You Can And Should Throw Rocks At AI “Artists” Btw. Its Fun AND Free

Graves + Shadows Headcanons

Unsurprisingly, he's very protective of his Shadows. Yes, they're mercenaries and soldiers and very much capable of looking after themselves, but he will not tolerate it when clients treats his Shadows as expendable. They are his soldiers.

Graves has absolutely gone out of his way to get to know the Soldiers that work under him. He knows each and every one of them by name, a random fact about them and at least one of their interests.

Would and has killed for his Shadows at one point or another and would do it again. The same goes vice versa.

Movie night at least once a month in the rec room is compulsory.

Team bonding exercises/days out are also compulsory. They all need to get along one way or another if they're going to be relying on each out out in the field.

Has offered himself in exchange for the safe return of one of his soldiers who was captured during a mission.

Actually put an age restriction on becoming a Shadow. Being a mercenary isn’t easy and it’s very different to being a soldier in the army. All shadows are over 21 when hired, but even then most are over the age of 25.

Due to the nature of their roles, being injured enough to lose a limb isn’t as rare as Graves prefers. When this happens, he has always made sure the Shadow affected has access to the best medical care as well as prosthetics should they want it. If they decide to leave/retire from Shadow company after that, they are still given access to the best medical care money can buy funded out of Graves' own pocket.

Is surprisingly good at cutting hair! Some Shadows don't feel comfortable having a stranger cut their hair/see their faces underneath their masks if they wear one often. He learnt how to cut hair pretty well from his momma.

HUGE on his Soldiers going to therapy. Some missions are harder than others and especially stressful, it's important his Shadows have a place to vent.

Has several chefs with different specialities in the kitchen who are all able to create and cook nutritional and delicious meals that all cater to everyone’s eating preferences.

Many of the younger Shadows have called him dad at least once by accident. It’s a running gag at this point and Graves always laughs it off and then goes to his room to cry a lil bit.

Expanding on this, a lot of the Shadows view him as a parental/familial figure and Graves prides himself on that fact. He doesn’t see them as his own kids, considering some of them are older than he is, but he definitely considers all of them part of his family.

Further expanding on that, some of the older Shadows have called him 'son' on several occasions and he has caught himself almost calling them dad more than once.

One of his Shadows named their first born son after him. They brought little Phil to base when he was only a few weeks old and let Graves hold the kid and he 100% ugly cried and refused to give the baby back for a solid 2 hours.

Some of his Shadows have kids back at home. Graves has memorised all their names and birthdays and makes sure to send them a little something on their special days. The younger kids calls him Uncle Philly and he absolutely cried when he heard them go “Hi Uncle Philly!” across call once.

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Just a reminder for any bloggers that are unaware—

The following blogs are spam blogs, all pretending to be Palestinians needing help in Gaza. They are mass flooding tumblr inboxes with identical text + emojis in order to ask for $90k USD.

Even when you block these blogs, they will use a side blog to send you seemingly infinite anonymous asks, and THEN change the sending blog when you block that anon.

At least 2 of these blogs have been confirmed by @gazavetters to be spamming blogs.

Here is the list:

mosabsdr

abedmajeed, which is now both aboodfmly and derawi1994, and which is also known in tags and/or blogs as:

Abdelmajed (tag)

abedmajder (tag)

familygaza5 (blog)

derawigaza (blog)

derawifami (blog)

(All of the above under aboodfmly link to the exact same chuffed fundraiser.)

nasergz

sajagz

abd20001

nasr-daher

Note: mosabsdr has a note in gazavetters' official vetting Google Doc to warn others of the spam behavior, since they are violating rule 2 (do not spam supporters or non-supporters).

Most or all of these blogs have replies turned off, so it's virtually impossible to message them directly and ask them to stop sending asks.

Please block, delete asks, and do not engage with these blogs.

