Hi all! I go by Byrd on here (they/he/she). I'm an amateur writer and plan on using this blog as where to put my writings along with other misc stuff 💕
I will write for most fandoms, though I do have favorites of mine. If you have any suggestions/questions/ideas, please feel free to ask and I can answer for you!
Current Favorite Fandoms:
Call of Duty
Cult of the Lamb
Hannibal
Amazing Digital Circus
I don't have many hard no's for what I won't write, so I'll list the few I have for now and will update in the future.
HARD NO'S:
Scat/Anything with excrement
Minor/Adult romance (Daddy/Mommy kink is fine, just no actual children)
Soap that sees Older!Fem!Reader reaching up to grab some storage totes out of the back of the Humvee and immediately steps in to help, both being raised as a Good Helpful Boy and because he sees an older lass and automatically tries his damndest to get with them. Only for said older lass to chuckle and heft the large totes easily in her arms, biceps bigger than Johnny's head. Maneuvering them to one arm, Reader ruffles Soap's hair and dismisses him with a "thank you, darling", and Soap has to spend the rest of his afternoon desperately fighting down a raging hard d on because of it.
The universe exists because we do. There are billions of humans on this Earth, we cannot possibly know every one of them or their lives and actions. How many times do you in your day to day find out about a niche hobby you didn't know existed or a group that has hundreds of members that's been going on for years? How many millions of tiny acts and conversations pass without being heard by your ears? Every action you see or every act of kindness is set up by a long line of people like you and I that you may never know ever exist, but they've touched our lives in ways that we can never separate from.
There is cruelty, and there is harm in the universe. But there is also goodness and laughter and light that happens every second of every day, because we exist. Be kind, because it only exists in this world if we choose for it to.
> Tail mostly missing from Roba. Rat!Reader will wrap their tail around the stump of Ghost's for socialization to help him feel less self conscious about it.
> Playing dead —> the Grave incident.
> Hisses at people, not even when threatened he just thinks it's funny and likes that it gives him a wide berth. Has been told to stop, will not.
> Almost entirely numb to whisker fatigue atp from wearing his mask so much.
> Will eat trash, doesn't like the idea of wasting food at all.
Gaz: Japanese Dwarf Flying Squirrel
> Great memory, used for intel.
> Very adaptable to his environments.
> Pretty privilege fr, uses his big beautiful eyes to get free drinks at the bar.
> Won't admit it but is extremely anxious about flying after his falls and feels a mix of relief/envy towards Soap and his wings.
> Extremely loyal.
Soap: Greylag Goose
> Loud ™
> Very family oriented, both with his blood relatives and his team members. Will fight tooth and nail for them.
> Also constantly snacking, especially loves his carbs.
> Great with tactical manveuvers, instinctively flocks the blind side in operations.
Price: European Badger
> Natural Leader.
> Protective of his group and responds to any threat head on.
> Old Man Whiskers.
> Will groom the others without warning, and enjoys when it is reciprocated. Always picking fluff or buys of debris off the crew.
+ Bonus Nikolai: Brown Long-Ear Bat
> Very fuzzy.
> Makes up for lack of speed with insane agility in the air.
> Honestly I really just love the idea of a big chunky Bat!Nik piloting the boys around after a mission, chatting easily over the roar of the wind and engine with his hearing.
I was in my first pregame for Frost vs Victoire talking to another baker about these carrot cake cinnamon rolls I was making, just friendly chat. After the game I typed that they turned out good, except other people started picking it up asking "chat what's the carrot cake lore??" and I panicked cause I suck at socializing so I stayed quiet hoping we'd just go to the next game but then the fucking PWHL OFFICAL ACCOUNT got involved also asking and people scouted me until I popped in and explained 😭 should clarify everyone was very nice I'm just painfully awkward lol
CW: Implied Homophobia, Church Guilt, Manipulation, Age Gap in Relationship
Idea: When Price is discharged and switches to working for the church, his need for control doesn't stay behind in his military years, it just switches focus
After finally being discharged from the military John Price switches to, of all things, clergy work. He tells people it's to help resolve him of the guilt, the blood permanently stained on his battle worn hands. In reality, it was the closest thing he could find that gave him that overwhelming feeling of control as being a Captain did. People put their lives, their whole livelihoods in John's hands, and the burn in his chest at that thought was nothing short of righteous in his eyes. They were his soldiers- flock, his to care for, to prune into perfection before himself and the Lord.
