#that’s the price I pay for writing this all on mobile

[ptoodle]

Very rarely do I see people ship Fern and Huntress Wizard but when I do I can’t help but feel like they have a fundamental misunderstanding of both Huntress Wizard and Fern’s nature. Like on the surface it’s “haha!!! Plant boy and plant girl!!!! Huntress Wizard likes Finn and Fern is Finn but a plant so they’re perfect for each other!!!!” which just like, completely ignores everything core to Fern’s existence and Huntress Wizard’s complicated feelings toward love.

Fern is just more than just “Finn but plant”. He is LITERALLY Finn, but tainted with a curse. He is built out of fucked up evil twisted magic. Fern spends his entire existence finding his own identity and trying to reconcile Finn’s natural desire to do good with the corrupting nature of the grass curse. Fern’s struggle is internal, and he don’t have the emotional capacity for romance until he sorts his own shit out (which unfortunately due to the curse, he’ll never be able to do).

There's also the matter of the huge gap in emotional maturity between Finn and Fern. The Finn inside the Finnsword missed key moments of emotional development that our Finn experienced from season 6 to 8. Fern wasn't molded by key experiences like The Visitor, Crossover, Hall of Egress, Flute Spell, Don't Look, or The Music Hole. In particular, the massive emotional growth Finn underwent in Flute Spell is what allowed him to start a functional relationship with Huntress Wizard, and Fern lacks that growth. Fern is essentially a version of Finn stuck in season 6, and lacks the emotional intelligence to properly handle a relationship with anyone, let alone somebody as emotionally sensitive as Huntress Wizard.

But enough about Fern. I’m not a Fern expert, and this is only my B-rate interpretation of his character. The REAL egregious mischaracterizations of a Fern x Huntress Wizard ship lay in people just not understanding Huntress Wizard properly. For starters, you have to understand that both Fern and Huntress Wizard are two very magical beings, but their magics come from different sources. Huntress Wizard is a wizard (surprising, I know) and Fern is a CURSE. Fern is an unnatural, malicious magical force. Huntress Wizard would be off-put by Fern’s existence because he is a perversion of the natural world that she ties herself deeply to. Huntress Wizard assumes the role of a sort of “keeper of nature” in the forests of Ooo (as seen in her quest to slay the Grumbo for being invasive in The Wild Hunt), and Fern is a disruption to that natural order. A relationship between the two would never work because Huntress Wizard would be uncomfortable with Fern’s very existence.

There’s also the matter of why Huntress Wizard is attracted to Finn, and how Fern lacks many of the qualities Huntress Wizard likes Finn for. For starters, there’s the matter of emotional development I talked about before. Finn is extremely well-put together during the time he spends with Huntress Wizard in Flute Spell, and it’s easy to see how deeply he respects Huntress Wizard and her objectives. Finn isn’t determined to help Huntress Wizard with her mission to talk to the Spirit of the Forest out of a blind infatuation for her, but out of his natural drive to help people. Finn is very in-tune with his emotions (and can handle rejection like a champ), and Huntress Wizard can see that in him. This emotional in-tuneness is part of why Huntress Wizard so deeply respects Finn. Huntress Wizard seems to value her ability to stay true to her feelings (which even she struggles with; see my Flute Spell megareview for more) is drawn to his honesty and selflessness. Unfortunately for Fern, whether it is because of his lack of emotional development or because of his curse, cannot handle all his conflicting feelings inside him and doesn’t have the same kind of emotional stability that Huntress Wizard is attracted to Finn for.

I could go on and on and list even more reasons to why Fern x Huntress Wizard wouldn’t work, but those stray further into the “headcanon-ey”school of thought and I’m trying to be more objective with my character analysis as possible. I know being complexly objective is impossible and you have to leave a little room for individual interpretation but overall the entire ship is built on a very flimsy basis of “what if the two plant people liked eachother” and that’s it. There’s way more to these characters that make them special, and reducing them to just their visual similarities does a disservice to their character depth and creative potential.

#huntress wizard #adventure time #finn mertens #adventuretime #finn the human #fern the human #fern mertens #wow I never realized how many adventure time episodes start with ‘the’ #why is the formatting all weird #that’s the price I pay for writing this all on mobile

[mostlysignssomeportents]

An Epic antitrust loss for Google

A jury just found Google guilty on all counts of antitrust violations stemming from its dispute with Epic, maker of Fortnite, which brought a variety of claims related to how Google runs its app marketplace. This is huge:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/12/11/technology/epic-games-google-antitrust-ruling.html

The mobile app store world is a duopoly run by Google and Apple. Both use a variety of tactics to prevent their customers from installing third party app stores, which funnels all app makers into their own app stores. Those app stores cream an eye-popping 30% off every purchase made in an app.

This is a shocking amount to charge for payment processing. The payments sector is incredibly monopolized and notorious for its price-gouging – and its standard (wildly inflated) rate is 2-5%:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

Now, in theory, Epic doesn't have to sell in Google Play, the official Android app store. Unlike Apple's iOS, Android permit both sideloading (installing an app directly without using an app store) and configuring your device to use a different app store. In practice, Google uses a variety of anticompetitive tricks to prevent these app stores from springing up and to dissuade Android users from sideloading. Proving that Google's actions – like paying Activision $360m as part of "Project Hug" (no, really!) – were intended to prevent new app storesfrom springing up was a big lift for Epic. But they managed it, in large part thanks to Google's own internal communications, wherein executives admitted that this was exactly why Project Hug existed. This is part of a pattern with Big Tech antitrust: many of the charges are theoretically very hard to make stick, but because the companies put their evil plans in writing (think of the fraudulent crypto exchange FTX, whose top execs all conferred in a groupchat called "Wirefraud"), Big Tech keeps losing in court:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

Now, I do like to dunk on Big Tech for this kind of thing, because it's objectively funny and because the companies make so many unforced errors. But in an important sense, this kind of written record is impossible to avoid. Any large institution can only make and enact policy through administrative systems, and those systems leave behind a paper-trail: memos, meeting minutes, etc. Yes, we all know that quote from The Wire: "Is you taking notes on a fucking criminal conspiracy?" But inevitably, any ambitious conspiracy can only exist if someone is taking notes.

What's more, any large conspiracy involving lots of parties will inevitably produce leaks. Think of this as the corollary to the idea that the moon landing can't be a hoax, because there's no way 400,000 co-conspirators could keep the secret. Big Tech's conspiracies required hundreds or even thousands of collaborators to keep their mouths shut, and eventually someone blabs:

https://www.science.org/content/article/fake-moon-landing-you-d-need-400000-conspirators

This is part of a wave of antitrust cases being brought against the tech giants. As Matt Stoller writes, the guilty-on-all-counts jury verdict will leak into current and future actions. Remember, Google spent much of this year in court fighting the DoJ, who argued that the company bribed Apple not to make a competing search engine, paying tens of billions every year to keep a competitor from emerging. Now that a jury has convinced Google of doing that to prevent alternative app stores from emerging, claims that it used these pay-for-delay tactics in other sectros get a lot more credible:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/boom-google-loses-antitrust-case

On that note: what about Apple? Epic brought a very similar case against Apple and lost. Both Apple and Epic are appealing that case to the Supreme Court, and now that Google has been convicted in a similar case, it might prompt the Supremes to weigh in and resolve the seeming inconsistencies in the interpretation of federal law.

This is a key moment in the long project to wrest antitrust away from the pro-monopoly side, who spent decades "training" judges to produce verdicts that run counter to the plain language of America's antitrust law:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/13/post-bork-era/#manne-down

There's 40 years' worth of bad precedent to overturn. The good news is that we've got the law on our side. Literally, the wording of the laws and the records of the Congressional debate leading to their passage, all militate towards the (incredibly obvious) conclusion that the purpose of anti-monopoly law is to fight monopoly, not defend it:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men

It's amazing to realize that we got into this monopoly quagmire because judges just literally refused to enforce the law. That's what makes one part of the jury verdict against Google so exciting: the jury found that Google's insistence that Play Store sellers use its payment processor was an act of illegal tying. Today, "tying" is an obscure legal theory, but few doctrines would be more useful in disenshittifying the internet. A company is guilty of illegal tying when it forces you to use unrelated products or services as a condition of using the product you actually want. The abandonment of tying led to a host of horribles, from printer companies forcing you to buy ink at $10,000/gallon to Livenation forcing venues to sell tickets through its Ticketmaster subsidiary.

