#And of course it's very Johnny coded as well

[mooseyspooky]

Godddddd i cannot stop. Just this in a loop for hours

[yukittywrites]

You'll Love it When I Give it To You

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warnings: dom reader and sub yuta, nipple piercings, nipple play, coming untouched, dry humping, some light degradation

word count: 2.2k Read the full story (6.28k) here!

a/n: did i forget tumblr existed? who knows? (the answer is definitely yes) anyways, thanks for being patient. reader is gender neutral, no mentions of your genitals/race/majorly identifying features. it is implied that you and 127 are very close/you're in 127 (read how you will) but it's not really plot necessary! reader in the original story is actually mark...so you're a little mark coded but im sure you're fine with that ;))

It was only natural. Yuta had always been in love with piercings and tattoos.

Of course he'd gotten tattoos once he was permitted to. A 127 chain around his bicep, a butterfly on his hip, and finallly, a feather on his pelvis, trailing low enough that no one who saw him decent would be able to see the full thing.

Then, he'd gotten piercings as well. His ears had been pierced for ages, but he'd gotten a bunch of new holes added throughout time, until he had a near absurd amount. The last one he got, a navel piercing.

The navel piercing was painful, but worth it, especially for the reactions he got for it, and it was only the next step in his gradual transformation to his emo/v-kei/rockstar aesthetic that he'd been steadily building over time.

Nipple Piercings

They were hot, easy to show off, the company didn't care about them and the fans would love them.

So he was quick to run to the tattoo and body piercing parlor and have them shove some black studs straight through his nipples.

And he had to keep them mostly untouched (aside from a shirt or a jacket rubbing against them) for ages, but finally, the sensitivity wore off.

That was when the torture began.

It was so easy to tease him about them, because his nipples were suddenly very sensitive where they had not been before, and the members were quick to use this to their advantage, tweaking them to get a rise out of him, humiliate him, knock him down a peg, make him do something—truthfully, they used them for so many things that Yuta wasn't even sure he could recall all of them.

But, of all people, the person who didn't bother him with nipple torment was you. And, by all account, you had the most reason to.

Yuta believed that you had just seen the amount of absolute hell that he'd endured (with hell being a rather dramatic term, he really didn't hate it) and you'd decided to take mercy on him.

But, as it seemed, you were simply waiting for the right time to strike.

Doyoung, his other main victim of teasing, was probably the only other person who had a justified reason to tweak his nipples so much, had definitely gotten his fair share already, and you definitely deserved it too, because Yuta just loved to tease you in a different way.

He lived for the rise he could get out of you with overly suggestive comments, revelling in how you would turn red and sputter whenever flirted with.

A suggestive comment here, a lip bite or wink there, a gesture that was far too dirty to be entirely innocent (like that one time he got white yogurt on his hand and made eye contact with you as he licked it all off his hand in the dirtiest way possible.), all of them would leave you a mess, choking on sputtered protests in mashed up Korean and your native language.

And all he'd do was smile brightly, then slip away to do nonsense, leaving you before you could even recover.

So, anyway. Yuta thought you were a benevolent saint who ignored what everyone else was doing.

Yuta was (unsurprisingly) wrong, and just like how it happened with Doyoung, he probably earned it.

Yuta starts it.

“Dude, that’s literally massive.” You say. You're referring to the size of the package that Johnny just walked past the doorway with, because the box really was huge.

But of course, Yuta couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tease you a little bit. “Yeah? I’m sure I could think of a lot of things that are massive, Y/n.”

It’s not his best work, but it gets the point across, and you flush beet red. Yuta snickers. 

This is your time. You blink at him for a second or two, and Yuta can see the gears turning in your head. It’s almost like you're buffering, and Yuta opens up his mouth to make another retort, but you seem to understand his idea at the same time because you move from the chair you're sitting on to climb on top of him.

And not in the same way that the others had done, no. You shove his chest into the back of the chair and settles your body on top of it in a way that is practically obscene. 

Yuta, for once, is speechless. His lips part in sheer shock, and you can't help but grin. “A lot of things, huh?” You question, your voice mantaining a teasing lilt, blended with something that Yuta’s never heard from you before.

