#“Is that fucking fish Jenga?”
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#honestly now I wanna to go rewatch all the Sam O'Nella vids-#“Is that fucking fish Jenga?”#the owl house#toh#textpost memes#emperor belos
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When I was younger, I thought board games were called that because they were games you played when you were BORED. Not because you play them. On a BOARD.
#hersh talks#i dont remember when i realized thats not why theyre called that#but it was embarrassing late in my life.#i think another reason for that logic besides being pretty fucking dumb#is bc some people in my life called jenga a board game??? you dont play that on a board like wtf#i think ive also heard people refer to go fish as a board game?????#and i always played those games when there wasnt anything else to do
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dating cc!foolish and cc!sapnap headcanons? separately, not like a poly relationship
Foolish! My beloved. Even though I know like nothing about him lmao.
Cc!Foolish dating HCs
Foolish x GN!reader
Himboooooooo
He's a sweet boy though.
A single kiss on the cheek or forehead or anywhere and he stops whatever he is doing and asks for more.
He loooooves pet names. Give pet names and being called pet names. He loves pet names.
If you call him by his real name or god forbid his full name, hes instantly like "did I do something wrong? What happened?"
Manz has no clue on how to plan a date. You have to plan them all.
He makes up with his shittoy date planning skills with amazing gift giving skills.
His love language is gift giving, words of affirmation, and physical affection.
He brings in random animals all the time. He once brought in a raccoon. You had to sweep it out.
His favorite dates are gaming dates. He likes to run off and build you something and then drag to to see it.
I love him.
Cc!Sapnap dating hcs
Sapnap x gn!reader
He calls you darlin. Sorry not sorry.
He likes to cuddle. When you guys do cuddle he liked to send you tik toks even though you guys are on top of eachother.
He likes to cary you around. You are his royalty.
He also like to feed you. He will silently press a M&M to your lips and wait.
He dose not have a single romantic bone in his body. But we love him. Hes doing great.
He loves dates but like Foolish, he has no idea how to plan one. Hes tried but they are usually just watching movies.
He also loves PDA. Hes a lovely baby.
He'll come running to you like. "BABE!" And show you a video of people petting otter paws.
You two just reference things back and fourth to eachother.
He seems like the kind of guy to like Sam O'nella. He especially likes to references "is that fucking fish jenga!?"
No I will not explain that.
He likes scaring you around the house. Hes always running up behind you and yelling.
He loves pranking with you. George and Dream are never safe.
Has probably gotten sick and instead of telling you like a normal person he goes "babe.... I fuw up..."
Idk man, I'm trying.
#sapnap x male reader#sapnap x you#sapnap x reader#sapnap x y/n#sapnap#sapnap x gn!reader#sapnap x masc!reader#sapnap x fem!reader#sapnap hc#sapnap headcanons#headcanons#foolish gamers#cc!sapnap#cc!foolish#dsmp foolish#dream smp foolish#foolish x y/n#foolish x you#foolish x reader#foolish x male reader#foolish x fem!reader#foolish x gn!reader#foolish headcanons#dsmp fic#headcanon#dsmp sapnap#im tired
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Establishment (Jitters Remastered)
Chapter 3 of the Jitters Remastered Book
Find it on AO3
Summary:
Jitters is a PMC brought onto the support 141 operations, much to the distaste of the 141 group of PMC's. As she is brought to her new home with the 141, the tension can be cut with a knife. The question is, will she be able to grow roots here?
Today the 141 teams would be leaving after a mission well-done. Their success echoed around the base until the late hours of the morning. Creating shifts of soldiers to celebrate once again another green tick.
A job well done.
She sat on her cot, cradling her hand and wincing as she flexed her fingers. A dark purple bruise had cascaded the way across her knuckles and spread through her hand like gangrene eating her flesh.
A solid purple bruise had blossomed on her cheek, but other than that her face had been left unscathed.
Must've been because Miles could throw punches like a child.
Getting ready in the mornings had never been her favorite part of the day, quite frankly dreading them in their entirety. Her body ached, and she knew Price wanted to meet with her once more before he departed.
"And I'll watch you back."
His words bounced around the interior of her skull, mulling over his words. She spilled her guts, and gutted herself like a fish while the two men in the room gave her blank, stoic gazes.
It was unnerving, to say the least. It made her feel powerless, to the highest degree to have the worst failures of her life splayed across the table for someone to pick through and analyze.
Walking through the hallways passing other soldiers milling about to reach their tasks, she stood in front of the doorway to Gulch's office, where Pice was no doubt waiting for her inside. It made her stomach do flips, fighting with itself as she stared at the knob.
Reaching her hand out and pushing the door open she stepped in.
It was time to finalize her paperwork.
...
Signing papers with a fucked up hand was misery on its own degree. Not that they really needed her signature- all Price had to do was call Laswell, kick his feet in the air and ask 'Pretty please?'.
Not that he did that in front of her-
she just assumed he did that before she came in, of course.
Leaving the office and closing the door behind her, she was met face-to-chest with MacTavish's chest. Looking up she was met with an almost amused look. Before she could apologize, or do anything really he had lifted her hand to inspect the damage from her fight.
"You're a little ripper, arent ya'?" He asked, not expecting a response.
"uh." Was all she blurted out, not knowing how to respond.
"You're gonna break something throwin' punches like that, ya' know." He stated matter-of-factly.
"Yea." She agreed, looking down at her feet. He radiated something that made her shift her feet in discomfort, a distinct 'you don't belong around me' she supposed is what pushed off of him in waves
"Lost a pack of cigs, surprised the lot." He spoke again.
She looked up at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I bet against you."
"Oh."
"Beat the piss outta him, gave him a proper whopping."
"I guess." She mumbled.
"You getting reprimanded again this early in the morning?"
"...No." She paused, taking a moment to respond. Was she supposed to be? Did she mess up by saying no?
"Heard the medics talking saying you broke Miles's jaw."
She didn't respond.
"Just know what real fights don't work like that, little lass. If you'd been in real danger you'd be dead." And with his last words, he pushed in the door to the office and left her awkwardly standing there, not really knowing how to respond.
...
Packing, it was almost like she was leaving for college. All of her belongings fit into a duffel back, save for a separate backpack to hold electronics and her laptop. rather than trying to stuff an entire bedroom into the back of her car to then try and jenga into a dorm room.
She'd only even flown in a helicopter one other time, this one was bigger. Multiple people were in it with her, as they'd stop to refuel they would periodically drop someone off, until it was only her and the pilot sitting in the chopper together. She tried to keep quiet, the pillow didn't seem very talkative, shooting down any attempts she had made previously to drum up some small talk.
They didn't tell her where she was going, only that she would be meeting up with Captain Price at the new base she had been stationed at. It was strange, she had yet to get a call from Laswell, another summer camp speech.