The next phase of this comes when the judge decides on the penalty. Epic doesn't want cash damages – it wants the judge to order Google to fulfill its promise of "an open, competitive Android ecosystem for all users and industry participants." They've asked the judge to order Google to facilitate third-party app stores, and to separate app stores from payment processors. As Stoller puts it, they want to "crush Google’s control over Android":

https://www.epicgames.com/site/en-US/news/epic-v-google-trial-verdict-a-win-for-all-developers

Google has sworn to appeal, surprising no one. The Times's expert says that they will have a tough time winning, given how clear the verdict was. Whatever this means for Google and Android, it means a lot for a future free from monopolies.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/12/im-feeling-lucky/#hugger-mugger

#pluralistic #conspiracies #big tech #discovery #ai #copyright #copyfight #app stores #circuit splits #apple #apple v epic #law #trustbusting #competition #monopolies #google #epic #google v epic #fortnite #antitrust #tying #payment processing #scotus #project hug #pay for delay #games #gaming

[rottingcorps3s]

"Daddy Issues" - J.P.

John Price x f!reader

Rating: 16+ (no smut, just cute) Word Count: Like 800?? Notice: Hey Alexa, please play “Daddy Issues” by The Neighborhood. I feel as if the title is self explanatory. A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve posted! Had a few ideas I wanted to get out so I decided to write this while I waited for Skyrim to download lol This was written on mobile and not proofread. Might make multiple parts of this, might not. But hope you enjoy!

His grip was tight on your hand. His fingers having completely engulfed your own as he pulled you through the crowd of people. His other hand holding onto the few shopping bags you had accumulated throughout the day.

John was an older man, not much older, but still older. You didn’t mind, obviously, but other people seemed to. It was evident in the stares from strangers that would linger just a second too long.

Is that your dad? You’d heard a hundred times over.

Is she your daughter? They’d ask John, a defeated look crossing his eyes.

When people realized that the two of you were in fact a couple, it tended to sour their mood. Seeing a younger woman with an older man their mind immediately went to Sugar Daddy. Which was far from the truth…kinda.

Did John spoil you? Definitely. Who wouldn’t want to? The multiple Cartier bracelets you owned, the 24k gold necklace that sat delicately against your sternum and the fact that your nails were always done every 4 weeks were proof of his generosity to you.

But your relationship was so much more than that. To him, you had done more for him than he’d ever be able to pay you back for. Your warm touch and inviting smile was all he needed to be satisfied, but you had gone further beyond that.

Since you had entered his life, not a day went by where he wasn’t thankful. Making sure he always had a hot meal waiting when he returned from deployment no matter the time of night. A hot bath already prepared by the time he was done eating. Your warm embrace waiting for him in bed as he washed away the horrors of war.

God forbid he spoils his woman a little.

You felt it happen a few blocks back, your shoe having slowly dragged your sock down the back of your heel and under your foot. It was driving you crazy, but the car was only a few blocks away. John could tell something was wrong as you seemed to lag behind him and stumbled every couple steps.

You had been looking into the window of one of the shops you passed by, seeing if anything interesting caught your eye before you were met with the solid chest of your boyfriend. You looked up at him and met his gaze, his eyebrows raised and a questioning look in his eyes.

“Are your shoes hurtin’ you?” he asked, pulling you off to the side to avoid being trampled by people.

You looked down at the shoes you were wearing, they were a simple pair of white sneakers. A pair John had bought you.

“No,” you said simply, a small smile forming on your lips as you admired him for a moment.

“You keep tripping over yourself?” he said as more of a question.

“My sock rolled under my foot, but I was just gonna fix it in the car.” You said simply.

His eyebrows furrowed as he listened to you, his eyes scanning your form and ultimately landing on your shoes. He paused for a moment, your gaze having wandered back to the window of the shop, waiting for him to start leading the way once more.

He let out a small sign before moving the bags he was holding further up his arm and got down onto one knee in front of you. His knees popping as he did.

You looked down at him with a questioning gaze before he gripped the back of your calf and set your shoe on his knee. You quickly gripped onto his shoulder as you used it to balance yourself. He made quick work of untying the laces and slipped your sneaker off. His hands felt ice cold against your feet as he gently pulled your sock back over your heel.

For as big as John was, he was extremely gentle. His fingers were calloused over and rough, but his touch was the complete opposite. He was nothing but gentle, and caring, and soft with you (unless you requested otherwise).

You felt your face heat up from the interaction, a deep red blush covering your cheeks as he slipped your shoe back on and tied the laces. He set your foot back down on the ground before grabbing ahold of the other one and doing the same thing.

People were staring, you both knew that, but it was such a sweet gesture that you completely blocked out the existence of everyone else around you. John stood back up once your other shoe was on, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment before he turned back around and continued to the car. Your hand still gripped tightly into his own.

You had a huge smile plastered across your face as you pushed yourself into his side. Your other hand holding onto his bicep, your nails gently digging into them.

“Thank you…” you said appreciatively. John smiled in response.

“Anything for you, love.”

(someone please stab me, I love John so much)

#call of duty #cod modern warfare #captain john price #john price cod #john price #modern warefare #john price x reader #john price x female reader

[maesphantoms]

Dear John (John Price x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: slight mention of injuries

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2,151

This is completely due to @uselsshuman and because I’m reading Midnight Sun so I needed to write soft Price haha

Also if there’s any weird formatting that’s completely due to posting this from mobile haha

Edit: I found the original letter I wanted Sparrow to write and found some errors that made it through my proofread haha

From the moment you met John Price, you could tell that this was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, no matter how short it may end up. The first time you laid eyes on him, was when you first joined SAS. You both had no idea just how crazy your lives would get in the future. Whenever you were on a mission together, your bodies moved as one unit. You both had no problem being able to protect the other or in the event of one being an idiot, slapping some sense into them.

"You drive me insane sometimes, it's ridiculous." John hissed under his breath as he slowly began to suture a wound on your shoulder. His hands were ever so gentle, even if all he wanted to do was strangle you for not being more careful.

"Just doing my duty in trying to turn your hair gray." You joke, trying to not focus on the pull of your skin with every stitch.

“Well, you’re doing a damn good job of it…” He mutters.

Closing your eyes, you tried to push away the wave of nausea you always got with stitches. John could sense this and patted your forearm before going as fast as he could. It was so easy with him. You drove him absolutely insane, but he would always look out for you. And he did the same to you.

“At least I saved the beard.” You breathed out.

John let out a quiet chuckle. He was now placing a bandage over the sutures. His hands were warm against your skin, leaving what felt like tiny zips of lightning in their wake. As soon as he was done, you felt his arms snake around your waist, signifying you were clear to open your eyes. The safe house was quiet. The rest of your teammates were outside, loading up their equipment as you got ready to move.

“When do you have to leave?” You whisper, putting your hands on top of his and entwining your fingers.

“As soon as we get back. We have to figure out where the bastard is.” His voice rumbled as he leaned into you.

You hum quietly. Your relationship was complicated, both of you knew the other had feelings for the other. The fear of not knowing what would happen while off on missions apart from the other kept you from moving passed what it is now. A mutual pining. Hand holding, letter writing. It was your idea to start the letters, in fact. Mostly a joke, you found it hilarious to write out the words Dear John. The mental picture of Channing Tatum in John’s bucket hat? Your favorite.

The biggest thing that stopped the two of you was the fact that his other team, his task force, kept him constantly going. You both never knew if he’d come back. He could tell you some of the things that occurred, but not all of them. None of the super confidential stuff. You knew he got betrayed by some higher-up and that he had to find him to make him pay.