Some more than others.
John'd had his eye on him for a while. Young sweet, naive. He came from a fine enough family, always helping out in the community and at church functions. It wasn't John's fault his eyes wandered across the young man's strong shoulders as he helped haul in new pews, or stared a bit too long at soft pink lips as he sipped the blood of Christ. John was a guiding light to the people of his church, and he knew at this point his word was law. Still, he also knew he couldn't just take what he wanted right away. He just need to wait for the right moment. John was fine with that, he'd had decades of learning patience. As his luck would turn, it came in the form of another man in the crowd. John watched as the boy's eyes lingered on the man, just a hair too long to be another other than absolution in the bloody priest's eyes. After that, he poured weeks into watching the boy's every move in the church, witness to the growing turmoil in his eyes as they flit from man to man, finally landing on John himself one day during surmon. It was small, but a justification nonetheless.
Just what he was waiting for. John thought, demeanor calm despite the thrum in his veins he always felt before closing in on a target. Anticipation of the wolf, jaws aching to snap closed and taste coppery blood run over his teeth. Now, he just had to act.
It was a warmer day despite the snow still clinging to the earth, and the boy had shed his jacket in favor of a t-shirt as he helped at the market the church was holding. As he lifts his hand to brow to wipe the sweat beading at his temples, a sudden showed looming overhead has the young man turning his gaze upwards to familiar cerulean eyes.
"Oh, Father Price, hello." He says in a rush, flashing a beam of white teeth. The older man's gaze had always transfixed him, calm yet firm, a grounding presence in church. Father Price had been with them for a good few years now, and earned the admiration of everyone in town, the young man himself included.
John gave a small smile, crinkles forming for a split second that softened the veteran's face.
"Hello," he responds, hands clasped in front of him, back straight and tall "I was wondering if after this, you and I could speak in private?"
The young man's smile brightened and he nodded, standing quickly and brushing himself off.
"Of course Father, I'm just about finished anyways." The boy says. "Lead the way."
John bites back amusement at both his clear eagerness to help and lack of any trepidation. Always one to want to impress. He thinks, leading them along the cobble path winding it's way back towards the old chapel.
With everyone busy outside helping with the market, their footsteps are the only sounds bouncing off the walls, clicking towards the thick wooden doors that led the pair towards the nave.
As John walks steadfast past the pews towards the confessial booth, his younger companion speaks up.
"Father, may I ask what you wanted to talk about?" He questions as they step up to the small booth.
"Something that's been on my mind for a bit." John answers non-committally, stopping the boy before he can slip into the other side of the confessial. Without word, he pulls gently, shutting them both into one side and smiling at the quizzical expression on the other's face.
"I know it's a bit unorthodox, but, I felt this should be something we speak about face to face." John explains as he sits down, watching intently as the younger man kneels. His mouth salivates at the scene alone, but he keeps his nerve, not wanting to strike too soon.
"I've been noticing something of your behavior recently." He presses onward, and the boy's eyes turn up to meet John's.
"My behavior, Father? May I ask, have I done something wrong?"
John chooses his words carefully, measuring them against the outcome.
"This is about some... possible inclinations of yours." He decides.
"Inclinations?" The younger man repeats, brows furrowing. "Father, I'm sorry, but I'm not following."
"I'll be honest here," John continues, voice level and ever the concerned pastor "I've been watching you these last few weeks. I've noticed where your eyes travel, I've seen the way you've been acting. Is there anything you would like to confess?"
At that, he watches with satisfaction as realization dawns on the boy, and the eager confidence immediately crumbles under the weight of his secret being exposed.
"Father Price, I-" he starts, throat dry. Hot shame floods the younger man as he fumbles in the dimly lit box, searching for any way he could defend himself. Tears prick at the corner of squinted eyes and his fingers dig into the knees of his pants, head bowed.
