhalla had gained quite a lot of attention, as they were all recorded, so those who fought earlier could see all the later fights, and you found yourself being courted by a weirdo, or at least in your book he was a weirdo.

-Buddha- He learned the hard way that you don’t like to be snuck up on. He saw you speaking with Brunnhilde, and he grinned, wanting to ask you questions about your fight, as you were very impressive with your abilities to dodge and shoot at the same time. When he wrapped his arms around you, he quickly found himself on the ground, holding his jaw after you had whirled around and delivered a haymaker, pulling out your pistol at the same time, pointing it at him. He grinned, flirting, “If I had known you liked it rough I would have tried harder.” You cocked your pistol, your eyelid twitching before Brunnhilde stopped you, “None of that now.” Buddha did make it up to you, taking you out for a drink. He wanted to know more about your feisty side.

-Hercules- He was like a dog, if you had to describe him, big, happy, kinda dumb looking, but he was pretty damn cute. When he approached you, asking you for a fight, he began to ramble, praising your fight and going over it. His enthusiasm was pretty cute, but it got old pretty quickly as you grabbed his top, pulling him down into a kiss to shut him up, “Stop flapping your gums- if were gonna fight then let’s get to it!” his lips were stuck in the puckered position, completely shocked on how bold you were before he was quick to catch up you, giving you a shy look, “If I win can I get another kiss?” you couldn’t help but smirk up at him, silently challenging him. There was something exciting about you!

-Lu Bu- He had approached you wanting a fight, wanting to test his strength against your own, trouble is, he did it while you were in the middle of enjoying a nice cold beer at your favorite saloon in Valhalla. You waved at the bartender, signaling for another drink and he was surprised when you pushed it to him, “Drink up- ain’t no fighting happening today. I ain’t nowhere near sober enough to give you what you want.” You were so unlike the women of his time, soft spoken, reserved, you were loud, crass, and to be completely honest, he liked it! He downed the drink and you gave him a smirk, “Is that a challenge, boy?” the bartender could only roll his eyes as he prepared the glasses for your next drinking contest.

-Rudra- When you spotted a god hanging out by your front gate as you were coming home, you glared slightly, wondering if you had another fight, “Hey- what you doing here?” Rudra turned and you had to admit, he was quite the looker as he gave you a friendly smile, “Hello there Y/N, I wanted to come and see you. I have some questions about your fighting technique that I wanted to ask about.” He didn’t seem like he was here to fight, but you weren’t completely sure just yet. He was expecting you to invite him in but surprised him with your crass nature, “Don’t know what you want to ask about it- it’s simple, dodge and don’t get hit and hit the other bastard first.” He couldn’t help but grin, seeing your simple way of thinking about a fight. It took a few visits before you invited Rudra into your home, finding his persistence admirable while he was elated he was finally getting through to you.

[superchat]

online. flappin my gums again

[cainluvr69]

Surely, We Can Make Miracles Chapter 5

Previous Chapter

Nero: There ain't any point in eatin' it cold if it's supposed to be served hot! You don't even cook, and all you can do is fuckin' complain about it!

Originally, they'd been whispering to each other, but as Nero's anger mounted, his voice was getting louder. Even if Dianne couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, it was still perfectly obvious there was some kind of argument going on. Bradley leaned in, refusing to give in, audaciously trying to whisper into Nero's ear again even as Nero was glaring daggers at him.

Bradley: I can at least tell when the person makin' it actually has pride in what they're makin'. You ain't the one makin' this shit. Why are you tryin' to cover for 'em?

Nero: Now you're tryin' to preach at me about pride in your work? You're just pretendin' you know what the hell you're talkin' about when you're just flappin' your gums!

Figaro: (You know, now that I'm getting a good look at them…they're kind of obviously ex-partners, aren't they…) (I wouldn't have thought it'd be his friend in the kitchen. Really, preconceptions are never any good.)

Faust: (Nero… No matter how much he might say you're his friend in the kitchen, Bradley's still a Northern wizard.) (Thoughtlessly making him angry isn't going to end well.)

Lennox: (Goodness. Bradley's such a glutton.)

The tension in the air was only getting progressively more electric. And then Shino joined in, keeping his voice low.

Shino: I get what Bradley's saying. Let me be honest. First…

Heathcliff: Shino.

