#where's Riley though?

[imababblekat]

•CW: food, reader eating a lot, slightly suggestive•

The guys have never seen a sweet thing like you eat before. It’s Friday night, y’all just got back from deployment, and ofc Johnny suggests going to a bar as a way to cool off from everything. And ofc, the guys can’t wait to get some actual real food in their guts. Naturally they’d say the same for you, only they could have never foreseen just how badly you craved for some real food. The waiter just dropped off your third basket of wings, you’re nearly done with your second, and the guys can’t stop staring at the way you just stuck a particularly meaty wing into your mouth, pulling it out bone fucking clean. Your eyes scour the small round table, and the guys think you’re about to get all shy and excuse yourself, except you just point at their own unfinished meals, with a “ya gonna finish that?”

Price is quickly thinking of every holiday where he can make you the perfect meal to make sure you’re good and wonderfully full.

Simon’s already got a whole wedding menu set up for the two of you, despite neither of you dating.

Kyle is somehow so flabbergasted and so enamored all at the same time.

Johnny has never wanted to be a chicken wing so badly in his life.

[cod-dump]

Teen!Ghost, staring at the tray of burnt cookies: I followed all the directions… I took them out when the timer went off!

Teen!Farah as Teen!Gaz coughs while fanning the smoke out the door with a towel: Simon, that was the fucking smoke alarm!

[kayvsworld]

god fatws is NOT a good show it DOES make no sense but it COMPELS me though

[natelia-aldelliz]

More werewolf au because I can :

Graves wasn't supposed to know about the werewolves, but Shepherd knew so maybe that's how he got the intel. As he's betraying them, he asks, almost begs, Soap to come with him, to join him against Alejandro and Ghost.

Alejandro because of the 'drug affiliation' thingy and his blatant dislike of Mexicans and Ghost because he's a monster. A beast, not even human. And he wants to protect Soap, believes him to be in danger, doesn't listen to Soap trying to de-escalate the situation, trying to ask him not to do that.

(Because he believes he knows what other people need more than them)

And Soap still has that very primal fear inside of him everytime he's around his the pack, that prey instinct that his predators are there, waiting for him to lower his guard. That's true, he does, he's even too scared to admit he's also not fully human.

But never, ever, has he considered betraying them, going against them in anyway. He wouldn't be a good cat if his fear of bigger predators wasn't overtaken by his very cocky very wrong feeling that he could take them all in a fight if he had to.

His cat-self was scared of their lycanthropic-selves, but he himself had never been scared of them as people. Well. Scared that they'd reject him, that they'd never consider him a member of the pack, yes. But scared that they'd hurt him? Not really.

Graves doesn't appreciate rejection, getting told no. He opens fire, Soap gets a bullet in his shoulder, Ghost begs him to get up and run.

He roams the streets with his head swimming from the blood loss, fighting against his instincts to just turn into a cat, curl up in a hole somewhere and lick his wounds, purring to himself to try and comfort the betrayed-hurt-helpless feeling in his gut.

But he can't, because he's not like the were-people, he's not a werecat, he doesn't heal faster. And his human biology makes surviving a bullet wound easier than the cat biology for some reason. (He tried, it just made him go in shock faster.) The hands keeping the blood from flowing freely definitely help for one. And what if Ghost contacts him and he can't respond and his LT thinks he's dead and leaves him here?

The Shadows are everywhere. The good thing is that his eyes see better in low light than theirs, than even the night vision helmets. His hearing is also better, though not as good as his cat-self's. That means he always knows where they are around him and he can avoid them.

When he's finally reunited with Ghost, the man keeps throwing him weird looks, but doesn't say anything. Soap can't really focus, he needs all his remaining blood doing actually important things and analysing your superior-officer-that-you've-been-lowkey-flirting-with's looks isn't one of these.

They reach Alejandro's safehouse, are reunited with Rudy, then Ghost sees him wobbling in place and drags him in the little medbay to see to his wounds. He gets stitches, incredibly thankful for Ghost's steady hands. As he finishes up though, his hands stay a bit longer on his shoulder, one of them climbs up to his ear and tugs it slightly, his eyes still staring.

Soap knows what he's doing, has seen Price lightly tug Gaz' and Ghost's (through the mask) ears, knows that it's a stand in for nipping them when they're in human form, as a way to say hello, or assert dominance or comfort them. Reserved for pack members.

Has... has he been accepted in the pack? His heart is beating faster, which isn't good with all the blood he's lost and the fact that the adrenaline is running out fast. His head is spinning. He looks up at Ghost with dilated eyes, trying to focus everything on him to try and understand before he passes out.

