#speaker squad

[tabieeee]

what do u do if your new teammates are charming af technically a prequel to this? song: All The Right Moves - OneRepublic

[thistlesissel]

https://x.com/jul1zzz/status/1699718263607841178?s=61 translated this tweet’s image with starlit-miasma >:)

The question asked next to each unit logo is, “This years aspirations.” Everybody’s handwriting really reflects who they are lolll Mafuyu has the JP textbook/book writing

Niigo

Yoisaki Kanade　作る

To Make

Asahina Mafuyu 　知る

To Know

Shinonome Ena　描く

To Draw

Akiyama Mizuki　楽しむ

To Look Forward to

More More Jump

Hanasato Minori　希望

Hope, Aspiration

Kiritani Haruka　共に

Together

Momoi Airi　愛

Love

Hinomori Shizuku　私らしく

Be myself

Wonderland x Showtime

Tenma Tsukasa　笑顔

Laughing face/face of laughter/smiling

Ootori Emu　わんだほい！

WONDERHOY!

Kusanagi Nene　歌たう

To sing

Kamishiro Rui　魅

Can be used in the context of evil spirits in demons (contains the character for demon, 鬼) but with context it's to charm/entrance [the audience] A word that depends on context, but since with Rui’s character I’d say it’s charm/entrance.

Leo/Need

Hoshino Ichika　未来

Future. Fun kanji fact: 未 means “not yet”, 未 means “come”, so the future is what has yet to come

Tenma Saki　青春

Literally read as blue/green spring, but it’s youth; adolescence. Springtime is used to describe youth, the blue green color referring to spring green leaves

Mochizuki Honami　真心

True feelings/sincerity, the character 真 is used in grammar to express genuine feelings instead of absolute statements like 正, the former is subjective and the latter is objective

Hinomori Shiho　真剣

Literal reading is true blade, but read as true determination, like when you need to fully focus when sword fighting

Vivid Bad Squad

Azusawa Kohane　信じる

To believe

Shiraishi An　前へ

前 means before, へ is a particle that indicates destination, so could be read as “for before”

Shinonome Akito　突破

Breakthrough the impossible

Aoyagi Touya　経験

Experience, in the context of gaining experience in skill or work. You’d use 経験 to tell someone you have experience in rock climbing or computer science.

[wolfgang1097]

In case anybody isn't aware, there's a brief backstory about a certain Spy vs. Spy short

Good evening, folks. The Spy vs. Spy short that had to do with ventriloquism from MADtv is basically another fan favorite besides Defection. Not to mention that it's also the only short where anybody has spoken a single word at all.

I will admit, I do find the raspy voices, and the incomprehensible babble, the spies were given (especially White Spy) pretty interesting and, just like the suppressed snickering they had throughout most of the shorts, it suits them very well to some degree.

I've heard rumors that the spies were probably voiced by Bryan Callen right up until he left the show right after season two. Is this true? I dunno, but it may be possible.

Anyhow, in case anybody isn't aware, this whole incident was actually provoked when Black taunted White by shouting profanities at the latter whilst he was minding his own business, as seen at the very beginning the original paperback strip.

See?

Geesh, as much I like Black Spy and all, he can be such a huge wise-ass (I kinda did want to slug Black in the gut for straight up taunting White like that, I will admit). Well, it all came back to bite him on the ass when White retaliated by inventing a mini speaker and a mini microphone so that..well I'd see the events unfold in the video if I were you (and/or check out the original paperback strip, too; if y'all happen to have that paperback book with this strip), and the rest is history.

Hope y'all enjoyed finding out about this. Peace.

I do not claim ownership of any content. Spy vs. Spy belongs to the defunct MAD magazine and Antonio Prohias.

[lens-guy-art]

Lmao if I switch the characters from their universes

Alliance members: *vibing being silly smol robot guys at a Mall*

Meanwhile..

Technotic Sonic, Loudsy, Telly, Tv Cop, Blindspot, Yule B. Bored, and Critically Complained aka GADGET GUILD: *getting the soul-crushing trauma from war*

[the-arson-author-gamer]

Ok, when my assignment grind ends (3 relatively major ones due within the next 6-8 days) I'll need something to work on during my spare.