Heath said his servant's name sharply. He was every inch a noble right now, the look in his blue eyes cold and pointed. Shino flinched, and then took a deep breath and started shooting back.

Shino: I'm saying this for your sake. You don't need to do anything.

Heathcliff: You're being arrogant. And you're being ungrateful towards the noble Western Chenon House's Lady Dianne's hospitality, which she's put her heart and soul into… Any furthur critique is out of line. Your insolence is doing nothing but dragging the Blanchett name through the mud. Have some self-control.

Heathcliff's harsh words made Shino snap his mouth shut. He was trembling a bit, his gaze drifting away from him. After a moment, though, remorse showed on his face, and he deeply bowed his head. Heathcliff, too, bowed slightly to Dianne, and then elegantly returned to his meal.

Shino: (Heath's right… It wasn't all that long ago that I was hunting for scraps. Maybe I've gotten too used to living well.)

Heathcliff: (I'm sorry I was so forceful, Shino… But if I didn't say as much as I did, it could've turned into a diplomatic incident…) (She's smiling right now, but she must be furious in her heart… What if one day she says I need to give you up?) (It's possible I won't be able to save you from that, Shino… So…)

An unpleasant atmosphere settled into the silence as our meal continued. About when I felt confident no one else was going to start voicing their displeasure, Bradley leaned back and crossed his legs.

Bradley: But damn!

Nero: Woah! My hand's slippin' on the pepper…!

Bradley: Waugh…! Achoo!!

In the fight against <the Great Calamity>, Bradley had been afflicted with a bizarre injury that affected him when he sneezed--and, well, he vanished. Somewhere in the world, he was cursing Nero and his pepper.

Snow: Goodness gracious, I suppose there was no avoiding that.

White: We shall go to the market and retrieve Bradley.

Figaro: There's no way of knowing Bradley showed up at the market, is there? You two just want to go window shopping.

Snow & White: Gulp…

Figaro: Please don't do anything disrespectful. Rutile and Mitile are both sitting nice and politely…

Snow: You're so wrong! We're just going to go pick up our dear Bradley!

White: We have a duty to supervise him, you know! By the way, Owen dear, what's that cake called again?

Owen: Torta di cocco.

White: Thanks!

Figaro: Jeez.

The twins vanished like smoke.

Mithra: Hm? Is no one else eating? If you're not going to eat, I'll take it.

Owen: Here.

Owen pushed his food onto Mithra's plate, and then stood up from his seat and drained his cup of tea.

Owen: I want more of that cake, too.

And, having said that, he vanished, too. The ensuing silence was so heavy you could cut it with a knife.

Akira: (What should I do… Should I have said something…?) (I wonder what everyone's thinking…?)

Oz: … (Though this is not especially good…) (It still outclasses my own failures.)

Arthur: (I bet he's thinking this is better than his own mess-ups.)

Rutile: (I've made some pretty bad dishes too…)

Mithra: (Everyone's eating so lightly. That means I win.)

Mitile: (It's not very good, but saying that would be rude and wasteful.)

Riquet: (Expressing displeasure with one's meal is to embrace corruption. It is a terrible thing to do. I know that, and yet…) (I'd been wanting to eat something more delicious than this.)

Cain: (Owen's really going to go eat more…? I know that cake was delicious, but he already ate seven slices…)

Shylock: (My sincerest apologies, but I have no intention of putting anything that doesn't capture my heart into my body.)

Chloe: (I need to eat all of this, somehow… I've really gotten so used to eating Nero's food I've gotten spoiled…)

Rustica: (Chloe's ocean-inspired outfits look so good on everyone.)

Murr: (This rules! Watching everyone's reactions to having to keep their desires in check is so fun!)

Figaro: (For now I can just pretend to eat, and then get something from the market later.)

Lennox: (Lord Figaro isn't swallowing any of that, is he…? Is he making it disappear with magic…?)

Nero: (God… I can't do this… As a fellow chef, I can't pretend this is someone else's problem…) (What happened, Borda Castle head chef… Did you forget the seasoning to handle the smell or something?) (He seemed so meticulous in his work, too. Or maybe he got the cut wrong… Or is it someone else's work? Did they hire someone new?) (Maybe he got sick… He must've gotten sick. And now he can't taste things right anymore. That's gotta be it.) (Or maybe he injured his hands… How could things have ended up like this…) (What a disgrace… If it were me, I'd pack my bags and be gone by tomorrow…) (But what if he's got a family to support… Argh! I don't wanna even think about that.)