Ghost is looking straight at him, as usual, his head slowly tilting, his eyebrows furrowing in incomprehension. His peripherals are darkening more and more, darkness seeping in, and his eyes suddenly feel very hot while the rest of his body is getting cold and tingly.

Ghost's hand makes its way to the back of his neck, helping him hold his head up as his vision gets more and more blurry.

"What even are you?" Soap thinks he hears whispered as he finally loses consciousness.

[maelstrom007]

I've got the @ghouljams Fae!au brainrot, and I needed to write more about my OC Mal. This time, featuring ghoul's OC Love, and Fae!Ghost. Thank you so much for letting me borrow them! I hope I do them justice, and they're not too out of character. While it's implied that Mal already knows Witch (I think their friendship started well before this) I thought this was an interesting way to bring Mal into the darlings and 141's sphere of influence.

I hope you enjoy!

Mal stood at the far wall of their crafting space, studying their old leather bound notebook. It was an account of every project they’d ever undertaken here at the shop, filled to the brim with notes. Currently, it was open to the last commission on their list for this quarter, someone wanting a garment that would fill them with confidence after a particularly difficult time in their life. Before them stood several cones of yellow and orange cotton that they had dyed with this intention in mind. Now to decide what it would become. Mal closed their eyes, imagining the customer in their head, how their shoulders had hunched and neck sunk involuntarily. They needed something to straighten up, bring some height back into their frame. A jacket would do them nice. 

Mal took the cones to their warping board, a square frame with pegs hanging on the wall, and readied the yarn. Before they began Mal closed their eyes once again, taking deep breaths and pressing their bare feet firmly into the floor as they grounded themselves. Once they were settled, they imagined in their mind what their customer would look like in this new jacket. How their face would be full of warmth and joy, how much taller they would stand, the swagger and spring in their step as they walked. Mal let the feeling wash over them, filling themselves up with the giddy confidence. Full of energy, Mal began the warping process, tying an orange yarn to one peg and wrapping it around sequential pegs until it was as long as their fabric needed to be, then doubling back and following that same path back. 

Maintaining this confident headspace Mal continued on, occasionally switching between colors to create a shimmering ombre across the warp. This warp will act as the vertical threads when they weave the fabric later on tonight. Already they could see the gentle halo radiating off of the threads as the intent gets buried deeper and deeper. By the end it’ll be radiant like the sun. 

The slight jostle of someone attempting to open the front door made Mal accidentally skip a peg, breaking them out of their concentration. Immediately the halo of the current length they were working on dimmed, forcing them to backtrack and do their best to bring themselves back into the confident headspace. They didn’t really care if someone was at the door, there was no reason for anyone to be there and thus no reason to give them the time of day. Pick up was always reserved for the last week of the month, and they hadn’t pulled aside the heavy curtains hanging from the gutters that prevented humans from seeing the shop, and warned Fae from entering without an invitation. No, those get pulled when Mal’s commission list was empty and ready for new customers. Which it wasn’t. 

The jostle returns again and only a well timed breath keeps the bubbling anger from making its way into the warp. They tied it off and stepped away with a sigh. They couldn’t afford to keep having their concentration disrupted by the mystery person at the door. 

Opening the door reveals a girl, smiling brightly, “Hey, I think your doors locked.”

“It’s not,” Mal replies. Not in the physical sense anyway. Witch’s wards are strong and clever like that. Although they will have to check up on the curtains outside. Nobody should have been able to find their shop with them pulled shut, although now there was a clear section that was pulled to the side where the girl seemingly forced her way through. Those damn Moth’s were probably nibbling on it again. 

The girl stares at them for a moment, as if expecting them to say more. Evidently the silence becomes too long as she presses on, “Aren’t you going to let me in?” 

“Why would you want in?”

“Because you’re a business? And I’d like to do business here?” The exasperated look on the girl's face is enough to set Mal’s teeth on edge. 

“Pushy aren’t you?”

“Yes. Now come on, I want to get something nice for my boyfriend and he’s going to pick me up any minute now.”

Something about the girl’s big, insistent eyes made Mal’s resolve crack, “Fine. You’ve caught me in an indulgent mood.” Mal turned around, walking back towards the counter, “What are you thinking of?”

When the girl didn’t immediately follow they turned around again, only to see her seemingly stuck mid stride, foot unable or unwilling to touch the hardwood floor of the storefront. Curious. The girl seemed perfectly human to them, but looks could be deceiving. 

