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auspicioustidings · 6 months

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I love your work! May I please request ghost finding a captured civilian in an enemy base and taking her for himself?

Ah little posessive freak Ghost my beloved <3 I didn't know if you were looking for fluff or twisted Simon so I've leant towards the latter!

CW: Attempted rape (non-graphic), kidnapping

They had been warned there were going to be civillians in the building, but it wasn't the first time Ghost had to work around hostages to get the job done. It was an understanding on the team that whereever possible it wasn't going to be the huge fucker in the skull mask who dealt with that side of things. If they knew where hostages were being kept, that's where they sent Gaz or Johnny or even Price to settle them and get them out. Not the Ghost.

And that was working smoothly once again. Gaz had radioed in saying he found where they were being kept, had taken out their guards and would wait for the all clear for an exit route for the handful of doubtless terrified little civilians looking at him like he was the second coming for saving them.

They were all accounted for and that always made Ghost feel some tension bleed away. The last thing he needed to be worrying about was hostage situations.

The rest of the mission was easy enough, taking out any enemies and finding the saferoom to snoop around in for intel. It was laughably easy to get into. Saferooms only really worked if the person who knew the code didn't spill it at the first little twist of an arm, the press of a knife against their throat. They only worked if they were used. But obviously playing at warlord the man was arrogant, thought he could easily take on whoever came at him. Idiot. The moment he had the code, Ghost had no more use for him until he could get him somewhere for a proper interrogation, so he was smacked in the skull with a pistol and out cold. His fingerprints and eye scanner worked just fine even with him unconcious and the code he had given beeped with a green light and the click of a lock.

It was a damn good thing that you assumed it was your captor coming in and so were aiming the cast iron at where his face would be. Instead it smacked into the tactical vest of a much taller man. You hissed and spat and fought like a feral cat when the man immediately reacted by grabbing your wrist and twisting so you cried out and dropped the pan. There went your weapon, there wasn't much else to use in this little safe room but for the small implements in the kitchen and you hadn't felt confident with a knife. A blunt object with a larger surface area had felt like a better bet.

"Don't fucking touch me! I'll claw your fucking eyes out!" you spat out at what you were sure was a bloody monster.

You had been a victim of wrong place wrong time about 12 hours prior. You had broken down on a stretch of road that barely got any use and had fuck all phone signal to get help, so were at the mercy of someone passing by. Just your luck the someone passing by was some slimy asshole with a compound nearby he thought to drag you to. He had found out quickly he wasn't getting his hands on you without a fight. You were a bit of a mess, shirt torn and what you suspected was a cracked orbital bone from where he had punched you after you bit his tongue. You wished you had bit fucking harder.

The only thing that had saved you in the end was the alarm going off. The man had thrown you into the safe room, telling you that once he had dealt with whoever dared break into his base he was going to fuck you bloody. You'd kill him before he got the chance. You'd fucking kill him before all this adrenaline fuelled fight turned into fear and had you accepting your fate.

The monster in the skull mask didn't have the laugh of a monster. It was gruff but there was something very genuine about it. He had his hands on both of your wrists, locking them so you couldn't scratch at him with yout body pulled right into him so you couldn't kick either. Your wrists were pinned at your chin so you couldn't even bite at him. Didn't much stop you from fighting, trying to just drop all of your weight to get him off balance. The added weight did not phase him in the slightest.

"Settle sweetheart, I'm the good guy."

"Do good guys often wear skull masks?!" you hissed back, still struggling to no avail.

He manouvered so that you could see out of the doorway and to the passed out man on the floor.

"They do when they're going after bad guys."

It was like all the adrenaline had finally burned off at right that moment and you felt yourself go boneless in his hold, fight gone. You had a sick moment of being disappointed that you could see that the man was still breathing.

"We sure all the civilians are accounted for?"

You felt a little dazed as you squinted back at him before realising he must have been speaking on the radio. Whatever he heard back must have been interesting because he looked at you, considering, before twisted the little dial to another channel.