To block anonymous asks: you have to wait until you get one, unfortunately, but you can then hit the 3 dots on the top right and then block the specific anon that sent you that ask. It's not perfect, but it's better than nothing.

Stay safe out there, and please donate to help Palestinians at this World Food Programme link.

Hii chooms remember at the end credit scene especially in Goro takemura line when you kept him alive at the certain part of the game and did any other ending than the Devil ending?

His voice (audio) line is still the same 'Rot in hell' line except in the subtitles they are labeled as:

(So sorry for the low quality pic)

I recently played this in the latest update-

Is this glitch, bug, or wut?

Weight of the World

You look to the sky that look so ominous. Yet you are just standing unfazed of what is about to happen as if you couldn’t care the world.

Suddenly rain pour down on you….

  Your whole body is now cold yet you felt something on your face…

Tears..

Tears that are running down along your cheeks.

That is when you felt a heavy feeling in your chest, you couldn’t quite place it. Was it based on your emotions or something else.

But all you could do is let it all out.

You cried very loud because you can’t take it anymore. Is is it because of your parents, friends, classmates,  anyone who torment you or someone you love that you lost in your life? Or is it because of what you felt because life doesn’t go exactly like you it want to be…

Darkness crept upon you.

‘Why is it always like this’

And I will wait for you.

Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov | Caravaggio, Bacchus/The Lute Player/Saint Jerome Writing/Young Sick Bacchus (details)

My favorite part of Prospect (2018) is when Cee basically explains why we write fanfiction, and Ezra is being adorably supportive.

Everything will be alright…

my heart, luv the angsttt 🥹

Nothing Will Be the Same Again | Simon Ghost Riley x gn!reader

anonymous asked: hello, how are you?, could you make an imagine with simon and reader with the phrase """Stop looking at me like that." "Like what?" "Like I mean everything to you.""

summary: you're not ready for this moment, sitting with Ghost in a hospital room and sobbing your eyes out - you're not ready.

tws: death, blood

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Nervously, you chewed and pulled the flesh from your bottom lip as you did your best not to become distracted by everything around you; by the lifeless and dull room you were packed into, throat dry and the stench of hand sanitiser clogging your already blocked nose.

You couldn't believe that it was all happening, a stinging and pounding headache at the very front, body aching as the last few sobs were ripped from the back of your throat; snot so thick on your sleeve that you could feel its cool lick against your skin, nose burning and itching from being rubbed against the coarse material of your jacket far too many times.

You could hardly see anything, it was all blurry and white when the LED lights caught your eyes. You kept begging, kept pleading, asking the guy upstairs if he could just do you one favour and not take your beloved away from you.

"Not my baby, please," you would whisper, voice raw and hoarse as you shook your head, chest aching. "Please, anyone but my baby. Please, that's all I'm asking, just not him."

You knew there would be no answer, you weren't sure if you really wanted one anyway, but that still didn't stop you from begging and pleading; you needed to put the blame on someone, needed someone to scream at so at least you could make some sense of the cruel and unjust fate you were being subjected to.

The senseless and needless heartache that made your body tremble, bottom lip quivering every second, breaths ragged; you wondered if the doctors and nurses would barge in and demand to know who you were screaming at, but that thought soon faded when you wiped your eyes and saw the condition he was in.

Strapped up to dozens of monitors, drips feeding into his arms, tubes in his nose; his eyes weren't the same, cloudy and almost entirely a greyish blue, even the whites. He wasn't telling you army jokes that made you roll your eyes, refused to eat and drink.

You knew it wouldn't be long, but you didn't want him to leave.

His breathing was ragged and quick, panting more than anything, gasping and wheezing with every single breath that he took; he was in pain, wincing and seething even though he still tried to hide it. You could hardly bear to see him like that, collapsing into the navy blue chair beside him, holding on tightly to his hand as you sniffled and wiped your nose on the knee of your jeans instead.