“What if we got our own flat? Somewhere where it’s just us. That way I don’t have to worry about the others peeking at our letters?” You said in a small voice, leaning your head back on his shoulder. Opening your eyes, you could see a small smile on John’s face, a gloating smile.

“Mmhmm, for the letters.” He teased, whispering in your ear, “No other reason.”

“Mmm,” You smiled, “You write some pretty saucy things, Captain. Don’t want the men to know that Ole Price has a soft side.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” He smiled into your neck before reluctantly pulling away from you. Once again, duty called you both out of your bubble of happiness.

It was a month before you saw John again. A brief smile was exchanged across the hanger. He was surrounded by 3 other men you instantly recognized as Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Garrick, and Sergeant MacTavish. Sadly, you were on your way out to your own mission, you made a mental note to ask him about the new pink scar he sported on his check as you loaded into a helicopter.

John felt the familiar ache in his heart when he saw you. No matter how brief of eye contact you shared, you never failed to make his heart beat out of his chest. And he's been away for oh, so long. The one thing he was looking forward to more than a hot shower and his bed was you. It didn't surprise him that you were tasked to go on a mission the day he was getting back. It happened a lot.

"Okay, boys. Go get some rest. Soap, Ghost. Go see medical for your wounds" John looped his fingers in his vest. Oh, how he wanted the damn thing off. But he had to find your letter first. it was routine now. When the letters first started, you left them on each other's beds. Then you decided to hide them. Something to keep the other on their toes. John enjoyed it as much as you did.

"Where did you hide it this time, little sparrow?" John mumbled under his breath as he closed his door.

To his surprise, you left it on his bed. He narrowed his eyes as he picked it up. The familiar scrawl of your handwriting warmed him. He'd never admit it to anyone, but your letters were a source of deep comfort for him. He's kept all of them. They were hidden in a box you wouldn't know about until way later. Not by his choice either, you little snoop. His fingers ran across the words.

Dear John,

This is something I would've liked to tell you in person, but duty calls. Funny how it always seems to call when you’re coming home lately. If I didn’t know any better I’d say that the heavens had it out for us. And even if they do, I wouldn’t give up that easily. Oh, right! The point of this. I got us a flat! Well, it's more of a townhouse. No, more of a remote cottage. We can’t get any more private than that! I expect you’re going to pitch a fit about making such a big decision without you, but trust me, it was a steal. It's a bit of a fixer-upper, but nothing we can’t handle. I’ve hidden the key and the address, just to be an asshole. Good luck! I’ll see you when I get home.

Always,

Your little sparrow

John's heart bloomed. He thought you were teasing him when you said you wanted to live with him. Smiling to himself, he quickly looked around the barren room. The aches in his exhausted body were long forgotten. There weren’t very many places you could hide things. Lifting the mattress, he saw a key with a small J attached to it. It was real. You two had a house. A place where it was just you two.

“Captain? The shower is free.” Gas’s voice pulled him out of his daydream of waking up next to you.

“Got it.” He called back, continuing to search the small room for the address.

As he searched, he remembered the first mission he ever went on with you. He kept a close eye on you because he was scared that something would happen to you. You seemed too fragile to be able to handle yourself. But the longer he watched, the more he was impressed. You were equally as powerful as you were beautiful. He knew from that point on that you were more than capable of protecting yourself.

You fell faster than he did. He had so much kindness for you, always checking on you after missions. Never failing to go with you to the medics when you were injured. There were countless times when you had saved each other on missions. The first time you knew Price felt the same way, you had been shot in the thigh and couldn't walk.

“Listen to me, Sparrow. I'm getting you out of here.” He held your face in his hands as you panicked because he wouldn't leave you. You didn't want anything to happen to him because of you. You could already see the rest of the group was gone. John looped your arm around his neck and wrapped his tightly around your waist.

Once he got you to relative safety, he looked at your thigh and lighted the straps on it, making a makeshift tourniquet. The mixture of adrenaline and panic wasn't quite enough to numb the pain that began searing down your leg as he did so. He mumbled an apology before lifting you again and making a mad dash for the evac. You knew right then how much you had fallen for him. He was just doing his job as Captain, you knew that, but you were so irrevocably in love with him.

Little did you know that was when John began to fall himself. The panic that filled his head once he heard you scream. The fear that you were gone when he watched you fall. It was almost too much to bear. So he told the others to get to the evac point and he ran to you. And he would keep running to you if that meant he could save you. He knew you could handle yourself, but you wouldn't have to if he was there.

The first time you two knew the other had feelings for you was also when you kissed for the first time. It didn't really count, in the end. You were giving him CPR, after all. The others still teased you. You couldn't help but smile. The feeling of his lips on yours? Ah, the best. It's cliché to say, but they felt like they were made to fit yours. It wasn't long before your second and first real kiss came. And you continued to love each other from a distance. Never becoming anything more than kisses, hugs, hand-holding... All when you two were hidden from the rest of your teammates. Silent "I love you"s exchanged. You become each other's source of comfort. A comfort you would unknowingly seek.

John reached underneath the small dresser and felt the edge of paper. His heart soared as he pulled it out and looked down at your familiar handwriting, completed with a small doodle of a house, John's hat, a sparrow, and a heart. He didn't know his heart could beat any faster. Such a simple thing could fill him with so much happiness.

Over the next few days, he did as much as he could to make the one-bedroom cottage with peeling yellow paint feel like home. Of course, he couldn't bring himself to ask any of 141 for help. He didn't know if you wanted them to know. The first thing he did was buy some better furniture than the off-white, broken-down sofa in the living room. The entire cottage smelled like mildew and had a thin layer of dust coating everything. Doing everything in his power, he transformed the small cottage into the place of your dreams.

When you got back from your mission, you immediately went to John's room on base. Even if he decided to not move in with you, you needed to see him. The smiles you exchanged when he got back weren't enough. It was a pleasant surprise that his room was empty. Quickly, you found Sergeant Garrick to make sure he wasn't on another mission. You didn't know if you could take it if he was.

"Oh, no, he's at his new house. I guess he got tired of staying on base." You had to fight back your smile, he obviously didn't want to tell anyone.

Nothing made your heart soar as much as pulling up to the small cottage and seeing John in the kitchen through the window. He obviously had music playing as he danced around. It took all you had to not immediately run inside and hug him. Forcing yourself to grab your duffle bag out of the backseat, you crouched past the window and slowly opened the door to be greeted by the most delicious smell and John's singing. You couldn't wait any longer, throwing down the duffle you ran into the kitchen and abruptly came to a stop, your hands covering your mouth.

John was wearing an apron covered in hearts as he stirred a pot on the store, the table covered in food. He looked over and the smile he gave you brought tears to your eyes. Running over to him, you wrapped your arms around him. He laughed into your hair, hugging you tightly.

“Welcome home, little sparrow.”

You were in heaven.

#john price x reader #modern warfare x reader #john price #captain john price #captain price #captain price x reader #maesphantoms

[sinestrosmind]

Emergency Commissions

hey hi if it's not one thing it's another this month lmao

all the money I had saved up for April's rent and utilities was recently used to take my litter of puppies and their late mama to the vet, so I don't have anything anymore. We need 500 to be able to pay rent and utilities, so I'm opening up emergency commissions.

original commissions post can be found here for important notes and links. Current special offer is my clan icons since they're easiest for me to do given my time constraints with the puppies, which are knocked down to 15$ USD for a pair instead of the usual 25$. The only examples I have right now are TMNT related but I can do any fandom.

I also am willing to open up writing commissions, and tentatively open up NSFW writing commissions. Examples of my writing can be found under my writing tag (desktop link) (mobile link)

Thinking 1$ per 100 words, since I have some 400 word pieces as examples. Still working on exact pricing since I've never done writing commissions before but I'm willing to work a deal out.

I also have characters for sale on my sales Toyhouse acc, pay what you want with a minimum of 3$.