"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't know what it was at first, I swear, I haven't done anything-"
John cuts him off after that.
No need to have the boy spiral too far out of control.
"I understand, as does our Father." He soothes, pulling his young companion back into a semblance of calm. "These things happen, I haven't brought you here for penence."
"No?" The young man questions, a crack in his warbed tone as he looks up, still stewing in the beginnings of self loathing but clearly wanting to be reassured he's not the damned creature he'd feared he was becoming.
Exactly where John needed him.
"Of course not." The priest cooed, a rough hand cupping the boy's cheek and a stilted smile on his lips. "I brought you here for... well, let me tell you a story."
"When I was in the military, before I was born again into the man I am now, I'd kept to myself. Even before the church I'd never had a partner, no one to call my own. I'd always told others it was because my work was my passion, but in reality, it was because I had an, infliction." John continues on, threading enough truth into his words without devling more information than necessary "Much like yourself, I found more comfort in my fellow soldiers, my fellow men, than I did women. I pushed it away, and when I started my priesthood, I thought of it as God's way of teaching me restraint. Helping keep my focus on the needs of others instead of my own."
The hand cupping the boy's cheek moves to his chin, tilting his face up to fully meets John's watchful gaze.
"Then, after so long alone, I found you." He explains softly.
"Just like me. Wanting to help others, stuck with the same infliction I'd found myself with. At first I'd dismissed it of course, thinking it was meerly another test from the good Lord, as I'm sure you had as well."
The meek nod from the young man brings the smile back to John's face.
"But after many nights of thinking and praying, I realized something: I was faced with not a challenge, but a blessing. I'd been thinking of this as a test, but when I saw the look in your eyes during my preaching yesterday-" he chuckles at the faint pink that rises to his companion's face at the call out "it came to me that it was nothing of the sort. Our God is firm, but he is loving as well. You're good, you help your fellow church-goers, you don't stray from the right path, why would he inflict such pain on you? Unless of course, it was never meant to be punishment, simply a, *different* path than the one your peers may follow." He finishes, a calloused thumb running softly along the young man's jaw, feeling it twitch under John's grasp as he thinks on what'd been told.
Light filtering through the cracks of the confessial light the older man's greying hair, his ocean eyes into something deeper than human, and the younger man's heart stutters peering at what he hopes is his salvation.
"So, you believe that... God wants us together?" The man finally asks, and it rewarded with a full-toothed grin from John.
"I always knew you were smart. What better way to reward such resilience than gifting his flock true love?" John reasons.
"But, wouldn't it still be a sin?" The boy questions then, and John fights not to let frustration show on his face. "After all, it's the act that the Lord condemns, not-"
"Typically, yes," John cuts him off, clearing his throat and switching tactics "but, do you think I'm a sinner? Would I lead one of our own astray? Do you question not only myself, but our Father, child?"
Discomfort grows in the young man, chastened.
"No Father, of course not. I'm sorry." He replies, embarrassed at the prospect of going against their community's leader. John nods, smiling once more.
"You are forgiven, I understand it's a hard thing to wrap your head around. That's why I'm here, is it not?" He says lightly. "It's my job to help guide you onto the correct path, to take the messages from our God and transform them into action for our church. We cannot know why God chooses the things that He does, all we can do is follow His guidance as best we're able."
The boy is quiet for a long beat, before finally nodding, relief making his shoulders sag as he looks back up at John.
"Right. Of course, Father." He says, and the thrum in John's veins turns to a roar in his ears.
"Nothing needs to come of this at the moment. We'll still need to inform your family, and even then, this will be done the right way, as God intended." He informs, taking the young man's hands into his own, squeezing softly in the feign of reassurance. No need to rush and scare the poor thing off.
"Right." The young man repeats, sounding more sure this time, and satisfaction curls warm in John's chest as a small smile graces the boy's lips. "Thank you, Father."
"John." The priest corrects gently. "No need for formalities, not in private at the very least."
"Yes, thank you, John." His boy says, and John rewards him by pulling him to sit up on the small bench next to the older man.
Yes, John thinks to himself, this will do quite well.