"Don't go," you begged softly, bottom lip quivering yet again. "Please, Simon, don't go anywhere. I can't follow you if you do."

He was weak, and he was fading fast, you could see it in his clouded eyes, in the panicked and racing breaths, in the painful way that he coughed and spluttered; when he had the strength, he could talk but it took far too much out of him to say even just one word. You didn't wonder where the team were.

Gaz, Soap, Price. They had left hours ago, when the final cracks of sunlight were still streaming through the straight and unmoving curtains; they told you that you were there if you needed anything, but none of them wanted to hang around. They knew how much you and Ghost needed to be alone, they understood.

You whimpered, grasping his hand and holding on tightly as you sniffled and swallowed thickly; your throat was sticky, and it was nearly painful to so much as try and force the words out from the back of your throat. You had known Ghost for years, his only friend from childhood, his only partner in life. You were meant to be getting married soon, everything had already been planned.

Now, he was getting ready to leave you all alone; a life without Ghost. Home wouldn't exist anymore, just a sore and weeping wound; a gash where the bed was. A stab wound where the kitchen used to be and where you used to dance together; the same kitchen where he asked you to marry him.

Flowers wouldn't be as bright without him in your life. Love songs would only make you feel resentment and anger. You wouldn't be able to drink coffee without him making him every morning. You wouldn't be able to steal his hoodies and grin when he said that you looked so much better in them than he did. The smell of his aftershave and cologne wouldn't stick to the bedsheets.

"Simon, please," you growled, hot tears streaming down your face, snot dribbling from the tip of your nose as you gently shook his hand. "Simon. Don't... don't leave me all alone."

Ghost slowly shook his head, spluttering as he coughed and struggled to sit upright. "Stop it."

"What?"

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I mean everything to you," his voice was so hoarse, every syllable was barbed wire against the roof of his mouth and the soft flesh of his throat. The taste of blood heavily on his tongue as he let out a long and hard wheeze. "Let me go, sweetheart."

You shook your head, able to feel your stomach drop and all energy fade from your body as you whimpered; he sank down against the scratchy bed and pillows, and let out a few more splutters. He was so tired. "I can't let you go... what am I gonna do without you?"

You knew what he would say if he could; that you were smart, a lot smarter than he was, and you would figure it out with time. You knew he would try and ease your pain with words of reassurance, but as you watched the last breath leave his lips, the monitor going flat and starting to drone, you knew.

You knew, more than anything, that there would be no reassurance.

So....I did a thing

I just couldn't help myself. I might do versions for Makarov and Yuri in the future....

Original image:

Task force 141 found out about your soft spots

Summary: You’re one of the members in the taskforce, and you’re one of the more quiet, self-reserved and stoic soldiers among them. They didn’t mind since they respected your personal space, but at some point, they saw just a glimpse of your rather different, softer side. a/n: I’ve had this idea in mind for a long time and just wanted to get this out there, English is not my main language so I apologize for any mistakes along the way! This is also my first fic so feedbacks are appreciated :] Tags: incorrect military terms/training, fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic, x gn!reader, reader's text is in purple Part 2 is out! PLEASE DO NOT RESHARE MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION 

Captain John Price

You were on a mission with Price in another city, stalking and trailing the target, when suddenly the target decided to take a turn and entered a cafe. With the captain’s signal, both of you followed and took a spot in one of the corners in the warm, bustling cafe. It was a perfect atmosphere; the cafe was not necessarily noisy, but the number of people and music were busy enough for you and your captain to stay hidden and blend in well. You kept a keen eye on the target, noticing that he was in the queue and, so far, not presenting any signs of danger or threats. The captain gave your foot a nudge as he diverted your attention to the young waitress beside the table that you didn’t notice. "Hi! What would you like to order?" The waitress spoke in the local language that you didn't understand, but you knew she was most likely trying to take an order with the way she held a small notepad and a pen. You gave a small nod as you glanced at Captain for a moment, who was also reading the menu. You do the same, only frowning slightly as you couldn't read anything as well, and because you wanted to get this over with, you randomly pointed at one item to the waitress as she smiled and jotted down your order.