#ROTTMNT #Rise of The TMNT #Rise of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #TMNT #2012 TMNT #TMNT 2012 #emergency commissions #open commissions #emergency commissions open #commissions #art commisions #commissions open #⭑🛠⭑ Hey so *infodumps about the thing I’m into* { Tony Talks }

[sinon36]

Ghost x undercover!reader (HC) Part IV

warnings: violence, blood, mistakes, badly written British speech, I got some inspiration from The Rookie for the undercover part

P.S. I loved Frenchie from The Boys and I just couldn’t help myself. Apologies 😊

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

- the fourth time you meet it’s no longer up to chance but up to your discretion

- the last mission scored you one of the most prized rewards in your field: a golden ticket; basically you get permission to retire from your field an choose another with less risk and a larger pay check, a “thank you gift card” from the director of the MI6, the King and England herself; it’s a type of mobility many dream of, having checked off the bucket list almost dying in al sorts of crazy situations and the young adventurous attitude toward danger having morphed into a veteran hesitant mentality; you are given plenty of time to decide where you want to go       

- a month later you hear rumours of a task force newly formed, one-four-one they’d call it; cheesy you think not really giving anymore attention; and then the briefing about some partnership between under cover specialised agents and this mystery task force for a top tier mission; you think about it, you haven’t had any action in three months now and anymore desk work will drive you up a wall if it continues; you skim over the file on the task force with disinterest, mostly because task forces like these were made up of brutes, eager to pick fights with the enemy and partially because most of the words had been redacted; a few are left out in the open among the sea of black ink: task force, covert mission, high-performance, low collateral casualties, you hum in thought

- what makes you not only volunteer with a manic grin, but actually consider having found the place for your relocation; under the captain’s name John Price, follow three more names; the last two are unknown to you and unimportant, two Sergeants, one John ‘Soap’ MacTavish, and another Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick; but the one is impossible to mistake: Lt. Ghost; no first name, no last name; the only person whose file you ever read to bear that name.

- your application for the mission gets accepted almost instantly your reputation proceeding you almost any briefing room now; you’re informed that you’ll depart within the hour and other things you need to know about it; nothing really matters as you know you’ll get the chance to confront that knobhead that has plagued all your waking hours and some dreams with his obscure choice of words as you departed;

- you’re ready in 30, not really owning much and usually being moved from HQ to HQ, or base, or house within small time frames, which doesn’t allow for many personal things anyway; you wait in the shade, dragging from a cigarette, to pass the time, until the heli lands on the heli-pad; you don’t get to wait much, the pilot is here a little early; good; you don’t like to wait

- the flight is short the base not, far from the MI6 HQ; you pass the time reading a book you took, some title that caught your attention at the library across the street of where you usually buy cigarettes; the story doesn’t raise to your expectations, the writing style is mediocre and the characters have as much depth as a glass of water; you contemplate throwing it out the window, but refrain when the pilot announces ETA: less than 5; you hum heart beating a little quicker at the excitement you feel for finally being able to decipher the meaning behind those blood words

- as soon as the heli touches down on tarmac you’re out the door, no words of goodbye to the pilot; he’s used to it’

- the welcoming committee consists of the two Sergeants, now finally connecting faces to the names you read on the files; they’re casual in your attitude towards you which is a little invigorating, but they wouldn’t drop the “ma’am”; they’ll get over it; you’re probably a little older than them

- John ‘Soap’ MacTavish is chatty Scott, who’s a little to nosy for your liking, but within reasonable limits; you’re not sure if is actually trying to charm the pants off of you or that’s just how he is usually, throwing compliments left and right, but those have no effect on you and slide right off without much care; he sports an unusual haircut for some of the strictest branches of army that’s ever existed, SAS you see the patch on his shoulder, and a wacky tattoo representing the Task Force 141 insignia on his huge forearm

- Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick is almost opposite to “Soap”, he’s more laid back, observing more than talking, making small comments when the Scott’s cascade off words gets interrupted, chuckling at his comrade poor attempts at complimenting you; he’s not as well built as Soap, but he stands a couple inches taller than you

- ‘He’s always like that?’ you direct your attention to “Gaz” as the two of them walk in front of you like two loyal guard dogs

- ‘Yes ma’am, though he get’s easier to ignore with time.’ You both chuckle, a huge disservice to the Scott that protests ‘Oi’ followed by a 'What's that suppose tae mean?' in the thickest Scottish accent you’ve had the chance to hear

- ‘You’re bothersome, bruv.’ Soap hits Gaz’s shoulder in brotherly fashion and the playful banter begins; you tune them up, and think about finally getting to change out of your civilian clothes and into something blacker, more unflattering and less eye catching than the light blue skinny jeans that have managed to flare out more than one whistle as you passed; arseholes and jar-heads come to the forefront of your mind

- you’re led first to your room and left there with the promise that one of them, most likely Soap, cause he already volunteered to do it, will come collect you for the briefing before supper

- you’re left alone to install, unpack, get changed and unwind from the irksome travel and the fact that you are being watched like deer in the headlights, fresh faces always attract the interest of the crowd in places like this

- the walk towards the briefing room is short but Soap manages to pour so many words in that interval that you’re almost sure he’s going to run out; once inside Soap’s chatter dies down and you make eye contact with the captain

- John Price gives off the energy of a strong father figure, his facial hair adding to his age; he not much older than you but the stress of leadership is visible on his face, eyes winged with crow’s feet; he gives a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod as you and the sergeant enter; he waits for Gaz to join you before he begins the briefing

-   as for the hulking beast of a man, clad in black, brown eyes surrounded by black army issued face paint and hidden behind that grotesque mask of his, oh no, you haven’t miss him, just ignored him; you felt his gaze burning your skin, searching for eye contact, which you vehemently denied; suffer just like I did, bloke

- Gaz comes in and is witness to the unthinkable; you the new face, pretty one might say without lying, so much different from these hardened man, more in common with the civvies than them, go and sit right next to Ghost, no space left in between the two of you; and what’s even crazier, you don’t acknowledge him; Soap and Gaz share a look; the captain seems amused by your actions and the sergeants confusion; no one, absolutely no-fucking-body ever sat next to Ghost, willingly and without starring dumbly and frightened at him; no one, never

- you take your seat, and place your notebook and pen neatly in front of you, facing the whiteboard as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened; the two chaps sit down slowly, eyes trained on you half expecting you to realize your mistake and jump out of the chair; but you surprise them once again when you finally decide to meet the glare directed at you head on and to crack a smirk at the lieutenant

- their minds are blown, mouth open in disbelief, they glance at one another; their minds are set, you get labelled as the agent who clearly lost their mind somewhere in some gone wrong mission; they’ll bombard you with questions later

- as for Ghost, he’s as still as puma waiting to spring to attack; if looks could kill, you’d be disintegrated to the last atom; you’re as unbothered as a new born foal, unaware of its impending doom

- Price clears his voice, catching your attention and diminishing the tension that clouds around the semicircle table

- he makes an introduction for you, stating the reason you’re here, and what you’re specialized in: undercover espionage; you give a nod to all the men

- on a laptop in the furthermost side of the table a connection is established and a blonde American woman greets you; she’s CIA, their handler and yours for the upcoming mission; you have no qualms to work with the other most prominent intelligence agency, the one from over the pond, as long as you get to do your job as you know best; you feel the respect the men have for her and the fondness in the captain’s eyes once they greet each other; they’re old friends, that much you can tell   

- you decide you’ll respect Kate Laswell and trust her, as much as one can trust when one builds their carrier on lying to others and distrusting everyone; she’s pleasant so far, familiar with the men, and cuts straight to the chase just how you like it

- the target is one drug overlord who decided to take things up a notch and deal in arms with terrorists; the goal: disrupt the block-chain and cut the heads off the snakes; simple enough nothing that you haven’t tackled before

- you’re given green light to propose how to approach and infiltrate this business; you explain that you have to get quite high in their hierarchy if you want a shot at real damage; you skim over the information available on his deals: fentanyl, the most recent drug that’s flooded the streets; you know how to “cook” it from a previous cartel you took down; you’ll enter as just that “a cooker”, but you’ll also need a bodyguard to make yourself seem more important, but more on that later; you point out the name of the current one, the first target