Idea: Reader gets sick of Ghost's bad habits and trains him out of them
Reader who gets into a relationship with Ghost, only to find out he isn't nessecarily "house-trained". A man whose pre-military life was tumultuous at best and never really calmed down after deployment, Ghost didn't see the point in things like weekly cleaning of sheets or not smoking indoors or (the breaking point to them) putting the damn toilet seat down. Instead of blowing up, reader goes for a walk, only to come home with their "solution": a clicker used for dog training. The plan was simple, any task completed would be met with a click and a kiss (or more, depending on).
They started small, only using it for things like Ghost taking out the trash or cleaning the dishes after meals. Ghost wasn't stupid, he knew what they were doing, but he went along in a mixture of amusement and a genuine part of himself wanting to change for their relationship's sake. After a few months it even started working!
Ghost not only throws his clothes in the wash, but now folds his and readers? Click and a peck on the cheek.
Ghost starts cooking dinner instead of grabbing takeout on the way home? Click and cuddling on the sofa.
Reader comes home one night late and finds not only dinner waiting but the apartment deep cleaned, resulting in the sloppiest head they've ever given. Ghost makes that a weekly goal of his from then on.
The two of them kept it up more for the joke of it all than actual need, finding it to be a harmless inside joke for the two of them.
It's not until Ghost is on a mission that the issue arrives.
He's staked out with Price, keeping watch while the Captain is perched with a sniper rifle. Movement flashes through Ghost's binoculars, and he gives the signal to fire. It then that he heard it: the soft click of the safety turned off as Price prepares to take the shot. Ghost had heard it countless dozens of times before, never been an issue. Until of course, that damned clicker Pavloved him. Ghost is rock hard in his jeans before it fully even registers in his fuzzy brain, and he spends the rest of his time desperately trying to hide it from his teammates (to little success. Soap clocks him instantly and they spend the whole heli ride roasting him).
Shooting a quick text to reader only results in them thinking it's the funniest thing they've ever heard, and Ghost mentally considers his life choices up until that moment.
Hi, I'm not dead! Life's been a bitch and this is probably ass, but I finally have a bit of writing inspiration back so enjoy 💕
Pairing: König x reader
CW: none, fluff
Idea: You're König's next door neighbor who cooks
If you asked König his favorite thing, it'd be good, plain and simple. He's not a hard man to please: if it smells and tastes good, he's down for pretty much anything. It'd gotten him at the receiving end of bullying in his youth, before he'd filled out the rest of his figure with muscle from military training. Even now, he could easily eat his way through an entire buffet with ease.
Enter you, the lonely little American who recently moved into the apartment across from the one he stayed in during leave. König had caught you moving the last of your boxes in a few months back. You seemed nice enough, shared smiles every time you both crossed paths even when König's own socially awkward tendencies usually tended towards a jerky nod and a quickening in his step. You didn't mind, even found it a little endearing watching a man twice your size and height fumble under something a simple as small talk. Words were hardly exchanged, though in the last few weeks you'd managed to get a "hello" and "how's your cat?" out of the older man, which you counted as a personal success.
It was late one night as König was settled in his living room reading when he heard it: the quietest rap on his door. Opening it revealed you, stood with a sheepish smile and arms loaded with Tupperware that had steam clinging to the lids.
"Hi, sorry to bother you," you start "but, well, I saw you were back yesterday. I know we don't talk much but I was testing out some recipes tonight and it's just me and it's way too much even if I freeze it—"
Your mouth clamps shut in a way that has König amused, and he watches as you stick your arms out. He raises a brow, voice a mixture of confusion and uncertainty.
"So... you wanted to, share?" König asks, and you perk up, shoulders relaxing as you aren't immediately brushed off.
"Absolutely. Being neighborly and such, ya know?" You laugh. "It's been half a year since I moved in, I figured it was long overdo. I know you work a lot, thought you might appreciate something homemade."
The idea was tempting to König. While he loved food, he was often too tired to cook during leave, and it lead to far too many takeout and delivery orders than he cared to admit. Plus, he couldn't deny that there had been multiple times he'd be by the window and catch a whiff from your kitchen, wishing he could work up the nerve to ask what you were making. After a brief hesitation, König stepped back, nodding to the kitchen.