When the waitress walked away, you followed the captain’s gaze on the target; it seemed that he was still in line. You're slightly confused but relieved that the target remains in sight. Not long after, the drinks ordered previously arrived, but your eyes remained fixated on the sketchy figure. It wasn't until the Captain cleared his throat that you broke your gaze and stared down at the table. You froze slightly at the sight before you.

You watched a little wiggle action of the foam on top of what you assume is coffee before you. Except it's not the normal flat latte art kind of foam, but a huge bear foam with a cute face drawn with chocolate. You blink once, then twice before releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding.

This is so cute!! 

You thought to yourself internally as you felt yourself smiling, before realising the situation at hand as you snapped your head towards the captain, hoping he didn't see you, and to your relief, his eyes were still glued to the target. You take this opportunity to slowly take out your phone and take a quick picture of the drink before doing the same and observing the target again. As soon as you do, the target made its move and headed to the exit, which made the both of you follow promptly, seemed like he had a bag as well which was definitely not good news. You were a bit disappointed that you were not given the chance to try the cute drink, but you know you have a job to do, so you just hope that perhaps you can take a closer look again at the coffee later on your phone.

What you didn’t know was how the Captain noticed the change in your demeanour when you spotted the drink; he honestly wasn't expecting much from you, thinking you might just ignore it. But he saw from the corner of his eyes just how your eyes widen slightly, how they are shining when you realize what you ordered, and the way your cheeks had a shade of pink on it as you smile. He rarely gets to see you smile, and he found it endearing to think a cold soldier like you has a liking for cute things. He smiled internally as he noticed how you took the photo sneakily when you thought he wasn’t looking.

He made a mental note to bring you to a cafe he knows that have those famous latte art drinks after the mission, just to see you smile like that again.

John Soap McTavish

The military base has decided to bring in military working dogs to aid in the next mission, which involves scouting and detection for drug detection at the port, where secret drug trafficking from a certain group of terrorists has been reported.  

"Soap, you’re assigned to Max and Judy; you’ll have to talk to Sergeant Sam about the training," the Captain says as he walks through the compound. You noticed how Soap seemed to tense slightly as he clenched his jaw; you also noticed how his breath hitched as he stared at the two German shepherds standing on the sides of the dog handler; you knew he had a bad history with canines in general when you stumbled upon his journal once; and seeing how uncomfortable he was, you decided to step up for the job.

"Captain, can I do it instead?" The captain glanced back, his beard shifting as he thinks for a moment before nodding and giving you permission. Soap stared at you upon hearing your voice and gave you an apologetic yet grateful look as he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Aye thanks… Let me know if yae ever need something from meh in the future."

He watched as you gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder as you nodded. Unbeknownst to him, you actually own a German Shepherd yourself, and you’re very much a dog person, and you’re excited to start the training with the military dogs. He stood on the side as you approached the two dogs, nodding along to the instructions given by Sam. As you bent down and extended your hand out, the two dogs gave a few sniffs before finally warming up to you, with their tails wagging as they circle your body. He’s impressed with how friendly you seem with animals, and you were natural with the dogs.

After the training, he went around looking for you as he held a bottle of ice-cold mineral water, hoping that he could give it to you since you were training heavily under the hot, blazing sun. As he turned a corner, right behind the shed, he heard a few barks. He softened his steps as he leant in and took a peek behind the wall, and he was glad he did.

Who’s a good boy? Yes, you are! Yes, you are! Come here! Oooh, such a big boy are you? You did such a great job with me just now~ oh! No wait wait- aH-!