Faust: (Nero's making so many different faces right now…)

Dianne cleared her throat. She turned to face me and, bright as always, began to speak.

Dianne: By the way, Master Sage, I have a question for you.

Akira: Ah, yes. What is it?

Dianne: Lately, Borda Island has been facing a number of mysterious disappearances.

Akira: Disappearances…?

Dianne: Yes. Both the residents of the island and people visiting it are concerned by them. I'd like to ask your help in resolving them…

✦✧☾✧✦

Let me summarize what Dianne told me.

✦✧☾✧✦

Akira: Ever since Miss Dianne was appointed Borda Island's new lord, people have been disappearing. There's currently nine people missing, including both humans and wizards.

Chloe: Both humans and wizards…

Arthur: This island has its famous wizard market, after all.

Rustica: And this island is beautiful, so many humans come both to sightsee and to permanently settle down here.

Figaro: The development of magical technology has made it so much easier for humans to go where they like. If you look around, you'll see a lot of brand-new big homes.

Lennox: Meaning?

Figaro: There's more vacation homes. Hasn't land on Borda Island and in the City of Nectar gotten more pricy?

Shylock: I believe so.

Rutile: Isn't that odd? Are Southern Country's prairies going to be that pricy one day?

Murr: If there's more people living on them, yeah! The more demand there is, the more profit the suppliers make. Right now, Southern Country's pretty empty. But what if it got a population as big as Western Country's?!

Cain: Basically, Borda Island's a popular place to be for both wizards and humans.

Akira: Yes, exactly. According to Miss Dianne, the repeated disappearances are worsening the antagonism between wizards and humans.

Heathcliff: So they both think the other side is the culprit…?

Akira: It seems that way… The wizards in the market think it was the humans' doing… And the island humans think that it was the wizards' doing. And since Miss Dianne, who's open and friendly with wizards, just arrived…

Arthur: The island residents, already on edge, have been demanding that she leave. They think that a lord who's so close with wizards won't be similarly cordial with humans.

Akira: Exactly. You really understand what's going on, Arthur.

Arthur: It's like I always say. Though I may stand as Central Country's crown prince, I am also a wizard. The wizards think that I'll ally myself with humans. And the humans think that I'll ally myself with wizards. It takes a long time of open and patient conversation to stamp out any misunderstandings.

Shino: Why do you have to be the one to do it? They're the ones that are being stubborn.

Arthur: If you think the person you're talking to is being stubborn, you can never become friends with them. Both wizards and humans have decided that the other side is the one being stubborn. And so an endless cycle is born.

Shino: That's true… Actually, this is a good chance. You're a good guy, so let me give you some advice.

Arthur: You think I'm a good guy? I'm happy to hear that.

Shino: You're too good of a guy. You should let yourself get upset more often. If people don't wanna listen to you, they're not gonna listen. And then you're just wasting your time. There's not as many kind people in this world as you think. You should let up a little.

Arthur: Thank you. You're very kind, Shino.

Shino: Don't mock me.

Arthur: But don't worry. I wouldn't say I'm all that virtuous, either. I do have a goal in mind.

Shino: A goal?

Arthur: It takes time for people to see me not as a wizard, not as a human, not as a prince, but as myself. And for me to see the person I'm talking to properly, I need to take that much time as well. It's difficult to erase one's prejudices and preconceptions.

Shino: …I'm not willing to put that much work into other people. People who don't like me should just stay away from me. And I'll stay away from them, too. It's fine if we don't understand each other. It's enough to know what lines not to cross.

Arthur: I think that's fine, too. Boundaries exist so that you don't experience undue suffering.

Shino: …? Isn't that the complete opposite of what you said, though?

Arthur: I think it's the same. I probably just have much different boundaries from you. It's just about what we're good and not good with.

Shino: Meaning?

Arthur: If human society and wizard society stay separated, one day, they're going to collide messily with one another. I want to avoid that tragedy. I feel like that's the only thing I can leave in this world…

Oz: …

Arthur: What I'm trying to say, is… I'm good at having those kinds of patient conversations, and I have a personal interest in addressing the issue. So it's not something that's as difficult for me as you're worried about, Shino. But again, thank you.