Don't screw this up,
you'll regret it.
Somewhere within the course of traveling, she had begun to nod off, every once and a while opening her eyes to find themselves flying over unidentifiable landmarks. When she landed, she grabbed both of her bags and climbed out, making her way onto the tarmac trying to avoid the deafening sound of the blades beating the air into submission.
There weren't many places for her to go, a singular building- kind of similar to a government building but smaller. Minimal windows. Debating in her head what it looked like.
School? No. Not enough windows.
You know what. It looked like an auto shop.
The large hangar/garage is tacked onto the side of the building. That is what it looked like she decided. Walking up to it, awkwardly holding her two bags she looked back in an attempt to find the pilot to see where he went.
He was gone.
"Call me a Debbie downer but isn't it a liability to fuckin' leave someone stranded on a military base?" She grumbled under her breath.
The hangar door was wide open, opting to just brave it and step inside, she looked around and didn't see anyone- no movement for that matter.
"Hello?" She called out.
Some scuffling could be heard, as well as the sound of metal dropping on something. Two pairs of footsteps and two bodies emerged.
"Oi! Jitters!'
Gaz.
They were on the second story, up on a metal walkway that led to what she assumed to be a storage area. She gave an awkward nod and looked around.
"They kinda just ditched me, dude, I don't know where to go?" She calls up to him.
"The fuck are you doing here?" MacTavish asks. She couldn't read the tone of his voice- which worried her. She knew that he didn't like her- but was hoping for at least a semi-smooth transition.
"What's with all this bloody yelling?" She heard another voice chime in, this time from the ground floor.
Ghost.
He was still wearing basically the same thing she last saw him in, less for a vest- a lot of weapons and blood.
Jitters locked eyes with Ghost, not intentionally she'd internally defend herself. But once their eyes met she felt as if she couldn't look away. His eyes bore into her soul. Her feet felt like they were anchored to the floor below her.
"Fucking hell..." Ghost mumbles, walking away and disappearing into a hallway.
As if a trance was broken, she looked back up to Gaz and he gave her a shrug. "You looking for Cap?"
"Yea." She said.
"I'll show ya." He shot her a small smile before walking across a pathway, descending down a flight of stairs, and meeting up with her.
He lead her through the base, corner here, corner there, until he came up to a door. Knocking on it twice he nodded her in. She gave him a grateful smile and stepped in, smoke danced in the stagnant air of the office. Price sitting at his desk chair fingering through the paperwork. Manila folders with various stamps and stickers on them.
"Jitters." Price said, standing up and extending a hand. She took it, engaging in a short handshake. "Glad you made it."
"Yea. Thanks for having me."
"Remember, I'll have your back." He reminded her.
She nodded.
"We don't have a room yet that can be explicitly used for your office yet, but rest assured we will be working on it. We don't have any planned missions that will need your assistance for a week, maybe two. So it'll give you some time to settle in." He explains.
"Ok."
"You'll have your own room and bathroom."
Bathroom.
She perked up at that.
He must have noticed because the distinct sound of a chuckle rising out of his chest filled the room. "Thought you'd enjoy that bit."
"That's definitely a perk." She exhales.
"Perks of working with the best." He shrugged. "Alright, you'll need to get acquainted with the team- someone can show you your room and you can get settled.
She nods. "I uh- Gaz showed me, to here. I don't how to how get back." She tried to explain.
Price started laughing again. "'s Alright. I forget the labyrinth this place can be sometimes. I'll get one of the lads to show you around."
"Ok."
The two of them stood up, Jitters picking up both of her bags and the following Price out of the door. Almost as if it was pre-planned, MacTavish walked bast carrying a large duffel bag of something in his left hand.
"Soap." Price called out.
Mactavish stopped and looked at him "Yes Cap?"
"Do me a favor, show Jitters around n' show her to her new quarters."
"Aye, will do."
God, this place is so British it hurts.
Soap?
Why did he call him Soap?
Price had already closed the door to his office, and Jitters looked at MacTavish.
"Well are you gonna keep standing there?" He asked.
"Um, no, sorry- shit." She lifted her bags again and walked up to him, beginning to follow him as he navigated through the hallways.
"Your room is going to be in between Gaz and I's." He explains. "We normally keep a room in between us for privacy, but things don't always work out how we'd like." There was a twang in his voice, reinforcing that idea-
we don't want you here.
"Ok." She says, trying to keep up with him. "What're you carrying?" She eyes the bag again, the way it strains off of the straps makes her assume it has to be something heavy.
"Explosives." He states.
"Oh." She regrets that she even asked.
They continued to walk in silence for a bit.
"Why did Price call you Soap?" She asks.
"It's my callsign- nickname." He explains. "Same reason why you're called Jitters."
"So how'd you earn the name Soap?" She asked.
"Classified."
"Can't imagine it's as bad a Jitters." She laughs to herself- lightly. Trying to fill the awkward void.
"Here's your room." He stops, and throws his thumb back to the door next to him.
"Thanks." She looks at the door, then to him, then back at the door. "You get situated, I'll come back 'round dinner and take you to the mess."
"Ok. Thank you." She enters her new room and looks at the four walls and the doorway into the bathroom.
It wasn't a luxury hotel or anything, but it was better than previous stays she'd been in. Simple bed- twin size it seemed. Better than the cots she was sleeping on beforehand, cording stringing together a thick piece of canvas and suspending it onto a platform.
Like a really uncomfortable, scratchy trampoline.
Setting her two bags down she rested her hands on her hips and looked around.
Pillow.
Sheet.
Lamp.
Ok.... She could work with this.
With the large quantity of things she had she mused.
Opting to take a shower, and lay on her new bed, staring at the ceiling until Soap came to knock on her door.
She opened the door and gave him a courteous smile. "Hi Soap."
"Hi, Jitters." He replied in the same tone. "Let's head to the mess.
"So, dish soap? Or like Fabuloso?" She said, trying to break the silence as they walked.
"Don't know what Fabuloso is. Neither." He replied, keeping his pace ahead of her.
He didn't really respond, giving her a 'hm.' in response.
"You know, there was this guy at a mission I went on called bubbles. It was because he was always super snotty- but one day he was taking a nap and blew up the grossest snot bubble on his face. Dude was like a bubble machine-"
"Dear god, kid." He seethes, looking at her. "Try bein' quiet."
"Never thought I'd hear those words outta your mouth, Johnny."
Jitters quickly looked behind her to see Ghost walking up behind them. Soap groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand. "I don't need shit from you now, too."
Jitters looked down at her feet and continued to follow the two the rest of the way to dinner.
She didn't know what she was really expecting for dinner- normally bases would have designated cooks, and they'd cook large quantity meals. Spaghetti with an essence of sauce, maybe some salad, weird shit with rice.