[ask-john-laruens]

John mumbled to himself.

"¿Por qué la gente me habla de Hércules? No quiero tener nada que ver con él en este momento, especialmente hablar de él. ¿Por qué querría hablar de él?"

[kaydub80]

"Madam Speaker, you have not brought floor votes on Medicare For All, extending the eviction moratorium or canceling student debt as you previously promised. You are out of compliance."

Imagine if the shoe were on the other foot and progressives weren't such cowards.

[shojoboy]

Bocchi the Rock rules but when the manga/anime fully wraps up can u all prmoise me we can collectively get into Beck Mongolian Chop Squad 

[windmill-ghost]

The thing about Splatoon is that the names have always been dumb, so the new band names make perfect sense. “I can’t believe my favorite character would have a less cool name!” The most prominent characters in the series are called Callie and Marie.

[tabieeee]

what do u do if ur boyfriend casually takes his head on and off

[soapkaars]

Increasingly thinking I may want to make an animation for this music

Torn between something based on The Man Who Knew too Much or Stakhanov the Robot

[amirasainz]

So after the whole Brazil GP weekend, I have to say that the drivers were so funny to watch during the whole "will there be a qualifying or not".

What about driver!reader that does something crazy during the whole thing. And afterwards she is sleeping by the tyres, because it's the warmest place to be.

Thank you <3333333

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

- xoxo babygirl 💙

Umbrella

It was Saturday afternoon at the Interlagos circuit, and the rain was relentless. The paddock was a mess of puddles, drenched engineers, and soaked fans who clung to their umbrellas, hoping for qualifying to start. The drivers waited in their motorhomes or huddled up in the pit garage, bantering, snacking, and desperately trying to stay warm. Every few minutes, the announcement would come over the speakers, postponing the start of qualifying yet again due to the downpour.

Max stretched his legs, leaning against the wall in the Red Bull garage. "You know, maybe they should let us race with jet skis at this point," he muttered, making a few of the mechanics chuckle.

Across the pit lane, Charles threw his head back with a laugh. "I’d like to see you try, Max!"

Just then, a slow, familiar beat started to play over the speakers. Boom, boom, ka… boom, boom, ka.

The drivers paused, exchanging confused glances as the unmistakable opening notes of Rihanna’s Umbrella played over the loudspeakers. But what really caught their attention was a ripple of excitement that surged through the crowd in the grandstands. The fans had all started pointing at something—someone—approaching from the back of the pit lane.

George squinted, “Is that…?”

Walking down the pit lane in a Red Bull jacket, drenched but looking determined, was Y/N, Red Bull’s first female racer, only 18 years old but with a spark and style that had everyone buzzing this season. She strutted through the puddles, the rain bouncing off her cap, her Red Bull mechanics flanking her like a squad, all clearly in on whatever she was planning.

The beat dropped, and as Rihanna’s voice filled the air, Y/N tossed her jacket off dramatically. With a grin, she and her mechanics began to move in sync to the music, just like Tom Holland’s legendary performance on Lip Sync Battle.

Carlos’ jaw dropped. “Are they—? No way!”

“Yep,” said Lando, unable to contain his laughter. “They’re doing the performance. Full send!”

As the first verse kicked in, Y/N spun, stepping through puddles with dramatic flourishes, her mechanics adding spins and claps that matched her every move. Fans cheered from the grandstands, chanting her name and holding up phones to capture every second.

Pierre and Esteban, usually rivals on and off the track, were both doubled over with laughter, cheering her on. “This is the best thing that’s happened all weekend,” Esteban said, wiping away a tear.

Max crossed his arms, nodding approvingly, “Respect. That’s commitment right there.”

Meanwhile, the Ferrari team leaned over the pit wall, watching in awe as Y/N absolutely nailed every move, the raindrops flying around her as if the storm itself was in on the performance. When she did the famous spin-and-drop move that Tom Holland had made famous, the entire pit lane erupted in applause and whistles.

“Look at her go!” Lewis called from Mercedes’ side, genuinely entertained. “She’s got the whole crowd captivated!”