“Yep. Why? Do you want to know what they might be?” Yuta replies, despite internally screaming, because YOU are sitting on his lap, pressing him into the chair, looking down at him, and he thinks he might lose his mind. 

“You’re so cocky, Yuta.” You say, your hands move from the arms of the chair.

“And what reason would I have not to be?”

“Hmm…” You fake contemplate, “This.” 

Then, your hands connect with Yuta’s nipples, both of them at once, and the sensation is different.

It’s not like how it was when everyone else touched him—this is closer to how it felt when he touched them himself, and his body spasms.

You seem to take this as the same sort of spasming that would occur whenever the others would touch him, so you do it again, and Yuta writhes, lips pressing into a thin line.

“Most people don’t react this way when someone does this.” You tell him, stating the obvious.

“Well, n-no shit!” He hisses. His voice is too pitchy to bite back his real reaction, and he stutters a little.

You laugh, evidently amused by the reaction that you're getting. When you rubs them again, Yuta releases some noise that’s in between a whine and a gasp, a little too suggestive to be purely a gasp of shock.

However, Mark’s favourite past time is to make suspicious noises, so they're not that uncommon, and so you must not even realise that Yuta is not joking.

You take your hand and pinch his fucking nipple through his shirt, and despite the buffer of fabric between the two of you, it is game over for Yuta because his back arches. One hand shoots out to grab at your waist for stability, and the noise that leaves his throat is clearly one of arousal.

You still instantly, and Yuta panics, because this is really fucking weird. You are touching his nipples and sitting on his lap, and Yuta is holding onto your waist, skin flushed. 

He gets ready to apologise—to say sorry because he’s really weird for getting off on this right now, especially when he was fine while everyone else touched him—but you shift your weight slightly.

Oh. Oh no. He’s hard. Like, rock hard. He hadn’t realised it because he was more focused on trying not to reveal to you what he was thinking, but now that you have moved, he can feel it.

And you can too.

Your lips curl up into a smile again, though Yuta can see something else swimming in your eyes. 

“Is that a lightstick in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” you question, leaning in (and down) to be a little bit closer to him.

Your hair covers his eyes when you do.

Yuta swallows, “Y-Y/n, I didn’t—uhm.” His Korean fails him for the first time in a while, and he closes his lips again.

“I thought they were sensitive, but I didn’t know they were sensitive like that.” You tease, and Yuta wonders if, for a moment, you've switched personalities, because usually he’s the one teasing you, and it’s never this intense either—

“Uh. They aren’t—well, they weren’t before. Not when the others touched them.” Yuta replies, and now you really smile.

“So you are happy to see me.”

Yuta doesn’t know how to reply, but again, he opens his mouth, and you rolls a nipple at the same time, and his brain short circuits.

“Oh.” He moans, his eyes slipping closed for a moment. When they peel back open, you're staring at him in fascination.

“You really like this.”

“I—” But you're right, because he does, and he likes you too. “Yeah. It’s the piercings. They make it so…it’s so sensitive.”

You hum, slipping your hand up under Yuta’s shirt, touching his waist where his belly button piercing is, then you pause and takes your hand out.

“Can I…” It’s hesitant, because if you pull off Yuta’s shirt, then you two have to acknowledge what’s happening. 

Yuta nods quickly, and you decide that is a talk for later, as you slide his shirt right off, pulling it off his body.

Yuta’s piercings catch in the light: the stone on his belly button, the metal barbells on his nipples, the chain dangling from them (which totally wasn’t so he could pull it later).

“I still can’t believe the company let you get these…” You whisper

“Don’t talk about the company right now." Yuta replies. "We all know what they think.”

“They’re so pretty too.” You say, thumbing at his left, and Yuta’s fingers twitch. 

“Thanks,” he replies, his eyes almost falling shut again.

Your fingers twitch towards a barbell, obviously wanting to touch it.

“You can—you can touch them; pull them.”

“Pull it? But, dude, doesn’t it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts, but it’s a good hurt.” 

You laugh, “Good hurt? I didn't know you were into that.”

You do grab the end of the piece between your fingernails, regardless, and pull it softly.

Yuta’s arm stops working, and it falls off your waist limply. “Mmmh~ Fuck.”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe we’re doing this.” You says, a little frantic. You pull again Yuta’s hips buck up. They brush against your inner thigh, and Yuta moans again. 

