#grizzly tank

[halopedia]

Lore Thursday — M850 Grizzly

Manufactured by Chalybs Defence Solutions, the M850 Grizzly is a behemoth of a tank, known for its firepower and reliability. However, many factors—including its exorbitant cost—kept it from seeing widespread use.

#LoreThursday #lore thursday #halopedia #halowiki #halo wiki #halopedia.org #halo #halowars #halo wars #halowars2 #halo wars 2 #unscvehicle #unsc vehicle #unscvehicles #unsc vehicles #unsctank #unsc tank #grizzly #grizzlytank #grizzly tank #johnforge #john forge #unscspiritoffire #unsc spirit of fire #spiritoffire #spirit of fire #halospartanstrike #halo spartan strike #halo spartan assault

[klein-sodor-bahn]

He’s really fucking furious! Henry is so furious he’s even drooling molten soot. Just run really.

Was motivated to draw this angry boy by @00lemonfizz00 Art.

Love your art and your precious OC Blaidd! Keep it up.

#ttte #thomas and friends #ttte henry #henry the green engine #ttte art #thomas the tank engine #henry is a menace #Run tbh like for real #Good thing he ain’t in his beast form because otherwise he would chase after you like an angry grizzly bear

[kdsburneraccount]

League wilding rn (Marcus Smart to the Grizzlies and Porzingis to the Celtics)

#well uh. farewell tingis pingis you left on better terms than beal did #but also celtics bad #we r tanking so maybe get injured??? #interesting move from the grizzlies #VERY out of the blue #i suppose we will see how the on court fit is w ja #nba #washington wizards #boston celtics #memphis grizzlies

[onelittlespiral]

Warning: Bear Attacks

As we move into the holiday season, we would like to issue our annual warning about bear attacks. With colder weather setting in, an increased number of bears will be driven indoors as they search for food, warmth, and mates. And bears are far more dangerous in confined spaces.

Take this specimen here for instance. At first glance, he seems like a kind, friendly, fuzzy man who would keep you warm through a cold winter night. Maybe not the most happening upstairs, but he means well. Would you believe that just this summer he looked more like this?

Young and cute, but certainly not the hairy beast we have seen him turn into this season. If you are going out this winter, be aware, and be alert for the warning signs and know what to do if a bear sets its sights on you. First, how do you identify a bear? There are a few common varieties, each with their own quirks:

You have the very standard Grizzly bear, warm and cuddly. Pronounced dad bod. Notice the expression, the signature bear smirk. This will be one of the earliest signs that a bear is on the hunt.

Of course you also have the muscle bears. Their signature muscles will be coated in a thick layer of fur, accentuating their size. Hair will peak out from beneath heavy biceps, and their tank tops give no doubt to the forest underneath. They will often infiltrate and train you up before attacking. They like their marks ready, bro.

Even the smaller, younger cubs present a danger this time of year. They may seem helpless, but let us assure you they are far more knowledgeable than they seem. They can cause some of the most drastic changes in age, hair, and temperament. Countless men soon find themselves caring for their cubs, foraging for them, and assuming responsibility as they age into papa bears for their sweet little cubs.

Now bears will all hunt in their own ways, but there are patterns to their behavior. First, bears tend to congregate together. If you notice one, be on alert for others. Second, beware of beer and whiskey drinks offered to you. These are the trademark drinks of several bear species. Third, monitor the air in a room. That many big, burly men will tend to warm a place up and start to sweat, and bear musk is among their most potent tools to pacify targets. And in greater numbers these effects can be amplified. Their fur traps the musk close to their skin, so the closer they get the more enraptured you will become. If you are subjected to a direct hit from, say, a bear’s pit, it may already to be too late.

In case you find yourself taken back to a bear’s den, all is not lost yet, but far more drastic measures may need to be taken. Continued exposure to them will accelerate any changes, so you must be quick and decisive. First, avoid any food they may offer you, no matter how starved you may suddenly feel yourself becoming. Feeding the insatiable new hunger will only awaken the bear that is growing inside of you. Second, avoid direct contact with their fur. They may appear warm and inviting, and their cuddles are indeed among the coziest in the world. But skin-to-fur contact encourages hair growth as your body grows a pelt of its own. Third, avoid getting under the covers with them. Their body heat will quickly begin to melt your wits and your body will begin sweating, creating a musk of its own to compliment. Take this young man for example:

He barely made it out from a cuddle session with a bear, but some drastic changes have already occurred. His 6 pack abs have begun their journey to a muscle gut. He can hardly go a day without shaving or a full beard will quickly cover his face. And the musk he now produces keeps him far hornier than he ever was before. The effect seems to be limited to just himself, for now. Can you believe he is only 21? Hasn’t been carded in months. He had to drop from his football team, no longer in the right shape for it. He now is much more suited to rugby. And he is one of the lucky ones. This one was not so lucky:

These two photos were taken mere days apart. He was, sadly, subjected to the final transformation: becoming a bear himself. After being taken to a den, accepting some greasy snacks, and cuddled into submission, this poor man was selected to be a bear’s mate. He was laid on his back, had his clothes removed, and the bear started massaging his legs and thighs. He ran his thick fingers over his hole and slowly worked his way inside to stretch him out for what was to come. It wasn’t long before his bear dick was pressed against him, and he felt the thick, veiny cock begin to slowly pump into his cavity. Once bears get started, it is nearly impossible to get them to stop. His thighs slapped against his target’s ass as his wild bush pressed against his hole. When a bear decides to breed, it is hot, steamy, and rough. Moans tend to erupt from victims as their body betrays them, fur pushing out from every follicle, minds consumed by thoughts of sex, food, and men. Their dicks tend to stretch to match that of their mate’s, growing thick as a beer can, and so sensitive. Any memories that conflict with the bear they are becoming are churned by a new, heavy sack. Testicles will swell to the size of golf balls under the effort. Their old lives leak out of their cocks as they are edged, molding beneath their captor until the bear is happy with their target. And then, the bear will come, pumping load after load deep into their new mate. The target’s belly bloats to contain it all, creating the signature bear gut that juts out over their new bodies. The effort will push any last memories out as their cock erupts. Both bears will quickly be exhausted, falling asleep in a sticky, smelly, sweaty heap. And then it’s over. We have yet to discover a way to revert any victims. Not that they would want to. They become enraptured with their new bodies, and begin to hunt on their own for new mates. It is said a bear has an insatiable appetite, and will change as many men as they can get their hands on in a winter season until they find the perfect mate for hibernation.

It is advised that men stay aware, stay alert, and stay away. Report any bear sightings immediately. And stay tuned for any further information.

#musk #transformation #male transformation #bear #warning #tf #male tf #reality change

[sayruq]

Every few weeks, Israeli officials say that Hamas is 'starting to break' or 'starting to lose control over Gaza.'

Meanwhile Hamas released a very slick trailer unveiling a new missile type, the M-90, that it used on Tel Aviv

Al Qassam Brigades released a video showing their operation and it's the most intense one yet. Tw: explosions, gunshots, no blood or gore

Al Qassam has also released a video related to the tweets below and it's grizzly. Some of the special forces team and the POW were killed in the attempted rescue (though you only see the POW's body)

[CONT] eastern axis of Khan Yunis.

It's not just Al Qassam Brigades, the Al Quds Brigades has also released a video showing their fighters carrying out attacks against the IDF. It included a moment where one of the fighters shoots an RPG at a tank and then leaps for joy shouting ' It's on fire! It's on fire!'

Same TW as the Al Qassam video

The Mujahideen Brigades also posted an update

[CONT] aircraft intervened to bomb the soldier, and our fighters returned to their bases safely

Nasser Salah al-Din Brigades has spoken about one of their military operations in Gaza

[CONT] certain injuries among them. One of the martyrdom fighters rose in the operation, and two of the heroes withdrew safely

It's actually really hard to keep up with everything that is happening in Gaza.

It has also been very intense in the other fronts too - namely Hezbollah at the Lebanon border and militia groups in Iraq and Syria

Btw a bill meant to withdraw 900 US troops from Syria failed to pass to expect more operations like this as long as Gaza is being destroyed.

#yemen #jerusalem #tel aviv #current events #palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #news on gaza #palestine news #news update #war news #war on gaza

[lunamoonbby]

🌺💖🎀Simon's Little House Wife🌺💖🎀

Gif credit goes to @poohbea

Warning ⚠️: slight body insecurities on Simon's end, female reader, reader is referred to be short like 4'11 height, reader being called wifey or lovie simon is referred to as hubby, reader having a slight belly pouch, and NSFW MINORS DON'T INTERACT

Being Simon's short little house wife who enjoys cooking and baking sweets for her hubby cause he's big and needs a the nutritional food he can get.

Simon who wasn't a big fan of sweets until he tasted a cupcake from his lovie.

Simon who can't help himself to just only one plate and will eat how ever much servings as he possibly can

Lovie who has to cook for a literal army meaning the pot that can have everyone eat the same leftovers for 5 days(I'm pretty sure we all know the pot) cause her hubby has an appetite as big as him.

The pot never really having 5 day leftovers inside but only enough for lovie and hubby to have for lunch the very next day

Lovie who make sure there is always sweets around, like cake, cupcakes, brownies, cookies, pies...just baked goods in general

Simon who starts to gain a bit of weight but doesn't know until someone tells him

Wifey who enjoys seeing the weight he put on cause it was her food that did that, and Simon is much more comfortable to cuddle with since he isn't all muscle anymore and has a nice dad bod going on

Simon who did his on base medical exam finding out he gained weight cause the doctor asked if he was bulking again (doctor was afraid he was going to go from walking brick wall to a walking tank cause he's already menacing enough)

Simon who is confused and when he really sees himself that's when he notice the weight gain

Simon who comes home and eats only a little bit of food and wifey being confused as to why that's happening

Wifey asking simon what's wrong you always EAT my cooking and that looks like a snack for you

Simon who tells her his insecurities saying he gained weight and he fears that he's no longer attractive

Lovie giving him that look before saying that she knows about the weight gain and that he's still the simon she married and that he's much more comfortable to cuddle now that he's not pure muscle, and his body heat keeps her warm at night, and it swells her with pride knowing that her food is that great and that he is getting the nourishment that he needs, and that he also eats her out like a man starved leaving no crumbs behind

So with that said simon is like I want dessert first and lovie being excited cause she made a yummy peach cobbler and Simon having to tell her not that kind of dessert but I will have me a piece of that cobbler when I'm done with you and my dinner

Lovie not being able to wait anymore goes in the living room lies down on the couch and lifts the skirt part of her dress up and removes her panties so Simon can get to eating which he does until reader has to push him away and squeeze her thighs together like she's gonna crush his skull

Simon who is content with his life

Lovie who brought in a batch of cupcakes for 141 cause it was prices birthday and it gave her and excuse to be a little baker

Soap saying that his LT's wife looks like a milf cause the sundress + belly pouch = mom bod and she also mothers the 141 and ghost reprimanding soap

141 getting a taste of lovies cupcakes and everyone telling ghost that they can see why he gained weight cause his lovie just makes really delicious food

Wifey who is like say all what you want about my hubby but I love him just the way he is, he looks even more grizzly, he knows exactly how to satisfy me and I love my walking tank he makes my size kink go brrr and he keeps me very warm when it's cold just like a bear and she just starts singing cuffing season by SZA

Simon bringing his wife in for a hug cause his wife is his hype woman and he can't get over how loving she is

141 wanting to have a wife like Simon's cause they're all jealous of the treatment simon is getting from his wife

#lunamoonbby #simon ghost riley #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #i wanna have his babies #simon riley x reader #ghost riley #ghost call of duty #cod ghost #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x reader #call of duty simon ghost riley #simon x reader #simon ghost x you

[finalgirl00]

Coach's sister.