He watched with a grin as he took in the image before him. You, giggling and rolling on the floor as the dogs lick and nuzzle your face and neck, having fun and relaxing with the dogs. He would almost forget that they were military dogs, and yet, with you? They looked domestic. On top of that, he has never heard you laugh or speak like this before; sure, you were using a baby voice and all as you cooed the dog, but he didn’t care because you have the softest yet brightest giggle, a stark contrast to your usual stoic self. He left after watching you for a while, smiling as he walked away to let you have your moments with the doggies. Next time, he’ll definitely want to join you in the training if it means getting to see this side of you more often. 

Kyle Gaz Garrick 

You groan as you sit on the passenger side as Gaz drives the Jeep. It was almost 9.30 pm as you were both ordered to buy a few furniture pieces, tables, and chairs specifically as an emergency thanks to Soap breaking them when he was messing around earlier.

"Why can’t we buy it tomorrow?"

Gaz asks as he, too, frowns and crosses his arms as a yawn escapes his mouth.

"We have a meeting with the other members from London tomorrow, and we can’t make them sit on the floor now, can we?"

Captain replied with a sigh as he frowned; he too was tired and annoyed with the situation, but he has a point. Gaz has asked you for help since the furniture needs to be carried, and you followed along (not without silently complaining).

The day has been terrible for you, it seems like bad luck was looming around your shoulders in every moment. Just this morning, you stubbed your toe and you couldn’t find your left sock, then sprained your shoulder slightly during the sparring session with Ghost. Not only that, the sandwiches that you always order for dinner were out of stock, so overall, you’re not having the best day. But who can you blame? You just decided to suck it up as you nod and follow Gaz. 

After parking a spot in IKEA, both of you decided to split up to find the respective wood and parts of the tables and chairs that, thankfully, the details of them have been sent to you by the Captain, so that the process can be faster before the store closes for the night. You sigh as you place the last part of the table in the trolley, crossing off the last serial number and name. You walk towards the place that Gaz told you to meet up with before stopping when you walk past the kid's section.

There it is, in all its glory: Djungelskog and the other notable plushies in the corner. Truth be told, you actually own two Blåhaj (they're in your house) and a baby Blåhaj in the quarters. You’re a big fan of plushies, especially the ones from IKEA and Miniso. You just haven't saved up enough cash to bring the big brown bear home. You take a step, then another, inching closer to the tray, until you’re right in front of the bear. You glanced around to make sure no one is around before you gently pick up the bear, thankful that there weren't many people in the first place due to the late hour. Without a second thought, you gave in and squish your face into its tummy as you give a big sigh and hug it tightly, smiling to yourself as you feel the stress dissolving away. Something about burying yourself in the soft cushion of cotton is healing for you; it gives you a safe, warming feeling, and it reminds you of the comfort that you never got much of as a kid.

You gave it a few more squeezes before finally parting ways with the bear, softly nudging its nose a few times as you whispered softly:

I swear I’ll come and bring you home next time I come.

You smile and place the bear back in its original position, glancing at it one last time as you spot Gaz in the distance, then swiftly push the trolley towards him. Gaz pays for the parts, and both of you head to the car. You get ready in your seat and fasten the seatbelt before Gaz speaks up.

"Oh, I forgot something. Give me a sec"

You haven’t even had the chance to ask back as he bolted back into IKEA. What did he forget? All the parts have been bought, and the store is nearing its closing time as well, but whatever it is, you waited patiently.

Maybe it's because of the long day, but as you rested your head on the window, you dozed off while you were waiting and didn’t wake up until you heard the driver's side car door open.

"Sorry it took awhile, we’ll go back now"

You nod sleepily as you murmur. "What did you forget?"

"Oh, don't worry about it", Gaz replies as he presses the gas pedal and promptly drives back to the base. You didn’t question further; you figured he probably needed something himself.

You went straight to bed after dropping off the equipment for Soap and Ghost to handle, immediately passing out as you landed on the soft bed.