"Come in, then."
Once the food gets laid out across König's kitchen island, the two of you dig in. Unease at having a stranger in his home melts surprisedly fast for the older man, part due to how good the food smelled and part due to the sheer friendly force emmenating from you. You chattered relentlessly, umphased (or maybe compelled) by the fact that König only chimed in with an occasional huff or hum to acknowledge that he was listening. It was... nice, to have someone's voice filling the deafening silence that usually followed him into his meals. It didn't hurt that this was the best thing he'd eaten in years, hands down. Soft bread and hearty stew warmed you both, and by the time you were idling next to König's door again, he found himself speaking up properly for the first time that night.
"If you're worried about over cooking, I'm willing to to more recipes for you." He blurts out, biting the inside of his cheek after.
"If you'd like, of course. No pressure."
Worries of being intrusive melt away as you smile up at him, eyes bright.
"Of course! Here, why don't you give me your number, and whenever you're home just shoot me a text?"
König, surprised at the offer, rattles off his personal number before he can think twice. You type is into your phone happily, and then you're off, the door across from his clicking shut. He stands in his own doorway for a few moments before scrambling to shut it, mentally at war with himself.
They were just being friendly. König chastises his racing pulse.
Stop making little fantasies when you've barely even spoken. They probably just felt sorry for you, stop getting your hopes-
A ping on his phone has König pulled out of his own mental spiral, looking down to see your name pop up.
IT WORKED!!! I couldn't take it anymore, so I made some food and brought it over to him, man loves to eat lol. God, he's so freaking hot, even got his number 🙌🤞🙏
...maybe it wasn't so one sided after all.
I'm not sure I'm the one that was supposed to recieve this, kleine. König texts back, biting back a snort as the previous message is quickly deleted and followed up.
Hi! So sorry about that, my friend stole my phone, hope you have a good night!
König can almost feel the mental panic, and it brings a smile to the older man's face.
On Saturday I said to my partner, as I have said for months, "A ten thousand dollar a year raise would solve so many of my problems."
As of this morning I was reluctantly looking for jobs because I love my job and don't want to leave it, but see: $10k raise problem solver.
As of noon today this was no longer an issue, because my boss called me with the news that I was getting a $10K merit raise.
I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. This is roughly $200 extra per paycheck. Enough to pay off debt faster, rebuild my savings, and spend a weekend a month in Milwaukee getting obscenely laid. The sex I'm going to have on $200 extra per paycheck. You can't even.
May all of you get the $10K raise your soul has yearned for. And whatever level of sex you can be satisfied with for $200.
unironically i think we need to bring back computer labs because APPARENTLY some people WERENT taught basic computer literacy and internet safety in school
things about computers/the internet i think kids should be formally taught in schools because theyre important to know and the amount of soon to be grown adults i know who know NOTHING about any of these is quite frankly almost all of them (and resources to learn if you dont know these things, because its never to late to get better with computers)
how to troubleshoot by yourself when you have a technical problem
what common file types are
some very basics on how to use ""developer tools"" on your computer (because i cant think of a better way to refer to them) like task manager and command prompt (and their mac equivalents, terminal and activity monitor ofc)
how to read and understand a privacy policy and what your personal data is, as well as what it being collected actually means and steps you can take to keep it private
how to understand terms of service
(hey. if you have trouble with reading legalese and worry about being able to understand these policies anyways, here's a site that gives basic summaries of privacy policies and ToS)
what a cookie actually is
internet privacy and your digital footprint!! seriously i dont know why we stopped teaching people that they shouldnt be putting their entire real identity online in a world where your online actions can ruin you irl
basic safety measures like antivirus software (and why you should use it or if the built in one on windows or mac is enough for you) and backing up your computer (also a mac guide)
common keyboard shortcuts (and on mac)
as an additional note: things i think everyone should know on computers and the internet but schools may bit hesitant to teach about for whatever moral/legal standards schools pretend to operate on
vpns and adblockers! (btw for most of these where you can pay for things im purposefully not recommending any specific software but seriously just use ublock origin for an adblocker)