She wasn't really expecting a simple, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and chicken? She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten meat that was recognizable. It was surprisingly domestic- big, scary, military task force sitting at a table next to a pretty basic-looking kitchen.
The table was large enough to seat six, and it was serve-yourself.
Suppose it was just a perk of being some of the best of the best. She's sure they made up for it with grueling missions and limited rations.
Fuck she hated MREs.
It was almost comedic, how much food Soap piled onto his plate before he sat down and started going to town on it. She went through the line, grabbed a plate, and portioned out what she'd consider a normal amount of food, and a biscuit.
With a glass of water, a plate, and a fork she sat down and started eating. Trying to ignore the sounds of Soap devouring the food next to her. She noticed Ghost took his food, and left for somewhere- she assumed he would probably eat in his room. It seemed like it would be decently difficult to eat with a Halloween decoration stitched onto your face.
Gaz must've noticed her eyes lingering on the hallway Ghost left out of.
"It's normal, he's too good to eat with us." He joked.
She looked down at her food, nodded, and began to eat.
Price joined them a little while later, made his plate and joined the three of them at the table.
It was strangely peaceful in a way.
It made her realize yea, they were soldiers but they were only human.
"That all you're gonna eat?" Price asked her, sitting down with a decently sized plate himself.
"Yea..." She said, taking a bite of mashed potatoes.
"No wonder you got your ass thrown around in that fight, you eat like a little bird." Soap piped in.
"I won that fight." She said, taking a sip of water.
"Not well." Price responded.
oh.
She didn't know if she should be disgusted with how much Soap ate, or astonished because the man was already up and making a second plate.
"So, seems you're going to be a part of the team, we'll be doing training, basic sparring, the works- assuming your attending," Gaz spoke.
"Oh, I didn't-"
"Should probably learn how to throw a proper punch." Soap joked.
"Thought I did fine." Jitters mumbled.
"Definitely put the fear of god into that guy." Gaz agreed.
"It was a dirty schoolyard fight." Price piped in. "It only worked because he was 'bout as big as her."
"Let's throw 'er at Ghost." Soap laughed out.
"Yea, traumatize the poor child before she's been here for more than a week." Gaz sarcastically agreed. "You did fight pretty dirty." He pointed his fork at Jitters.
"Didn't know it was supposed to be a fair fight- didn't exactly want to do it ya' know."
"Fair fight or not, sometimes all that matters is you win." Price added.
"I bet ya' I could still mop tha' floor with ya-." Soap said.
"Ok? And? You're probably a hundred pounds more than me- you're what, at least six-one. That's like me going out and kicking kindergartners and going 'Yea! I could mop the floor with this whole lot'!" She added a (not very good) Scottish accent at the end for good measure.
The room was filled with laughter, and for a short bit, the feelings of loneliness faded away.
Maybe establishing here wouldn't be too hard.
#jitters au#cod mwii#john price#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#gaz garrick#cod#simon riley x oc#John 'Soap' Mactavish x oc#Female OC#Simon Riley x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#kyle garrick x reader#task force 141#kyle garrick#call of duty mw2#gaz mw2
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Is that fucking fish jenga?
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is that fucking fish jenga
#i remember having this as my discord nickname once#dunno whether this is a slushii rambles or a slushiis shitposts moment
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What’s a favorite game they play (board, card, truth or dare etc)
The boys would love any strategy game. I feel like they’d have 16 hour D&D campaigns (I don’t actually know how D&D works this is just a feeling I have) and would also be very intense about Uno.
The girls would love Clue and card games.
The whole squad would be very chaotic playing Monopoly, Jenga and Twister, like I can see them being oh so chaotic and nearly killing each other over Monopoly.
Also their games of Headbandz and Pictionary are LEGENDARY for dumb moments and proving who has the 3 brain cells in the group, especially when they play in small teams
A Headbandz snippet:
“Am I a fish?”
“No.”
“Am I aquatic?”
“No.”
“I’m a turtle!”
“No, you’re not aquatic.”
“I’m a shark!”
“No, you’re not aquatic!”
“I’m a seahorse!”
“YOU’RE NOT FUCKING AQUATIC YOU DUMB BI-“
“TIME!”
#winx club#winx rewrite#winx#winx headcannon#winx fanfic#winx headcanons#winx stella#winx headcannons#winx club rewrite#winx headcanon
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I will happily listen to you talk about r all day. tell me more about him. just-a-guy characteristics. anything. mundane facts. how does he take his tea? what color are his sheets? favorite shoes? I'll be the outlet
omg hi bab xx i know you sent this yesterday but i saved it for today because i am currently halfway through a long car journey and needed something to do xx and this is my favourite thing to do!! as far as im concerned he takes his tea with just a little bit of milk, no sugar…i think he buys cheap low thread count sheets in boring colours…your whites your navys your greys. and his shoes are like…lace-up grandpa shoes xx he definitely has slippers as i said before he’s such a dressing gown guy such a slipper guy such a snork mimimi guy. also so important to me is his dislike of apparation. he hates doing it it makes him sooo nauseous and ill it makes him throw up…he would rather travel for hours from place to place than apparate in seconds. idk man he just lies his way through life he spends years and years perfecting this skin he puts on like a coat his entire social standing hinges on this performance of his own identity and then also there’s just this boy. who just fucks it all up!! like a fucking game of jenga like shaking him by the ankle and seeing what tumbled out…there’s this guy he’s faced with and suddenly he just. can’t lie about him/to him….like that’s sooo fucking insane he’s like a pebble in his shoe. i need to be a dog so i can have him in my jaw and shake my head vigorously i need to fish him out of a gutter. i need to watch him eat a little crumb of bread and drink something out of a thimble. i need to chew on him i need to hang him from a peg by the scruff of his jumper like. he’s like if a mitten was a pencil was a guy pretending to be a glove
#sorry this is so incoherent thank you for being my outlet <3#need to write this rpov fic. need to get back i. his messy little head and make him do things. this is my everest#easier to post this with a broken dash. less embarrassing. if i can’t see it on the dash then it’s not really there innit#if a tree falls in a forest….if i make an r post and there’s no one around to read it….#telegram#anon#r
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Vampires Will Never Hurt You (Harry Styles)
Chapter 11
⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
After a large dinner - much larger than any of us should have eaten - we were stuffed. And bored. So we decided to whip out the world's best board game: Life. I sat on the couch next to Donna, as Harry and Louis sat parallel to us on the other side of the coffee table as Eleanor and Charlie sat on opposite sides of the far ends of the table.
"Louis I swear to god if you sue me one more fucking time I will stop your paychecks. I don't care anymore, this is a personal offense!" I screamed at Louis, who had now landed on every single lawsuit spot and sued me every single time.