Charles shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Forget racing, maybe she should go into show business.”

Y/N laughed, locking eyes with the crowd as she sang along to the chorus: “Under my umbrella, ella, ella…” The fans joined in, their voices echoing around the pit lane. Her mechanics, committed to the bit, twirled their umbrellas above her as if choreographed for the rain.

After the song finished, Y/N and her mechanics took an exaggerated bow, soaking wet but absolutely buzzing with energy and laughter. She waved at the crowd, blowing kisses, as her team threw their arms around her, cheering and laughing.

When Y/N returned to the Red Bull garage, dripping wet and grinning ear-to-ear, Max extended a hug. “That was epic, Y/N. Never thought I’d see someone pull that off here.”

“Thanks, Max,” she said, hugging him tightly back. “Thought I’d keep everyone entertained since, well, looks like we’re stuck here.”

Lando wandered over from McLaren, still laughing. “You know, if F1 ever falls through for you, there’s a career in musical theatre waiting.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Y/N said, laughing. “I’ll just have to be a part-time singer and full-time driver.”

The rain continued to pour down, and with no sign of qualifying starting soon, the energy in the paddock started to wind down. After the performance, most of the drivers and team members settled back, some checking the radar, others chatting and relaxing.

About an hour later, Carlos spotted something odd. “Uh…guys?”

Everyone turned to see Y/N curled up beside a stack of tires in the Red Bull garage, fast asleep. She had her arms wrapped around one of the tires, using it as a pillow, completely oblivious to the rain and noise around her.

Charles chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s hugging the tires. Guess they’re warmer than the rain.”

Max grinned, whispering, “She really is something, huh?”

Y/N’s mechanic, Luke, covered her with a spare Red Bull jacket, careful not to wake her. “Let her rest. She earned it after that show.”

Back in the grandstands, fans were still buzzing, sharing clips and photos of Y/N’s impromptu performance all over social media. The whole weekend might have been wet and chaotic, but for one afternoon, everyone—drivers, fans, and teams alike—had found a moment of pure, unexpected joy in the storm.

[notsogreatdion]

✶ INTERACTIVE FICTION RECS 3.0 ✶

✶ Mind Blind - @mindblindbard (wip)

✶ God-cursed - @wings-of-ink (wip)

✶ Aquarii - @aquarii-if (wip)

✶ Slaughter squad - @harlequinoccult (wip)

✶ Summer of Love - @summeroflove-if (wip)

✶ The Second Sight: Death Reckoning - @spoiledblogif (wip)

✶ Speaker - @speakergame (wip)

✶ Defiled Hearts: The Barbarian - @defiledheartsblog (wip)

✶ Shepherds of Haven - @shepherds-of-haven (wip)

✶ Apartment 502 - @apt502-if (wip)

✶ Grey Swan I - Birds of a Rose - @reinekes-fox (wip)

✶ In the Cards - @inthecards (wip)

✶ Bad Witch + au demo - @badwitch-if (wip)

✶ Saturnine - @satur9-if (wip)

✶ Prismatic - @prismaticif (wip)

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ✶

VN'S

✶ LyteLove (wip)

✶ Touchstarved (wip)

✶ Cupid Chatroom (wip)

✶ Adopt a Boyfriend

✶ seekL

✶ my friend is a ghost (super short but super cute)

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ✶

if recs 1.0 & if recs 2.0 & new projects recs

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Chaos in the Changing Room 👟🏟

Ingrid Engen x Reader

warning : fluffy 💭 💗

summary :

You go into the changing room to give Ingrid her shoes she forgot in your bag. You never expect the level of caos that was happening between these walls.

It had been a typical match day, and you were always there, supporting Ingrid from the stands. The energy at the stadium was electric, and the team was buzzing with excitement after their win. As you made your way out of the stadium, you realized something. Ingrid had left her shoes in your bag. With a sigh and a small smile, you decided to drop them off in the locker room before heading to the parking lot.

Making your way through the hallways of the stadium, you could hear faint laughter and chatter from the changing room as you approached. The door was slightly open, and you hesitated for a moment before knocking.