SUMMARY - The one time Coach Ben’s little sister stops by after practice.

2.7k words. Lottie Matthews x Fem! reader.

As you whipped recklessly into the parking lot of your rival school you were sure to turn a few heads from the students. You were currently driving your older brother’s Mustang from the 70s, but the way you treated it would have had him pulling the hair out of his head. Your car was currently in the shop for a blown-out motor after a routine attempt to race with your friends, so when you begged Ben to let you borrow his car he was reluctant to say yes. Somehow after a long conversation and you promising you would pick him up, his keys ended up in your hands as you grin with triumph walking out of the door this morning. 

You were blasting No Doubts, Just a Girl, through the speakers of his car as you find parking near the soccer field. The car ended up crooked in two spots as you parked quickly. Letting the car run a bit, you looked out the car window looking for Ben, but to your disappointment, the team was still practicing and he was nowhere to be found. With a huff, you looked down at your clothes deciding on whether or not you should show up on the pitch. You were wearing your school's athletic tank top with a grizzly bear and a matching pair of green shorts that screamed your rival school’s name. With a sigh, you turn the car off and slowly got out of the car trying to make your movement minimal to avoid bringing attention to yourself.  Slamming the door shut, you gathered all your confidence as you began to walk down to the field in an attempt to find your brother.

As you walked down the field you stuck out like a sore thumb. Gratefully the girls seemed too focused on their practice to notice you, but you observed their skills as you continued to walk not paying too much attention to your surroundings. The skills the girls were showing were definitely the same ones Ben has taught you. Smiling a little to yourself you suddenly bumped into someone. Unclear of who ran into who, you held onto the other girl for balance as she looked at you passive-aggressively.

“You are not supposed to be here! What are you doing here?!” she said loudly as her eyes were filled with confusion. As you let go of her you looked at her noticing that she had curly hair and glasses, but suddenly she raised her arms and blocked your view of the practice with a clipboard. She must be the team manager you thought to yourself.

“I'm just looking—” you started before she abruptly cut you off. “Well stop! I know you're just here to tell your team about what we have been practicing before the game on Friday! Isn't that like cheating? I would expect no less from the bears!” she continues to ramble passive-aggressively. “I'm sorry but who are you?” you asked her scoffing slightly at the assumptions she has made. “Misty Quigley, Im the team manager, and I am here to make sure players like you don't go on spying to report back to your team,” she said as she suddenly started waving the clipboard hitting you occasionally in attempts to shoo you away.

Little did you know your brother was back on the field and completely unaware of what was happening on the other side. As he called the team to the huddle to talk about what they can improve on before deciding whether or not to continue the practice he noticed that the team manager was missing. He looked around as he suddenly heard her voice yelling which also attracted the eyes of the Yellowjackets to look at the scene. Some of the girls gasped as they saw the unfamiliar girl on the field. They were angered at the thought of a player from the opposing team to be watching their practice, but Coach Ben sighed. 

You grabbed onto Misty’s clipboard to cease her attacks and threw it to the side. “What are you doing?!” you yelled at her slightly before all of a sudden your brother's voice yelled “Misty, Stop! Both of you come here!” you looked at her begrudgingly as you started to walk across the pitch with all of the others girls eyes on you. ‘Good job at trying not to make a big scene’ you thought to yourself as Misty went to grab her clipboard and then followed a few steps behind you. As you walked past the huddle you heard quiet remarks about how you were ‘bad at soccer so you came to watch them to learn’ and ‘how you were jealous because you knew your team was going to lose on Friday’, but you kept your head down avoiding eye contact a little embarrassed about all the attention. 

“Cut it out or you will all be running a mile after practice!” Ben yelled out upset at the comments they were making about you. You finally had the nerve to look up as your brother stood up for you. A wave of cockiness suddenly arose in you as you noticed you were immune to any of the punishments Ben would give them. You look at Ben before looking at the rest of the girls to observe their features. 

Out of all the girls in front of you, the tall girl wearing the number five jersey caught your attention. She seemed to be just as angry at you as the rest, but you let your eyes linger on her a little longer. She was pretty and maybe if you met at a different time you might have started off on the right foot you thought to yourself before looking back at Ben as he continued to say “Guys this is my younger sister, y/n, she is borrowing my car and I will be taking her home. She’s not spying on us or anything so quit your judgment.” he said straight forward as he looked around at the rest of them. He left no room for questions as he said: “Got it?”.

The girls all looked back at you and then at Ben to observe similarities between each other. They had no clue of his younger sister's existence and were curious to know more about her as she was a similar age as the rest of the girls. However, there was a little guilt and sorriness they felt as they were quick to jump at y/n throat making false claims about her and her team. However, one girl, a ginger, did not hesitate to ask “Why would she go to a different school? She might as well go here since you work here?” as if she did not feel like she should have been held accountable for the team's actions from early. 

“Maybe because I want to be a part of a school that wins constantly instead of once in a blue moon!” you stated snarkily as you did not forget their aggressiveness from earlier. Some girls were not okay with your comment as they were quick to defend their school and attack yours, but Ben cut it short before it got worse “Quit Fighting!’ he said then turning to you “You can join them on their run if you keep up with the attitude.” Number 5 snickered at the coach's statement, but as soon as he turned to her she stopped. “Lottie, you can join her,” he stated seriously. “Are you ser–” she started before looking at you and back towards her coach, but then he abruptly interrupted her “Two miles. After practice.” he said as if it was final. 

You groaned as you looked at the girl mouthing the words ‘thanks a lot’, but she scoffed at your response before she says “Sorry coach”. He introduces you to the rest of the team as some of them began to open up to you. Jackie, Taissa, and Van seemed to take a particular liking to you as they liked the spark and fight you had in you. However, the tension between you and the taller girl was present as she ignored any conversation or contact with you and talked to her other teammate, Natalie, instead. However, conversations were cut short as your brother brought them to a huddle to finish one more scrimmage. 

As they ran out to the field you handed over the keys to him in silence. You were still a little upset at him, but you did not want to argue anymore. He sent you to sit on the bench saying something along the lines that you were bothering him. As you sit on the bench on the sidelines you watched Lottie and Natalie off to the side of the pitch stealing glances at you as they talked. Lottie caught your eyes once before quickly turning around a little embarrassed that she caught your gaze. Coach Ben noticed their glances but didn’t say anything as he called the end of practice. 

You tried slipping away to avoid the run, but Ben caught you and beckon you and Lottie over to the track. “Maybe this will teach you a lesson,” he said as you and Lottie looked at each other. You both groaned but nonetheless got ready to start running two miles. Ben counts the two of you down and you two start running at the same pace. 

No words were spoken between the two, but after the second lap, you spoke away. ”We should just pace each other and make the lap longer, so he will have to wait longer.” you suggested. There was no response on her end, so you continued “I’m sorry we started off on the wrong foot, but we should at least work together to burden Ben…” you said with a small chuckle and she finally looked at you. Her dark eyes gazed into yours, but you looked away slightly blushing at her intense gaze. “That’s not a bad idea…” Lottie finally spoke up as you were nearing the end of the second lap. Smiling at her statement you noticed her pace slowed down quite a bit and you followed right after her. You looked over at Coach Ben and noticed that he was busy talking to Natalie.

“Look over at Ben… He’s trying to pry what you and Natalie were talking about… Maybe you should be a little worried about what you said to her about me.” you said poking fun at her a little bit. Now it was Lottie’s turn to blush as she watched the exchange between her friend and your brother. “Oh god, he’s probably going to bribe her! This is so embarrassing!” she said worried about what Natalie was going to spill as Natalie made eye contact with her and smirked. “What did you two talk about anyways that has you all worried? I hope nothing bad about me?” you asked her genuinely as you looked back at her searching for answers. “Oh no– no it's not like that at all!” she said stumbling over her words as she looked back at you. “It's just that–” she cut herself off as she looked back at the two and then back at you before continuing “I just thought that you were really gorgeous and I felt bad that I got us into this situation!” she rambled before saying “I totally understand if you want to avoid me, but I really meant no harm,” she admitted as she waited for a response, but when she was met with silence she began again “I'm so sorry for making things so awkward…” she said quietly. You were blushing at her statement as you sheepishly smile at her, “I think you're pretty too…” you said as you gazed at her losing all your confidence. She ceased running and reached out for your arm to stop you from going on. “Really? Because if so I would love to get to know you more maybe after the run. If Coach, I mean your brother…” she corrected herself before continuing “even lets us.” She looks back at him noticing Natalie and Ben were deep in conversation and didn’t notice that the two girls quit running. She was confident until she noticed that she would have to face her Coach’s judgment and his opinion on her ability to even take care of his little sister.

You noticed her spiraling before jumping in “We can just go now? We can jump the fence and run off into the forest. He’ll never catch us.” you suggested smirking as you looked at Lottie as she decided on whether or not she should be rebellious. “...But what if he thinks I’m a bad role model and doesn’t let me see you again?” Lottie genuinely questions as she doesn't want to be on Ben’s bad side, but she also doesn’t want to pass up the idea of spending time with you. “Oh trust me, he won't be able to stop us because I’m sure we’ll figure out a way to escape him…” you stated as you waited for her response. She finally finishes fighting with her morals. “Let’s go before they catch us!” She said grinning widely as she reached out for your hand and starts guiding you as the two of you sprint towards the fence. As she climbs up the fence, she reaches her hand down to you from the top to offer assistance, and as you take her hand your brother notices.

“Y/n, you better get back here right now! And Lottie you’re dead if you hurt her! You won't be able to avoid me!” Ben yelled out frustrated at the two girls. As they sat on top of the fence you looked back at Ben and Natalie and waved with a bright smile on your face while Lottie looked a little scared at Ben’s threats, but was very happy to have the opportunity to be with y/n. Natalie looked amused at the two girls' actions as she watched them jump off the fence a laughing mess and acknowledge her coach's stress. “Get the girl, Lots! Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Nat yelled snickering as Ben looked at her disapprovingly. “If she’s not home by twelve Matthews I swear you will regret your choices and I will make sure of it!” He yelled out in a final attempt to make Lottie rethink her decisions. However, Lottie had her mind set on the goal of impressing y/n as the two girls ran off into the forest and made it out the other end and ended up on the sidewalk. They were still holding hands and Lottie looked down at y/n with a gentle smile before saying “Your brother scares me, but I think your worth any loose threat he sends to me.” she says chuckling. “I know just the perfect place we should go.” before leading y/n away….