"This is why we don't let her play bank," Charlie muttered to Harry, who had supported my decision in being the bank manager.
"I'm sorry! I didn't know!" Harry exclaimed, amused.
Meanwhile, Donna was making major bank beside me, with a couple million dollars, 4 kids, and almost at retirement. Of course I could have been winning if it wasn't for that Louis somehow landing on every lawsuit spot and targeting me, goddamn that little bastard.
"Ok, why don't we take a break?" Louis suggested, taking note of how fired up I was getting.
"Oh, I'm sure you'd like to take a break Mr. Big Bucks," I muttered quietly before Donna elbowed my ribs.
I was going to continue voicing my complaints, but before I could, my brother bounded into the room. "Guys guys! I'm going to a party!"
"That's cool Leo, who's?" Eleanor asked, packing up the board game.
"I don't know. But I'm going. I heard it's gonna be like super crazy do you guys wanna come with?" Leonard breathed out in one fluid motion.
"You don't know who's - never mind. No thanks, I was just about to pull out Jenga, and you know how we love our Jenga," Donna assisted Eleanor with cleaning as she spoke. I continued to pout in the corner of the L-shaped couch.
Harry came and sat next to me. "Are you any good at Jenga?"
I dropped a bit of my pouty demeanor, not wanting to overdo it, "meh, I'm alright."
"Yeah, I'm not too good at it either," I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them as he continued. "How about that party Leo was talking about?"
"Maybe later."
⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
After about an hour of a comically boring game of Jenga, Eleanor received a call.
"Dude! You guys totally gotta get down here! Something crazy just happened! I gotta tell you all about- What? Oh shit! Shit!," Leonard spoke to someone in the background then hung up.
"What do you think happened? Jane asked.
"No idea. But I don't trust that asshat alone at a party like that. I'm gonna head to the party to check on him." Eleanor got up from the couch, nearly knocking over the Jenga tower in the meantime. She grabbed a jacket from a chair in the kitchen and put it on.
"Ooh! I wanna come!" I exclaimed, jumping up and scrambling to the kitchen to get my shoes on.
"I guess if she's going, I'll go too," Donna added, joining us in the kitchen.
"I'll go too," Harry chimed in, Louis following close behind him.
"Well, we might as well all go, then, come on, Jane," Charlie added, pulling Jane into the plans. Once we all gathered our belongings, we went outside.
Harry leaned toward me, "how is everyone going to fit into one car?"
"You're right, we should probably take two cars," I replied, fishing my keys out of my pocket. I glanced over at the rest of the group, seeing Louis and Charlie engaged in a conversation. "He'll be fine with them, right?" I asked Harry in regards to his friend.
"Oh yeah, he's super friendly, he could become friends with anyone. Plus, our job practically is to keep people entertained," he replied. Harry followed me to my car, parked just around the corner of the house. I nodded, deciding it wouldn't be cruel of us to take my car alone.
"Alright, hop in then."
⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
Once we had figured out the location of this crazy party (it wasn't hard, Leonard posted about it on his Instagram), word was spread between both cars and we all started our journey to the address in Hollywood Hills
I parked the car after driving in circles and circles trying to find a parking spot. You'd think by now I'd have some spell to make parking easier.
It was cold, since it was late September, and even the sweltering city of Los Angeles had began to cool down at night. I was wearing a light jacket , although it was more of a vintage button down shirt that I layered unbuttoned over my black tank top and jean shorts. I had some sheer black tights on but I was still freezing cold. I didn't let it bother me though, because I wanted to talk.
"Harry, can I ask you something?" I broke our silence, as we walked side by side down the sidewalk. He took a quick glance at me.
"Sure, what's up?" I crossed my arms to conserve body heat.
"What are we?" He side-eyed me for a moment before I rephrased. "I mean, I mean like are we friends, are we best friends? Like where do we draw the line here?"
The stars weren't visible in the night sky, but the moon was out, glowing down on us and providing a sliver of light, along with the street lights that had turned on hours ago. It must have been around midnight by now. The witching hour. Haha, get it?
"Hmm," he started. I hope I didn't deter him with my previous question. Not that I don't like him, I mean I don't, but I do like him, but not like that. All I did know was that whatever conversation that would have started was one we didn't need to be having right now.
"Well, I think we're friends. I mean, you know my biggest secret and I'm pretty sure... well, actually, I don't think I know any of yours. Tell me a secret right now, and we can be friends." He grinned down at me.
I thought long and hard. Sure, I had a number of secrets to share, some too personal to just blurt out right now, so I decided to go with a lighthearted one. "One time when I was 6 I ate a coin and it never came out and I think it may still be in there."
"What?"
"I mean, I was 6 a really long time ago, I could probably hand that coin over to a museum and make some major bucks off it. I just don't know where it is inside me, exactly. Not that I would die trying to remove it myself but it sure would hurt."
"I-" He started but we already approached the raging house party and I sped up in front of him to find my sisters and Charlie.
I walked around, seeing many unfamiliar faces before running into Louis.
"Hey, have you seen the group?" It was loud and crowded and hot, but I didn't mind very much since I was so cold before.
"Oh yeah, they're right outside, some guy in the pool said something about Leonard," Louis informed me before walking off and talking to some random group of people. I forget that he's a popular celebrity who probably knows a lot of people.
I find my way to the sliding glass back door and squeeze myself through a small gap in it. I find Charlie and Donna talking to a guy on a huge inflatable swan in the pool as they crouched down beside it.
"Wait, so what did he say?" Donna asked.
"He was all like, yeah man I need a drink and so I was all like then get one bro, and he was all like nah I need some, like weird drink or something that I had never even heard of..." The drunk man trailed off, nearly falling asleep.
"But where did he go?" I shouted and he jerked awake.
"Huh? Oh, I don't know something about a bar a couple miles from here, said he needed a, I don't know, a deep end from some dive bar, or something, I don't know."
"Ugh, he's no help. Did you guys hear anything else?" I asked them.
"No, no, nothing yet," Donna sighed. She sat down and kicked off her sandals - a pair of beaten up Birkenstocks - and dipped her legs in the pool. Charlie wandered off, not wanting to take a break.
"How come we like never go to the beach anymore. I miss the beach," Donna spoke to me. I sat beside her.
"I don't know. I guess we've been really busy lately. Ironic, since we haven't been this busy since we rushed that coed fraternity," I say with a giggle.
"That was so stupid, why did we even want to do that?" We fell silent after that. I glanced around me and saw Harry being bombarded by a swarm of fans. I decided to let him deal with that by himself.
"Well, since we're here already, wanna do some shots?" I half-jokingly suggested but Donna agreed with me for some reason, so I pulled her up and we both walked inside.
It was disgustingly sweaty in the actual house. There were dozens of drunks dancing sloppily to music blasting so loudly I couldn't hear myself think. I'm surprised Leo left this party, this is so his style.