The next morning, you were getting ready for the day as you stretched, satisfied that at least the sleep last night was good enough. As you open the door, a soft material lands in your room with a soft “umph” sound, you immediately look down cautiously, and that's when you see it.

Djungelskog, with its head tilted to your side as its fluffy hand remains on its tummy, on your floor. You were confused, and frankly, you were not awake enough to fully comprehend what just happened. But once you connected the dots, you smiled to yourself as you lifted the bear up and hugged it.

You make sure to buy Gaz something next time as a thank you.

Simon Ghost Riley

The day was mundane; after a few gruelling missions, the task force had many reports to do. You’ve opted to do them in one of the empty meeting rooms; you liked doing work in these rooms more than facing the concrete wall of your own quarters. At least here, the table was wide and it was fairly quiet; sometimes Ghost will join you as he feels the same. You enjoy his presence because, unlike the rest of the group, he is one of the few people you like spending time with in silence. Today was no different.

The hours go by quickly with the room filled with nothing but paper shuffling and turning pages. You sigh as you place down your pen and give a big stretch, deciding to take a break as you stand and move towards the door. The big man himself also follows along; you don’t question it; you figured he might need a break too.

As you walked away from the room, you decided to go to the bathroom. You passed by the training hall as you overheard the Captain and Laswell talking over some topics for the upcoming mission, but something caught your attention.

"....My wife brought cheesecake; it's in the fridge…."

Your ears perked up to the sound of cake; you haven’t had any dessert recently, and you do like cheesecake. You make a mental note to take a trip to the mess hall after using the bathroom, hoping to have a slice yourself.

As you make your way to the fridge silently, you approach the kitchen and let out a soft sigh of relief when the place is empty. You slowly open the door of the fridge as you poke your head in and search for any sign of cake. You were about to give up when you couldn’t see any, but you jolted slightly when you felt a pat on your shoulder. You quickly turn around, only to be met by Ghost again, with a plate in his hand. As you look at the plate, which has a slice of cheesecake, your eyes blink with hope as you slowly glance back at him. He gives you a nod as he hands you the plate, and you nod back as well with a smile, happy and grateful that he saved you a slice. You take a seat at one of the stools and grab a fork as you eat the cheesecake happily. Ghost leaned against the counter opposite you as he makes himself a cup of coffee. He watched silently as your mood seems to improve. Earlier, he saw how you stopped in your tracks when you overheard the conversation, how your eyelashes fluttered, and how your steps grew lighter. He immediately went to the kitchen when you head to the bathroom and managed to pry one last slice of Soap before he finished them, hoping to save you a piece when you come by later. As you take the first few bites with your eyes closed, you give a hum of approval as your shoulders drop. It’s not like the cheesecake was extremely good, but you can tell from the texture that it was homemade. You miss baking yourself; the last time you did it was with a roommate before you joined the military. You missed those silly moments as you clumsily mixed the ingredients and argued with your friend to stop adding too much sugar into the batter, or the time your friend made fun of you for baking the hardest brownies that can break cement if thrown at them. You also tend to have favouritism towards home-cooked stuff, no matter who made it; you always liked how the food tends to taste just slightly better. Is it because of comfort? Or the memories that flood your mind when you take in the smell? You honestly don't know; maybe it's both. Or maybe you like the thoughts and love people put into the meals when they cook. You were so lost in thought that you didn't realise you were swinging your feet idly on the stool. The stool was slightly taller than the regular one, and your legs barely touched the floor.

Ghost finds the view a bit charming—to see you relax and content over a slice of cake. It's not that he is complaining; he just never really saw you this comfortable before. He observes you silently and takes note of how you like to munch on your right cheek more than the left, making it puffy. He chuckles to himself when you start swinging your legs too. He's glad that he managed to snatch the last piece of cake, and perhaps in the near future, he’ll bring you some cake to share with you.

•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················• a/n: that's all! Let me know what you think!! like a part two or something, have a nice day/night! :>