soma and 20! (things you said that i wasn't meant to hear)
He was not eavesdropping. God help him, he wants to make that perfectly clear.
Maka breaks her arm after a mission, her body a war-zone in itself, bruises spattering pale skin, her lip splits down the middle, giving her a wounded puppy look. He takes the dutiful place of healthy Weapon, he gets prescriptions from pharmacies, he gets ice packs from the the corner store where the Mummy always looks likes he’s judging Soul, and he leaves the apartment at six am when she’s whimpering for ice pops. (She refuses to call them otter pops. He refuses to acknowledge her first four requests.).
Soul does as she asks, because he’s guilty, after all, he’s protected in battle by demon steel and black blood.
So he’s awake, six fucking fifteen in the damn morning, hauling watered down ice pops into the kitchen. He pulls two green ones and a pink out while he shoves the rest of them into their already straining freezer.
“Hey, Mama.” He can hear Maka vaguely, and he freezes, first in genuine surprise, then in morbid curiosity. Soul is not known for his ability to keep things in order, so he doesn’t know how long its actually been since the elusive Mother Albarn has contacted her child. “Yeah, there’s a couple broken bones. But I’m okay!!”
Bah fucking humbug she’s okay. This isn’t Maka’s first broken bone rodeo, but she is moving around slower than usual, and she’s not her best self right now. “No, I’m taking care of myself, promise. Soul has been helping me out a bunch.”
Wait, Soul? Since when did he evolve from My Weapon to first name basis with the God of Meisters (or maybe just his). This was news to him! “Of course he’s on top of things. He’s been really helpful you know? No! Don’t even-”
He is in front of her door, he doesn’t even remember walking over there but here he is…right in the Danger Zone. God help and Forgive him, he needs to know about this conversation. “Mama, stop. It’s not like that!”
What isn’t like that?! Damn it all he’s can do not burst through that door and begging her to own up to whatever is it!
“…he doesn’t like me like I like him.”
Shitting Hell, his heart stops, the color drains from his face. He needs every ounce of willpower to keep from busting in there, and planting a kiss on her lips. He retreats back to the kitchen, organizing her otter pops into a more orderly situation.
When she calls for him a few moments later, he goes to her, fistful of pink otter pops with him.
March 14, 1917 - February Revolution: Tsar’s Train Stopped by Revolutionaries, Petograd Soviet Issues Order No. 1, No Saluting Officers Off-Duty and All Weapons Must be Given to Elected Soldiers’ Committees
Pictured - Power to the people! The Red Guards of Vulkan Factory, Petrograd.
Revolutionaries halted the Tsar’s train on March 14 as it approached the capital from Mogilev, the military headquarters where he had been staying. Inside the city, street-fighting continued between revolutionaries and the few soldiers and policemen who had remained loyal to the Tsar. There were already two distinct revolutionary movements in the city claiming to hold predominance. One was the Provisional Government, formed from members of the Duma. The other was the Petrograd Soviet of Workers’ and Soldiers’ Deputies, composed mostly of radical Mensheviks and Bolsheviks.
That day, the Provisional Government had ordered the soldiers to return to their barracks, lest the situation get too out of hand. Skeptical of the Provisional Government and particularly of head deputy, Mikhail Rodzianko, a conservative with ties to the Tsar, the Soviet issued it’s own Order No. 1: all weapons should be turned over to elected committees of soldiers, and they should only follow orders from officers who could be trusted to follow the Revolution. Military discipline would be maintained, but democratized, and soldiers should no longer salute their officers when off-duty, and refer to them as “Sir,” rather than the traditional “Your Excellency.”
What about nyx kissing luna's hand? Not only in a ... chivalrous way 😏
OMG IM SO SORRY I LEFT THIS FOR SO LONG ANON! I don’t write full blown nsfw if thats what you’re after, but I hope this is steamy enough XD
Hands. All were different. Some calloused and blistered, some aged with the length of time, and others soft and delicate.
The moment the princess’s hands were placed upon Nyx’s, he could see the heavy contrast between his rough blistered palms—worn from his duties as a weapon—and her flawless skin, like the hands of a divine. He kissed them, chivalrously like the soldier he was, uttering words of her welcome with his best manner. Yet when he brushed his lips on her slender fingers, he felt the caress of serenity upon his being—like a blessing from a goddess. And it was a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while.
Kissing her hands wasn’t anything new to the glaive since Lunafreya’s arrival. It was something he was required to do at the start of every escort. However the more times he placed his lips on her soft hands, the more he craved that feeling of tranquillity she gifted.