"Hey! You two ladies doing shots?" A young man approached us, holding three cups of jello shots. He was tall, likely around my age, with dirty blond hair and dark eyes.
"Hell yeah!" I exclaimed and grabbed one out of his hand and took it. Donna did the same but with less enthusiasm. She put the empty cup on the counter and wandered off once more.
I motioned at the third shot the man had in his hand. "You gonna take that?" He put his hand up in surrender.
"All yours." With that, I took the second shot. He chuckled at me. He smiled wide, flashing his perfectly white teeth. Dude could totally be a model if he wanted to. Actually, this is LA, he may very well be.
"Are you a model?" I shifted my weight on one foot and leaned my head to the side, my crispy black hair falling into my face. I say crispy because I straighten it everyday. Also, I'm known to be a hair dye addict.
He copied my actions slightly, leaning to one side, but he leaned against a wall instead. "Oh yes absolutely, I'm just so ruggedly handsome, you should see me on the cover of Vogue," he laughed a breathy laugh, like he was exhaling.
"No I'm serious you're, like, super good-looking you could totally be a model," I kept my eyes wide, not wanting to break eye contact. Sweat dripped from his neck as the humidity of the party trapped us in an atmosphere of heat, sweltering, surrounding us like an uncomfortably sweaty hug.
"Thank you, thank you, my mom says I look just like Chris Hemsworth," he looked down for a moment and met my grinning eyes once more. "I'm sorry, I just made it weird, I'm... sorry about that." He brushed off his sentence.
"No, no it's fine it's just funny that you bring up your mom to a girl you flirt with at a party," I picked at my nail polish.
"Yeah, uh, I don't usually do parties, flirting."
"You're not from around here, are you?" I nodded my head at him.
"It was that obvious, huh? Yeah, I'm from Detroit, but I got accepted to UCLA, so I guess I'm gonna be around for a while", he paused, "I'm Kyle."
"Faye," I smiled sweetly at him.
"Tell me Faye, you wanna get out of here, and, I don't know, do something?" He tense his teeth together, eagerly awaiting my reply.
Now don't look at me like that. I'm no slut. No loose woman. But when a cute guy asks me out and is completely up front about his feelings and intentions and isn't playing some weird long game, I'm not turning him down. This means nothing. This is nothing. Just a blip on my little immortal grid. Just a guy.
"Well, I gotta find my dumbass brother, Leo, but if you want, you can stick around a bit and we can hang after?" I suggested to him, hoping I'm not laying down too many hoops for him to jump through.
"That would be great," he grinned.
⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#louis tomlinson#louis tomlinson fanfic#louis tomlinson fanfiction#louis tomlinson x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#fluff#2014 aesthetic#2014 vibes#2014 core#2014 grunge#2014 girl#tumblr grunge#dark grunge#pale grunge#pink blog#vampire#vampires#mcr#my chemical romance#gerard way
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woe! snowball fight be upon ye!
Specifically, Tyr & the Imperial Agent crew (and then some because I didn’t stop)! Because I joked about it, idk, a few days ago, and I’ve put too much thought into it to let it fade into the abyss of my mind not to be touched on again.
It may or may not start ‘accidentally’ between Kaliyo and Tyr. With Kaliyo shoving a handful of snow down his jacket because he needs to “chill” and “unwind a little.” This is a declaration of war.
Raina takes to Tyr’s surgical-precision handling of the matter like a fish to water. Seriously, she enjoyed the cloak and dagger game of Corellia way, way too much. She does tease that, Sir, maybe you’re taking this a Bit Much? And there’s lots of giggling about it. But she’s deceptively ruthless.
Vector is caught in the cross-fire of Kaliyo and Tyr trying to nail each other in the face at least twice. He tries so, so hard to stay out of their way and Tyr will be apologizing profusely for days about this. Kaliyo will undoubtedly weaponize this against Tyr.
Lokin acts like he’s not going to get involved. He’s nailing Tyr in the back of the head when he’s not looking and then playing innocent. Temple is still scared of him, but their collaborations prove wildly efficient.
Any preface of ‘you may slip and fall in snow activities’ is just for ‘legality’ esque reasons. He is the ship doctor, after all. If they end up complaining about bruises to him later from slipping and tripping and nailing each other too hard, he will have zero sympathy.
He will ask if their opponent looked worse.
There is at least one (1) snow fort construction involved in the war. It’s where Tyr tries to hide Vector to keep him out of all of this.
Vector is not nearly as innocent as Tyr tries to keep him. If only because the entire crew is in on it at this point. (And Tyr is smiling. Genuinely. This is literally worth anything.)
Tyr is taking sniper positions. You may take the Imperial Intelligence from the Cipher, but you can’t take the Cipher out of Tyr.
So literally help them all they get their hands on a snow cannon because Kaliyo will Not Be Stopped.
Tyr. will. stuff. snow. down. Theron’s. jacket. He is not safe. He’s especially not safe if Kaliyo is around. There may be a brief moment of collaboration if only to see Theron’s face. (It’s worth it.)
Tyr does not fuck with Lana. He values his life. She chases him anyway. The Jenga Incident is Not Forgotten.
Woe be upon the entire Alliance if Koth and Tora and crew get involved.
This all certainly ends with a mildly frosty Tyr and Theron passed out on the couch together under a heap of blankets because Happy Holidays, have a SOFT for once in their lives!!!
#swtor#am i serious or am i shitposting the answer is yes#what if ia snowball fight#how am i even tagging this tbh#imperial agent companions
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the biggest challenge on debating climate change and global warming is coming up with the best understandable analogy.
because we humans have been fixated with lifetime metrics, visible, audible, tactile, odoriferous, etc and so it took human civilization centuries to accept science, celestial things, and in fact, climate.
basically, for however long the human civilizations have existed, let it be greater than 10k years or 5k years, human race had only just started to truly appreciate meteorology since maybe 30 years after the invention of jet airplanes. sue me if you think i'm not precise or accurate about the meteorology or jet airplanes.
for sure, we could not possibly study anything in the upper atmosphere until the introduction of aviation. therefore, at the risk of sounding like i'm a climate change denier apologist, human civilizations, despite of continuing progress, we have actually been historically, brace yourself, dumb as fuck (and double whammied with crazy as fuck in believing the invisible "man" in the sky wants us to ignore climate change).
do the math. at 5k years, we're like 50 over 5,000 years as 1/100 intelligent, which means we're 99% historically fucking stupid. lol.
we could give a discount for the earliest 4,500 years because human civilizations were not yet on track to continuous technology advancement, guess what, 50 over 500, still makes us 90% stupid, as fuck. lol
you do the math if we count from 10k ago. anyway, i digressed for too long. threats of climate change can be as distant as our solar system turning into a blackhole, however, the whole thing is about the invisible thing in life-air.
we are doing things to earth's atmosphere on an unprecedented scale. and we don't need empirical evidence to prove it, or al gore's movie, the inconvenient truth, or greta thunberg to give us a sense of urgency.
just check out the great dust bowl of 1930. i'm leave it to you all to learn about it. human did not cause the draught of 1930, but human caused the dust bowl because of over farming. and it was all caused by texans and they're fucking doing it again with global warming.
human effect on climate change is like playing jenga, like leaking stove gas in a window-shut house. game over when the whole thing falls. it will not be gradual. it cannot be remedied within a few years.
it's not even refutable or even unknown to human history. the fact that we know different regions on earth have different climate and seasons, we inherently understand that slightest differences in weather is all the reason why we choose to live one place or another or adhere to different survival practices. we know. we all know. we have always known.