"Got a stray, let's keep it out of the reports."

Simon knew that the 141 would back him up. After all, him and the Seargants had always admired the relationship between Price and his wife even if when they first met she kept trying to murder him. She had grown out of it after a few years.

And Simon had never felt like this before. He thought you truly would have killed him if you had been able when he opened the door. It was love at first murder attempt for him.

He cooed at you and comforted you the whole way through exfil. It wasn't until you realised that you couldn't leave that it really started getting fun.

#mhairidrabbles #cod #fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #the two things that you can blame bo for are Johnny always winding up puppy coded and the 141 just abducting partners #also the idea that Price is going to be the one coaching Ghost through this whole abduction and seduction act #mhairidrabblescodkidnappers

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atheneummm · 26 days

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everyday the lars pinfield lovers grow stronger and slightly more invincible.

#cmon team #imagine me acting like a coach on the sidelines #lars pinfield #lars pinfield x reader #ghostbusters #frozen empire

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chirpsythismorning · 2 years

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thank u @ximenaahuatzi for this gem

#byler #stranger things #director: will byers #top billed cast: mike wheeler #acting coach: will byers #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things spoilers #noah schnapp #finn wolfhard

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quasieli · 1 year

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I really like these hyperspecific polls, so here's one about me!

#Eli Speaks #Polls #also re: the 9th option #I know Kevin from WtNV!#I was in an acting program as a kid and he was one of the coaches #and he even helped me get into some other programs and is just the sweetest guy in the world #haven't spoken to him in a while but my mom actually keeps in touch with him from time to time lol

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romance-rambles · 14 days

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319 ROSES AND A DATE

Alkaid gets asked on a date by the girl he desperately wanted to ask out, at least before he found out who the flowers were for. You'd like to maintain that nothing you said was a lie.

— pairing: [modern] alkaid mcgrath x little painter/you

— word count: 2.8k

— tags: takes place after alkaid's florist ending [everything else happens the same way, except alkaid's first meeting with mc happens after godheim], misunderstandings [not unrequited love], some angst

— note: i was moved to try and write a flower shop au at least once after godheim but destiny's call really helped me out. handed me everything on a gold platter and said, "go to town, aya."

return to lbc masterlist | series: none

ALKAID STARES DOWN BLANKLY AT the bouquet of white roses in his hands. At some point during his stunned silence, he had unwittingly taken them off yours, just as you had hoped for.

All 319 of them, to be precise—which is a number that, put in a different context, can also refer to 3/19, the day of his birth. Even with the limited capacity he has at the moment to sort out the events that led up to this moment, he can't help the way his heart flutters at the knowledge that you remembered, even though so much time has passed.

"Alkaid?" A gentle tap against his shoulder robs the flowers of their spotlight. "Do you...not like the flowers?"

He looks up and sees you, still here—still dressed so beautifully he's once more in danger of succumbing to asphyxiation, with a fretful expression that makes him wonder if he's already there. When he does not respond, you close the remaining distance between them, obscuring all else from his vision.

It is a problem only because he has nowhere left to run.

"No," he croaks out finally, leaning back over the counter to accommodate you.

Obliviously, you move closer, leaving him with no choice but to avert his gaze once more. Alkaid can only hope you aren't offended—that you don't think he finds you unattractive, with how often he does so. It's only that your beaming smile reminds him of what it feels like to stare down the sun.

"They're lovely."

Satisfied with his answer, you pull back. Your hands are clasped behind your back, and your ponytail sways slightly, once more retreating behind your shoulder. There's an adorable star-shaped pin fastened onto the strap of your cross-body bag.

He sighs discretely, relieved, and pulls the bouquet up to his face as casually as he can. The petals, he hopes, will be enough to cover up the deep scarlet staining his cheeks.

"I'm glad!" You clap your hands together. "I was worried they wouldn't be to your liking. Maybe I should've asked you what your favorite flower was before I tried asking you out."