Shino: Hmm… Well, if you say it's fine, then it's fine. Living just seems hard for you and Heath sometimes.

Heathcliff: …

Figaro: Things are getting pretty philosophical here. Both understanding something and misunderstanding something are important in a wizard's life. But for right now, let's just put that topic to the side.

Faust: You're just knocking that philosophical topic off the table like a cat.

Figaro: It'd be nice if it was the kind of topic that we could put on hold like that, right? So to sum it up, Master Sage, she wants us to find the true culprit behind these disappearances?

Akira: That's correct. The island residents are wary of the people in Miss Dianne's castle, so they can't do much at the moment…

Figaro: Got it. Then it's time to start collecting information on these disappearances. But first, Master Sage, can I have a second?

Figaro put his arm around my shoulder and led me away from the group. Once we were a bit of a ways away, he murmured something into my ear.

Figaro: …Master Sage. A lot of people are involved in these incidents.

Akira: The market wizards and the island residents, right?

Figaro: Yes. And there's also the possibility that these disappearances are actually serial murders.

Hearing that startled me. I looked up at him. He shrugged his shoulders with a bitter smile on his face.

Figaro: Wizards turn to stone when they die. Cleaning up the bodies is easy, so it's easy to cover up their deaths. Arthur is Oz's disciple, and Shino's been through a lot of direct combat. Heathcliff's also been taught how to protect his family. Chloe and Rustica have been traveling for years, and I imagine they've seen their fair share of fighting. But, my kids… The Southern brothers, Rutile and Mitile, aren't ready for this kind of thing. I don't think Riquet is, either. For the chance that humans have been killing wizards.

Akira: …How likely do you think the chance of that is?

Figaro: I'm not sure. They did say they're only disappearances, after all. Say you stabbed and killed me right now. All you'd have to do is wrap my stone in my clothes and bury them somewhere, and boom, I'm recorded as missing.

The bright sunlight was making my head spin.

Akira: (That's right. Wizards turn to stone…) (If something happened to any of them, I wouldn't even get to see them resting peacefully afterwards.)

Figaro: So I think it's better if the matter of information gathering is kept away from Rutile, Mitile, and Riquet… Oh, oh dear. Perhaps I should have kept it from you, too. You're looking a little off…

Shylock: Are you okay, Master Sage?

Suddenly Shylock was at my side, supporting my arm. He glared at Figaro, blaming him for my current state. Figaro raised both hands and shook his head.

Figaro: I didn't do anything.

The outline of the sun above glittered with all the colors of the rainbow. Just like the stone of a wizard.

Next Chapter

[tricornonthecob]

Full disclosure I did these last night

LK 108: What About Second Continental Congress

(pt1)(pt2)(pt3)(pt4)(pt5)

Henri knows whats up, immediately asking for deets about salary/commission. He spends time on whatever the Colonial version of glassdoor is. Which I guess is sneaking into a tavern and eavesdropping on everyone complain.

Oh honey. Oh no. Nooooo if I tell you this is a bad idea you'll just get mad at me because I'm an adult telling you what to do but honey the feral frenchman is right.

But lets be honest the guy only needed Speech 20.

Check out that spontoon.

Sarah honey, you okay? You look like you bluescreened.

oh my god I love this expression though I need to redraw this.

his lumbago

Look. I'm in this fandom. I was the target audience when the show aired. I know what the consensus is. He just didn't rustle my jimmies like that and he still doesn't. More silver DILF for y'all there's plenty to go around based on that barrel chest.

Fuckin' yeeted that door into oblivion.

YIKES but it tracks. Friendly reminder that Washington didn't provision to free his slaves until he was on his deathbed.

Also friendly reminder to everyone that commissioned an Apotheosis of Washington painting that he was Just Some Guy Who Enslaved People.

Maybe its her. Maybe its Maybelline.

Well now I'm just thinking of Letterkenney

John Adams, ready to fight a bitch.

Sit down, John.

Someone really doesn't wanna be here.

translation: This is a gum flappin' party, damn.

I think I'm clever.

Man the writer's room got silly in this episode. Just wee bit of OSHA-approved silly. As a treat.

jesus fucking christ that door is massive

Fucken accosted that teenager.

And now you're laying hands on a nine year old.

Damn the writers room getting REAL silly for this ep.