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November 2019
The White Hart Inn, Edinburgh
It’s been a divisive couple of weeks, but while Facebook, Twitter and the country as a whole were shit-talking each other over who was gonna vote for who; a crack team of drinkers with varying political views pressed on with a (more important) common cause.
No more dither, no more delay. Get the Calendar Crawl done!
November and December’s trips took place in one pre-festive beer orgy a few weekends ago. But in keeping with previous write ups, I’ll post November now and leave Father Seshmas to deliver December’s next week.
As with the Crawl itself, there’s a lot of ground to cover, so let’s get straight into it. For November, the Calendar was sending us north of the wall to Edinburgh. Pretty harsh. Not only that though, but in December, to finish the year, it was making us visit Washington in Tyne & Wear. Now, we love travel - we wouldn’t be doing this shit if we didn’t. But even for us, a couple of return trips that far north, back to back, heading into a busy festive period was going to be difficult. So it required a bit of creative problem solving.
Fortunately for us, November turned to December mid-weekend, meaning that there was an opportunity to do Edinburgh & Washington in the same trip. All it meant, was a shit load of driving… but needs must. We didn’t spend 10 months visiting places like Beccles, Goudhurst and Blandford Forum just to shy away from piss ups in Edinburgh and Newcastle. So off we went, similar lineup to last time, but with our ranks bolstered by my wife - Katie Allen, who is either long suffering or very lucky (depending on who you ask). She is also the second female to join the ranks of the Calendar Crawl since it became an equal opportunity institution of Sesh Gremlins.
In an attempt to break up the drive, we opted to do a stop off somewhere cool on the Friday. And nothing seemed cooler than every fat goth’s spiritual homeland, Whitby. The home of fish and chips and Dracula. To get there, we had a kick ass drive over the North Yorkshire Moors during the golden sunset and it was truly some of the most beautiful scenery we’ve seen so far. The best of England. Scenery so good, it makes you want to sink a fucking ale or ten. And that’s precisely what we did.
Parking up, we took in the scenery of the ruined Whitby Abbey and headed down the cliffs into the town. From there, with no calendar pub to consider, it was a straight forward case of a good old fashioned pub crawl. We ended up doing 9 in total, including two we found on a list of ‘Pubs to Maybe Avoid’ because they can be “quite local”. One of those however, the Jolly Sailor, was actually one of the most enjoyable. A traditional cash only establishment, packed with crusty sea dog locals and a strictly enforced No Swearing, No Phones/Laptops/Tablets policy (but Smart Watches are okay). Once we’d weathered the initial heckling upon arrival, we ended up having a jolly old time. And because of the screen ban, we actually had to look at and talk to each other, which we haven’t done in years but actually quite enjoyed.
We were told a trip to Whitby is never complete without fish and chips, so for dinner we went to the Magpie Café following a recommendation. And yeah, bloody good cod! Other pubs worthy of a mention are the Quirky Den, a cosy micro pub with different local ales and ciders. And the Golden Lion, an old fashioned boozer where we finished off with rum and ginger beer cocktails and fiercely competitive games of Jenga.
The next morning, it was time for a 3 hour 45 minute drive north to the land of Haggis and Nicola Sturgeon. For the first time the Calendar Crawl has taken us out of England on our ale-chasing adventures. It was time for Edinburgh. With a quick piss break in Lindisfarne to break up the drive and stock up on mead.
Not only had we left the visit to Scotland late, we’d also unintentionally timed it with St Andrew’s Day - so we were sure to be in for a good night. But before things could get really messy, we had to head to the Grassmarket for our penultimate calendar pub - The White Hart Inn. Allegedly haunted, but undoubtedly one of the city’s oldest, the White Hart has apparently hosted many historical figures; including England’s very own regicidal maniac, Oliver Cromwell. You’ll be hard pressed to find revolutionaries of that ilk boozing there anymore though, it was just hoaching with students, tourists and probably pished up locals alike. It was probably one of the nicer calendar pubs, but as it was so busy, we figured it was probably best to go and check in at the AirBNB and dump our bags.
We managed to find a really affordable place to stay; very central, very discreet, luxurious bathroom, free sanitary towels. You know the type of place. It’s got a couple of double bedrooms, some childish beaded curtains hanging on the wall, a dressing table covered in blonde hair and a wardrobe with a hole punched in it. You know the type of place. A plastic bag taped over the fire alarm, a handbag full of stolen makeup in the cupboard, straightener marks and a couple of condom wrappers on the bedroom floor. You know the place. No milk though. Not initially anyway - though the AirBNB host did bring us some with the bottle of red he’d also got us as compensation for giving us the wrong key.
Yeah, we think all the evidence points to our digs probably being used as a knocking shop and/or a cam girls bedroom studio. But man, it was warm and the beds were comfy so it wasn’t all bad. But back to the sesh…
Having finally been able to lock the apartment, we went out into the frosty winters’ night for a bit of a Crawl. We walked through the park, in the icy shadow of the castle on that big fucking rock, and checked out a couple of recommended pubs. The Cold Town House was a personal highlight, a brewery pub with a rooftop bar and some live music. Honourable mentions to The Bow Bar, The Jolly Judge and the Hanover Tap. All offering a good amount of quality ale in bustling but friendly environments.
Throughout this year, we’ve been keeping some interesting stats for the final write up. We’ve kept a record of every round, how much we’ve spent, how many pints we’ve drunk and how many pubs we’ve been to. And it was during a pint or two in the Hanover Tap that we started crunching some numbers and realised that we were actually sitting in our 87th pub of the year. And then that got us thinking, can we make that 100 by the end of the Calendar Crawl in Newcastle? It was quarter to midnight when we realised this, that meant we had about 24 hours to fit in another 13 pubs, but we’d also have to fit some sleep in at our brothel, and have a 3 hour drive down to Washington and Newcastle. But still, we were confident this was achievable.