- if you manage to get that person out of the game, you’ll have a chance to fill that spot, maybe the most important chain link in the whole operation

- you already have in mind the persona you’ll assume, a chemistry drop-out that took to cooking drugs; you know that your skills far surpass the target’s and you know how to cook a purer form of fentanyl; as for your bodyguards’: a crook; fresh out of prison on the lookout for work that pays well; one with knowledge of guns and explosives, surely to pique the terrorist cell’s interest in their skill

- Soap offers for the role, impressed so far with your knowledge and method of operating; you’re through, and he’d like to learn more on infiltration; you agree hearing he’s got what it takes to be convincing enough

- Laswell, Price and Gaz all hum in agreement at your plan waiting to hear their part in it; simple: Laswell can help with credentials and all the raw materials you’ll need to pull this off; Gaz, the captain and Ghost will be your back up, providing fire power

- the first target is easy to take down: he’s a middle-aged creep, who likes pretty young women and heavy drinks, parties like he’s twenty not fifty something; they already have info on his preferred hotspots; you’ll go in lure him out for the men to bag him and make him disappear

- everyone agrees so far adding small details here and there; it’s only your first few hours or so and every single one understands why you’re held in so high regard; it’s all warranted

- Ghost is the only one who hasn’t said anything, allowing you to direct the briefing, already know you’re more than capable and have far more experience with such delicate planning

- once everything is settled you start planning out the preparations you’ll need to make beforehand; Soap will train under your supervision; you point out he already looks the part, a delinquent; the comment lacks any trace of ill intent, but everyone can’t help but chuckle at his huff of indignation followed by ‘ ’M not’; you sweeten the deal praising his charming nature and easy-going attitude; he smiles at that but it’s short lived by your next comment

- ‘You'll do fine as long as you let me do the talking. I doubt you calling anyone 'bonnie lass' will get you very far.’ That gets everyone to let out a chuckle, everyone knowing Soaps anticks; even Ghost lets out a grunt reminiscent of a laugh; the bruised ego Scott follows up with a ‘Pish off’ that’s met with laughter from you; you let the insult roll off in good humour

- the briefing ends, Laswell disconnects, and the rest of you stand up to make your way to the mess hall in time for dinner; Price holds you back, and you obey; you talk a little, mostly him, praises fly at you, for good planning, attention to details and overall how well you managed to fit in with them in such a short time; you thank him, having heard this all the time; you try, really hard, to be pliant and easy to work with; no need to be a hard-ass; you’re all on the same side

- he agrees with your well-spoken point of view; but he can’t help but ask what’s the deal with you and Ghost

- ‘Worked together before. We get along well.’ Your answer seems to put at ease some of his worries about the teams chemistry; with that out of the way he leads you to the mess hall where he gets you to sit with them at the table; you can feel everyone else’s eyes on you as the new face of the 141’s; but you ignore them chatting with “your” team; you kind of like the sound of that; you can quite imagine working along side them for the rest of your carrier, however short, as you know the death rates among undercover agents grow the further they go; very few get to retire in one piece, actually you can count them on one hand, at least the ones they tell you about at the academy

Previous part here.

Next part here.

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost x oc #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #cod headcanons #ghost headcanons

[meowmeowriley]

Hi costume anon here!

*ahem* OMFG HOLY SHIT WTF AHDGDKFICG

Your writing was so good!!! I’m crying BLUE BEATLE ROACH!!!!!!! SOAP MAKING THE COSTUMES!!!! POOR GHOST RIP GAZ!!!!! I loved the entire thing poor price has no idea what’s going on but he’s there for his kids (I just looked up dum dum holy shit 😂 that’s spot on) Andy is a little shit and must be protected at all costs! YOU GABE ME A CAMEO I’m gonna faint right after I finish crying over how cute this all was. And holy shit the ART Tactax-art continues to hit it out the convention hall you guys are so fucking talented!! oh no now they know they like each other whatever shall they do?!?!! (Well at least ghost knows) can you imagine if there actually was an incident at one of the cons they went to? shit would be sorted before any of the other guests noticed anything went awry, free security lol. The headaches Laswell must get making sure Andy’s tick tok is clean and he doesn’t accidentally post anything incriminating she deserves a medal (and a pay rise)

Thank you so much for writing this amazing piece incase you couldn’t tell I fucking loved it and it’s made my day!!!! I hope you have just as an amazing start to yours as well and it keeps getting better from there!

Y'know, when I said I'd get the answer to this ask out in a few minutes, I actually meant a day. I guess. Whoops. Whatever, nobody has ever called me punctual in my life, why start now 😅 Anyhoooooo

🥺 Did you like your lil story Costume Anon? I wrote it for you ❤ Just a little thank you for interacting with and encouraging me. A lot of thanks has to go to @tactax-art for it's ideas and art. I would've been so lost without them.

I wasn't planning on writing more, but the idea of Price calling Laswell, "Kate, there's terrorists at the convention center. We need backup, we need weapons, now!" "John, theres no way I can't get anyone mobilized in time. Improvise. It's what you're good at." Well that's juicy... 😈 how would Andy fare, knowing his uncle just garotted a man in the bathroom with a shoelace? Or that his uncles future boyfriend disassembled his cosplay rifle and reassembled it into a working silenced pistol? Well I suppose I'll have to answer those questions.

For those of you who missed it, the post this was left about is this one here.

And the art of course, because I'm obsessed with it: Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and Roach cosplaying DC characters.

I hope you're still doing alright, Costume Anon. Until you next write me, my lovely friend and Non-gendered Prince ❤

#ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #call of duty #cod mw2 #modern warfare #fanfic #text post #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ask hoard #ask answered #ask #costume anon #cosplay au

[rrlexchange]

Ralph Lauren Takes His Line on the Road

By Stephanie Strom Sept. 23, 1993 (Originally published in the NYT)

While other retailers are taking their acts to television's home shopping networks, Ralph Lauren is taking his new line of jeans and rugged clothing on the road in an 18-wheeler.

A team of nine young salespeople yesterday started selling the designer's RRL, or Double RL collection out of a Peterbilt semitractor trailer truck parked on the campus of New York University in Manhattan. The trailer, painted with mustangs running across one side and pulled by a cherry red cab, plans to visit college campuses across the country cultivating customers who might otherwise miss the company's more traditional marketing efforts.

"It's a traveling billboard," Mr. Lauren, who looked as if he had just stepped out of one of the on-board dressing rooms in full RRL attire, said in a truckside interview at N.Y.U.

But it goes beyond that. The truck gives the designer, who is as much a savvy marketer as he is a fashion maven, and his retail empire reach beyond the fashion magazines and department store shops that feature RRL clothes. College students do not necessarily look to the ads in Esquire and Vogue for wardrobe ideas, Mr. Lauren reasons, or spend money in department and specialty stores.

Ralph had challenged us to come up with a new way of reaching young people because they don't read magazines as much," said Mary Randolph Carter, vice president of advertising for the Polo Ralph Lauren Corporation.

Peter Strom, the company's to-the-point President, explained that the traveling store was not about making a profit but, rather, about making a statement. The truck is scheduled to stop on college campuses through the first week of December, but Mr. Strom said he would be willing to finance a spring tour if the one this fall won the company exposure.

That sales are a secondary goal is not surprising, since $68 blue jeans and $78 flannel shirts may not fit into the average college student's budget. But Mr. Lauren is not worried about prices. "All the prices are very competitive," he said. "My products are really good products, high quality, and people will pay for that." Thrift-Shop Ambience.

The shop inside the truck, which has a sort of a Salvation-Army-thrift-shop-meets-general-store atmosphere, opens onto a tented area where clothes are stacked on battered industrial work tables, tossed into baskets or hung on mobile pipe racks. The collection is heavy on items like roomy barn jackets, tooled belts, faded flannel shirts and worn jeans

To handle logistics and campus politics, the company teams up at each campus it plans to visit with a student group, which then makes arrangements for the truck's arrival. In exchange, the traveling RRL shop donates 10 percent of its profits to the sponsoring organization.