(Nat and Ben’s Convo.)

“You need to focus more on the scrimmage rather than gossiping with Lottie the whole time.” Coach Ben announces straightforwardly as Natalie collects scrimmage vests after being voted to against her will. “We definitely were gossiping,” She says sarcastically as she watched the two girls run “Lottie has a lot to say about your little sister…” she smirks now not making eye contact with her Coach. “I swear if she said anything bad you better tell me. I will make both of you sprint the field until you’re physically ill,” he said passive-aggressively as he grew protective over her little sister. “Oh trust me… she had nothing but bad things to say,” Nat says as she watched her coach grow more frustrated. “You better tell me now…” he announced as the two girls made eye contact with Natalie. “She just kept on going about how your sister had beautiful eyes, hair that frames her face perfectly, how If you weren’t here she would have swept her off her feet by now, how good she looked in that little tank top—” Nat trailed off with a large smirk. “That’s enough now! I can’t let Matthews think she can win my sister before she even talks to me. She’s a bad influence!” He said rambling before Nat interrupted “Looks like your too late anyways!” she said full-out laughing now as she watched them jump the fence.

part two maybe?

(anyways i hope you enjoyed my first fic! also definitely will not proofread, sorry.)

#lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews imagine #yellowjackets imagine #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #lottie matthews #wlw

[kenshiluvr]

Heeeey could I ask for Kenshi with an reader where on a mission reader gets badly injured please?

aaa of course!! i love writing hurt/comfort :3

shooting star

kenshi takahashi/reader

summary: you get injured protecting him.

tags: major injuries, both reader and kenshi are protective of each other, they’re in love your honour, angst, hurt/comfort, good bf! kenshi, stargazing

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Haha, very funny.” Kenshi chuckles sarcastically after you made another bad joke. You’d been reading them to him for a whole hour, because you want to learn how to ‘out-dad-joke’ Johnny, even if neither of you had kids. You giggle, lay on his chest, scrolling through your phone. “How about this one. Two fish are in a tank. One of them turns to the other and says: ‘you know how to drive this thing?’” You giggle softly at the ridiculousness of the joke. “Little bit of army humour.” You muse, listening to Kenshi hum briefly. “Very little.” He notes, listening to your soft laugh.

Kenshi runs his fingers over your back, rubbing up and down gently. “Baby… surely we’ve gone through enough jokes by now.” He chuckles, shaking his head with amusement. “Aww, c’mon… just a few more?” You look from your phone to his, letting him kiss the bridge of your nose. “Nope. I’m not letting this continue. Unlike you, I cherish my sanity.” Kenshi laughs, carefully taking your phone from you. “Fine, fine. Spoilsport.” You shake your head, laughing a little. You and Kenshi had been dating for a little over a year now, always sticking together, everywhere he went you followed… even with his troubled past.

Kenshi appreciates you, and your bad jokes, you bring a light to his days that he was struggling to find. With the gruelling task of bringing his family’s name out of the Yakuza, of tracking down Sento… he felt any sense of normalcy slipping through his fingers like sand… but you kept him sane. You made him feel loved. “Get some sleep. I’m sure Johnny can listen to your jokes tomorrow.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Alright, alright.” You smile, stealing a quick kiss.

-

Trudging through harsh conditions, you follow Kenshi as he leads the way, being guided by the item that Liu Kang had given him to help find Shang Tsung. “Do you think we’re getting close?” You ask softly, glancing at the little compass in his palm. “I believe so…” Kenshi murmurs, glancing down at it as well. “Good… I think someone’s getting restless.” You chuckle softly, glancing back at Johnny, who had been whining the whole time. Kenshi hums softly, continuing on the path the compass was guiding him on.

Finally, you all arrive at a ledge, overlooking a grizzly fight between a group of human people and Tarkatan people. “What’s going on here..?” you murmur, brows furrowing. Kenshi hums, uncertain as well. Spotting Shang Tsung, you nudge your boyfriend, pointing the man out. Shang Tsung has a Tarkatan brought over, plunging a needle into his neck, drawing bone marrow. You grimace at the sight, turning away briefly. “This is… disgusting…” you murmur, eyes moving back to see the Tarkatan break free of his restraints, ready to harm the man your group had been searching for. “Come on. We can’t let him get killed.” Kenshi doesn’t hesitate, moving down to help. “Ken, wait-“ your eyes widen, scrambling to follow.

With a scrambled fight, you, Johnny and Kung Lao manage to disperse a few Tarkatans and humans alike, with you focusing on helping the imprisoned Tarkatans out of their shackles, giving them their freedom to escape this cruelty. Most give you wary looks, but a few nod thankfully and leave. Turning around, you see Kenshi in a strong fight with the Tarkatan that Shang Tsung had recently drawn bone marrow from, immediately moving over to try and help. Kung Lao grasps your arm, stopping you from jumping in, not wanting you to get harmed. “He can handle this.” He tells you calmly, bringing you back a little. “But-“ you glance from your friend to your boyfriend, eyes full of worry. “Relax. Kenshi’s a strong fighter.”

Sighing, you focus on finding out where Shang Tsung had escaped to. A pained grunt catches your attention, and your gaze immediately snaps back to Kenshi. “Ken!” breaking free from Kung Lao’s grasp, you run to his side. The Tarkatan he’s fighting scowls at the sight of you, drawing his Tarkatan blade from his forearm. You steel yourself, more focused on Kenshi’s safety than your own. With a hard slash, the blade slices into your side as if you’re made of paper. Kenshi’s breath hitches, watching the blood spill. Your name utters from his lips as he grasps you tight, feeling you crumple onto him. Johnny jumps in, finishing the fight for the two of you as Kenshi sits up, holding you tight to his body. “Baby… shh-shhh… i’ve got you.” Your boyfriend stresses, hand pressing to your deep wound. “What the hell were you thinking?!” Kenshi scolds, eyes full of worry as he holds you tight.

“Sorry- I-I didn’t think.” You chuckle weakly, resting your head to his shoulder. You feel dizzy, a lot of blood pouring from your wound. “C’mon, doll… stay with me.” He whispers, grimacing as your blood covers his tattooed hands. “Mhh… m’sorry.” You mutter, slumped to him. “Shh… it’s okay. Save your strength.” Kenshi’s other hand strokes your back, trying to keep you awake. “Stay with me baby,” he murmurs, voice cracking a little. “I need you.” Kenshi stresses, squeezing you close. If he lost you… he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

-

“Hey…” a soft voice whispers to you, two warm palms grasping one of yours gently as you stir awake. A pained groan leaves your lips, sighing softly. “Kenshi?” You mutter, blinking blearily. “Shhh… I’m here.” Your boyfriend moves one of his hands, pressing his knuckles to your forehead. “I thought I lost you. You fainted right there, in my arms…” Kenshi whispers, leaning down to gently kiss your cheek. “Scared me, baby…” he mutters, closing his eyes as his head rests against yours. “Sorry…” you whisper, voice hoarse, fingers weakly squeezing his.

“Don’t apologise. If it weren’t for you, I probably would of been killed by that Tarkatan.” He sighs, squeezing your hand in return. You hum weakly, leaning her head to his. “How long has it been?” You mumble, noting that you’re both back at the Wu Shi academy. “Shang Tsung, is he-“ you go to sit up, but your boyfriend eases you back down onto the bed. “Shh. Don’t push yourself. It’s been dealt with.” Kenshi murmurs, stroking your cheek gently. You sigh softly through your nose, closing your eyes in pain.

“Do you need anything?” Kenshi asks softly. “Painkillers… please..?” you whisper, fingers moving up to grasp his. “Of course.” Standing up, he kisses your fingers briefly before gently putting your hand down onto the bed for you. “I’ll be right back.” Kenshi assures you, stepping out of the room. He rushes right back, pills and water in hand, carefully sitting beside you on the bed. “Here, sweetheart.” Kenshi murmurs, helping you take the painkillers; he even feeds you the water, not wanting you to strain yourself.

“Thank you,” you murmur, threading your fingers through his. With a soft sigh, you press your head to his thigh. “Ken, baby… can we go outside? I wanna get some fresh air.” You mumble, looking up at him. Kenshi smiles softly. “Of course, sunshine.” He responds, stroking your cheek lovingly. Helping you up out of bed, he’s careful of the stitches on your side, supporting you as you walk. “Nice and slow… just take it easy.” He murmurs, holding your hands gently as he helps you outside.

Finding a bench, he sits you down carefully to give your side a rest, sitting beside you. It’s late, stars out overhead. Leaning to his side, you feel Kenshi’s arm circle around your waist. “Better?” He mutters, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you rest on his shoulder. “Yeah…” you smile, eyes turning up to watch the stars that dot the inky, dark sky. Spotting a shooting star, you nudge your boyfriend, pointing it out. “Hm. Would you look at that?” Kenshi muses, smiling a little. “Did you make a wish?” He asks, looking back at you. “Yeah. But I can’t tell you now, can I? Or it won’t come true,” you giggle softly, watching it disappear from sight. “Aw, c’mon… you can trust me with that secret.” Kenshi teases, laughing softly. “Mhm. Well, I guess I can tell you.” You respond, smiling softly. “I wished that, no matter what, we stay together.” You admit. Kenshi feels his heart flutter. “Baby, you don’t even have to wish for that.” Kenshi tells you, kissing your temple lovingly. “It’s already true. I’m not going anywhere.” He smiles, pulling you a little closer.

#kenshi takahashi #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi x you #kenshi x reader #kenshi x you #mk1 2023 #mk1 x reader #| kenshiluvr

[morallyinept]

A full character analysis on TIM ROCKFORD from the adverts for MERGE MANSION

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to learn more about the character. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

FULL CHARACTER STUDY:

Basic Details:

Full Name: Tim Rockford (Tim is often a shortened version of the full name Timothy, however he is only referred to as Tim in the commercials)

Nickname(s): None confirmed

Appears in: Merge Mansion Adverts, 2023

Age (if known): Unconfirmed, suspected on the range anywhere between mid-to-late forties/early-to-mid fifties, based on physical appearance

Sexuality: Not confirmed

Nationality: American, based in LA, however it's not confirmed where he's from specifically

Family: Not confirmed

Spouse/Partner: No mention of a current partner

Relationship Status: Not confirmed

Current Living Status: Alive

Languages Spoken: English

Education: Presumed at least college educated as he's a detective

Occupation:

Job Role/Title: LAPD Detective

Special Skill(s): Investigation, mystery/crime solving, weapons handling

Notable Colleague(s): None mentioned

Distinguishing Features:

Tattoo(s): Bullseye tattoo on left hand between thumb and forefinger (Pedro's own) however it is also missing in some shots/scenes. V letter tattoo on right wrist (Pedro's own).