A self-deprecating laugh slips out as you scratch your cheek. An intricate design spans the length of your nail now—shades of red and green shaped into what he can clearly recognize as halves of a rose hugging the edges—against a black background.

Alkaid bites his lip, converting the interrupted gasp into a quiet exhale.

"You guessed right. I like white roses," he says, hoping desperately that his words are nothing less than reassuring. "Though they share that spot with lilies as well."

"Lilies," you repeat, a determined gleam in your lovely eyes. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

He bites his lip harder.

THE MORNING HE'S DUE TO hand off your flowers, Alkaid finds himself contemplating the benefits of coffee behind the register.

Though his favorite concealer and his usual color corrector have done much to brighten up his undereyes, they can do little for the grogginess that comes with staying awake the whole night (Why such a specific number? Who are they for? Do you remember him at all?). And, by the time the clock strikes nine, he's already downed three cups of strongly-brewed tea.

What pushes him to finally break away from his usual preferences is a simple headache.

The store is empty, and there remains more than half an hour before you're set to arrive. A sharp twinge of pain in the side of his head as he stands up to check on your flowers draws out a careful hiss. Alkaid, with some amount of lingering hesitance, flips the sign on his door to closed, with a note explaining the rough length of absence. Then he walks out the door, his destination the artsy cafe across the street—the one that makes him think of you whenever he walks in.

Allen, the normally deadpan barista on duty, seems to shut down when Alkaid corrects him on his order. Soon, the news spreads to the rest of the employees, who take turns staring at him as he leaves with a warm thermos of coffee in his hands.

But, in the end, it proves to be an unnecessary trip.

You're already in front of his flower shop when he returns, half-crouched and studying the sign the way someone might study a work of abstract art. Today, too, you have a large, dark blue backpack slung over both your shoulders, its surface decorated with various pins and stickers—mostly of a cat, your cat, but also of a popular manga that you seem to like.

In Passing, that is.

It's about a love triangle featuring a tyrant emperor and a well-liked leader of the rebellion. Even without the reviews praising it for subverting expectations, Alkaid would've picked it up anyway.

He's on the third volume right now, and—

Hmm? His eyebrows furrow. Where did I leave it? In my bag?

All of a sudden, the sleep that had been so insistent on dragging his eyelids down vanishes. Alkaid wracks his brain desperately for the answers, stomach churning at the thought of you finding out about his latest reading material.

Unfortunately, you choose that moment to turn around.

"Oh, Alkaid!"

Your confused expression soon melts away, leaving behind only a cheerful smile. Tightening his grip on his thermos, he exhales silently, before flashing you a gentle smile.

"You're here." Time stops as you begin to approach him, your keychains singing a short jingle to accompany you. Your expression softens, as does your voice. "You didn't forget about me, right?"

Alkaid can only sputter out a half-coherent apology.

The words get drowned out by the insistent, purposeful beating of his heart. It's as if it wants to claw itself out of his chest and entrust itself to your hands, as it is, with shattered bones sticking out of it.

You laugh prettily, as always. "It's okay. I'm just joking."

Then, like a moth to a flame, his gaze falls upon your lips. A soft red, with a glossy sheen, one that matches the color of your skirt. On a plain canvas, it's all the more striking. It leaves him wondering about things he, currently a stranger, shouldn't be fretting over.

He's not sure how long he stares for, with slightly parted lips and a series of half-realized thoughts chiding at him to stop—only that it's not long enough for you to grow uncomfortable.

Alkaid clears his throat, holding up his thermos (I should've bought her something too, he thinks) as an explanation. "I apologize for the wait. I went over to the cafe across the street."

"Coffee lover?" you guess, making room for him to open the door.

"I'm usually more of a tea person." As he slips inside the store, he can't help but chuckle self-consciously, remembering all the different ways he imagined this scene playing out. Naturally, his next words are nothing more than the most blatant lie he's ever told. "I thought I'd try something else for a change."