So did we do it? Well, as this is already 1000 words too long. I’m gonna leave all that for the next update. So find out next week how many pubs we visited, miles we travelled and more depressingly how much money we’ve pissed away on this year long booze cruise.
Thanks for reading.
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“━POLICE! IS THAT FUCKING FISH JENGA?”
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Establishment
Jitters Au
AO3
Today the 141 teams would be leaving after a mission well-done. Their success echoed around the base until the late hours of the morning. Creating shifts of soldiers to celebrate once again another green tick.
A job well done.
She sat on her cot, cradling her hand and wincing as she flexed her fingers. A dark purple bruise had cascaded the way across her knuckles and spread through her hand like gangrene eating her flesh.
A solid purple bruise had blossomed on her cheek, but other than that her face had been left unscathed.
Must've been because Miles could throw punches like a child.
Getting ready in the mornings had never been her favorite part of the day, quite frankly dreading them in their entirety. Her body ached, and she knew Price wanted to meet with her once more before he departed.
"And I'll watch you back."
His words bounced around the interior of her skull, mulling over his words. She spilled her guts, and gutted herself like a fish while the two men in the room gave her blank, stoic gazes.
It was unnerving, to say the least. It made her feel powerless, to the highest degree to have the worst failures of her life splayed across the table for someone to pick through and analyze.
Walking through the hallways passing other soldiers milling about to reach their tasks, she stood in front of the doorway to Gulch's office, where Pice was no doubt waiting for her inside. It made her stomach do flips, fighting with itself as she stared at the knob.
Reaching her hand out and pushing the door open she stepped in.
It was time to finalize her paperwork.
...
Signing papers with a fucked up hand was misery on its own degree. Not that they really needed her signature- all Price had to do was call Laswell, kick his feet in the air and ask 'Pretty please?'.
Not that he did that in front of her-
she just assumed he did that before she came in, of course.
Leaving the office and closing the door behind her, she was met face-to-chest with MacTavish's chest. Looking up she was met with an almost amused look. Before she could apologize, or do anything really he had lifted her hand to inspect the damage from her fight.
"You're a little ripper, arent ya'?" He asked, not expecting a response.
"uh." Was all she blurted out, not knowing how to respond.
"You're gonna break something throwin' punches like that, ya' know." He stated matter-of-factly.
"Yea." She agreed, looking down at her feet. He radiated something that made her shift her feet in discomfort, a distinct 'you don't belong around me' she supposed is what pushed off of him in waves
"Lost a pack of cigs, surprised the lot." He spoke again.
She looked up at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I bet against you."
"Oh."
"Beat the piss outta him, gave him a proper whopping."
"I guess." She mumbled.
"You getting reprimanded again this early in the morning?"
"...No." She paused, taking a moment to respond. Was she supposed to be? Did she mess up by saying no?
"Heard the medics talking saying you broke Miles's jaw."
She didn't respond.
"Just know what real fights don't work like that, little lass. If you'd been in real danger you'd be dead." And with his last words, he pushed in the door to the office and left her awkwardly standing there, not really knowing how to respond.
...
Packing, it was almost like she was leaving for college. All of her belongings fit into a duffel back, save for a separate backpack to hold electronics and her laptop. rather than trying to stuff an entire bedroom into the back of her car to then try and jenga into a dorm room.
She'd only even flown in a helicopter one other time, this one was bigger. Multiple people were in it with her, as they'd stop to refuel they would periodically drop someone off, until it was only her and the pilot sitting in the chopper together. She tried to keep quiet, the pillow didn't seem very talkative, shooting down any attempts she had made previously to drum up some small talk.
They didn't tell her where she was going, only that she would be meeting up with Captain Price at the new base she had been stationed at. It was strange, she had yet to get a call from Laswell, another summer camp speech.
Don't screw this up,
you'll regret it.
Somewhere within the course of traveling, she had begun to nod off, every once and a while opening her eyes to find themselves flying over unidentifiable landmarks. When she landed, she grabbed both of her bags and climbed out, making her way onto the tarmac trying to avoid the deafening sound of the blades beating the air into submission.
There weren't many places for her to go, a singular building- kind of similar to a government building but smaller. Minimal windows. Debating in her head what it looked like.
School? No. Not enough windows.
You know what. It looked like an auto shop.
The large hangar/garage is tacked onto the side of the building. That is what it looked like she decided. Walking up to it, awkwardly holding her two bags she looked back in an attempt to find the pilot to see where he went.
He was gone.
"Call me a Debbie downer but isn't it a liability to fuckin' leave someone stranded on a military base?" She grumbled under her breath.
The hangar door was wide open, opting to just brave it and step inside, she looked around and didn't see anyone- no movement for that matter.
"Hello?" She called out.
Some scuffling could be heard, as well as the sound of metal dropping on something. Two pairs of footsteps and two bodies emerged.
"Oi! Jitters!'
Gaz.
They were on the second story, up on a metal walkway that led to what she assumed to be a storage area. She gave an awkward nod and looked around.
"They kinda just ditched me, dude, I don't know where to go?" She calls up to him.
"The fuck are you doing here?" MacTavish asks. She couldn't read the tone of his voice- which worried her. She knew that he didn't like her- but was hoping for at least a semi-smooth transition.
"What's with all this bloody yelling?" She heard another voice chime in, this time from the ground floor.
Ghost.
He was still wearing basically the same thing she last saw him in, less for a vest- a lot of weapons and blood.
Jitters locked eyes with Ghost, not intentionally she'd internally defend herself. But once their eyes met she felt as if she couldn't look away. His eyes bore into her soul. Her feet felt like they were anchored to the floor below her.
"Fucking hell..." Ghost mumbles, walking away and disappearing into a hallway.
As if a trance was broken, she looked back up to Gaz and he gave her a shrug. "You looking for Cap?"
"Yea." She said.
"I'll show ya." He shot her a small smile before walking across a pathway, descending down a flight of stairs, and meeting up with her.
He lead her through the base, corner here, corner there, until he came up to a door. Knocking on it twice he nodded her in. She gave him a grateful smile and stepped in, smoke danced in the stagnant air of the office. Price sitting at his desk chair fingering through the paperwork. Manila folders with various stamps and stickers on them.
"Jitters." Price said, standing up and extending a hand. She took it, engaging in a short handshake. "Glad you made it."
"Yea. Thanks for having me."
"Remember, I'll have your back." He reminded her.
She nodded.
"We don't have a room yet that can be explicitly used for your office yet, but rest assured we will be working on it. We don't have any planned missions that will need your assistance for a week, maybe two. So it'll give you some time to settle in." He explains.
"Ok."
"You'll have your own room and bathroom."
Bathroom.
She perked up at that.
He must have noticed because the distinct sound of a chuckle rising out of his chest filled the room. "Thought you'd enjoy that bit."