He's a real boy!

Of course the recklessness and excitability of James' character on full display here, but I feel like this episode is also trying to teach a lesson in how to spot someone trying to manipulate you into spilling state secrets.

[smilingmxsk]

∗ 34﹕ sender  is  found  by  receiver  somewhere  they  shouldn’t  be .

100 Nonverbal Prompts| Accepting!

This job was simple. Find the guy who made off with more than his share of the deal, cap 'im, and return the goods. The problem, as usual, is that the fucking coward brought friends. So Margaret had to deal with six different thugs shooting at her at the same time while she hid her bruised, cut-up body looking for a way to navigate around them. Luckily, that part didn't take her long.

Given that these thugs knew nothing about what she was capable of, she had the upper hand from where they were standing. The idiots stood just at the mouth of one of the many alleyways in this city with no firey orange tungsten light to illuminate their escape path. Pure darkness, i.e. Margaret's prime element of advantage. Out of their sight, Margaret reforms from the shadows behind the firing line, wasting no time to swing her shining aluminum right to the brain of the closest goon. The thugs take notice of the sudden ping and meaty thud of a crumpling body, only to have another body join the other on the ground the moment they turn to confront her.

There was no questioning how she got there or the force behind her swings that turned their men's heads into watermelons on contact. There wasn't any time for it. The remaining men ditched their guns for their fists or knives, yet Margaret was all too eager to engage. The third man downed received a bat to the knee, bringing him down to the Fixer's height to have his head properly smashed. The fourth had his face smashed into the nearest metal barrel before having his knife-holding arm twisted off, and the fifth gutted by the knife she borrowed. This left only the sixth man, the one behind the failed deal.

He'd long since dropped his gun, trembling, clutching the sealed briefcase with both arms.

"I won this fair n' square!" Shouted the man, frail in physique as opposed to his late brutish posse. "Y-you can't do dis ta me! Duncan agreed ta his part ov' that deal! There ain't no reason fo' him sendin' someone afta m-me!"

"Shame," Came Margaret's reply, flat and apathetic. "I got called here for a job, an' I'm here t' carry dat out."

"I-I could pay you more than he evah could!" Pled the man. "I got cash, y' see? Loads of it! J-jus' let me go an' I'll... I'll hire you myself! I can pay you, I promise— Hrk!"

The man's pleas are cut short by the clawed hand that shot out and gripped his throat.

"I ain't got time ta hear 'bout what you could do an' whateva th' fuck you're flappin' your gums about. Y' jus' wastin' my time. 'Sides. 'S bad business practice t' go recruitin' anotha man's employee."

She could've crushed this man's windpipe right here. She could dig the claw of her thumb right through it, in fact, listening to him struggle for painful breaths while she carved him a new breathing hole. But she doesn't. Something else has caught the woman's attention from the corner of her eye: pink, sparkling, and oozing with a rebellious spirit. She'd recognize them anywhere.

"...Byan?..."

[honorhearted]

TRY + A CHARACTER ( from Turn ofc ; do robert rogers )

SEND  TRY + A CHARACTER  YOU’D LIKE TO SEE ME ( ATTEMPT ) TO WRITE ! / @seadcgs

"Ah-tah-tahhh." Rogers lifted his leg and entrapped the other man -- no, rat -- beneath his boot, his tongue brushing against one sharp canine with a sneer. "Y'wanna know why you're strugglin', lad? Why you're findin' it so difficult to breathe?"

Any time Rogers honed in on the kill, became shark-like, his brogue grew more pronounced; his senses all heightened, and he could practically taste the panic in the air. As a boy, he'd learned to hunt young. It didn't take his father's patient tutelage to alert him to the cold and painful truth: the world was hard, the world was cruel, and woe to any man who stood in his way.

Although Rogers wouldn't call himself malicious nor unfair, there was a certain thrill in watching traitors squirm and beg for their lives. The greatest pleasure laid in giving them hope -- just the scantest ribbon of faith that they would live to see another tomorrow. And just as that relief settled in, he would yank the proverbial thread and unravel them into the meaningless, godforsaken rubbish heap from whence they came.