"Is it a nice place?" Upon seeing the puzzled look he sends over his shoulder, you clarify, "The cafe. I've seen the reviews, but I think only experience can beat the testimony of someone you know."

He considers your question for a moment. "The staff is very friendly. I often stop by during lunch for their sandwiches."

"I see..." you murmur.

"I think you'd like it," Alkaid blurts out as he slips in behind the register, happy to note that his copy of Volume 3 is, in fact, in his bag. "The owner enjoys collecting art—there's a lot of different paintings all over the cafe. Um, since you're an art major."

"Well, now I have to try it out." You don't seem particularly startled that he knows about your major; instead, you take to drawing patterns across the wooden countertop. He thinks he sees the familiar curve of an A. "The cookies you recommended last time were really great too."

When he keeps his silence, the complete opposite of what the state of his mind currently is (she remembers?), you look up.

"Hmm?" You tilt your head, confusion clouding your once smiling expression. "Do I have the wrong person? You're Alkaid, right? From that time in the snow mountains?"

He forces himself to nod, but that too is enough.

A shy smile blossoms on your lips, paired with both a brief flash of relief flitting through your gaze and the slight, almost imperceptible widening of your eyes. Placing your hands above your heart, you sigh exaggeratedly.

"You had me worried for a moment," you say. Your eyelashes cast a dark shadow on your undereyes. "I thought we'd never meet again."

For a moment, he wonders if there's more to your sorrow than you let on. Does it have anything to do with the way you disappeared? Somewhere so far away that no one could reach you at all?

Alkaid shakes off his thoughts.

"But we did," he responds carefully. I never thought we'd meet again either, he does not say instead. "Whether it was destiny, whether it was just a coincidence, we did. All we can do is make the most of it."

A tinge of sadness mars your lovely smile. "I think that sounds lovely."

SOON AFTER THEIR REUNION, DONE properly this time, down to exchanging numbers, Alkaid excuses himself to go fetch your flowers. When he returns, lovesick heart brimming with curiosity over the recipient's identity once more, he finds you've returned to doodling on the counter.

"Here they are, 319 white roses," he announces.

There's a blank expression on your face when you look up. Slowly, as recognition dawns upon you, it melts away to something bitter and rough. Its jagged edges dig into his his heart, leaving a paralyzing mix of sadness and longing to wash over him.

And then—

"Thank you," you say, and take the flowers off his hand.

His hand twitches, yearning for the camera he still keeps in his backpack, for the days where he feels like memorializing something instead. Lovely is the only word he has to describe you as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears and pull the bouquet close with a faint smile.

Then, you close your eyes, and you inhale deeply. Once more, you are somewhere else—somewhere far, somewhere he can't reach.

"Ah, sorry." You crack one eye open. Now, the bouquet is clutched against your chest, but your sadness remains. "I guess I'm a bit nervous. I don't know if he'll like the flowers."

He? From some far corner of his mind, he recalls the image of your guardian. A tall man, with long silver hair and a pleasant, but guarded expression. Cael, he thinks is the name.

"For your guardian?" Alkaid inquires.

Your smile drops entirely at the mention of your guardian. A complicated series of emotions flash in your gaze, soon averted to one of the potted plants at the display. Scratching your cheek, you offer him a polite laugh.

Today, only some of your nails are a plain black. The rest remain bare.

"No, it's not for Cael." You answer carefully. "Actually—"

Looking down at the flowers, you take a deep breath. When next you speak, your voice has reclaimed the softness it'd shown him earlier—your searching gaze as well. You leave him with the truth, imparting it onto him like a mischievous secret.

"There's someone I'd like to ask out."

His stomach drops, and you leave him with the memory of lovelorn smile, forever imprinted behind his eyelids.

"I hope he says yes."

[3:00 PM] you: Alkaid, do you have any plans tonight?

[3:17 PM] alkaid: No, I'm free

[3:21 PM] alkaid: Did something happen?

[3:22 PM] you:

[3:22 PM] you: I haven't asked him out yet. Gonna do it soon

[3:23 PM] you: All of my other friends are busy rn.