“You can pull harder—please. As hard as you want, Y-Y/n, it’ll feel good.” Yuta says, near desperate.

“Slut.” You whisper, and it jars Yuta, but the moment he processes it, he whimpers. 

You can't help but pull at his barbell fervently.

“Oh, god!” Yuta cries out, his head lolling back and his hips rolling against your thigh.

Your thighs are muscled and firm against his cock as he grinds against it, and you don't move it. 

“You like this? Grinding against my thigh and begging me to make you hurt?” You question.

You're a little baby dom, Yuta can tell—into being condescending and a little bit of pain but not quite secure in it—and somehow it’s still just as hot.

“Y-Yeah. So good, it’s so good. Fuck, Y/N!” Yuta moans, his tone pitching into something whiny and desperate.

You laugh, “I always thought you were a dom top, Yuta. It turns out that you really just want to feel good. You’ll beg for it, won’t you? You’d beg for me to make you feel that pain?”

“Yes, yes, I’d beg if you made me! Please, please. Do you want me to? I really want it—” 

“Aw, Yuta. I won’t make you beg for me.” You tease, pushing your thigh closer to Yuta’s cock for him to grind against even harder.

“Thank you!” Yuta gasps, his head lolling back again, as he takes advantage of your benevolence. 

You giggls, leaning close to him and pressing a kiss to his neck, trailing down to his chest. The position looks uncomfortable, pretzel-like, as you bend your head in a weird way to do so. Yuta would mention it if his brain wasn’t actively draining from his head.

You kiss his pec, then, in one fluid movement, suck a nipple into your mouth and suck.

“Nngh! Fuck, Y-Y/n~” He practically wails, his chest arching into your hold, begging for any pleasure, then spasming away, causing you to lose contact.

“Come on, Yuta. I thought you wanted it?” You sneer.

“I do! I do—”

“Then stop moving and take it.” You tell him before grabbing his waist and putting your lips back on Yuta’s nipples.

“Oh god.”

Yuta has never been more horny in life, pleasure bursting behind his eyelids as you tongue at his nipples and pull on his piercing with your teeth.

Your leg is digging into his crotch, and somehow, even that feels great. 

His hips spasm rapidly, and a garbled whine strains from his throat.

“I’m gonna—Y/n, I’ll cum—oh fuck!” He cries out.

You giggle against his nipple, and that’s it for him.

Stuttered mash ups of Japanese cries of him cumming spill from his lips as he cries out, ”Iku! Y/n, Y/n, iku~ I’m c-c—”

Yuta’s head falls back, and his eyes roll until only the whites are present. His body stills entirely, his mouth open in a silent moan. 

You let him bask in the feeling before pulling away.

“I can’t believe that we did that.” You whisper quietly.

Yuta laughs, breathless. “Yeah, me either. That was crazy, but I don’t think we’re done yet.” 

“Wh—oh!” You cry out, as you're spun around.

It's going to be a long night.

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Again: read the full story here!

[akai-akai]

okay so I've ranted about my "Simon Riley is a Dork" philosophy, now I bring you...

John MacTavish is a NERD.

I see how he's often pinned as the rambunctious "airhead" of the team, and that may be true to some to degree but he's not STUPID.

Listen, this man is a demolition expert. That involves all kinds of maths, measurements, electrical work, mechanics, technical shit I'm not well-versed in, etc. Demolitions experts have to be pretty damn smart to be considered experts.

I think Johnny was 100% a robotics kid growing up. Maybe even dabbled in coding and mathematics club. I seriously think he was one of the nerdy kids in highschool/secondary school.

And though that part of him is still very much there, it's quieter now. Shrouded by professionalism and experience and maturity. But then, sometimes when he's had a few too many drinks, or if Simon plucks just the right strings, he'll go on these long tangents about the different mathematics, or about this robot he built by hand in highschool by himself in his parents' garage-turned-robotics-lab— the garage lab that he accidentally set on fire and blew up a can of old hairspray his sister had left on his desk. (He totally wasn't using it as a blowtorch to kill some poor unsuspecting bug, his sister just left the spray there and he didn't notice it. That small burn scar on his left hand is completely unrelated.)