“You’re welcome in, for this transaction,” her foot fell with a solid thump, and she continued walking in as if nothing had happened.

“So I’d like to get something for my boyfriend.”

Mal settled in and flipped their notebook to a new page, “So you’ve said.”

“Yeah, well I know that he likes to cover up a lot, but recently his gloves have been falling apart and what with Winter coming up I don’t want his hands to be cold-”

As the girl talked, Mal kept a close eye on her chest, watching for any tethers that shone brighter than the others. Humans, and sometimes Fae, had a hard time deciding what their real intent was for a gift, and sifting through their tethers was always easier than getting it out of them through words. Except that the more this girl talked, the more her chest started to light up like a god damn christmas tree. She was tangled and pierced and snared on so many hooks it was almost distressing, and one in particular burned so bright it almost hurt Mal’s eyes to look at.

“Excuse me,” Mal interrupted her, “but may I?” they said, pointing towards the brightly glowing tether at the center of her chest. 

“Uh, sure,” she said, slightly confused but trusting all the same. 

Reaching out they gently snagged the tether with the tip of their pinky finger. Even with that small amount of contact all they could think of was LOVE LOVE LOVE. So much love, and passion, and desperation, and protectiveness. 

Within the next second, Mal’s ears popped as air that used to be in the space behind the girl forcibly vacated in favor of someone apparating there in its place. Mal stumbled back, eyebrows raised in shock as the absolutely massive fucker came into focus. Piercing brown eyes peered out through a pale white skull mask, with one hand wrapping protectively around the girl's chest and the other landing solidly on the table creating an effective barrier between them and Mal. 

“What’s wrong, Love?” The man's voice was deep, and although he was addressing the girl, (the capital L was obvious in his tone) his eyes never left Mal’s. 

“Well I was going to get you a surprise gift, but I guess that’s not happening anymore.”

“Why were they touching you.”

Mal straightened, “I received permission, if that is your concern. I was only attempting to see what her true intent was for this gift.” Despite the way he was glaring, Mal could tell this man didn’t think they were a threat, at least not physically.

On closer inspection the guys gloves did look as if they were threadbare, ready to fall apart if a stiff breeze came through. He was fae, no doubt about it, and even his human form commanded respect. Mal could see the shimmery effect of the fae’s obscura, hinting at a much larger and much more. . .sinister silhouette. They could do better, break up the outline of his body like camo on a soldier's fatigues, but something told them that he wouldn’t appreciate being upsold at the moment.

“And what was my intention?” Love looked almost giddy to know, leaning over the counter top with a manic grin on her face. 

Mal quickly looked between Love and the man, trying to gauge the pro’s and con’s of this whole interaction. 

“Go on,” he said. 

“Well, it seemed like Love here wanted to stake a claim on you. To possess and protect you as much as you do her.” 

Like a seesaw, Love rocked backwards into the man's embrace, wrapping her arms up around his neck and giggling, “Yeah, I guess I am a little obsessed with you.”

For once he looked a little bit out of his depth, and once again Mal almost had to shield their eyes from the sun that seemed to light up between the two. Jesus these two were co dependent as all hell. 

“So,” Mal said, desperate to get this conversation over with, “any design you want in particular?”

“Oh, right, I think his gloves should be dark black, with white details that look like finger and hand bones. And can you make them really warm and soft? Am I asking for too much? You’ll tell me if it’s too much right? Also-”

Mal dutifully took notes, not even attempting to get a word in edgewise as Love rambled on. Briefly looking up, Mal saw the masked man curled contentedly around and over top Love’s much smaller form like a mountain sized cat. It was hard to find him intimidating now that his eyes were full of love and adoration. 

What a strange pair indeed.

[emberphantom]

 “...That’s another reason why this Soap and Ghost relationship works, right--is that, for whatever reason, y’know--that doesn’t need to be talked abut now...but--Ghost has, well it’s clear that Ghost has a huge amount of respect for Soap, right? And he wouldn’t let anybody--in fact, for anybody else to talk to him the way Soap does would mean a different thing--but they’ve been through a lot together. But what’s great about that moment--and I’m glad you brought it up Neil-- it that [Ghost and Soap] are pushing each other to evolve without even realizing it. And for Soap to say something like that costs something for him. And for Ghost to correct the record and say what he says, that costs something too. And I think, again, that’s why this game is so satisfying is these characters--they’re going to places they’ve not been before. But they help each other get there. And I think that’s a good theme that’s come out from this game is that, you know, they need each other.” 