"Snake venom," he finally supplied, withdrawing a small vial from his pocket. "While you were so rudely flap-flap-flappin' your gums, I did the neighborly thing and poured us both a glass. Only, I didn't touch mine." Here, Rogers pinged the sherry with his index finger. "I knew I recognized you. If y'wanna catch a predator, y'gotta think like one, boy." He flicked the trembling man's perspiring forehead, tisking as he straightened with a sigh. "When, oh when will Major Andre learn that sendin' a wee pup to do a wolf's job ain't gonna work out, eh? That major of yours is startin' to leave a mighty big trail of bodies. Not my fault, by the way." Rogers raised his arms. "Wouldja blame a lion for defendin' his territory? I'm just doin' as animals do, lad, so I hope y'know this is nothin' personal."

The man choked and gurgled, shaking against the floor as his mouth foamed unpleasantly.

Tucking the venom back inside his coat, Rogers faux lamented, "I did consider lettin' ya live so y'could deliver the message to good ol' Johnny-boy personally, but I grow weary of his vanity and cowardice. Perhaps your death -- one I had to elevate for the sake of gainin' his attention -- will finally be the one that drives the point home, aye?"

When the man finally passed out, succumbing to the poison, Rogers doffed his hat and muttered up toward the darkening sky, "Alas, another foolish soul committed to the stars..." Such a waste. He'd been a good spy, too.

[tokka]

Fuggin' truth was, since 2006 I'd been approached by handfuls of media organizations, indy and documentary filmmakers and news shows wanting me in their various "Nerd #TMNT FANDOM" shows, mini-docs and movies. I even had to film some demo thing for an ill fated #KevinEastman documentary. NOTHING EVER PANNED OUT. I'd been rejected, shunned, passed over so many fucking times, wasted valuable work hours and making connections with media types that just didn't give a fuck about me as a fan, artist and designer ,blue-collar worker, or simply as a person. Yeah sure, a couple things just "Died in production Hell" but I'm sorry, been so jaded by these experiences over the decades I DID not really care about @toys nacelles "#TheToysThatMadeUs". I figured I'd get around to watching it eventually but it brought me so much anxiety thinking about, seriously I put it off indefinitely. #2022 has killed what little "Holiday Spirit " I had left..but I needed something to watch to end the miserable day, so I finally got the gumption to watch the #2019 S.3 #TMNT toy ep. Old friends n allies from @playmatestoys , @blacknerd , @steve_rvarner of @varnerstudios were in the doc and @cowabungacorner told me to watch it with a grain of salt. WASN'T bad. But NOONE told me that old " Masters of the Filthy Codgerverse",#JamesEatock @cerealgeek77 was in the damned show. So he's flappin his gums about #SpockDonatello and that made me laugh hysterically -- so "Thanks,J!! - you made my #BoxingDay" 👍🏼🎄🐢🗯 https://www.instagram.com/p/Cmob36nuMnm/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

"I trust no one."

"Well, hell if I know. I don't understand people like them." "Lightbearers?" "Friends."

"What would you do if your loved ones returned? "I don't have those. But, if I did… Wouldn't be sittin' here flappin' gums with you."

"Listen, Moondust. Hand to my heart, I am flattered. But Drifter ain't got time for all that! Let's keep this businesslike."

"Don't give in to hope. That gets you killed."

"Smoke. Leaves. Friends. Thoughts. Lives. Dust. Don't even try to hold on."

"Eaton. Who were those people to you?" "Nothing. Just ghosts."

Drifter is the emotional equivalent of Python's Black Knight. He's clearly desperately in need of love and compassion and forgiveness and friendship while he stands there insisting to your face that he doesn't.

love a fictional character who will scowl and tell people “I’m not sick” “I’m not hungry” “I didn’t get injured”

meanwhile he has an extremely high fever, he ate some soup last week, and the blood is soaking through his jacket

[groovyinsects]

does anyone else do the thing like--when you say some words you switch letters around on accident? but only the first or second letter in the word? i’ll say “i’m going to dose the clore” when what i mean is “i’m going to close the door.” 

or a “frying pan” will become a “pying fan.”

[correctrvbquotes]

Radio sounds

Command: This is Command calling Red Base, come in Red Base.

Sarge: This is Blood Gulch Outpost Number One.

Command: Agent Washington has reassembled the Blues.

Sarge: I knew it! I knew he was a Blue!

Command: Gather your team, we want you to stop Agent Washington at all costs. This is a level one directive. Good luck Red Base.