Piercings: None

Scar(s): None notable

Other Markings: None notable

Prominent Feature(s): Slightly greying curled hair and beard/moustache

Injuries: Tim is not seen sustaining any injuries

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Brown/greying

Personality:

Traits: Questioning, determined, curious

Tim is part of the LAPD according to his detective badge (Los Angeles Police Department). His badge number appears to be either 2316 or 2516 when zoomed in, however the image is blurry to confirm either way 100%.

Tim is softly spoken with a grizzly cadence to his American accent.

Objects seen on Tim's desk include a small black bound notebook, evidence bags and photographs, his name plaque, a radio walkie-talkie, pencil pot, evidence numbers, keyboard and desk tidy, keys and a telephone

The total length of Pedro's seen screen time as Tim, across all 3 adverts, is approximately 48 seconds.

In late February 2024, the official Merge Mansion Youtube Channel & Instagram page, removed all of the adverts starring Pedro as Tim Rockford off their platforms. This is more than likely because his contract with Merge Mansion advertising has come to an end, and usually when this happens, the brand (the game in this case) will remove them ready for a new advertising campaign.

Fashion/Outfits:

Outfits - Tim wears a white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to his mid-arms, with dark brown slacks and a black leather belt with simple silver buckle design. He appears to be wearing a white tank top/vest undershirt/wifebeater under his shirt. He wears dark black shoes and a mid-length beige/tan trench coat. He wears a black and grey striped tie, in a single, loose knot. He is seen wearing a dark black suit blazer also.

Accessories: Tim wears a silver link watch on his left wrist. He wears thick black-rimmed spectacles. He wears his gold detective badge on his left hip. He wears a black leather, singular gun holster, with his gun holstered on the left side.

Weapons Used:

Weapon(s): (Exact weapons pictured below)

Tim's gun is only briefly seen and it's holstered. From the looks of it, it appears to be a standard issue Glock, possibly a Glock 17 or 19 model, which is usually synonymous with the LAPD.

Modes of Transport:

Vehicle(s):

Tim is driving a old vintage style car from the 70's/80's era. The car looks to be a 1979 Chevrolet Caprice model when compared with pics:

Dialogue:

🗨 See Tim's full dialogue from the adverts, including deleted scenes.

Further Character Links (if any):

Shoes Off - Merge Mansion Commercial, All Tim Scenes - Merge Mansion Commercials

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

#pedro pascal #tim rockford #detective tim rockford #pedro pascal characters #detective tim rockford merge mansion #merge mansion #pedro pascal character analysis #tim rockford character study

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Sonny Carisi: Last Call Ride 

The bar was a hole in the wall and on the seeder side of town. The air smelled of smoke, both cigarettes and weed when Sonny entered. He stopped short at the doorway. The bar was dead on a Tuesday night, but the crowd was rougher, and he stood out in his suit and tie, while most were wearing leather and jeans. This could not be the right bar, he looked down at his cell reread the name, and rechecked the address.  

“You Carisi?” A voice boomed; Sonny looked up to see a new man at the previously empty bar setting down a box on the floor. The man was just shorter than him but built like a grizzly bear with a head of thick dark hair and tattoos running up both of his thick arms and neck. Sonny did an assessing glance around the room before walking up to the bar silently wondering how many drug deals took place here.  

“Yeah, you the one who called me?” The man looked him up and down shaking his head slightly before grunting an affirmative. “Where is-” 

“I need to see your ID.” The man cut him off gruffly. Sonny scoffed at that. 

“I’m not here to drink-”  

“Clearly,” The man cut him off, “But I’m still gonna need to see some ID, to confirm who you are, before I let you take Chickadee anywhere.” Sonny's brows pulled together at the nickname for you that he had never heard. Part of him wanted to refuse anyway but even with its rough follow-through, the sentiment was protective. He fished out his wallet and handed the man his driver's license. He studied it, his eyes flickering back a couple times. “You’re not what I expected when she said she had a new boyfriend.” Sonny had a smart-ass comment on his lips when he heard the slamming of a door. The bathroom door, you were staggering out of it looking very drunk. “I was just gonna call her a cab, but she is too far gone for that.” The man offered him back his license. “Yo Chickadee, your boyfriend’s here.”  

You looked over from where you had been making your way to the closest stool at the bar. When you see Sonny your eyes light up as you slur his name. He makes his way over to you not liking your stumbling steps. You throw your arms around him hugging him tightly, “Hey sweetheart, where are your shoes?” You pull away from him and make a face before looking down and laughing loudly at your bare feet, wiggling your toes. Sonny looked you over and realized you had lost more than just your shoes. You were down to skintight jeans and a flimsy white tank top. 

The man behind the bar whistled as he set a pair of heeled shoes on the bar top. “Better put these back on before ya leave.” You gave the man a huge grin before heading over to the bar. You sat down on the stool and started to struggle with putting them on. The man started pulling other things out from behind the bar and setting them on the counter. Your cell phone, wallet, cardigan, and your jacket. Sonny pocketed your phone and wallet before turning to see you attempt to secure your shoe on the wrong foot. “Here give me your foot doll. No, the other one.” Sonny got both shoes on your feet and shrugged into your coat but you had flat-out refused to put the cardigan back on. You were too warm, and it was itchy, so he had thrown it over his arm instead.

“Here take this, try to sober up okay kiddo.” The bartender handed you a Styrofoam cup with ice water in it with a straw and lid. You get up to your knees on the barstool to lean over the bar and give him a hug which he returns, almost dumping the drink all over him in the process. “Tanks, Alec.” Sonny's hand finds you back when you start wobbling and then eases your feet onto the floor. 

The ride home is a harder feat than he anticipates. Sonny has never seen you drunk before and quickly comes to realize you are a handful and a half. Within a minute of him getting you in the passenger seat, you had already removed your coat and shoes. When he starts driving you put your hand on his knee. At first, it is innocent, but it doesn’t take long for you to get bold and slide up his thigh. His hand catches your right before it can hit its mark, “Easy now,” You pout at him and he tries to redirect you, “Why don’t you drink some of that water that the bartender gave you.” 

“Alec,” You reply helpfully, and you sit back in your seat momentarily distracted, and drink your water. You miss Sonny’s huff of irritation and ‘yeah, him’. The next few minutes are quiet. When you finish your water Sonny knows it instantly because you're leaning across the center console and kissing his neck, loosening his tie. Then you take your bra off from under your shirt and throw it onto his shoulder. When he turns to look at you, your hard nipples are visible through your thin top, it falls onto his lap.  

“Doll, I’m trying to drive. Hey, easy, easy.” Your hand was sliding down his stomach and reaching for his belt. His hand grabbed yours again. You whined his name as a complaint, and he redirected again bringing the offending hand up to his mouth to kiss. “We are almost back to the apartment sweetheart.”  

“Then you're gonna have your wicked wayy with me?” You slur licking up his neck. You had managed to unbutton his shirt three buttons and reveal a generous amount of skin for your mouth. Even drunk you knew what you wanted and were hell-bent on getting it. 

“Yeah, I’m going to take you to bed.” You giggle happily your other hand that isn’t held by his moving to hair playing with the short ones along the nape of his neck. He didn’t bother correcting your thoughts. Even though he was half hard in his pants from you teasing he knew there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was having sex with you when you couldn’t truly consent. He knew that drunk people had sex all the time and that it didn’t necessarily mean that it wasn’t consensual. But he had done too many years with SVU and the two of you were still fairly new in your relationship. He wasn’t willing to take the risk of you waking up with regrets even if you had just gotten a handful of his cock and were now groping at him through his pants. This was going to be a long night. 

He parked his car went around to your side, and smiled in slight amusement as he told you, “Give me your foot. No, the other one.” He didn’t even bother with the jacket that you didn’t want to wear and led you into his apartment building and into the elevator. He had thought you would get handsy again but instead was met with you telling him you had to go to the bathroom badly. It was a rush to unlock his apartment door and you stumbled to the bathroom quicker than he thought you were capable of in your current state.  

Sonny left you to it, as he warmed up some leftover pasta, found a bottle of ibuprofen, and filled up a large glass with more ice water. When you came wandering down the hall, he found that you had removed your shoes again and lost your pants leaving you in your tank top and cotton underwear. You grabbed his shoulders and pushed up on your tiptoes for an open-mouthed kiss. Sonny could taste the strong alcohol on your tongue and nothing else. He returned your kiss for a minute before breaking it to lead you to the couch where he had the pasta and water. You pout up at him as he sets you on the couch. “You need to eat something,” He pushes the bowl into your hands. Getting you to take the first bite is a challenge but after it hits your mouth you are shoveling it in suddenly starving. When you finish the bowl, Sonny places the water in one hand and four ibuprofen tablets in the other. “You’ll thank me in the morning.” 

You woke up with a groan. There was a pulsing pain behind your eyes and your mouth tasted of stale alcohol. You could feel the telltale signs of a hangover overtaking your senses. You glance around the room and note that it isn’t your apartment that you're at but Sonny’s. You slowly push yourself up to a sitting position and note that you are naked aside from Sonny’s dress shirt, with only two buttons holding it closed. One by your belly button and the other at your breasts. The shirt was higher on one side from the buttons not being matched up in the proper holes.  

You groaned wondering how badly you had embarrassed yourself the night before. You didn’t remember calling him for a ride but apparently, you had at some point. You had only started drinking because you had been having a bad day, not at work but with your family. You hadn’t meant to get that wasted. You crawl out of bed only because you have to go to the bathroom badly. You're a little shaky on your feet while you're washing your hands when Sonny leans in through the open doorway, “How are you feeling?” You lean back against the sink. 

“Hungover,” You pull awkwardly at the shirt to fix the hemline then remembering you can’t without rebuttoning it. “I’m sorry about last night.” 

“You don’t have to apologize. I don’t mind picking you up ever.” You chance a look at him, and he looks tired like he had had a long night himself. 

“I’m just glad that I had the sense to call you.” His eyebrows furrow, and he smooths your tangled bedhead.  

“You didn’t call me. You don’t remember last night at all do you?”

You sigh and shake your head embarrassed. "Barely, bits and pieces."

“Your bartender friend, the one that looks like Hercules with a neck tattoo, he called me to come get you.” You pause staring at him for a minute before it clicks.  

“Oh, you mean Alec.” 

“Yeah him.” Your head is still pulsing, but you can see the way his face changes and his voice gets an edge to it. “Why were you even at a bar like that? In that neighborhood?” You feel confused and slightly defensive as you answer.  

“I was visiting family. Not all of us come from Staten Island.”  

He instantly softens, “I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean it like that. You drunk in a neighborhood like that- It just makes me nervous. My job has made me paranoid. All the things that could have happened.” You’re still not used to Sonny’s willingness to apologize. You’re used to fighting until the bitter end with your Exes and it leaves you slightly out of sorts. It makes being softer and talking things out easier, but it still leaves you uncomfortable with the unfairness.  

“It’s okay, but I do know how to take care of myself, Sonny. I wouldn’t have drank that much if I didn’t feel safe. Alec wouldn’t have-” Sonny scoffed at his name, and you cut off abruptly and then you smirked at your boyfriend. “Oh, I get it.” 