Ads in campus newspapers and an "800" telephone number help herald the arrival of the truck, which stays two days at each campus. After leaving N.Y.U. it will head for the University of Connecticut at Storrs and then the University of Massachusetts at Lowell.

Said Sam Hamilton, the 29-year-old road manager who is leading the team, "I figure I can write a memoir when it's all over."

#double rl #rrl exchange #ralph lauren #rrl #ralph lauren western #rrlexchange #polo western #rrl western #polo ralph lauren #doublerl #rrl vintage

[monimccoythings]

Wedding Crashers Part 2

Wow this last few weeks have been absolutely insane. Got a job, had to swap cities, had to install a router, had to work a lot and came back tired but more or less satisfied, thank goodness I had this ready otherwise I would still be writing lol.

tagged: @karma-reader

As far as you expected a hostage situation to go, this wasn't entirely torture. Yeah, your 'chambers' were a tiny room that reeked of humidity and had a dirty mattress carelessly thrown into the ground with a worn out blanket; but it could be worse, right?

As Arlong himself had said, he was not going to maintain some human on his ship for free, so until your family and husband-to-be payed, you would have to earn your sustenance. Thankfully, your chores were basically all related to cleaning, cooking, and some maintenance jobs. However, you soon found how hard it was to do your tasks with a wedding dress, and in a couple of days there was barely anything left of the radiant and pristine white dress that you came with. You had decided to rip it knee length for better mobility, since the lowest part kept getting stuck in nails and getting dirty.

It was a bit awkward sharing a ship with a fishman crew that seemed to entirely hate your guts, but with time they started to tolerate your presence on the ship more and more. You even managed to befriend some of them and have some sort of cordial relationship with the others.

The only one that was a though nut to crack was Arlong. That fishman seemed to be impossible to read, there are times when he will be mocking you for not having received the impossibly high payment he had set; and then he suddenly would be curiously watching you accross the room, in deep thought. He terrified and confused you at the same time.

There was one memorable time you had been on top of a ladder, just trying to clean some dust when your feet had slipped. You could have cracked open your skull had not a pair of strong arms caught you. Arlong's.

"Careful, princess. I'm starting to think you are not worth what I asked for in exchange." His eyes were shining with barely contained fury, his pupils had turned into thin slits like a tiger. He unceremoniously dropped you on the hard wooden floor and stormed out of the room.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟

Arlong knew that the price he had set for you was way too high. But what could he say? He liked money and power, and whoever called him out on it could suck his dick. However, what he didn't like was not being in control.

Your presence in that ship was supposed to be temporary, once the deal was fulflled he would let you go and hopefully never see you again. He hadn't intended for it to be that long. Seems like your family's greed surpassed even his own.

And thanks to that, you had slowly carved your way into the crew's hearts. Despite your human condition, many of them seemed to enjoy your company, some even considering you a friend.

And much to his shame, he couldn't say he was completely immune to you. He had to admit that for a human, you were kinda attractive. When he saw you for the first time in that dress, his first thought was that you looked like a princess from some fairytale Fishmen parents told their children.

It was not only your delicate appearence but also your dedication and care to the tasks you were assigned. Without complain, not even once. Just doing it even if it greatly hurt your pride. He had to confess that he had stood in the shadows quietly observing you way too many times.

Sometimes, when you made use of what little free time you had you just sat on a secluded place of the ship, just watching the flow of the waves in complete silence. due to the position you were sitting, the dress would occasionally rise up, revealing some tantalizing flesh constrained by a garter that he had fantasized many times of ripping off with his teeth. Those thoughts were ocassionaly met with fits of fury at his own weaknesses.

Like that time you fell off the ladder and nearly killed yourself. He told himself that the anger he was feeling was because he didn't want the goods damaged and not because you could have seriously hurt yourself. Why you were up there escaped him, you weren't even assigned to that room that day, how carelessly of you to put yourself in a stupidly dangerous situation.

Poseidon, help him. He needed you out of this ship before he went crazy.

#arlong #arlong x reader #one piece x reader

[cherry-flavoured-thot]

i've got an obey me ask

imagine an mc that's just been plucked for the program being from the complete opposite end of the financial spectrum of our beloved cast of pixelated men.

an mc that grew up/was living paycheck to paycheck, barely able to make ends need and feed themselves. it'd be literally night to day with them. they'd gasp over price tags and shopping totals reading thousands of grimm, still stuck in the mindset of "that'll break the bank." a spreadsheet on their computer of their money spending and gaining (i can't remember the proper terms for that stuff, it's been a hot minute since i learned it all in middle school), a long list of things they think they could never stored somewhere.

sure, it'd be on their student file that that's what their life was back in the human world, but whether anyone knows or not besides them is up to you (id imagine lucifer would probably gloss over it completely in the rush of getting paperwork done so he can get to bed before 5am lol grumpy old man needs sleep). poor thing might break down if anyone knew..

sorry if this seems odd, i just feel that as someone who's right there in the pay-to-pay situation, i'd be in complete shock of being able to actually (and easily) afford things without having to debate whether i really needed it or earned it.

if anything in the text is broke, i blame tumblr desktop version. my phone isn't working the best so i had to move here from mobile ;-;

"You spent how much on....?" Is a question the mc repeats to every brother but with different things. Demonus, designer clothes, figurines, skincare products, food, books, ancient objects, new blankets and pillows etc. But no one really thinks too much of it, despite mc's shock every time.

It's not until Mammon complains one time about how broke he is, and mc turns to him, looking him dead in the face saying. "You could easily survive the week with that much." Then they proceed to write him up a budget with the minimal amount of Grimm in his account.

"...mc how did you do that?"

"Oh I'm a pro, I once lived off of five dollars and spite for a full week." Mammon, is casually bringing this up with Lucifer next time he sees him.

"You didn't mention mc was flat broke before comin' here."

"...that's because I wasn't aware." Lucifer is pulling up mc's student file, and there it is in big bold writing. Lucifer and Mammon both have a lightbulb moment, thinking about different occasions where the topic of money came up and mc was acting strange. "If I were you, I'd minimize mentions of your spending habits around mc."

"...yeah." Mammon feels so guilty. That not only does he stick to mc's budget, he always mentions to them when he's managed to save money rather than spend it. But he'll still be a devil on their shoulder encouraging them to splurge a little on themselves because they deserve it.

Lucifer, Satan and Asmodeus would be using this knowledge to let mc know they are providers. (Mammon would too. He would but his budget skills are bad so he's a sometimes provider!) They will always make sure mc is financially good, so feel free to spend (within reason - Lucifer would argue). (You deserve to be spoilt - Asmodeus, Satan)

Beelzebub and Leviathan, would just buy things for mc instead when the opportunity arises. Beel will always pay when inviting mc out for food, it's his treat. mc was talking about wanting to get a game? well they don't need to get because Levi had it express delivered to the front door. (Mammon would also do this when he has money lmao)

"If you want it just buy it." Belphegor is firmly in the middle ground, because he'll tiredly tell mc those words, when they've been debating aloud to get the thing in question. If they mention it's too expensive and talk themselves out of buying it. He just gets it for them.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me one master to rule them all #headcanons #om! #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #my writing tag #om lucifer #om mammon #om leviathan #om beelzebub #om belphegor #om satan #om asmodeus

[mclarenviolet]

What A Wicked Game You Play

Jake Seresin x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption

WC: 500+

A/N: I am a sucky writer but I just had to write about the dream I had last night about slow dancing to wicked game with jake because I am physically unable to stop thinking about it lol / not proofread + written on mobile, so apologies for any mistakes!

You sit by the edge of the dance floor, a warm buzz flowing through you after one too many glasses of champagne, smiling at the the image of Rooster and his new bride surrounded by the few people still left dancing so late into the night.