-Samuel Roukin on Ghost and Soap in MWII (x)

Honestly, one of my favorite parts of that interview from yesterday. Not even from a shipping stand point, but Samuel just like seems to get it when it comes to what makes Ghost and Soap scratch at everyone’s brains and I think that’s awesome. 

[appalachianapologies]

[random drabble to get you through the day]

“I was able to hack her stuff pretty easily.”

“That didn’t take long.” 

Riley sends Mac a look. “I’m sorry, have we met? Riley Davis, hacker extraordinaire.”

Rolling his eyes, Mac replies, “You know what I mean. What’d you find?”

“The usual. For a double or triple or quadruple—or whatever type of agent she is—Nikki doesn’t encrypt her files as much as she should. I’ve already sent the juicy stuff to Patty.”

“Nice.” Giving a nod, Mac pulls a spare wheeled chair toward Riley’s desk and sits down. “What’re you doing now, then?”

“Oh, just having some fun.”

“Should I ask?”

“Probably not, but I’ll tell you anyway.”

With a poorly contained smile, Mac says, “Go for it.”

“After getting the goods out of her laptop, I hacked into her phone. Weakest wifi password in the history of ever, by the way.”

“Noted.”

“And she’s been listening to Spotify for the past three or so hours, so if I were to guess, she’s probably doing some other task while listening to music in the background.”

Mac gives another nod, still not exactly sure where this is going.

“So, like I said, I decided to have a little fun, and I wrote up some quick code this morning before you and Jack got here.”

“Code for what?”

“Basically,” Riley starts, “I made it so randomly in the middle of her songs, Spotify will pause itself.”

“Is that… it?”

“Yep.”

“Riley, what the fuck?”

Turning her head away from the monitor, she looks at Mac. “What, I can’t have some fun? When I wasn’t doing hacktivist stuff, this is basically all I’d do.”

A stuttered laugh escapes Mac before he can stop it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of you.”

“She’s been dormant for a while,” Riley confirms, “but I think it’s time I bring that part of me back.”

[toomanywordsnllines]

You know I once went to a family gathering (mostly consisting of cousins aunt's and uncles all blood related to my mother's side only) and there were like... around a 100 people there  (no I am not kidding.)

So projecting as I like to do.

That's Soap with his family, like when he says he has a big fam HE MEANS BIG.

He’s talking about a 100+ amount of people just on his mother’s side.

The first time he takes Ghost to one of these gatherings Soap’s like 'oh so that's aunt Hannah and her seven kids-'

Ghost is nodding along... Baffled to say the least, also extremely confused on how there can be so many people in just on family

[beheadedcousins]

okay, i've been thinking about this since I read it earlier, and the changes past farrah make sense

since preston said that the captain of the team that riley's speeches in that were the most authentic glimpse into her life, it makes sense for riley to have the every test you failed line

and of course chess getting the teams one cause of her not making the olympic team

[lungthief]

as someone who is Not Normal about the killers it does get a little bit funny that so many people think that theyre a british band—which is a completely fair assumption given their popularity in the uk and if (like most people) youve only really heard the popular singles off of hot fuss, the sound is obviously very heavily influenced by british pop/glam rock and songs like mr brightside and somebody told me don’t really have any uniquely american imagery or anything—but almost the entire rest of their discography is such a love letter to america and picks apart pieces of the american experience and is so deeply rooted in the political and cultural and physical landscape of the usa that idk. it feels like saying on the road takes place in ireland or something

[ivorydragoness44]

Looking for the motivation to write at the moment...

[monitorkernelaccess]

sometimes I remember that preston max allen tweet that’s like “well at least in MY musical, the teenager actually faces consequences for her actions” (vagueing dear evan hansen) and it’s like. well yeah riley did kill two people so

[jekyllnahyena]

Have you wonder what it would be like if ghost had a kid with partners! Like I know the war going on and stuff but after. I’m just picturing a two year old not yet potty trained in a unicorn onesie, a bottle in one hand and blanket in the other. They are wearing a skull mask like there father! And there either gonna take a nap or fight the great marker! Also I can just picture that angry child having ghost is death stare and even ghost is like I’m not fighting that! They are ONLY TWO! 

Sdgjfkkdjjsjnjf

OK, first off, the image of angry Ghost with angry toddler in his arms is absolutely hilarious. Kiddo angrily holding a bottle in hand while Ghost angrily holds onto angry baby while both glare is just. Mwuah. Chefs Kiss.