“Get what?” 

“You’re jealous.” 

“No,” He denies before continuing, “Well, yeah, maybe. I mean the guy looks like a damn gladiator. You are all smiles and hugging up on him while he’s smirking calling you ‘Chickadee’. Yeah, why would that make me jealous.” You laugh even as it makes your head throb. 

“I’ve known Alec since elementary school when he was a scrawny preteen. And that cute little nickname was a tease at the fact that I didn’t shut up when I was a kid and it stuck. I was Chika dee dee deeing all the time.” You push off the sink and wrap your arms around his hips, “He called you because he knew that I trusted you to take care of me. Besides, I went home and slept with you.” 

“We didn’t sleep together doll.” Sonny admonished as he caressed your back.  

“We didn’t?” You sound surprised as you search his eyes, “Really? I vaguely remember getting up close and personal with you on the way home. And I know I get handsy when I’m drunk. Did I fall asleep before I could fallow through?” 

“No, you were awake, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. I had a hell of a time keeping clothes on you and me.” Sonny gestured to your sleep shirt. You leaned down and smelled the shirt. You could smell Sonny’s aftershave and cologne still lingering on it. He had probably been wearing it the night before. 

“I’m confused,”  

“You were drunk, way past the ability to give consent.” Sonny's face is serious and he is using his ADA voice, but you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you.  

“Baby, my hands were down your pants, and I was taking my clothes off. How much more enthusiastic consent did you want?” You tease, leaning farther into him.  

“This thing with us is still new. I didn’t want you to wake up and regret anything.” You smile at him then reach up to cup his jaw turning it and pulling down his t-shirt collar to reveal more of his neck. There was a trail of dark hickeys and love bites starting at his pulse point and making their way down his neck. You trail your fingers over the bruises. You had done a number on his neck. “You didn’t make it easy on me.”  

“Yeah, I can have that effect.” You pause, “Well for future reference if I come onto you while I’m drunk like that again as long as I’m willing and awake you have my consent to sex me up. I love a good round of drunk sex.” 

“Noted,” Even as Sonny said it you knew he felt a little uncomfortable with the idea, “How about a shower? I can wash your back.” His fingers slid down your back pulling you closer to him. 

“You saying I stink?” You ask even as your fingers undoes the first button.  

I swear every Sonny story I write comes completely out of nowhere and won’t leave me until I finish it. I hope you guys enjoyed this xoxo  

#law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #svu #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x you #carisi #dominick carisi

[happyk44]

The air was quiet for once. No monsters, no boulders hurtling their way. No vicious winds. Nothing. Smooth sailing.

Frank knew it wouldn't last but he drank it in as much as he could. The temperature this high was was low, not yet freezing, but like the fresh burst of cold signalling the end of fall and the onslaught of winter. Everyone had taken to wearing jackets when they were on deck, especially at night, when the sun wasn't there to give them some faint reprieve of warmth.

Well, everyone except Frank. And Jason.

Nobody bothered them about it. But sometimes, when they moved higher up, where the air waa too thin and freezing, they would side-eye him. Hazel's look was always curious behind her scarf. The others though... they looked confused, concerned. Staring like something was wrong with him.

He tried to shrug it off the way Jason did. But Jason didn't get that look as much as Frank did. Jason was a child for the sky. Of course, thin breathless air wouldn't bother him as much. Of course, freezing winds did nothing to him. He could probably survive at the edge of the atmosphere, where sky and space meet. Floating there like an untethered astronaut, yet happy nonetheless. Perfectly fine.

It didn't work on Frank the same way. Mars was orderly bloodlust and head-on battles. Sturdy feet pounding sturdier ground.

What wars were fought in the air back in the ancient days? Even now, fighter pilots wore oxygen masks to beat the thinness, had shielding to keep them safe from the enemy and the cold. Nico even wore an old leather jacket - the same one they wore in their jets back in the day. Because who wanted to emergency eject into the frozen clouds without one?

Frank was still made of war. But he also had the lungs of a bird, and the heated blood of grizzly. He didn't freeze. And he breathed easy.

It was a bittersweet thing. He hadn't even considered it until Hazel came out on deck one night with a jacket for him to wear and he had realized he wasn't cold. When her voice had gone heavy with the effort to speak and he realized he wasn't struggling with the altitude the way he was supposed to.

His abilities just kicked in naturally. The same way they did when he went to sleep and woke up curled into a wolfish ball.

Some days he dreamed about walking with Hazel in a meadow of flowers and horses and he'd look up at her, paws muddy, drool escaping down his teeth and she'd teasingly chastise him for wanting to chase the horses around. Some days he dreamed about blood dripping from his maw and down his claws. And he'd wake up, animal in form, and worry about why he was losing his humanity in his dreams.

Because you're losing it in reality, he thought.

He tightens his fists and hopes for a fight to come soon. He couldn't be here alone in silence with his thoughts, with the knowledge that he was becoming something other. He wasn't unfamiliar with being othered by the world - Chinese to the white kids in school, Canadian to the Americans at Camp Jupiter. Fatherless. Raised by his grandmother. Fat, awkward, shy. He didn't have ADHD or dyslexia - not like every other demigod. He was othered a lot through pure existence.

That didn't mean he wanted to add inhuman to the list.

"Don't let it get to you."

Frank startled.

Jason sat on the railing, staring up at the stars. His legs swung off into the dark. He was wearing a black tank top, and cargo shorts, without socks or shoes. He relaxed, soaking in the frozen air. It puffed white with every exhale.

"What are you talking about?" Frank asked with an instinctual cock of his head. Like a dog. He righted his head up and straight, gritting his teeth. His nails cut into his palm.

Jason snorted and swung around. There was a strange delicacy in Jason when he was in the air. Leo called him Superman, but that wasn't it. Yeah, he was bulky like the hero, and flew like the hero. But any delicacy in Superman came from Clark Kent. Not from his powers.

Jason was like a dancer. Weightless, and gentle. Even harsh and forceful movements looked graceful on him. It was when he was on the ground he became a pounding unnatural force. Like a tank.

In the air, he was a ballerina, swift and full of motion, captivating. On the ground, he was a war machine, destructive and explosive.

It made sense in a way. Lightning cut the air with nothing more than a burning sizzle. But it exploded the earth when it hits. Shattered trees and destroyed houses. A storm was nothing when it bustled around in the empty air. Speeding wind and flooding rains. They meant nothing to the sky. But when it hit the ocean, hit the earth - everything broke.

Jason hopped off the railing. He landed without sound. "I see you, Frank. Sometimes you look at yourself in the mirror or the glass of a window, and you look confused. Like you don't know what you're looking at."

He approached, slow. Like a human nearing a stray cat. Frank felt almost feral. It was under his skin, prickling. Raw. He didn't like that Jason could see him.

But he didn't like that he thought human and not person. That he was comparing himself to the feral cats he used to help capture with the SPCA for the volunteer hours.

That Jason was right.

It scared him. He couldn't see his face. He knew it was his. Nothing had changed. But when he looked in the mirror, he felt like he was looking at a stranger.

He knew what it is. Once, when his mother came home from deployment, he caught her staring empty at her reflection. When she spotted him, she'd asked him, offhand but knowing, what he saw when he looked at her.

My mom, he said.

She'd grinned, just a bit too small. So I still look like myself then?

Of course, he'd said with a frown. Why wouldn't you?

She explained it to him later, gently, over cookies and tea. Depersonalization. A subsect of dissociation. She had explained it away, like it was just the result of seeing herself covered in mud so much she couldn't remember what she looked like clean. Acting like it wasn't the result of trauma, depression, PTSD.

It doesn't hurt, she'd assured him. And I know it's still me. I just can't tell.

You should go to a doctor, Frank has said, tucked under her arm even though he was too big for that anymore.

She had laughed and kissed the top of his head. I will, she promised. When I'm finished with this one.

And then she left, again, and then she died.

It wasn't until now that he wondered if it was really the trauma of war that made her unable to see herself in the mirror. Or if it was a combination of that and her own shapeshifting ability. Did she turn a lot? To save her fellow soldiers? To protect herself?

He knew she did it in her final moments. That she was brave. But did she do it a lot before then? Did she lose herself the way he was?

He didn't look in the mirror and wonder why his eyes were brown or his teeth were flat. Didn't look at his hands and wonder why his nails weren't claws or why his skin was so hairless. Didn't think he needed to be on all fours, or find speech difficult. But he did feel that otherness in his reflection. A sense of that isn't me when he stared back at himself.

He knew it was. That his brain was lying to him.

But he still couldn't see himself.

Sometimes his skin felt wrong. The world seemed a little warped. Like he was looking at it from the wrong angle. But no matter how much he moved around, it wouldn't go back to normal.

He felt satiated by Hazel's presence. The sensation of "everything is wrong" fell mostly to the background with her.

But he couldn't cling to her like a koala with separation anxiety. That wasn't fair to her. She wasn't required to fix his problems. And she was already holding onto his lifeline, keeping it safe, just for him.

He couldn't ask more of her. To help him reangle a world that had never changed.

Jason crossed his arms. His smile looked like Frank's mom's that night - just a bit too small. Then he glanced away. "I can't see myself either."

Breath caught in Frank's throat.

"I don't think it's a fixable thing for me," Jason went on. "And it might not be for you either. I was raised by wolves. I don't..." He laughed quietly and ducked his head. "I don't think of myself as human. Not consciously anyway. My mother was a wolf, my siblings were wolves. I feel more like a puppy plucked out of the bin and handed off than a human person."

Frank exhaled shakily. "So what do you do about it?"

Jason was quiet. His eyes were focused on the ground, brows furrowed. Then, "Nothing." He looked up to Frank. Blue eyes bore back at him. "There's nothing I can do. I am a wild child." He shrugged. "You can't scrub it out of me."

"So... I'm just gonna be stuck like this?" His nails bore deeper into his skin. Conscious effort rang out to keep them from becoming claws. "Feeling like the world is wrong because my brain can't decide if I'm a human or an animal?"

"I don't know what I am either," Jason said. "Even with the wolves, I knew I wasn't one of them. Not really. I didn't have fur. I didn't have claws or full rows of fangs. I knew how to be a wolf, but no one is ever going to look and think I'm one." His arms dropped to sides. He drew in closer. "But I just don't let it get to me."

He leaned against one of the mast poles and tilted his head up to the stars.

"That's kind of the nice thing about being part-animal." He grinned ruefully. "Well, animal animal, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

Jason looked back at Frank, for just a second before his eyes scanted away. He'd never noticed it before. He didn't get to Camp Jupiter until after Jason disappeared and they hadn't hung out enough once he camp back until just now. But Jason never really met someone's eyes. Only in battle, when the goal was dominance.

He looked all over, but eyes were a fraction of a second. Never landing purposely.