"Come in!" a voice yelled from inside.

You pushed open the door cautiously, shoes in hand, only to be greeted by utter chaos. Clothes were scattered everywhere, music was blasting from a speaker in the corner, and players were either dancing, shouting, or draping themselves across the benches in various states of post-match exhaustion.

"Uh… hi?" you called out, trying to spot Ingrid in the madness.

"Oh hey, you’re Ingrid’s girl, right?" A cheerful voice piped up from across the room. It was Mapi, grinning at you as she pointed. "She’s over there. Probably forgot something again, huh?"

You nodded, smiling awkwardly as you stepped further into the room. "Yeah, her shoes. She always leaves them behind."

Mapi laughed, and just as you were about to hand the shoes over to her, you felt a friendly arm wrap around your shoulder.

"Look who we have here!" someone announced loudly.

You turned to see Lucy Bronze, a wide smile on her face as she guided you further into the heart of the changing room. "You’ve made it to the chaos zone now, no turning back!"

"Lucy, leave her alone," Ingrid’s voice called out from across the room, sounding both amused and slightly exasperated. She was sitting on the bench, tying her hair back, clearly having just come out of the shower.

Your heart skipped a beat seeing her, even in the midst of this chaos. Her eyes caught yours, and she smiled softly as you approached.

"Hey, you forgot these," you said, holding out her shoes.

Ingrid groaned playfully. "I swear, I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached."

As you handed them over, Ingrid leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, but before you could even respond, another voice chimed in.

"Wait, wait, wait! Is this the Ingrid’s mysterious partner we’ve heard so much about?" Alexia, the captain herself, stood up from the bench, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as suddenly all eyes were on you. "I—uh…"

"Relax, we’re only teasing," Alexia said, laughing as she gave you a friendly pat on the back. "We’ve been dying to meet the person who keeps Engen grounded."

"Grounded?" Ingrid repeated with mock offense, standing up now. "Am I that bad?"

The rest of the team burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with them. Suddenly, you were enveloped in the friendly chaos of the squad. Being teased by Mapi, roped into a joke by Lucy, and even pulled into a celebratory dance circle by Keira.

For a moment, you forgot why you had even been nervous about coming into the locker room in the first place. This wasn’t just a team; this was a family, and they had welcomed you with open arms.

Eventually, Ingrid made her way back over to you, sliding an arm around your waist as the squad slowly started to wind down from their post-match high.

"Thanks for bringing these," she murmured, holding up the shoes with a sheepish grin.

"Anytime," you replied softly, leaning into her warmth.

As you looked around at the lively, spirited squad around you, you realized just how lucky you were. Not just to be with Ingrid, but to be embraced by the people she called her second family.

"Ready to head out?" Ingrid asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Yeah, let’s get out of this chaos before they rope us into something else," you joked, glancing over at Mapi, who was now challenging Lucy to some kind of ridiculous dance-off.

Hand in hand, you both made your way toward the door, leaving behind the whirlwind that was the changing room, your heart full from the laughter and love shared in that chaotic but wonderful space.

[charliemwrites]

Part 6 of SpecGru (former 141) reader; Simon’s perspective again.

Content: brief implication/mention of reader having idle suicidal ideation. In the way of “I don’t care if something happens to me” kind of way. Happens during a phone call between Price and reader’s new captain.

Please be careful and safe. If someone needs this part summarized, let me know. I love you all very much <3

Here’s the truth of it: Simon never meant for you to leave.

You were too close, that was true. He did everything short of actually hurting you to drive you away. Treated you like a plaything, took your kindness and patience and feelings for him for granted. Left you cold and alone in a hospital bed — unable to see you pale and half-dead all because you were so goddamn headstrong…

That had put it all in vicious perspective. That he couldn’t keep you safe; knowing him, following him, would surely end with you on a metal table rather than a clean hospital bed.

In hindsight, he knows it was as much for his own sake as yours, trying to force that emotional distance between you two. But he just… he can’t do it. Not again. Not you. You’d break him.

But he never meant for you to leave. Not really.