how to not get a virus while pirating something
what a temporary email is and when to use one
red flags that you shouldn't trust a website (and how to quickly check the security of a site)
what javascript on a website does and how to disable it to get around paywalls
ok one last addition! if you want to take it one level higher, i think learning the very basics of at least one programming language is good for people. it makes computers less scary and it makes you feel very cool, and a lot of people get discouraged about it because it seems overly complicated and hard to learn outside a formal classroom setting, so heres some resources for learning the very basics of python (because i consider it the easiest language to learn and knowing one language will make it easier to learn others)
an online compiler so you dont need to download anything or worry about running code directly on your computer if that makes you nervous
a basic video guide to introduce you to python and walk you through beginner steps
a guide to some syntax and commands you should know (this was literally my lifeline in my first CS class)
some performance tasks to give you things to code to practice and assess yourself
Imagine reader being the child of one of the SAS higher ups, wanting so bad to join but not being allowed because their parent is too worried about them getting hurt. They decide to let reader "observe" the 141's base to indulge their wishes, aka: keeping a close eye on reader. Reader hates that they get treated like glass by the troops, no one wanting to get too close or upset them and get in trouble with their parent. They decide to watch the soldiers spar in the gym, watching one in particular— Ghost. They'd heard a bit about him, mostly stories that they weren't sure how exaggerated they were. Never one to back down from a challenge, reader goes up to him, trying their best to convince him to just one sparring sesh. To their surprise he actually agrees, and the two of them are set up in the ring later that night.
Ghost knows who they are, and that they've been tailing the others, asking a million questions and trying to play soldier. The way he saw it, he could kick their ass gently, take the reprimand (Ghost knew he was too valuable to kick off), and get this kid off their backs.
What he doesn't expect is for said kid to be good.
They're not 141 quality, far from it, but reader clearly knows how to fight. Fast and brutal, Ghost quickly goes from feigning hits to having to actually dodge a harsh kick to his ribs. Throwing reader around only for them to headbutt him straight to the nose. By the time Ghost slams them to the mat, each of them are aching and bleeding. Reader sits up with a wheeze, tears in their eyes, and Ghost waits for the wails of cheating and unfairness. Instead what he gets is reader grinning up at Ghost with bloodied teeth, standing on wobbly knees and clapping him on the shoulder.
"This fight never happened, yeah?" Reader says, knowing that their parent would go ballistic if they heard what happened. Ghost just nods, sporting a not-so-subtle limp from where reader had nearly kicked his knee backwards.
"Can't believe you fell down that cliff." He deadpans, and reader laughs.
"Right? Serval cliffs, would've died if you hadn't grabbed me." They agree with faux seriousness as the two of them start towards medical. Reader coughs, spitting something in their hand, one of their molars. They observe it for a moment before shrugging, dropping it into Ghost's hand and patting it with a smile.
"Something to remember me by." Reader jokes, turning the corner to the med bay. Ghost pauses for a moment, staring at the broken tooth in his hand.
... he really shouldn't find that as attractive as he does.
This is the type of shit kyles partner would wake him up at 3 am to tell him.
Sleepy as hell, he jerks awake when you shake his shoulders, barely registering the "kyle...baby I want garlic bread...." right before you pass tf out again.
Kyle, sweet, horribly in love kyle, cant let things lie. He WILL be getting you that garlic bread whether you remember your sleep-addled comment or not! Which is how you wake up near noon with the house smelling of garlic and spices, cheese and tomatoes. Entering the kitchen to find steaming slices of garlic bread with a delicious soup to enjoy it with. Kyle in the center of it all with a big smile, the only payment he wants is to see you enjoy the food.....and maybe a kiss on the cheek.
Top stealth for the 141, can get around near silently and fit into almost any space
Will tail lash you if you're irritating them and it will hurt, basically a built-in whip
LOVES to be up in everybody's space. If they're not connected at the hip with their teammates they assume they're dead. The rest of the team has come to accept this and it's pretty normal to find reader arm in arm with one of them or their tail looped around the other's ankle
Hates Ratatouille. Soap finds out. It's now on rotation for their monthly movie nights. On an unrelated note, Soap now has mysterious bite marks taken out of his field journals