"Animals don't really care what you are. Wolves will adopt a human child and raise him. Ducks adopt chicks. Cats will take in kittens from another litter." He closed his eyes. "Because it doesn't matter in the end. We live, we hunt, we eat, we die. Who cares if your child is hairless and stands on two legs? Do they follow you? Do they represent what it means to be a wolf? To be a duck, or a cat, or a monkey? Do they accept your nature as much as their own?" He gestured upwards to the sky. "Do they understand nature as it is?"

Frank tilted his head back to stare up at the stars. They glistened and glittered in the black. It was a cloudless night. Everything was so clear. He felt almost as though he could reach out and touch one.

"People say there's no evolutionary benefit to animal adoption. Adopting a newborn, especially when you haven't lost any of your own, expends more energy." Jason sank down to a sit. His eyes were still closed. "Adopting a newborn outside your species doesn't carry on your genes. Doesn't keep your species running."

Frank thought of his bird lungs and grizzly blood. Sitting down next to Jason, he said, "It's symbiotic."

"Sometimes," Jason agreed. "Sometimes it's beneficial on both ends. Sometimes mothers are just nurturing. And sometimes it's just help." He spread his legs. "I brought the elder wolves their food when they could no longer hunt. My sister nursed our nieces because her mother died. Lupa brought me and they cared because I needed it. Can you help? Would it hurt you or the pack to help? Sometimes those are the only questions that matter."

He gestured loosely. "Animals aren't perfect. Brood parasitism for one thing. Fish and insects and rabbits eat their young. Some animals attack others for fun. But humans aren't perfect either, so what does it matter why animals adopt?"

A gentle breeze slid through their hair. Jason looked utterly at ease. Frank felt... Not serene. No. But. Calmer, almost. It sank inside him like a heavy fog. Foreign and strange, but ultimately fine. The fog wasn't too dense. Visibility was decent. Right now, it was okay.

He looked down to his hairless clawless hands. "No one ever asks why humans adopt."

Jason grinned, flashed all his teeth. "No. They don't." He looked away. "No one ever says so, but when I came to camp..." He shook his head. "People think the wolves took care of me because of Juno and my father. But they took care of me because I was their pup. If I wasn't, I would've been trained like everyone else. Not immersed in what it means to be a wolf." He gave a soft smile. "I used to call Lupa 'Mom'. She made me stop a couple months before I had to leave, but.."

His smile dipped and he looked up to the stars. His bright blue eyes seemed to glow.

"The wolves were my family. I didn't know anything else."

Frank pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm not like you. You're... mixed." He snorted. "Human-passing, but raised in an all wolf household. That's your... culture. Your world. Even if people don't believe it when you say so. But I'm..."

"The opposite." He nodded. Jason nudged him with his shoulder. "That doesn't mean you can't learn. Wolf. Bird. Bear. You can find what it means to be them."

The wind whistled. Far below the deck, he could hear the faint sounds of snoring. He rubbed at his ear, wishing away whatever animal hearing chose to ignite itself. "What if I forget how to be human?"

Jason sighed. "Frank. The only way you could stay fully human is to give up being an animal. You'd have to stop shapeshifting."

Stop being himself.

Frank never considered himself a mixed child. He didn't even know what his father looked like until recently. And that was ambiguous at best. Gods could look however they chose. Who was to say he didn't look Chinese when he met his mom?

But the parallels remained. He knew other kids who were mixed. Kids who were out of touch with their Chinese side. Kids who were jealous he could speak Cantonese, even if limited, because their family wouldn't teach them. Or their Chinese parent didn't know it at all.

His grandmother was strict about maintaining their culture even so far away from where they came from. But he knew other immigrants weren't the same way. That they did away with it all to assimilate. Not just Chinese families, but all kinds of ethnicities and cultures. Even some white families. Dropping away their heritage so they could mask in with the Canadians. So they could pick up the new customs and social order faster. So their kids wouldn't get bullied. So life could be easier.

And now, in the modern hustle and bustle of cultural appreciation, there were people who knew nothing about the place their families came from. They could walk into those countries and blend in physically, but never verbally, never emotionally, never culturally.

Did Frank want that for himself? To match with the other birds on the branch but never have a clue about how to act other than to fly and tweet? To blend in with the wolves, but know that Jason, with his furless skin and flat teeth, was more wolf than him?

Did it matter? He wasn't really part-animal. Not like Jason. Shapeshifting was a power. But it wasn't separate from him. When he held too long in a form, he could feel himself start to sink in. He was still Frank, but more Frank the bear, angered that someone threatened his cub, than Frank the human, angered that someone threatened Hazel.

And shapeshifting...

It was culture, wasn't it? His mom used it. His grandmother used it. All the great, great, greats used it if they had it. It was part of his family. Like a tradition passed down.

So if he stopped, wouldn't he be abandoning part of his culture?

Animals believed in survival - for their species or one they plucked from the whorls of loneliness. They nurtured the young, cared for the old, visited graves. Died and let their descendants consume the grass they grew. They fought to protect, to live.

His grizzly blood quickened in veins. Hotter. Warmer, against the cold. Shapeshifting was Frank's survival, as bitter lightning was Jason's, as deadly gold was Hazel's, and a sudden hurricane was Percy's.

He couldn't throw it away.

"I'm never going to recognize myself in the mirror, am I?"

Jason sighed. It was a quiet sad thing and it made Frank's bird lungs stutter.

"No," Jason said. "You won't. You won't feel wholly human either. Or wholly like an animal. Whichever one you choose. Bear, bird, wolf. Or everything, all of them." He turned and caught Frank's eyes. "But you'll know who you are." He looked away. "I've found that's the thing that really matters."

They weren't mixed kids. Finding solace in both worlds - human and animal - was never going to put the world right again. And Frank doubted that every child of an immigrant and every mixed kid who discovered and immersed themselves in forgotten traditions and customs would suddenly feel 100% in place either.

But they would know who they were. Who all the people who came before them were. How life was lived before migration.

Maybe he wasn't part animal, the way Jason was, or the way other feral children were, raised by wolves and monkeys and bears. Any animal that came across a miserable child and decided to help.

But grizzly bear warmth coursed through his skin and kept him hot despite the cold. Bird lungs kept him breathing easy in the thin air. Wolf teeth protected his friends. Ram horns shoved back monsters. Goldfish gills and scales kept him alive in the water. Dragonfly wings let him buzz quickly through the air.

His mother fed stray cats and dogs. She encouraged Frank to be kind to animals that passed by. His grandmother put out bird feed and spoke loudly to them when they came to eat. Cats brought birds to their owners. Crows came back with shiny things for people who helped them.

No, he wasn't part-animal. But animals kept him alive. Who was he to not show respect to the ones that helped him? Even if it made him unrecognizable to himself.

Was that why his grandmother was so strict about their culture? Did she lose her humanity too? Unable to see herself in the mirror and deciding she wasn't going to lose her ancestry along with it?

"Nice teeth," Jason murmured.

Frank ran his tongue along sharp fangs. Even his tongue felt different - wider, longer. His mouth hadn't changed, not externally anyway. But he could feel his tongue start farther in his throat to accommodate the new length. His uvula wasn't where it should've been. Of course it wasn't. It was probably further down, somewhere in throat. Or just gone. If it stayed where it was in a normal human, the thickness of his tongue and its new starting place would've immediately gagged him.

"It just happens sometimes," Frank said, focusing mentally on flat teeth, a human tongue, his uvula at the top of his mouth. "I don't know why."

"Let it." Jason stretched his arms up over his head. "Animals don't deny their instincts, why should you? We have them for a reason."

Frank considered that. Thought of his grandmother, sick, frail, and a bird flying out of the house before it came crumbling down. Thought of her speaking loudly to the birds that came to eat. How similar the two looked.

He let his wolven fangs rest where they formed, but kept his human tongue. The other felt too strange to have in a human head.

Jason reached out and traced his nail over one. Then pulled back and turned back to the stars. "I can teach you what it means to be a wolf, if you want," he said.

Frank traced his fangs once more. Then smiled. "I'd like that."

#this was supposed to be about depersonalization and i accidentally turned it into a mixed kid metaphor 😑 #am i mad about it? no. but am i kinda annoyed it deviated from the intended plan? yeah #frank zhang #wolf!jason #jason grace #my writing #my fanfic #happy talks pjo #anyway idc if this doesn't make sense i havent eaten all day so im gonna go do that now okay bye 👍

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit, part two

Bearshifter!Price AU

Rated M for later chapters

Part One

The locals think he winters down south, tease him about Brits not being built right. He lets them, allows himself to remain a tourist in their lives, essentially. Just one more impermanent face in a sea of seasonal relationships. It's better that way. Less questions. Makes it harder, though, when he returns to town already on the lookout for someone. Normally, John settles into his human life like an old, worn blanket: cozy, familiar, the very smell of it relaxing. This year, his bear is slow to recede, grumbling in the back of his mind for whole days, eager and anxious by turns. He hasn't caught hide nor hair of the little rabbit about town, and he's distracted every moment. It's never easy preparing for the high traffic tourist season, but it makes his life particularly difficult when he can't properly taste this year's batch of bourbon for the cloying scent of rabbit which now lives in his maw. Simon says it's good which is good enough for John. He usually waits until May to open the pub so as not to tank on profits during the slower months, but the possibility she may wander in one day looking for a nice drink drives him to desperate measures. He mans the bar himself to save money. If Simon thinks it's strange, he doesn't comment; not that Simon ever comments on much, the brooding bastard.

Weeks go by without seeing her. John gets grumbly, only placated by her unrelenting scent in the air. She's here, somewhere. Hasn't skipped town yet. His bear rages every time the sun goes down without John having set off in search of her. He resists at first, not wanting to scare her further somehow, but bears are not known for their patience, and the very real fact that there's no way she could know he was the oversized grizzly that terrorized her eventually draws him out of hiding.

The bar is closed on Mondays. John usually spends them high in the mountains, reaffirming his turf, but when Monday dawns slow and golden, John knows instantly what he'd rather be doing with his day off. He starts slow, savors it. Spends his morning at a hole-in-the-wall diner which caters to locals more than tourists. Her scent is strong here, but not fresh. A dinner patron, maybe. Clever little rabbit, avoiding the pricier spots downtown. John sits at the counter where her scent is strongest and sips his tea, resisting the urge to ask the waiter if they served a sweet little lamb the night before. The last thing he needs is this local going around telling everyone their resident Brit is a creep. But his bear is discontent with the slow hunt so he moves on shortly after finishing his plate.

Next is the local gym. He doesn't have a membership so he doesn't enter but neither does he need to. The scent of artificial strawberries is stronger here and he surmises she's already showered and left. He finds no trace of her near any of the lodges, which makes sense if she's made a bed of her car, but makes his job harder. No matter, he's got all day.

NFS is less strict during the off season, but John doubts she will have gotten away with parking in the same place for weeks so he hops in his car and takes a long drive by all the roadside stops east of Lake McDonald. He finds her Jeep somewhere out by Fish Creek but she's nowhere in sight. That's alright. There's a short trail leading back to the campground nearby, mostly thawed out and muddy. John wanders along, lets instinct take control. She's here, scent subtle amongst the mud and heady smell of actual small game, like sniffing out an overflowing beehive amidst scraggly squirrel and pungent pine. Hard to come by, worth the effort.