As the last notes of a Fleetwood Mac song fade away and the sultry tones of Chris Isaak's voice begins to bleed through the speakers, you catch a glimpse of Jake approaching you from the corner of your eye.

With a sly grin, he extends his hand. "Care to dance?" he asks, his voice tinged with an edge of nervousness that you so rarely heard from the cocky pilot.

You accept, your hand interlocking with his and nerves settling into your veins. It was no secret how you felt about Jake, you had always been the kind to wear your heart on your sleeve and the entirety of the Dagger squad were all too aware of the longing glances you often sent Jake's way.

Unknown to you was the way Jake would look at you when you were unaware, when the prying eyes of the other squad members weren't close by. Jake spent so much of his life sure that nothing could thrill him more than the feeling of being in his jet each day, but the strange twang of something in his chest when he saw you felt pretty damn close.

"You look absolutely stunning tonight," he whispers, the corners of his mouth upturned into his signature smirk.

You dip your head in an attempt to disguise your blush, "You don't scrub up so bad yourself, Hangman."

As you sway together, your bodies seem to fall so easily in sync, a comfortable silence settling between you both.

You catch glimpses of his mischievous smile as the song plays on, his eyes locked onto yours as you thank the alcohol in your system for giving you the confidence to hold his gaze.

Without warning, Jake's voice breaks the silence. "I've been wanting to do this all evening," he confesses, his voice laced with sincerity.

Before you can respond, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. Time seems to stand still and the world around you falls away, leaving only the taste of whiskey and champagne on his lips and the sensation of his warm hand cupping your jaw, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

As you reluctantly part, breathless and dizzy, Jake's face holds a teasing smile. "That was unexpected," you admit, a playful glint in your eyes.

Jake smirks, his arms still wrapped around you. "The best things in life are unexpected, sweetheart"

Over Jake's shoulder you spot Phoenix and Bob dancing together, watching you with knowing smiles. As the song fades out your eyes flick back up to Jake's face and you're met with a cheeky grin, "Ready for round two?" he says with a wink.

You lose track of time, dancing well into the early hours of the morning and preparing yourself for the inevitable relentless teasing from the whole squad at your undoubtedly very hungover brunch tomorrow, but it felt like a small price to pay to know that Jake reciprocated the feelings you had harboured for so long.

A/N: Thank you for reading!! I have written a few fics in the past but I suck at writing endings and never end up publishing them so whilst this ending still sucks at least I posted it 🤪

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x gn!reader #jake seresin #dagger squad #tgm #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic

[minu-moni]

Looking for possible alternatives for Google Docs

Considering the state of the world currently and especially regarding AI, I wanted to get a hold on possible alternatives for Google Docs, but nothing I’ve seen so far has appealed to me

I’m looking for apps that might be used for writing with these features:

1. Mobile portability

I write primarily using my phone, but to post stuff on ao3 I need to use the computer because the interface is awful on mobile, so it has to be an app I could use both on my phone and on my computer.

2. Offline usage

I don’t always have internet and don’t want to lose all progress I might have done offline.

3. Free or cheap (preferably free)

I’m Brazilian. Everything that costs a dollar will cost FIVE TIMES the price to me, so I’m not doing the bullshit that Scrivener does that would force me to pay for TWO licenses, which would unironically cost HALF the money I make in a month. It’s either free or under 100 reais (about 20 dollars, but the number might go down if the dollar gets more expensive).

4. Simple and ORGANIZED interface

I’m a slow learner and frankly don’t care about fancy writing stuff that I’m never gonna use. Please, I don’t want those apps that have a shit ton of stuff splashed on the screen, they’ll just confuse me more than anything and I’ll never use any of that trash. Just give me a word counter and I’ll be happy.

— —

For now I’m sticking with Google docs, it’s the best option to me even if it starts lagging after about 40k words. It seems better than every other option I’ve come across.

But if anyone knows of a better app I could use, please let me know! 🙏🙏🙏

#writblr #writing #writing apps #Google docs #suggestions #alternatives #writing struggles

[renmackree]

Nr. 2 with sterek for the fic prompts pls! Love your writing <3<3<3

Thank you Anon! I'm glad you enjoy my writing<3 Prompt me up!: Open

2. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Derek let out another exhale, this one just a little louder than before as he flipped another page in his book. It was a lazy summer Saturday and for once nothing seemed to be interrupting their plans. Then again, most days had become almost eerily quiet since leaving Beacon Hills. It was good -- yes, Stiles wouldn't complain -- but it was still strange. Stiles was playing the beta of a mobile game that Danny had made ("Wolf Quest"), making small mental notes on things the other would need to change before the launch.

The wolf let out another huff and Stiles shot him an incredulous look.

"Is there something you want to share with the class, Cujo?"

Derek glanced up from the book, his eyebrows furrowed at the nickname Stiles had decided to go with. Stiles didn't care. They were working on this thing called communication and if Derek was going to act like a passive aggressive Midwest farmer, Stiles was going to call him out. They might have moved to Minnesota, but damn it they were from California.

"No, it's nothing." Derek turned back to his book, not even meeting Stiles' eyes.

"Now is it a nothing nothing or a Derek nothing? Because those are two different things. Remember when you called your bleeding out nothing?"

"That was six years ago, let it go."

Stiles rolled his eyes so heavily there was no way Derek didn't feel it. People in New Mexico felt the eyeroll.

"Derek Josephine --"

"-- Still not my middle name."

"--Hale, you will tell me what is wrong or I will wash your clothing with the Laundry soap that has aconite in it."

Derek looked up now, narrowing his eyes as if he was trying to decide if Stiles was being serious or if he was bluffing.

"Yeah, itchy fucking balls all night, I'll even wash our sheets in them. So tell me what you're huffing and puffing about over there Big B."

The wolf closed the book and took a deep breath. "Casper took my spot."

Stiles blinked, looking down at the white and gray kitten on Stiles' lap. He had draped his little paws over his legs and was purring happily.  They had only just gotten him a few months ago after Derek had rescued him from the small lake outside their property. Stiles had instantly grown attached to the little mew mew and named him Casper since his meow was as soft as a ghost.

"Wait," Stiles felt a grin cross his face. "Wait a minute. Are you jealous? Of a cat? Derek." Stiles did everything in his power to stop the laughter; the big Derek Hale was jealous that a kitten had taken his usual reading spot on Stiles' lap.

The wolf huffed again, grabbing his book and standing up. "I'm going to read outside."

"No no no, Derek wait I'm not--" Stiles laughed again, shaking his head. "Derek please, no you can come lay your head on my lap too!"

"I hate this," Derek grumbled and began stomping off towards the yard. 

"You don't mean that. Come back, Balto! I'll even stroke your hair! Free of charge! Usually people pay a full penny for these magic fingers to touch their body. But for the low low price of your pride, I'll stroke you!" Stiles called from the couch, still not getting up. He had a cat on his lap, you don't disrupt that.

Derek had already closed the door and gone outside, but luckily werewolves had super hearing.

"I'll cook dinner tonight!" Stiles offered, trying to get Derek to come back. "I'll even be the little spoon tonight!" He could tell this one was going to require the big guns, something he'd been saving for a rainy day. Turns out a quiet Saturday was the perfect time.

"I'm ready to marry you!"

The door swung open loudly, scaring Casper off Stiles' lap and skittering down the hall. Derek's eyes were wide, mouth open enough to show the prominent bunny teeth. "Stiles..."

"And I'm not just saying it because you're pouting. I really do. Want to. Us. The wedding thing. But please, nothing like Jackson's that was --OH"

Derek had walked over and wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist, resting his head in his lap where Casper had been. His spot. 

It was a lazy summer Saturday and for once nothing seemed to be interrupting their plans.

#inbox answers #inbox fanfiction #sterek #ren writes #I hope you enjoy whatever this is #it was sweet fluff so have at it! #welcome to the hale mouth

[notbrokenjustfake]

“Fine. I’ll introduce myself… I am Scaramouche, the Balladeer or Akuji, former Fatui Harbinger. Now just a Wanderer. Feel free to ask me anything your little heart desires."