Sarge: Hey, one sec. Any word on that soldier poison I ordered?

Command: No. Good luck Red Base.

Sarge: What about the robot nuts?

Command: No. Good luck Red Base. Command out.

Sarge: Well you don't have to get so testy. Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? This thing gets terrible reception. Only have one bar! Hello?

Sarge runs down the ramp from Red Base to find Lopez standing idly doing nothing

Sarge: Can you hear me now? Can you hear me? Stupid 4G network. Lopez!

Lopez: Sí.

Sarge: That was Red Command.

Lopez: Sí. Yo sé. [Si. I know.]

Sarge: Were you listening to my call?

Lopez: Registro todas nuestrasllamadas por seguro de calidad. [I record all our calls for quality assurance.]

Sarge: They said those dirty Blues are up to no good!

Lopez: Esa llamada sonaba extraña a mi. [Actually that call sounded strange to me.]

Sarge: I agree! We have to stop 'em. No matter what the cost.

Lopez: Casi como si alguien tomó otra llamada y la corrigió. [Almost like someone took another call and chopped it up.]

Sarge: You're right! I shouldn't be here flappin' my gums, I need to shake a tail feather!

Lopez: Sí, usted se debería ir para su misión falsa al tiro... [Yes, you should go on your fake mission right away...]

Sarge: I gotta reassemble the team! And I know I can't get Donut, so that leaves just Simmons...

Camera pans to a wooden cutout of Grif with darts.

Sarge: ... and Grif.

Lopez: ...y quien sea que haya enviado la llamada lo matará. [...and you will most likely be killed by whomever sent that fake message.]

Sarge: Ah, good point! Maybe I'll get lucky and Grif was killed. Not in a glorious manner like battle of course, but doing something menial and humiliatin'! Maybe he drowned in a toilet while cleaning it.

Lopez: Pendejo. [You're an idiot.]

Sarge: I know, I know, I'm hopin' for too much. Lopez, pack m'gear. I gotta get goin'!

Lopez: Ya lo hice. Lo hago cada mañana con la esperanza que decida irse. [It's already done. I pack it every single morning in hopes that you will decide to leave.]

Sarge: Good ol' Lopez, dependable as always. Now Lopez-

Lopez: Oh dios... por favor. No quiero tener un momento. [Oh God... please. I don't want to have a moment.]

Sarge: I know we've had a lot of good times together-

Lopez: No haga esto. [Don't do this.]

Sarge: You've always relied on my guidance and protection.

Lopez: Ni siquiera pudo ganar contra la adolescente.[You couldn't even win the fight with that teenage girl.]

Sarge: But you're going to be on your own now.

Lopez: Bien. [Good.]

Sarge: I prepared you for the world as best I could.

Lopez: Usted me programó en un idioma que nadie habla acá. [You programmed me in a language that no one here speaks.]

Sarge: So take care of yourself. And always remember that I'll be thinkin' of ya.

Lopez: Voy a borrar todo recuerdo tuyo el segundo que te hayas ido. Al igual que por...y... [I am going to erase every memory of you the second you are gone. Just like I did for [FILE DELETED] and [FILE DELETED].]

Sarge: Nope. No words, Lopez. I'll see you again. In a better place. Adios amigo. Adios.

Lopez: Solo vete, viejo hombre estúpido. [Just go, you stupid old man.]

Sarge: I'll miss you too Lopez! Every single day. I promised myself I wouldn't cry.

Lopez: Menos hablar. Más partida. [Less talking. More leaving.]

Sarge: Me too Lopez! Me too!

Lopez: El pedal está a la derecha. [The gas pedal is on the right.]

Sarge: Heh heh. Now to find Grif and Simmons. I can only imagine what amazing adventures they must be having right ... now.

[37q]

whym i so fucking wired rn. i became horizontal and fwoosh im flappin my gums and flooding eardrums even distracting my wife from sleep

[the-sandy-hippo]

Day 5 of a month of ballads: Goadad Emivy

Y'see that big orc ove' there? The one with the bright red hair? That be Goadad, captain of The Suiram. He's one the more... how-to-say, playful captains when it comes ta his pray. Can be quite gruesome I've heard, least in his youth. I'd still keep an eye out tho, he rides under white sails wit a big gay eye on em, she's a slim brigantine but she's fast as oiled lightnin'.