"That's definitely a perk." She exhales.
"Perks of working with the best." He shrugged. "Alright, you'll need to get acquainted with the team- someone can show you your room and you can get settled.
She nods. "I uh- Gaz showed me, to here. I don't how to how get back." She tried to explain.
Price started laughing again. "'s Alright. I forget the labyrinth this place can be sometimes. I'll get one of the lads to show you around."
"Ok."
The two of them stood up, Jitters picking up both of her bags and the following Price out of the door. Almost as if it was pre-planned, MacTavish walked bast carrying a large duffel bag of something in his left hand.
"Soap." Price called out.
Mactavish stopped and looked at him "Yes Cap?"
"Do me a favor, show Jitters around n' show her to her new quarters."
"Aye, will do."
God, this place is so British it hurts.
Soap?
Why did he call him Soap?
Price had already closed the door to his office, and Jitters looked at MacTavish.
"Well are you gonna keep standing there?" He asked.
"Um, no, sorry- shit." She lifted her bags again and walked up to him, beginning to follow him as he navigated through the hallways.
"Your room is going to be in between Gaz and I's." He explains. "We normally keep a room in between us for privacy, but things don't always work out how we'd like." There was a twang in his voice, reinforcing that idea-
we don't want you here.
"Ok." She says, trying to keep up with him. "What're you carrying?" She eyes the bag again, the way it strains off of the straps makes her assume it has to be something heavy.
"Explosives." He states.
"Oh." She regrets that she even asked.
They continued to walk in silence for a bit.
"Why did Price call you Soap?" She asks.
"It's my callsign- nickname." He explains. "Same reason why you're called Jitters."
"So how'd you earn the name Soap?" She asked.
"Classified."
"Can't imagine it's as bad a Jitters." She laughs to herself- lightly. Trying to fill the awkward void.
"Here's your room." He stops, and throws his thumb back to the door next to him.
"Thanks." She looks at the door, then to him, then back at the door. "You get situated, I'll come back 'round dinner and take you to the mess."
"Ok. Thank you." She enters her new room and looks at the four walls and the doorway into the bathroom.
It wasn't a luxury hotel or anything, but it was better than previous stays she'd been in. Simple bed- twin size it seemed. Better than the cots she was sleeping on beforehand, cording stringing together a thick piece of canvas and suspending it onto a platform.
Like a really uncomfortable, scratchy trampoline.
Setting her two bags down she rested her hands on her hips and looked around.
Pillow.
Sheet.
Lamp.
Ok.... She could work with this.
With the large quantity of things she had she mused.
Opting to take a shower, and lay on her new bed, staring at the ceiling until Soap came to knock on her door.
She opened the door and gave him a courteous smile. "Hi Soap."
"Hi, Jitters." He replied in the same tone. "Let's head to the mess.
"So, dish soap? Or like Fabuloso?" She said, trying to break the silence as they walked.
"Don't know what Fabuloso is. Neither." He replied, keeping his pace ahead of her.
He didn't really respond, giving her a 'hm.' in response.
"You know, there was this guy at a mission I went on called bubbles. It was because he was always super snotty- but one day he was taking a nap and blew up the grossest snot bubble on his face. Dude was like a bubble machine-"
"Dear god, kid." He seethes, looking at her. "Try bein' quiet."
"Never thought I'd hear those words outta your mouth, Johnny."
Jitters quickly looked behind her to see Ghost walking up behind them. Soap groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand. "I don't need shit from you now, too."
Jitters looked down at her feet and continued to follow the two the rest of the way to dinner.
She didn't know what she was really expecting for dinner- normally bases would have designated cooks, and they'd cook large quantity meals. Spaghetti with an essence of sauce, maybe some salad, weird shit with rice.
She wasn't really expecting a simple, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and chicken? She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten meat that was recognizable. It was surprisingly domestic- big, scary, military task force sitting at a table next to a pretty basic-looking kitchen.
The table was large enough to seat six, and it was serve-yourself.
Suppose it was just a perk of being some of the best of the best. She's sure they made up for it with grueling missions and limited rations.
Fuck she hated MREs.
It was almost comedic, how much food Soap piled onto his plate before he sat down and started going to town on it. She went through the line, grabbed a plate, and portioned out what she'd consider a normal amount of food, and a biscuit.
With a glass of water, a plate, and a fork she sat down and started eating. Trying to ignore the sounds of Soap devouring the food next to her. She noticed Ghost took his food, and left for somewhere- she assumed he would probably eat in his room. It seemed like it would be decently difficult to eat with a Halloween decoration stitched onto your face.
Gaz must've noticed her eyes lingering on the hallway Ghost left out of.
"It's normal, he's too good to eat with us." He joked.
She looked down at her food, nodded, and began to eat.
Price joined them a little while later, made his plate and joined the three of them at the table.
It was strangely peaceful in a way.
It made her realize yea, they were soldiers but they were only human.
"That all you're gonna eat?" Price asked her, sitting down with a decently sized plate himself.
"Yea..." She said, taking a bite of mashed potatoes.
"No wonder you got your ass thrown around in that fight, you eat like a little bird." Soap piped in.
"I won that fight." She said, taking a sip of water.
"Not well." Price responded.
oh.
She didn't know if she should be disgusted with how much Soap ate, or astonished because the man was already up and making a second plate.
"So, seems you're going to be a part of the team, we'll be doing training, basic sparring, the works- assuming your attending," Gaz spoke.
"Oh, I didn't-"
"Should probably learn how to throw a proper punch." Soap joked.
"Thought I did fine." Jitters mumbled.
"Definitely put the fear of god into that guy." Gaz agreed.
"It was a dirty schoolyard fight." Price piped in. "It only worked because he was 'bout as big as her."
"Let's throw 'er at Ghost." Soap laughed out.
"Yea, traumatize the poor child before she's been here for more than a week." Gaz sarcastically agreed. "You did fight pretty dirty." He pointed his fork at Jitters.
"Didn't know it was supposed to be a fair fight- didn't exactly want to do it ya' know."
"Fair fight or not, sometimes all that matters is you win." Price added.
"I bet ya' I could still mop tha' floor with ya-." Soap said.
"Ok? And? You're probably a hundred pounds more than me- you're what, at least six-one. That's like me going out and kicking kindergartners and going 'Yea! I could mop the floor with this whole lot'!" She added a (not very good) Scottish accent at the end for good measure.
The room was filled with laughter, and for a short bit, the feelings of loneliness faded away.
Maybe establishing here wouldn't be too hard.
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i saw this at 1am last night and it still makes me giggle uncontrollably
check out the youtube channel Sam O’Nella Academy, he’s hilarious and informative and sometimes the videos can be very dark and disturbing if that sweetens the deal for ya
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