And of course, Simon will sit quietly and patiently, watching the way Johnny's eyes light up and his face gets more and more expressive, arms and hands moving wildly, animatedly. He's so passionate, it makes Simon's eyes soften with affection.

And when Johnny's especially focused on the blueprints in front of him during a mission, clock ticking and pressure weighing down on him, he's a sight to behold. Somehow, that's when he works best. Brows pinched, lips pressed in a tight line as his brain works over the details, pieces a plan together as he mutters under his breath, pen scratching on the paper, recites numbers for the other team members to remember. And then his brows smooth out and he gets this giddy look as things click together in his mind and his head snaps up and he gets to work— John knows to let him take the lead here, and quietly notes to himself that John MacTavish would make for a great Captain down the line.

Sometimes when he can't sleep or his mind's a little too loud, he'll sit up at the little desk in his barracks with the dim lamp illuminating a worn-out blue sketchbook, pencil eraser trapped between his teeth as he scans his old notes and sketches and unresolved equations. Mundane math and physics that doesn't take a lot of mental power, but still relaxes him nonetheless.

In addition, he'd be good at sketching. Specifically blueprints and modeling. Dimensional stuff and perspective. Finds a quiet corner somewhere on base— usually that old tree out by the dirt track— and sketches away models, some of which are totally unrealistic but he doesn't care. He'll sketch a giant sci-fi atomic canon model with realistic mathematics and semi-viable science behind it if he wants to.

When he needs to memorize a new model, he'll draw each individual piece, each little working part as if he's dissecting it and mapping it out in his brain. Sometimes when Simon flips through Johnny's sketchbooks, he'll find 10+ pages filled with the same model, over and over, and it's like he can see every thought process, every reasoning, every time Johnny clicks something together in his mind.

Johnny is brilliant. He's a scientist, an expert in his field. He's a total nerd and I love him for it.

(His average shower thoughts are either complex science that would give the average person a migraine, or Simon's eyes. No in between.)

NSFW:

This time, the tables are turned. Johnny will be mid-ride on top of Simon in bed, purposely distracting himself in his mind to hold off his own release (bc it's a competition and he'll be damned if he finishes first) and then suddenly he'll remember a bomb blueprint he was deconstructing the previous day and he'll plop down, sitting up stock straight as he curses and something makes a PING! sound in his brain and suddenly he's leaning over while Simon raises a questioning brow, hands still firmly gripping Johnny's hips as he snatches his notebook and pen from his table side drawer, flops the book unceremoniously on top of Simon's chest, hunches over, and begins writing and muttering to himself.

And Simon just waits, halfway between disgruntled and amused. Just sorta resorts to grinding his hips upward— to which Johnny firmly plants his hips downward, keeping them still, and Simon just sighs and waits some more.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Simon's in love with this idiot, don't let him fool you. I love them a healthy amount.

[dumbd3m0nzart]

A NEW KILLER IN TCSM AND LEAKED VOICE TRANSCRIPT?!!

SHE LOOKS SO CUTE!!! I CAN’T WAIT FOR HER TO RELEASE SO I CAN GO CRAZY!!!!!

💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵

Apparently her ability is made to lure victims into a state of false security until another one of the family members strikes? I wonder how well that could execute in game without it being so op?? Honestly seems like a very interesting concept from the voice transcripts she seems to be a big crybaby which honestly who doesn’t love crybaby murders? I’m definitely not gonna complain!

(Dolly’s Leaked Voice Transcripts)

/To make it easier to read I’ll color code her responses!/

Interacting with the family (Dolly Hart)

Dolly Sees Sissy

“(crying) I can’t do this, I can’t.”

“Awh sugar, what's with those tears? Ain’t you having fun?”

“(crying continues) No.”

“Nancy is really startin’ ta get on my nerves.”

“Pay no mind to the old woman Doll, she's just a bit upset that her boy is payin' more attention to you than he is her.”

“I’ll try.”

“I-I’m really not supposed to be talkin to ya.”

“Did Johnny tell ya that sugar? Don’t listen to him..I’m always here if ya wanna have girl-on-girl talk!”

“S-sounds like fun! But let’s keep this secret please.”

“Of course sugar, whatever ya say. (laughter)”

“(crying) It’s everywhere, they’re everywhere.”