❖︎Rules❖︎

-Suggestive content ok -NSFW asks, I only ask that you're not too awful. -Mun and Muse are 21+ -Planning long threads is ok. -Ask role play is also welcome. -NSFW things will be tagged

❖︎Ships❖︎

I do not ship him with anyone. I don't mind your asks, but I am not here to play to the whims of the fandom in actual interaction. That is not to say it won't happen, if it does it will be organically. "I can fix him" relationships will not be accepted. Traveler, Nahida and Childe ships are a no.

❖︎Mundane things❖︎

I post mostly on mobile, so formatting and pretty things are just probably going to be out of the question. I work anywhere from 40 - 60 hours a week and I don't have a bunch of time (or skill or programs) to do what I would like to. With that being said, he is my main muse. Bite him, punch him, talk dirty to him, or try to get him to care. I am pretty laid back and just looking to have fun. If you’re expecting soft and loveable this is not the role play for you, however. He is a mean and manipulative shit. I play a bad person who might do bad things! This does not mean I am a bad person, or I would condone his actions at all. I don't. Understanding a bad person is not the same as condoning these things, just like writing them isn't condoning them. !!! I am not a very fandom friendly rp, sorry. I don't mind the asks, but I am not going to write it. !!! I also make things! Graphics dump is: @notbroken-gif-dump

❖︎Bio❖︎

The Wanderer /// Akuji Age: 400 + Race: Artificial Human Hair: Dark Indigo Eyes: Indigo Orientation: pansexual Vision: Anemo Weapon: Catalyst

*Canon up to the Parade of Providence.*

Divergence:

After leaving the Akademiya he roams around Teyvat looking for his true north. No longer bound by debt to the Traveler and Nahida, he simply does his own thing. Embracing his own inhumanity he has come to accept that he will never be human. No heart, no weakness. Forever unchanging. A beautiful puppet now bereft of strings. Though the despise of Gods and humans a like still reside in the puppet, he has begun to change, albeit in small ways. Vengeance, after all, is still paramount. Those who have wronged him will pay the price in blood and weakness is to be extinguished. Cold, calculated and sometimes manipulative, the puppet had begun to change and perhaps even care… Change is fragile and hard won. Affections and trust, harder still and perhaps just as fragile.

-> ❖︎Prompts❖︎ ❖︎Theories❖︎ ❖︎Tagged HC❖︎ ❖︎Timeline Tags❖︎ <-

#introduction #genshin #genshin wanderer #genshin impact #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche

[cheerstotheelites-if]

My cousin's wife is working from home as an ESL teacher (we are in Europe), teaching Chinese students. The pay is good and as far as I've been told, there is a good amount of demand from the Chinese job market for ESL teachers and, while having a degree in linguistics (foreign languages) or teaching is a plus for an applicant, it's not really demanded. You only need to have a good grasp of the English language and preferably have a document/certificate that proves your English level (either TOEFL or IELTS).

Another suggestion I'd give is learning and mastering a programming language if you manage to land a job as an ESL. Decide whether you want to be a front-end developer (basically developing/designing/maintaining the user interface) or a back-end developer (if you want to bother with maintaining the server side of things) and the area you want to focus on. If you go for web development then, considering your experience with HTML, CSS and Javascript, you could go with Node.js or Django/Flask if you want to learn something new for back-end development and go with React.js for front-end development. Otherwise go for mobile apps development using android studio. It's in very high demand, at least in Europe, but you have to be good at it. Create a good portfolio of programming projects which e.g are useful as a solution for a problem you or someone might have encountered in their daily life if you go for app development, or create user-friendly (this is very important) websites.

As for my last advice, is actually creating an account on Linkedin. You'll be able to connect with various professionals and companies throughout the world , gather information for various topics and see job listings for your preferred field of work, but most importantly, it will serve as a boost to the visibility/exposure of your skills or simply as a CV. It will increase your chances of finding a remote job.

A little question: When are you planning to take commissions?

Oh damn. Thank you so much for the advice and the suggestions, anon. I'll put it up for consideration, and see if I'll be able to do that

For the commissions though, I don't have a set date yet, since I'll have to rework what stuff I will and I will not write and up the prices a bit. Thinking $3-$5 with pay how you want from the initial $1 commissions, because needs have changed now. I am planning to take in 3 commissions, since this will be my first time using kofi to take them. I will inform you all when I'll be taking commissions through an announcement post, don't worry!

#author ask #curious anon #kind anon #L

[halofcrged]

RULES.

            going to try and keep this pretty simple & straightforward.

I.  You must be 18+ to interact with me. I am 42 years old.

            There will be not safe for work content on this blog of the sexual and potentially of the graphic violence nature.  I do tag everything that might be triggering and am happy to tag whatever you ask me to so long as I remember!

                            I ask that you tag any visuals containing spiders with spider tw* spiders tw* arachnophobia tw* etc etc and yes, I know it’s a weird one but anything about the taste of soap or eating soap is a trigger so just tag it with soap tw* or penny don’t look* as I have that blacklisted too.  I don’t have any triggering fcs or what not.

II. This blog is multi-ship, multi-verse, crossover & au friendly.  

          Every ship is in its’ own verse unless previously discussed with all parties.  Every thread or set of threads takes place in its own universe unless previously discussed with all parties.

III.  I write anything from one-liners to novellas, it really just depends on life, my headspace, how much sleep I’ve been getting, how much else I have going on in real life, etc.

IV. My activity is NOT consistent.  I am infamous for blog hopping.  I have literally replied to some starters / replies two years+ after they were originally written.  I am not fast.  If I am fast, it’s by some small miracle and perfect storm of brain, muse and free time.  It will not last.

V.  I have kids, cats and dogs; I am in college, I have a household to take care of and I have many physical and mental handicaps that can affect my ability to function and write, including but not limited to rheumatoid arthritis, osteoarthritis, spinal stenosis, ganglion cysts, torn meniscus, migraines, hypothyroidism, PMDD, nerve damage, herniated disc, ADHD, depression, anxiety, C-PTSD and severe insomnia.  

                          Roleplay is something I do for fun.  

                                  If it isn’t fun, I don’t do it.  

                                         If it’s stressing me out, I’ll avoid it.  

VI. I do graphic commissions.  

          I run @tuppencetrinkets where I post the millions of screencaps and 200x100 icons that I make.  The resources are free but donations are always appreciated as I pay about $40 in hosting / program fees a month.   My commissions are always pay what you can.  I hate setting prices because I want everyone to have pretties if they want them and I don’t know what anyone can afford at any given time.  I do everything from base icons to edited icons, backgrounds, headers, dividers, promos, videos, you name it.  I try to be quick with turnaround but again – sometimes I just can’t be.

VII.  I am fine with plotting things out in advance or winging it.  I really don’t care, whatever you are more comfortable with is fine with me.

               I like all kinds of plots.  I like fluffy things, slice of life, broships, frenemies, enemies, familial, found family, long arcing, one shot throwaway, dark and twisted, you name it plots.  I will not write n*ncon or anything nsfw themed /even hinted at with minor characters and I won’t write any explicit child death etc. but most everything else is fair game.

VIII.  You can throw a million memes at me any time you want to.

IX.  You can throw any and all starters at me any time you want to.

                I’m not necessarily mutual exclusive but I don’t guarantee I’ll respond to memes or starters from non-mutual blogs.

X. I use icons, headers, promos etc. that I make myself 99% of the time.  Please do not use any of my edited graphics.  All base icons I use are free and available on my resource blog.  

XI. I use small text and my icons are 200x100 with empty space to make them 540x130 so that they don’t stretch out on mobile.  I prefer not heavily edited replies in terms of font variance and colors but really don’t care that much.

XII.  I’ve probably forgotten relevant things but, who knows.

XIII.  No drama.  Period.  I’m not interested.  

XIV.  I’m here for fun.  I’m really pretty easy going.  If you have any questions feel free to toss them into my inbox!

#RULES.