And soon, her hands weren’t the only thing this glaive was kissing.
The princess could feel warm breath running down her neck to her bare shoulders and the tender touch of lips making their marks upon her flawless skin. As Nyx brushed his fingers through her golden tresses, another hand snaked behind her waist, feeling her soft curves under his rough fingertips, while pulling her body to press against his. Fingers knotted in his hair, Lunafreya too held him back, clutching him close until she could feel their hearts beat in unison against her breast.
“Nyx…” his name parted from her lips in the form of a breathless gasp—a song of bliss—as she felt his burning kisses dip towards her collarbone. For an impure man to grace the Oracle with such pleasure, it was an act of forbidden sin to the Gods-and she knew that well. But Lunafreya was willing to sacrifice her purity to the glaive, even if it meant defying the very deities she worshiped.
Cupping his face with her palms, the princess pulled his attention away from her neck. His stubble pricked, as she ran her thumb across his lips before drawing his face down to capture them with her very own. The kiss was soft and gentle, comforting in ways in which words would never be. As he kissed her, his world fell away. All those battles and cries of war seemed to cease from existence, and all Nyx felt was the same caress of peace whenever he was under her fingertips.
Pulling away, their eyes locked in a gaze that was familiar to the two of them. It was always written in their eyes, a spark of endearment, a story of love that was never dared to be told. A glaive and a princess; such was never meant to be. Yet fate never stopped their hearts from beating for each other. And here they were, locked in the arms of one another; body to body, skin to skin, heart to heart, without any intention of letting go.
“Thank you…” Lunafreya whispered, her soft voice sounding like that of a prayer.
What she was thanking Nyx for, he didn’t know. If more than anything, he was the one who should be thanking her. Nevertheless, entwining his fingers with her hand which rested upon his cheek, the glaive pulled them to his lips and placed a kiss on her fingers.
Headcanons for idw megatron who falls for a human (before he became an autobot).
IDW Megatron (before he became an Autobot)
-Is confused as heck. An organic??? How??? How did they even get to Cybertron?
-Eventually he just goes with it and pushes it to the back of his mind. Until he actually sees you out on the battlefield. You’re taking cover and barking directions into the air as you point in several different directions. The bot with you is heavily damaged and you’re doing everything to keep them alive while you await backup. He leaves you alone, wondering if the organic his spark is drawn to can preform under fire.
-You do. And he has to admit begrudgingly that you preformed… admirably.
-Eventually he loses sight of you as he gets further into the war. Then he sees you again. This time you appear older, more battle worn and by the most noninvasive scans he can preform he can tell you’ve got quite a few battle scars under the biosuit.
-This time he confronts you.
-You surprise him and stand your ground even as he strides towards you with his fusion canon primed and aimed directly at you. You refuse to back down in the face of certain death and Megatron admits he cannot figure out if it’s because you’re incredibly brave…or incredibly stupid.
-Turns out it’s a little bit of both as you tell him straight to his faceplate you do not fear him. He warns you he’s killed mechs for less. A sneer is what he receives before he’s dodging fire from incoming backup. Her can hear your voice taunting him as he moves for better cover.
-A blaze of glory is the best way to burn out.
-Now he’s really interested.
-There are more meetings. More banters. You even convince one of the mechs on base to configure heavy duty weapons into the biosuit you had to wear on the battlefield.
-Next encounter ended with Megatron having a smoking aft and you laughing your ass off as he watched you in amused shock. Soundwave doesn’t question it, Stascream knows not to. There is gossip.
-You start trying to meet him when you go out there. He’s wearing a knowing smirk that you just can’t stand (oh hush up who the flip do you think you’re foolin?) as you swagger up to him.
-It’s confusing, but the two of you somehow make it work. You relate it to a romantic tragedy from back on earth and relay it to the warmonger. He assures you gruffly he would not be as foolish as the male human.
-You try to take comfort in that as you two hang out in your nightly rendezvous point. Often it’s silent, other times it’s him complaining of the incompetence of his soldiers. You could be using these moments to steal information. He could as well. The both of you don’t because neither of you are willing to give up the cause you live for.
-No, you’re both content to live in the moment. When the war’s not happening and it’s just the two of you in the night in each others company.
A set of concept art images for various aspects of Call of Duty: Black Ops’ Shangri La, designed by Arnie Swekel at Raven Software.
It is amazing to see just how the artist thinks through these concepts, especially in the case of the concept-designs for Shangri La’s wonder weapon, now officially named the 31-79 JGb215.