[3:24 PM] you: Is it okay if I stop by after you close up shop?

[3:24 PM] you: I'd want to talk to someone about it

[4:31 PM] alkaid: Of course

SOMEHOW, ALKAID MANAGES TO GET through the rest of the day.

His heart is held together haphazardly with duct tape and carefully-placed staples, though their efforts are thwarted constantly by a popular refrain (You hardly know him. Of course there's someone else.), and he's one stubbed toe away from being reduced to tears, but he manages. Somehow.

He swallows down his what-ifs and maybes and waits, watching the hands on his wristwatch inch ever closer to six in the evening. And eventually, the vaguely promised time arrives.

As he's stepping out from behind the register, a familiar chime echoes cuts through the silence. Alkaid looks up and sees you, dressed still in red and black, your turtleneck and skirt swapped out for a knee-length dress.

"Hi."

The bouquet of white roses—held in both hands, a stark contrast to the black leather jacket you're wearing—covers up its neckline. You smile sheepishly at him, pulling at the mesh of your bright red skirt to mimic a curtsy.

You're beautiful. Even the flowers surrounding them pale in comparison. Even the aurora they'd seen together pales in comparison. You rob him of his breath and leave gasping for a reprieve, but so long as he keeps his memory in even the smallest capacity, that's simply impossible.

The familiar knife called jealousy stabs into his heart, leaving him keenly aware of his longing. He averts his gaze, but the damage has already been done. You are beautiful, and he has waited years to see you.

"Hi." Alkaid swallows uncomfortably, as the sound of your footsteps draws closer. In a panic, his hands brace themselves against the edge of the counter. "Was something wrong with the flowers? I thought—"

A mysterious expression sits upon your features when you pull his gaze onto you, seemingly oblivious to your magnetic power.

With a deep breath, you thrust the flowers at him, knuckles brushing against his chest. You pull back for a moment, taking your flowers with you, and the soft coral of your blush makes it difficult to discern whether you find yourself a victim the of same scarlet blooming across his cheeks.

"That's—" You cough politely. There's a heart-shaped pendant dangling from your golden necklace. The dress is either strapless or your jacket has covered up the straps. "—what I'm here to find out."

Alkaid tilts his head. His confused gaze darts across his surroundings and stops at the glass window of the store's display, thinking perhaps that your mystery boy might be outside. But while the streets are not barren, there is no one outside his store.

You say his name in the same way you told him your secret. Like it's something precious. Like it's something you love. And the truth begins to settle into his bones with a finality that deafens the half-coherent puzzle pieces he's been trying to fit together—he is the only one you could possibly ask out in this empty store.

He has no choice but to look back. At you, and the bouquet you're offering him.

"Would you like to go to the movies with me?"

AND THAT IS HOW HE finds himself with the beginnings of a bruise forming on his lip. He doesn't mind, not when the sting he feels as he wets his lip reminds him that this is not, in fact, a dream (It feels like it though, he thinks), nor a fantasy.

"You...you don't have a girlfriend, do you? It's been a while since then..."

You rub your arm lightly, muttering about something he can't understand, and what else is Alkaid meant to do but take your hand? He squeezes it gently, tickled to find that he can return the favor for all the times you've stolen his breath away.

Your lips part slightly, but whatever you hoped to say does not leave the confines of your mysterious mind. Instead, you draw some of your hair from both sides over your flushed cheeks.

"Nothing like that," he reassures, smiling gently at you. "I'm just surprised. I didn't realize you were talking about me."

"That's a reli—what." In a single moment, your voice goes from girlishly breathless to an irritated flat. Releasing your hair, you blink uncomprehendingly at him. "How?"

Watching you descend into another muttered ramble, Alkaid shrugs. "If you'd still like that date..."

You whip your head in his direction. "Then it's a date!"

The first time he met you, it was when you had fished out of the snow and offered him a warm drink to fight off the cold. They had talked about miscellaneous things, from your half-hearted desire to request a camera for your birthday to who could make the better model between them both.