On a more serious note though, I have thought about them with kids and it's not looking too promising tbh😅

Look, all three of them get send all over the galaxy for missions and the like, it's not simply the war that's keeping them apart, it's been that way even before. They all were a team, doesn't mean they were together always. There have been weeks before Reg and Ghost saw each other again. Same with Soap. I doubt that any of them will stop after the war, they may have found domesticy with each other, but they live and breathe their work. And all three of them are very aware how easy it is to simply not come back from that. They wouldn't do that to a kid, that is not an environment any of them would put one through.

Also, family is a sore point, at least for both Reg and Ghost, and Reg does not plan on having biological kids, which will sadly mean no toddler in the house as neither Ghost nor Soap would want to involve another person from the outside. (all of them a terrible trust issues unless you've maybe almost died in each other's arms already) They'd need to actively adopt for it to happen, and like I said, very unlikely.

It's why Ghost sorta weirdly adopting his commando works. My dude is like 39, the commando is about 18 to 20 at the start of the war. They can be his kids in a way. He'd be a lot more comfortable with that idea, they're adults already, but he can be there for them, a parental figure in all of that mess.

The only way I could ever see them having an actual Child is by one of them finding someone on a mission, but that needs a lot of circumstances to align perfectly for them to decide and take the kid with them. Soap would be the most likely, he has a big family and he's thought the most about children of his own, but is very aware that it's just not feasible. Not unless one of them decides to become a stay at home parent, which. Very, very unlikely.

So, as absolutely adorable and hilarious the image of Ghost with bebe is, him continuing to come home with a grown ass dude, very unaware that he keeps turning more and more into a dad, will have to do.

(I'm honestly playing more and more with the idea of him walking into the flat, holding up a slightly delirious but very explicitly cursing Fox like Simba and telling Soap and Reg that he found her passed out in some backalley. And that's how Fox gets three murder parents. Or just the whole guard. Who knows what funky ideas the future brings.)

[oveliagirlhaditright]

I'm reading the "The Journals of Rupert Giles," which is a novelization of "Helpless," "New Man," and "Blood Ties" (and all three episodes happen to be about birthdays of Buffy's), and I just... it's giving me negative feelings about Buffy and Riley.

And I'm going to sound like a broken record here, I know, because I'm going to be echoing things the fandom has said numerous times (and for good reason), but here I go, anyway.

(Though I'd still like to note that I definitely don't hate Riley Finn as a character, and I don't hate him and Buffy together. That's a strong word, as I definitely think that Buffy had to go through that sort of a normal relationship in that part of her arc.)

But first of all, at least in this novelization here, Buffy is comparing Riley to Angel in her head (and you can tell, of course, that deep down she wants to be with Angel, even though she can't) even more than we thought she was. And even at the start of her and Riley's relationship, when things were probably their best. And that's just sad and makes me feel for my girl, of course.

Though that's not what really gets me. What really gets me is from the get-go just how much Buffy is worrying that Riley is going to be offended that she's stronger than him, or whatever. And that she's making herself lesser to try and please him (like when she holds back when they're sparring. Though, to be fair, she may have had to, since he's a human and she's the Slayer). But she's just constantly worrying about how things are going to go over with him, and how he's going to feel about who she is. And, I mean, we saw this in the show. But there's even more of it when we're in her headspace.

And it's just a complete contrast to when Buffy and Angel spar in "Helpless," where he's "completely down with her being her bad self" (something like that is pretty much an exact quote from the book). And Buffy is so relieved that she can completely let loose with him, unlike most anyone else. (And, again, I know Buffy probably couldn't do this with Riley for his own safety, so it's probably unfair to judge that.) But "Angel is as graceful in defeat as he is in victory" (another quote from the book), and is glad when she wins their sparring matches, because: you know: It means that a vamp or any other beast from Hell probably won't get the drop on her? Meanwhile, when Buffy wins against Riley, he's telling Buffy to give him a few weeks and he can probably take her. Gah!

[pokemonruby]

finished the demo for octopath 2... i’m going to throw up i don’t think i can wait another 2 or something weeks guys. it’s so fucking good so far 

[tarnishedhalo]

a loveless marriage - oh no wait, we already have that.

The USS Make-Shit-Up || Accepting

"G, puh-leese. You ain't gonna find a badge bunny anywhere in the world that could do you in any way better than I could and I don't even want you to cuddle or call me in the morning. That being said. You comin' to dinner tonight, or do you actually have plans that don't include me?"