Also, it seems that the final decision came down to either the 31-79 JGb215 model that we know and love, or this “Village Bell” concept. Amazing to think that one decision could’ve made such a difference in how we play Shangri La!
- images courtesy of Raven Software, and artist Arnie Swekel.
hoooo BOY you better buckle in because he is my favorite gotdam character and i have a lot of things to say about this boy
first off, let’s start out with a summary so ppl who don’t wanna read 4,000 words can still get something outta this:
soul is a bit of an anomaly with his characterization in the beginning being VASTLY different from his characterization in the end: overall, he’s gone through the most change out of any character in the series. starting off, he was highly insecure and defensive, which likely could be the result of growing up under scrutiny: i have every reason to believe soul’s upbringing was not colorful or happy, but rather harsh and rigid. this is reflected in his desperation to scramble for an identity in the beginning (i have some theories about that). his turning point is when he’s infected with the black blood and begins to have more and more conversations with the Little Ogre- which made a few observations about him: he’s insecure. unsure. nothing like his partner. as the series progresses, he begins to gain confidence and lose that desperation to fit into a certain box and really starts to come into his own. he gains confidence in his abilities to think and analyze, as well as his abilities to support others. this shows his truly kind-hearted nature: a cool dude wouldn’t be a total jackass, right?
now for the REAL party (after the readmore)
just a warning, there will be a lot of mentions of mental illness (especially when it comes to his self-image) and unhealthy family relationships. if i need to add anything else to the warnings, please let me know!
So I’m training for a physical exam to become a Game Warden. The requirements are:
1. 21 sit-ups in one minute.
2. 13 push-ups in one minute.
3. 1.5 mile run in no more than 21 minutes 36 seconds and a 300 meter run in no more than 109 seconds.
4. Handgun stability test: Involves dry fire of a duty weapon; five consecutive trigger pulls with each hand from a standing position while holding the barrel inside a 5 inch ring and five consecutive trigger pulls inside a 5 inch ring while holding the firearm in both hands from an unsupported kneeling position.
5. A swim test: Falling backwards into the water and remaining afloat for 1 minute, then swimming 100 meters without assistance or rest in no more than 5 minutes.
The sit-ups and pushups are easy, and currently my mile and a half is 16 minutes 40 seconds, but I’m doing more cardio each week to get up to a better number. I have yet to try out the swimming or handgun portion to see where I’m at, so I’ll definitely have to get on top of that.
It’s nice to see that my current training might pay off for a job :p The extra cardio has been taking away weight training days from my current training program (trying to hit each muscle group at least twice, and shoulders/arms three times per week), and my bulk has stalled to a maintenance since my calorie requirements have gone up from the cardio but I haven’t eaten more to make up for it.
I took FullMcInJosh’s bingo challenge and the only one to get a full bingo was Doom Guy, a character from the father of the FPS genre and had very little story and even less character building.
Some of these aren’t even that fair and don’t take any context into account. A game like TF2 is supposed to be cartoony and unrealistic so it would make sense that he has incredibly large biceps.
No patience for politics is an incredibly nebulous one as in many games, war IS the politics. A soldier fighting in a war that his superiors declared is no less ‘no patience for politics’ as a working class man dumping radioactive waste in the ground because his superiors wanted to pass over safety regulations is 'No patience for proper waste disposal’. Point is that a lot of the time the character doesn’t even have a say in the politics (like Heavy Weapons Guy) so I interpret it as the character deliberately choosing to fight even in the face of a peaceful option. Not surprisingly very few got that because in most games, there aren’t peaceful options. Not even in the cutscenes.
Only 2 characters were bald/had a crew cut. Heavy Weapons Guy and what I assumed to be a generic CoD soldier. That space more likely stemmed from what the person would think a male protagonist would look like rather than any decent sample of male protagonist. It’s even difficult to apply it to film and tv shows.
As it turns out, very few of them are anti-heros. The person who made this bingo clearly thought it would be a given since it takes the place of the free space but when it comes to video games, only 2 characters apply.
Arguably the most popular video game character ever, Mario, only takes up three spaces. Sonic takes 4, Kirby takes 2, and Link takes 6 assuming a fictional race can be “white”. superMeatBoy takes none.
All of those examples are from games that aren’t First Person Shooters. The more generic the FPS (Bioshock Infinite, Doom, Heavy Weapons Guy specifically), the more squares are likely to be taken up. That’s partly because most FPSes involve a soldier of some sort. They also don’t want the character crying over every kill and will likely give that character a set of armor. And the list goes on for practical reasons for why FPS games would use some of those tropes.