He finds her scrambling along a small ridge, chest puffing with the effort of the short climb. Good girl, better suited for a slow hunt. Mate, his bear decides, and he has to bite his cheek to stop from chuffing at her.

"'Morning," He calls from the top of the rickety stairs NFS has kindly provided for soft creatures like her. He'd meant to announce his position so as not to scare her, but her head whips up at the sound of his approach like a deer that's caught his scent anyway. Smart rabbit.

"Uh, 'morning." She's short of breath, self conscious about it. John knows what he looks like in the spring, all lean muscles. He hates it, is embarrassed by it under normal circumstances but especially when it sets round little sows like her on edge. Human women who look like her aren't accustomed to men who look like him being nice, he's learned.

"Early start of it?"

She frowns up at the clear sky. "Not really?"

"Meant for the season, sorry. You local?" He's descended to her level now, the smell of honey and her exertion nearly lethal. His tongue grows heavy.

She raises a brow at him, doesn't answer the question. "Are you?"

He laughs, knows she's referring to his accent. "Seasonally. John, by the way."

She eyes his hand warily but accepts it. She introduces herself and John rolls it around on his tongue, testing. She must like the way it sounds with his accent because she blushes prettily at that. "What do you mean by seasonally local?"

"Winter down south," he lies, hoping maybe it endears him to her nomad way of life.

Instead, her grin borders on cruel. "Can't hack the cold?"

"Ah, so you are a local."

She laughs and John is instantly addicted. "Not quite, but I'm no stranger to a hard winter."

His bear can't help but appraise her broad figure again, appreciating how full she's kept herself despite that. Good mate, good girl. Fatted rabbit. It's hard to speak past the saliva pooling on his tongue. "Where you from, then, honey?"

If she finds the pet name odd, she doesn't comment. Probably not in her best interest, as his bear preens at that. "New York, originally," she tells him easily. "But like. Very far upstate. Up in the mountains. But I've been living in Dallas for… a while."

She's rambling. It's cute. "Missed the hard winters, did you?"

"Something like that. What brings a Brit up this way?"

"Money. Got a distillery, and a bar back in Columbia Falls. Tourists go crazy for that shite."

She laughs again. John tucks it away between the flavors of his favorite cigars and his mother's name. "Are you admitting your product is tourist trap trash, then?"

"Admitting it? That's what I named the company." His grin is all teeth, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"Well, can't say I visited a place unless I fall into a trap at least once, can I? I'll have to check it out."

He can't deny the mental image has its appeals. "Look forward to it." He hopes his smile is more inviting this time. He's already planning what he'll serve her.

"Nice to meet you, John," she grins and then carries on her way. John can be patient when needed, but his bear is displeased by that.

***

He's even less pleased when a week passes without a visit. John falls to pieces a bit when he steps onto his roof one night and notices a distinct lack of honey on the breeze. When his bear demands a walk through the forest, he doesn't fight it, letting instinct drag him half across the park in search of the Jeep he'd marked. He doesn't find her. He opens the pub late the next day, too tired to make it in on time. Simon eyes him critically, but again doesn't comment.

The next day finds him nursing his hurt pride, consoling the upset beast which resides in his chest with a frankly absurdly large lunch in the kitchen when the bell announces a visitor. It is, however, redundant. John is already ferrying his food to the shop front, working a massive bite between his strong jaws to abate the hunger the breeze has carried in: honey and strawberries. She smiles at him shyly when she spots him, sidles on up to the bar and chooses a seat a safe distance from him, as if she's afraid he's going to pull her over the bar and eat her too. Smart rabbit.

He waits until he's worked through his bite before speaking, white knuckling his hold on humanity. "Nearly gave up on you," he says by way of greeting. His voice is gruff and deep; for a second he's worried he's slipped into his other form.

"Your own fault. Thought you'd given me the slip, giving me the wrong name," she teases. He's about to protest when she waves a coaster at him. Last Resort Bourbon Bar. Of course.

He smirks. "Turned out the other name was bad for business."

"And calling yourself a last resort option is better?"

"It's a pun! Cause we're-."

"So close to the border, yeah. Would make more sense if you offered lodging, though, eh?"

"You saying you wanna spend the night?"

She blinks owlishly, drops the coaster, stammers, "That's not - uh -."

John smiles indulgently, winking. "Right, I'll buy you a drink first," he offers as he washes his hands and pours her a glass. He picks a lighter line, sniffing out the sweet notes. "We recommend on ice for your first taste, that good?"

"Y-yeah." She's blushing up to her ears. He nearly growls in contentment.

"Lunch?" he asks as he supplies her drink.

She takes a sip like it's a lifeline. He gives her the moment to recover without comment, waits for her nod of approval before smiling back. "Sure. What've you got going on over there?" She asks, nodding to his heaping pile of meats, cheeses, and fruits. She's probably asking for a charcuterie board of her own but he chooses to believe she wants his. He desperately wants to share it with her, see her picking the food from his own plate, but he'd rather get her something more filling.

"Nothing good. You like fish?"

She does an adorable little wiggle: a motion with her head as if weighing her options, but carried on through her whole body. "What kind of fish?"

"Trout. Squash puree. Goes good with that lighter blend," he points to her glass.

She squints at him, feigned affront. "You starting me off with the easy stuff?"

"You don't seem like much of a bourbon girl," he shrugs.

She smiles, nods in defeat. "Not much of a drinker, to be honest."

"I can fix that."

She scoffs, surprised. "Well you'll have to do better than this," she teases, shaking her glass at him and he laughs happily.

"Told you it was shite."

"Let's hope your fish is more appetizing, eh?"

John can't help but grin happily, shoving a handful of grapes into his maw as he wanders back into the kitchen, savoring the way they pop under his teeth, coating his jowls in their juices. Simon is in the kitchen because of course he is. He leans back against a counter, arms crossed, gaze just as silent and skeptical as always. John gets to work starting the food.

"Thought you were supposed to be at the distillery today?"

"Why are you offering food if you didn't think I was back here?" When John ignores him, he continues blandly, "Bit early for the dinner menu."

"Repeat customer potential."

"Oh? She local?"

"Seasonal," John lies. Honestly she could hop in her mobile little burrow and disappear from his life tomorrow. The thought makes his chest hurt so he ignores it.

Simon hums noncommittally and moves to peek out the window to the bar. "She's cute."

John can't help the low growl that builds in his chest. Thankfully, it's too bass for human ears. "Yes."

"Want I should take over back here so you can get back out there, cap?"

Simon only ever calls him that sarcastically. Means he's teasing John's obvious crush. Well, jokes on him, John has no shame when it comes to the sweet little treat sitting pretty at his bar. "Sure do, thanks. Give a shout if you need help."

Hard to tell when Simon frowns behind that mask, but John takes sick pleasure in the way his shoulders fall the slightest bit. It's short lived though; Simon is never on his back foot for long. "Same to you, cap."

John bares his teeth at the man, passes it off as a nasty grimace when he remembers that's not a normal human reaction. Simon's laugh follows John out into the bar but any lingering annoyance he may have felt dies in his chest when he finds his sweet, soft girl picking at the plate he's left behind. She blushes up to her hairline at being caught, but it settles something deep within him to see her sharing in his feast, trusting him enough not to snarl and snap over what should be his, but what his bear is very rapidly designating theirs.

Good mate.

John's lived through plenty of rut seasons by now. He's been enamored many times, but this is different. Mainly because he isn't in a rut, sure, but also because his bear isn't usually so focussed on one singular potential mate. A parade of half the fat, fertile women in the state could wander by outside his bay window right now and John doesn't think he'd so much as lift his nose in beastly assessment. Why would he? He's got the juiciest rabbit he could ever dream of right here, eating off his plate like a good, docile little creature.

She's still flustered about being caught eating his food, poor thing. He doesn't really know what to say about that, brain still grinding gears, trying to climb up out of basic animal instinct. Instead, he smiles warmly and slides the plate closer as he comes to stand in front of her, leans into her space a bit as he shoves a pretentiously thin sliced piece of ham into his mouth. Honestly, if you're going to eat a pig, you'd best be prepared for a mouth full. Humans drove him crazy sometimes. The rabbit is blushing less by now, but doesn't make a move to steal another bite until he tells her to try the provolone. He's immensely satisfied when she does.

"You know, you said this was shit but it's pretty good."

"Better with company."

She blushes again. "Sorry about that. I skipped breakfast. Didn't realize how hungry I was until I was staring down a pile of berries."

John shakes his head. "I don't mind, honey."

She's wary again, though getting more curious. A deer with a salt lick, clever thing. "You said this place was seasonal? Aren't you open a bit early?"

He spreads some jam on a bit of bread and pushes it at her, preens when she nibbles at it. "Stumbled my way back a little ahead of schedule this year, figured I may as well be social."

"Hmm. Not much else to do, is there?"

"Still a bit early for most places, yeah, but the trails are usually pretty empty this time of year which can be nice. If you're into hiking, that is."

"I used to go all the time, back home. Haven't had much opportunity lately. Trying to get back into it, but I may have set my sights a bit high," she laughs, "Probably should've stuck with the bunny hills back east for now."

"Nonsense. I think you're in the perfect spot," he winks.

Her smile is warm, but maybe a little thinner than it had been. "It's been pretty good to me so far. You're a snowbird, you said? Where do you go in the winter?"

"Phoenix." It's the same lie he tells everyone. He's only ever been there once. He lives in constant fear of stumbling upon a chatty native one day blowing up his spot.

"Never been. Is it nice?"

He shrugs. "Well it doesn't drop to Mars temperatures so it has that going for it."

She just laughs, rolls her eyes at him. "You're a baby. I'd rather Mars temps than Mercury, personally. I hated living in Dallas. Not built right for those summers."

"Now who's the snowbird?" He teases.

"Never denied being a nomad."

He panics, thinking about how she could up and leave the state at any moment. "What brings you out this way, then? Just good trails?"

Suddenly, all the syrupy warmth he'd slowly been coaxing out of her freezes up. She's locked tight, a deer with his scent again. "Yeah. Never been, so, thought I'd give it a shot."

John frowns at her, is about to comment on the obvious lie when Simon rings the order bell about twenty times just to be an arse. John sighs, excuses himself. Simon doesn't grin as a rule, but he does manage to look quite smug anyway when John enters the kitchen. "Order up," he grumbles, and John inspects the dish critically.

It looks better than how he would've made it, honestly. "Thanks, Si."

The large man hums, nods at a bottle of white wine he'd placed on the counter by the door. "Recommended pairing." Then, in a quieter tone, "'Least for little babies who don't drink bourbon."

John isn't familiar with the label, but Simon has an acute sense for these things so he accepts it anyway. "Owe ya one."

Simon grunts. "We'll talk about it at my quarterly review, yeah?"