And back then, he had thought to himself that there was no sound more beautiful than your laugh.

Almost four years after the fact, as he watches you giggle, Alkaid can confidently say his past self had the right idea. Such a specific title leaves him with room to declare your follow-up smile to be just as breathtaking.

#fics by aya #lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush chronicles x reader #alkaid mcgrath #alkaid mcgrath x reader #lovebrush alkaid #lovebrush alkaid x reader #lbc alkaid #lbc alkaid x reader #little painter #rambles from here on ->#i feel like lars has the common sense not to act like a ceo in a manhwa but i really do think cael would think this is fine #i feel like he'd probably be like “this is the least i can do”#that said i am curious if mc paid for those flowers with her own money?? is her mom rich too #i feel like she'd still be funded by lars (because fan) LOL he also coached her on how to ask alkaid out it's the blind leading the blind #should i write mc's pov too LOL #this was just supposed to be silly little misunderstandings and now there's ANGST and BACKSTORY and MORE ANGST

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scratchybeardsweetmouth · 1 year

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“I should’ve been braver” | 1x08 & 2x06

#leslie higgins #rebecca welton #coach beard #ted lasso #tedlassoedit #parallels #ok maybe (in beard's voice) not the same situation #but i kinda like to think that leslie carrying that around #led him to want to act this time when he had the chance

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op3ra · 21 days

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smokin car

#ashleyyyyy my luv #starlight express #stex #starlight express fanart #stex fanart #starex #ashley the smoking car #her friendship/subsequent falling-out with rusty is one of my favorite things to write it's soooo interesting to me #will detail it later #she should be a little older actually to match rusty but im too lazy to fix it #despite having longer years in service most coaches act/appear between 18-35 #art or whatever

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sivler · 17 days

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I started watching this show recently and I cannot stop drawing the characters

audio from this video!!

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #very lazy animation but it’s always nice to just have fun with it #video #I feel like Sam would be the Danny Phantom acting coach #She’d try so hard to get him to listen and try to build a sort of persona for him

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davidaugust · 10 days

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Worked with an acting coaching client on material they're going to play, and explored how it can go viscerally. How much space you take up and how hard you metaphorically push the other characters can transform how you do what you do.

#acting #coaching #coach #acting coach #acting coaching #actors #actorslife #characters

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booksandpaperss · 1 year

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when people pick up on Mike’s gay and autistic coding but instead of considering that he might actually be gay and autistic they just criticize Finn’s acting choices 😑😑

#still remember this one time I saw an acting coach video on my fyp by a supposed professional acting coach #who not only gave shitty advice but used FINN WOLFHARD as an example of ‘overanticpating’ in the scene where el dumps him in s3 #like no sir he is not doing a bad job he is literally just playing his character properly #jesus #mike wheeler #gay mike wheeler #autistic mike wheeler #byler #<- kinda #y’all get it

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jacobtheloofah · 1 year

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dear strong bad how do you fold origami with boxing gloves on

original comic: X

#voice acting #homestar runner #strong sad #coach z

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thebroccolination · 11 months

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{ Gawin & Krist On and Off the Set of Be My Favorite }

#looking back at these it’s really sweet seeing how their friendship and chemistry developed #the acting coach for bmf said she’ll be posting workshop videos at some point so i’m excited to see those #especially considering how much distance gawin usually keeps from social media i’m really moved by how many photos on set show him smiling #i’m so glad they were cast together #i think they learned a lot from each other #and their onscreen chemistry is fantastic #i want to send the casting director so many flowers #gawin caskey #krist perawat #gawinkrist #be my favorite the series #be my favorite

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psudopod · 4 months

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Splatmas is coming, and you know what that means?

Bet none of you guessed it's Psudopod's Big Lecture on How Y'all Need SPORTSMANSHIP!

Sportsmanship is behaviour and attitudes that show respect for the rules of a game and for the other players.