Actually, if ye won't go flappin yer gums to him, I got a fun story 'bout him. He's been round here for a long time, but he wasn't always sum big fearsome capin'.

When he came here he was but a thin as bone babe, think he was 14 or 15, round there at least. Hot headed n stubborn as an ass. Got into many fights, lost as many. I tried givin' him advice but he couldn't stand havin' people tell 'em what ta do! Noone was above him back then, thought he, 'Til he met Mio.

Ta prepare ya a tad, Mio y'see, is a story in an of himself, but what ya need ta know is he's... well he is... we don’t know how long, but he is a bein' of water, many o his crew be too, noone knows why. It's not too obvious, usually, bar the blue skin an' dampness of his coat and- well his focking beard, it's a damn waterfall! Hehe, one time Hooper put a fish in it, took Mio days ta find it!

Haha... oh right Goadad, so me and Mio was just takin' a pint an’ talked briefly, when an already drunk orc burst thru tha door, probably after a raid, I think it was- no it must've been earlier, before his ship, it was when he was shy ta show his chest if ye get my meaning. Must've been before the island then, anyways!

He an some shipmates came in, hollerin' an shoutin'! Mio excused himself, he is a proper man, when he wishes. 'Oi!' Says he, 'Barely through the door and yer drunk already, half pint?' And as he spoke the room fell dreadfully silent, Mio's one of the greats in these waters, if not THE greatest beside... nevermind.

Goadad stumbled t'wards us, and glared daggers at us, the thin orc sayin 'I am as drunk, as I wish, ya got a problem with that?'

'It is of no issue to me.' Mio replied, 'Yer the one who gets thrown out if ye start trouble-' But I tell ya Mio didn't get out another word before Goadad planted his fist in Mio's jaw! Hahaha! Twas not enough ta get a reaction though. His face be as stony as ever as his arm swung! Catchin' Goa by the neck an tossin' him out! Landing ass flat on the cobble! Hahaha!

Oh- shit I think he heard us, act calm!

[xamassed]

He swore on the deeply slumbering Demon King that he hated that look. It was the same one his brothers gave him when they didn't believe him, and it ticked him off all the more knowing she had caught him in the middle of a feebly built lie.

"Look, it's——! Listen, it ain't easy, okay?! It ain't my fault humans are gettin' all smart about us. What the hell happened to y'all bein' normal and borin'? Now ya take one look at us, and at got two guesses: demon or a vampire, and it's bullshit."

He didn't sound as angry as his words implied. Behind the irritation, there was disappointment and hints of apprehension. Some day people would learn of him and his kind and how they all lived, but today wasn't meant to be that day. If word go out that his kind existed and were civil, he doubted they would react as levelheadedly as Tem did.

"Would ya actually believe me if I said it was a lot like that?" He could think of no better way to describe it. "It's kind of a long story, and I dunno if you'll just end up flappin' your gums about it once I tell ya."

A second passed, then two, then three, then—

"Why are ya talkin' like we ain't different?"

　　　TEM'S EXPRESSION FLATTENS, unable to hide her feelings at how utterly ridiculous that notion is. He hasn't exactly been keeping it quiet. When he puts the finger to his lips, she only raises an eyebrow, further highlighting the skepticism.

　　"If you're not supposed to let people know, then you're doing a terrible job," She remarks, leaning in to be quiet as he'd indicated, but in a way that it's as if she's passing on important information to him. "I mean, you struck out running into me, I guess, but there's plenty of people around who can tell when someone's. Well. Not human."

　　Her brow quirks again, and this time she looks genuinely confused. "Exchange program? Like...college? Actually, I guess if you stopped being weird about it you could pass this all off as just being a foreigner pretty easily..." Currency exchange, exchange student, all that; but he's really just bad at it. She'd be surprised if he was capable of thinking that much to hold up the farce of something else. "But, like, whatever the hell grin or grime is doesn't sound like any money I've ever heard of. And you talk about us like we're different species. Like, I know I already told you I caught on, but you gave that up sooo fast." She can't help but laugh a little; she may be "human" by most technicalities, but she does a pretty good job of keeping her peculiarities on the down-low. Meanwhile, he might as well be wearing a jacket with "NOT HUMAN" embroidered on the back.

[magnetikid]

he’s like a hotter jack spicer, y’all

who the hell’s this jack spicer bastard?