The point is, this is more an issue of game design than social justice. It has absolutely nothing to do with sexism and “hurr durr toxic masculinity!!!!” and everything to do with game companies being lazy and wanting to do the least amount of work but reap the maximum amount of profit. If game companies can move away from FPS games and not recycle the same gameplay mechanics in every genre of game, there won’t be so many examples of these tropes specifically being used over and over again.
Jonathan McIntosh has demonstrated once again that he doesn’t play video games and probably doesn’t even watch any Let’s Plays.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he caught sight of you trailing along a little ways behind Lestrade, “Are we babysitting now, Lestrade?”
Lestrade scowled, “No comments, Sherlock, just focus on the case,” he warned.
Sherlock ignored him, scrutinizing you with a practiced eye. “A writer or reporter, perhaps? Trying to get a fresh new story by trailing Lestrade?” he surmised, “Judging by your notebook and the ink staining your fingertips.”
You shook your head, offering a small, amused smile, “Sorry, Mr. Holmes, but you’re not quite correct. I’m shadowing Mr. Lestrade to learn, yes, but I was taking notes on how to deal with situations.”
“[f/n]’s a rookie police officer,” Lestrade supplied, a smirk tugging at his own lips.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow, trying to hide his surprise at being wrong. “You don’t have a sidearm,” he observed.
“I’m off-duty right now. No weapon,” you explained.
Sherlock frowned, his brow crinkling, “Seems unnecessary,” he sniffed, “They can’t do much but get in the way.”
“Well I’m dealing with a child,” Lestrade put his hands on his hips and you blinked, taken aback.
“I’m not a child,” you protested, confused and a little hurt by your superior’s comment.
“I meant Sherlock,” Lestrade informed, casting you a look and you fought the urge to laugh.
It’s full name is the Hawk MM-1 Portable Multi-Round Projectile Launcher. Normally these are 40mm, but this one is a 37mm, avoiding the Destructive Device classification. This means this is not considered a firearm and can be bought like any regular flare launcher, pending your own local states laws. Capacity of 12 rounds, it is based on an older design. The MM-1 is most famously remembered for its use in Terminator 2: Judgement Day, but it has more recently appeared in Call of Duty Black Ops 2. (GRH)
So, Halo has been a big part of my life and i’ve always adored the series and it’s lore, and i realized there are some parallels between Voltron and Halo?
both take place in space, both have to do with fighting alien bad guys, both have to do with wearing kick ass armor and having awesome futuristic weapons, so yeah.Here’s some things I thought of for this AU:
If anyone knows that this means, then please read. If you don’t, then please read.
I hate how I go to school and people find out my dads a cop. Yes, my dad’s a cop. My uncles a cop. My cousins a cop. And when you have so many family members that are officers you gain more family. No, not by blood. But by bravery, brotherhood, and hope.
Hope that your family member will walk out that door in uniform and come back in safe and unharmed. But wanna know something? You’re never safe. You’re family is never safe. As a kid I’ve not past prisoners and gang members threatening to rape and kill me just because my dad arrested them for murder… 3 different times. I would panic as a child when my dad didn’t come home at 11 and didn’t kiss me goodnight. I would ask myself, is he okay? Is he hurt? Is he coming home? Did a bad guy get him? Is he dead? I used to think as a kid that my dad being an officer was the best, ya know, because he was out there catching bad guys and being badass. But now people glare at me and they don’t want to date a cops daughter or be friends with her. Nobody understands how much officers risk their lives EVERY DAMN DAY for you. FOR YOU. And people give them shit for it. Because guess what, fucking Santa clause isn’t going to save your ass when you’re in trouble. It’s going to be an officer and they would die for you. Do you understand that? They would never see their wife or husband, kids, parents, family and friends ever again just for you. So when people glare at me because my dad’s a cop and they hate cops because they got in trouble for doing drugs, caught stealing, or whatever the fuck you did that was wrong.
Nobody understands how much of a relief it is when you hear the sound of boots walking through the house late at night it early in the morning, depending on the shift, and hearing the sound of Velcro of taking their vest off.
Nobody understand that they will speak to you on code and I could speak back to them like it’s our own language.
Nobody understands that my dad has to take his duty weapon with him everywhere because he’s so paranoid. That he had to sit somewhere near a window so he can see who’s coming in and out. That no matter how old I am, he can’t stand me being 5 feet away from him at the mall.
Then when my dad would come home with cuts and bruises and bumps id ask if he was okay. He’d tell me it was apart of his job, catching the bad guys.
At the end of the night, when my dad would come kiss me goodnight I would ask “did you catch any bad guys?” And he would tell me “yeah, I did it for you”