Maybe take an extended solo mission. Or just break off the romance of it all. Maybe you’d stay away for a while, give him time to sort out his feelings and shove the useless ones back into the pit they belong in.

He didn’t expect you to be gone as soon as you could stand.

“You said yourself, Simon, she’s too young and reckless. The 141 can’t afford to babysit her,” Price explained.

“She nearly got you killed, LT,” Soap pointed out. That was before he found out that you were gone for good, not just on disciplinary leave.

And when he did…

“No. No, she dinnae…” he wiped a hand down his face, eyes going a bit glassy. “Why? Why would she… didn’t we mean anythin’ to her? I know we were all a bit on the rocks but ‘s just cos she gave us a scare…”

Gaz took it the hardest, showing up most morning with red-rimmed, puffy eyes. He tried texting you a hundred times; they never went through.

He and Soap begged Price to reconsider, saying that he had no right to kick you out without consulting the rest of the squad.

“I just told her that she should consider transfer,” Price corrected, steely.

“Same fuckin’ thing, ain’t it?” Soap raged. “What else ‘s she gonna do when it’s her captain sayin’ it?”

And Price had finally crumbled, his stubbornness giving way to a clearer head and regret in the aftermath. Simon knew how he felt; had been haunted with the same gut-wrenching feeling for two weeks by that point.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have…” he wiped a hand down his face. “I’ll call Laswell, see if she can put us through.”

As it turned out, your new team had deployed you almost immediately. You were gone, relying on teammates you barely knew, and there was no guarantee when (or even if) you’d be reachable again.

When Laswell put Price through to your new captain instead, he scoffed down the line.

“That how the great John Price sends off his own?” He gruffed.

“I take care of my own,” Price replied, narrow-eyed.

“That’s explains it then, doesn’t it?” A shifting on the other end. “Well, she’s one of mine now, at least; better off that way I think.”

He was on speaker phone with the SpecGru captain. Shouldn’t have been, but it wasn’t a confidential call. So the rest of the 141 was there, vibrating with the effort to stay quiet.

Simon balled his hands into fists, arms crossed. He didn’t trust anyone with one of theirs. No, you belonged right there with the rest of the 141. They could keep you safe, keep you alive.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Price growled.

“Let me just ask you this, Price. And only because I need to know how to take care of her.” A pause, shuffling of papers. Something heavy and almost… hesitant in the silence before- “Did she always have this DNR order?”

Price’s office turned to ice. Simon’s entire shuddered, cored out. The arm of the chair Soap was occupying cracked. Gaz’s hand was covering his mouth, blood draining from his face.

“No,” Price answered, voice little more than rust.

A grunt on the other end.

“Thanks for the insight,” your new captain replied, sounding nonplussed. “At least you were good for something.”

The line droned, dead.

—

You’re standing with the rest of SpecGru, beaming like each and every one of them hung a star just for you. They orbit like you’re the sun, even Nikto, holding you in his arms, letting you lean back against him.

(You used to look at Simon like that. Used to let him hug you like that on the occasion he was weak and gave into the temptation to hold you.)

Every time he looks at you, it’s like a stranger with your face all over again.

You hold your shoulders differently. Tilt your head different. Have a certain control over your facial features better than any mask Simon’s donned.

Today you’re dressed down from your tac uniform. Specifically, your long-sleeve thermal has been replaced by a sleeveless gym shirt. It reveals that tattoo he caught only a glimpse of before — a big, intricate thing from your shoulder down your wrist.

(He and Johnny were going to go with you for your first tattoo. You asked them for all sort of recommendations. Enjoyed tracing Simon’s sleeve when he let you.)

There are more scars too. Burns, bullet grazes, jagged knife marks and patches from bad scrapes.

Nova is finishing up the wrapping on your hand, the other already done. You’re listening to something Russ is spouting off about, whatever it is making you laugh loud enough to be heard where Simon is lurking.

“C’mon,” Johnny says, bumping shoulders with Simon. “Know we fucked up yesterday, but we can try again. Maybe letting her beat the shite out of us will help clear the air, aye?”

Simon forces himself to look away. He already knows you won’t be glancing over.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Maybe.”

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