"Sure. You actually gonna sit for one of those?" Simon has always maintained quite firmly that if John ever had a problem with his performance, he could tell him right then and there instead of compiling a list for months. John, of course, had never needed to.

"Course not. Get back to y'bird, Price, 'fore she starts to think we're getting cozy back here."

"You just wanna get back to eavesdropping."

"Do love watching you crash and burn, yeah."

John splutters. "Am not."

"She was clamming up like an oyster with vaginismus 'fore I pulled you outta there."

"How long has this been ready?"

Simon shrugs. "Couple'a minutes. Didn't want to interrupt, given she'd basically told you to ask her on a date."

John blinks. "Huh?"

"Christ you're an idiot. She asked what there is to do around here socially, and you told her to take a hike."

"I didn't," John protests, but of course, he did in fact do that. Shit, since when was Simon better at socializing than him?

"You did. Now get out there, pretend the wine was your idea, and invite her to that fancy coffee place like a normal person, cap."

"You gonna be in here listening the whole time?"

"Depends. You plan on bungling it bad enough you need exfil again?"

John frowns. "Best stay on, yeah. She's got me reduced to animal noises out there."

Simon laughs, low and terrifying as always. He shoos John out the door but John can hear him lingering, washing dishes. It should be annoying, but Simon was right, he'd mucked it up. He'd put up with a whole peanut gallery if they could at least help him secure another meet up.

The rabbit seems less on edge when John returns, thankfully, though it looks like she hasn't picked at his plate anymore. At least her glass is empty.

"Smells good," she comments as he places the dish in front of her.

"Got the hoity toity ingredient source spiel if you wanna hear it, or a wine recommendation if you don't. Promise you'll like it better than the bourbon," he adds when she raises her brows at the bottle.

"Well it's about time you bring me something worth coming back for," she jokes, motioning for him to open the bottle.

John feigns hurt. "I thought you liked my plate of scraps?"

"Mm. It was better with company." She waits until he grins at her to continue with a blush, "That wine the same way?"

"Let's find out, eh?" John asks as he slides her glass to her and retrieves his own. Softly, he thinks he hears Simon say something about a good lad in the kitchen.

She stays for a few hours after that, gets good and flushed. He worries about her returning to her car, but of course he's not supposed to know she's living out of it so he can't comment. He asks if she needs a ride anywhere and is relieved when she says she'll hang out and sober up. He can't stay rooted in front of her the way he'd like because he does eventually get some real customers, but he lets her commandeer the remote to put some hockey match on. Playoffs, apparently. He asks her which team she's supporting and she tells him the one that is currently down three goals. "Well, they made it further than my team, at least," she laughs when he makes a sympathetic face at her. Eventually, she asks for her bill and pouts when John only shakes his head at her.

"Us early starters gotta watch out for each other, no?"

"I ate directly off your plate like an animal, at least charge me for a drink so I can tip you."

"Let me get you a coffee sometime and we'll call it even."

She gapes like a fish for a moment, recovers when the woman a few seats down gives her a look as if to say girl, get your shit together. "So there is sociable stuff to do around here, eh?"

"Had to go bounce some ideas off my chef cause I was so tongue tied earlier, but I got some things in mind now," he admits with a warm smile, and the woman down the bar makes a face like she just saw Richard Gere snap a jewelry box on Julia Roberts' hand for the first time.

The rabbit's blush is tamer this time, a light dusting as opposed to the deep stain he's seen creep up to her ears. "I'd like that."

He gives her the biggest smile he can muster, can't help it. He fishes out a sharpie from the tin by the register and writes his name and number on a fresh coaster. The rabbit smiles as she zips it into her breast pocket for safe keeping. He doesn't hide the way his eyes linger, and she doesn't seem to mind. "Have a good night, John," she says as she slides off the stool.

"Get back safe, honey." She waves sweetly and gives a friendly parting smile to the lovesick woman who can't stop watching their little display.

Simon has the grace to wait until the bell has announced her exit to emerge from the kitchen.

"Don't fucking even, Simon," John begs, but it's the woman at the bar who starts in first.

"Well, I'd best be invited to the wedding. That was more action than I've seen in ten years," she gripes, elbowing the sleepy man next to her.

"What?" The man huffs, just as Simon starts cackling.

Part three >>

#sorry for spam I wasn't going to post it on here but decided against that #one more chapter to add and then I'm caught up #bearshifter!price #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x you #john price x you #fatted rabbit

[tokillamockingbird427]

Merrick 100% the kinda guy to think he could fight a grizzly and win. Just give him a knife. Now he is built like a fucking tank but a bear is a bear and ain't no way bruh.

"I could win." No you could not, leave it where it lies Mer-Bear.

#my crush on him persists #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #thomas a merrick

[lulu2992]

Exploration of the now-offline Far Cry 5 official websites

Part 24: Cheeseburger

Recovered content

According to the available archives, Cheeseburger had the same description on the American website for at least two years, from February 9th, 2018, to February 7th, 2020:

FANGS FOR HIRE CHEESEBURGER Cheeseburger was found as a young cub, snacking on greasy leftovers in a dumpster behind The Grill Streak. He’d been left to fend for himself after his mother was shot by poachers. Wade Fowler found him and brought him back to the F.A.N.G. Center, an animal sanctuary, where he was bottle-fed and nurtured back to health. When the cult moved in, Wade quickly realized that Jacob wanted Cheeseburger for his experiments. Rather than letting that monster get his hands on his beloved bear, Wade decided to let him loose to fend for himself.

You could indeed “Learn More” if you clicked on these words and read “The Hope County Resistance”, a News article from February 8th, 2018:

CHEESEBURGER - The Fearsome Grizzly - HEAVY Name: CHEESEBURGER Role: Fang for Hire Bio: Cheeseburger was found as a young cub, snacking on greasy leftovers in a dumpster behind The Grill Streak. He’d been left to fend for himself after his mother was shot by poachers. Wade Fowler found him and brought him back to the F.A.N.G. Center, an animal sanctuary, where he was bottle-fed and nurtured back to health. It turns out that a diet of burgers and fries does terrible things to a young bear’s body: Cheeseburger developed diabetes, which requires daily insulin injections. This, combined with his emotional attachment to Wade and his brother, meant that Cheeseburger could never return to the wild. Instead, the Fowler brothers built the bear his own home at the F.A.N.G. Center, making Cheeseburger the star attraction and a local celebrity. When the cult moved in, Wade quickly realized that Jacob wanted Cheeseburger for his experiments. Rather than letting that monster get his hands on his beloved bear, Wade decided to let him loose to fend for himself.

He was called The Bear on the European website, and his description said:

CHEESEBURGER THE BEAR Hope County’s furry, hungry tank Cheeseburger. He got that name on account of it being his favorite food. He was found as a young cub in the dumpster behind The Grill Streak, snacking on greasy leftovers. When the cult moved in, Wade, his owner, quickly realized that Jacob wanted Cheeseburger for his experiments. Rather than letting that monster get his hands on his beloved bear, Wade decided to let him loose to fend for himself rather than be subject to Jacob’s tests.

There was (and still is) no trailer specifically dedicated to Cheeseburger to include on the websites.

Commentary

As was the case for Peaches, the descriptions are consistent with what we learn about Cheeseburger in Far Cry 5... and I wish he had his own Character Spotlight trailer.

Under the cut are all the available source files, saved directly from the website, of the images you see in the screenshots:

#far cry 5 #cheeseburger #wade fowler #dave fowler

[lauralot89]

Sometimes you see something so pointless, so surreal, or just so asinine that your brain decides, "Nope, must be a fever dream" and it just lurks in your subconscious until something pulls it to the surface and your head hurts all over again.

For me, that thing is Man Vs. Bear.

Man Vs. Bear was a one season show on Discovery in which human beings tried to compete against bears. Specifically, grizzly bears. As you do.

This works out exactly as well for the humans as you would imagine.

Like, maybe if we went up against sun bears, which in my understanding weigh 110 pounds at the most, we'd stand a chance. Or koalas. I could definitely beat a koala at Not Having Chlamydia or Recognizing Eucalyptus Leaves When Not on a Tree.

(yes I know koalas aren't bears, but do you think the people making shows for Discovery care about that)

Here is a review of Man Vs. Bear from The Guardian. It is one of the finest pieces of writing ever published:

Welcome to Man vs Bear. It is a television programme about some men who want to beat a bear in a fight. It is a real television programme that really exists.

Here is a quiz from Discovery to find out which of the bears from Man vs. Bear you are. I'm Tank.

Here is a clip from the show in which some human-sized humans attempt to best a grizzly-sized grizzly bear in tug of war:

Of note in this clip: One contestant, Sheldon, claims that his weight loss shows he's up for "whatever's in front of me" as if a) higher body mass wouldn't be advantageous if you're trying not to be dragged by a bear and b) bears don't routinely gain and lose large amounts of weight. Bears win again. Later on, Sheldon says his plan is to get into the bear's head, because that's something that's really able to be done.

At least the clip included subtitles. That's nice.

This is a real show that was filmed and aired for eight episodes. The first episode is called "Boomer vs. Millennial." Another is called "Nothin' But Mammals."

Whoever came up with this concept likely has more money than I will ever see in my life. I'm going to lie down now.

#bears #grizzly bears #bear #Man Vs. Bear #Man vs Bear #Youtube

[onsunnyside]

So we all know about wolf hybrid Bucky but have you considered Grizzly hybrid Ari he’s so beefy and big and a little bit hairy too so it makes sense and if in the winter he bulked up more for mating season and has a little bit of a tummy too but he’s still built so he looks absolutely massive. him being naturally protective of you because your so small. Him letting out deep growls and chuffs holding the scruf of your neck with his teeth so he can hold you down as he makes you take him all. But you love it how he’s so much more massive then you how he can kill you with one squeeze of his huge hand around your throat. But we all know Ari is your big scary teddy bear

oh my, I don't know if I've ever read grizzly hybrid! fics but one with ari 😳 just a big beefy hairy 'feral' man (not tarzan!Steve ofc, but similar vibes)

mhm I bet he's a very smart CEO, top of the food chain kind of fella. he's one of the most eligible bachelors of the city, and when the public sees him walking around with you, such a small little thing hanging off his arm like a damn kitten, they go crazy !! this bulked up, hairy, thick and muscular as hell man is currently courting a quiet shy woman (or who knows, maybe you're the soft little heir to a successful hotel chain bc imagine the sweet little rich girl spoiling her *richer and built-like-a-tank boyfriend) oh and his lil bit of tummy !! he's soft and hard in all the right places, always smelling so good, wearing his expensive custom suits and lifting you over puddles like a gentleman 😭 his nickname would need to be bear, I don't make the rules but I do sometimes

don't get me started on mating season: everyone notices the difference in his body and his attitude, and how you're around way more often for ✨reasons✨. do not do it or I will start a new au.

if this was a dark au, it'd be a HCV kind of hierarchy but hybrids run the world, but I would love to keep this soft/fluffy/filthy/nasty

#I'm literally going to cry #I want him NOW #drooling creaming #bear hybrid ari #wips ask