Part 1: Rules of the Game.

There are indeed rules, here they are!

In Splatoon 3 you may be reported for breaking the rules for the following infractions;

Inappropriate Nickname

Inactivity

Intentional Disconnection

Unsportsmanlike Play (Self-Destruction)

Unsportsmanlike Play (Disrupting Team)

Intentionally Not Contributing

Network Manipulation

Malicious Use of Glitches or Errors

Cheating

Griefing (the action or an act of deliberately spoiling other players' enjoyment of a game by playing in a way that is intentionally disruptive and aggravating)

I've bolded the rules I see broken, often, especially during splatfests. Thankfully, I rarely see the ones I didn't bold. What I do see, pretty often, is Bad Sportsmanship.

I am referring to mid-match squid parties.

What are squid parties? A squid party is when the players ignore the in-game objectives and do... Whatever they feel like! Usually, this is seen as people standing around squidbagging together. It's honestly pretty fun! When everyone is on the same wavelength and the full lobby parties, it can be a cool time to explore how the game feels, play party games, and be silly! Note however, I said the full lobby. To play by your own rules when any single player is playing by the game's rules, is unsportsmanlike.

Thankfully, for all you partiers, there is a simple and easy way to make sure every player in your lobby is playing by the same rules; private lobbies! Make a private lobby, invite your friends, or join a pool to make some friends! I imagine "Squidparty" is a code you could use, but please do share any codes you've tried in your reblog. You can even plan games in lobbies, like "bumper brushes" or "hide-and-seek"!

Please, if you want to party, join a private lobby. Everyone else there will want to party, too. Assume everyone in public lobbies is there to play the game as described by the rules, even if they leave you to party.

If you are in a lobby to play, don't ignore partiers. They are just as often "Griefing" with intentions to use your mercy against you. Kill. Leave the lobby. Report. Move on. Pick any of the multiple rules that apply to squid party behavior. You can find the report button in the battle logs section of the terminal. Don't join a private lobby and report the goofs going on there, don't join a public battle and goof.

Part 2: Respect for Other Players

The Sportsmanship life doesn't end when you put the controller down! Y'all still Unsportsmanlike in the community. You need to treat other players right. We don't have Rules out here, but here's some bullshit I'm sick of seeing:

Racism (colorism and xenophobia)

Bullying (extreme language, hate mail harassment)

Being a sore loser (BS points 1 and 2, really.)

I don't need to re-hash the colorism issues. This is an old problem. Stop. Please remember your comments on the physical features of the idols can be hurtful, real people share those features.

What I do have to hash is the xenophobia. Y'all aware that blaming an entire nationality for you losing is bigoted? Y'all aware that claiming an entire nationality is just too good at the game is a stupid stereotype? Stop saying weird shit about Japanese players.

Bullying- hey, are you aware saying "KYS," any suicide baiting, is bullying and harassment? This is EXTREME language. Do not throw that shit around in the Splatfest tags when you're sad you lost. Do not throw that shit around in plaza posts. You will lose your plaza posting ability, account-wide. I dare you to send that shit on anon. I will drag your ass. Again.

It's ok to be sad you lost, but please be aware that lashing your negative feelings out on real people, or in ways that can hurt real people, is POOR SPORTSMANSHIP. Do you remember, in grade school sports, how the coach would tell you to line up and tell each member of the opponent team "good game"? You ever wonder why?

You should always be grateful and courteous, respectful, and constructive to every one of your opponents. You would not be able to play the game without opponents.

This splatfest, I really hope to see some better sportsmanship inside and outside the game.

I've said way too much already, I'll leave you with homework. This 'fest, I'd like for you to thank your opponents. Even when they beat you. Especially then. They did their best and respected you with a display of the fruits of their effort.

#splatoon 3 #splatfest #frostyfest #Frye #shiver #big man #discourse #long post #sportsmanship #rant #kids please talk to your coach/gym teacher about how you act after a fest this is the one thing you can learn in P.E.

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