“Come on Dolly, smile! I know you aint used to this but it gets easier over time I promise!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“(crying)”

“(fake crying) Is this makin ya feel better? (small laughter)”

“(crying elevates) NO!”

“You haven’t seen Johnny have ya?”

“Sweety with all due respect how do ya put up with the bastard?”

“Oh well, he’s real sweet to me when he wants ta be even when he gets mad I know he means well.”

“(laughter) Well good luck you sure got yer hands full.”

Dolly Sees Drayton/Cook

“Where are they, damnit.”

“Hey you! Doll or whatever go roun' back and check on those damn gates. Make sure they're nice an' secure understood?”

“Y-yes sir! I’ll g-get right on that!”

“(crying)”

“Quite that damn cryin’ before I give ya somethin’ ta cry about ya here girl?!”

“(crying) O-okay.”

“An' quit just noddin' at everything I tell ya dammit! Like some damn beaten ol' mutt, I swear there isn't any normal person roun' here. (annoyed grumbling)”

“Umm D-Drayton, not to be a bother but who’s this girl Johnny seems to be so fond of?"

“That damn girl is the soul reason we're in this mess! If that boy woulda jus' stop bringin' all of them girls to the property, we wouldn't be chasin' roun' stupid kids!”

"T-There are more of em?”

“Drayton you really gotta show me some of your recipes, yer cookins real good!"

“Quit tryna butter me up, and focus on actually gettin' the job done instead of havin' everyone finish it for ya!”

“Yes sir. (disappointed sigh)”

“Y’know that recipe ya showed me last time?”

"(annoyed sigh) Yes Dolly, I remember."

“Could ya show me again? I umm forgot what goes in the sauce.”

"Jus' ta stop yer yamerin' I’ll show ya again once we kill all these damn vermin okay?”

“Okay!”

Dolly Sees Johnny

“(crying)”

“I really do love it when you cry, Dollface. (laughter)”

“(slighty aggitated) Johnny who’s this girl everyon' sayin' yer so fond of?"

“Awh c’mon Doll, yer not jealous now are ya? You know yer always gonna be enough for me, Dollface.”

"R-really?!”

“(crying) Johnny, I wanna go back home."

"You think I wanna be here all day chasin' these vermin'?"

"(crying) N-no I jus-"

"(tuts and taunting) Awh, cmon' Dollface quit poutin' already an' help us out with that little act of yours.”

“(screams of distress) Help me! Get it off! Get it off!”

“What's the matter, Doll, can't handle a bit of blood? (laughter)”

"(hums "Look At Your Love" Sissy's song)"

“You ain't talking to that hippie now are ya darlin?"

“(stops humming and in panic) N-no! I would never!”

"(sadistic tone) You know I'll find out if you are."

“(small cries) Johnny, you love me, right? You promised you wouldn't leave me, right?"

“Nancy tellin' ya shit again? (annoyed sigh) Don't worry, Doll, I'll handle her. You just keep yer distance.”

"Okay."

“Johnny! C-can I stick with ya for a bit? I don’t w-wanna be alo-"

“(frustrated sigh) Dolly Baby, why don’t you go and smash some heads in, instead of hoverin' all over me like a damn dog and let me finally breathe!”

"(crying) I-I’m sorry."

“(crying) There’s so much blood."

“Bloody and a Crybaby, darlin' you really are for me! (laughter)”

"I-I am?”

“I can’t knock 'em down right with this no matter what, they just keep runnin'!

“What not likin' the mallet? Try smashin' harder, so that way you can get the job done much faster. Now isn't that an idea, sweet thing?"

"Ah! O-Okay I’ll make ya proud!”

"(laughter) I’m sure you will.”

Dolly Sees Nancy

"(crying then gasp of realization) Shit, not her."

“Of course yer crying. What else would you be doing? Yknow, I can't wait till my Johnny finally gets bored of ya."

“(sniffs) Johnny cares about me more than anything in the world I know he does, right?”

"Just like all the others, you ain't nothing special. (laughter)”

“Nancy.”

“Heard you and Johnny tusslin' trouble in paradise, Doll? (laughter)

"(verge of tears) Please not now."

"Oh girl, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. once he's done with you, I'll make sure to take care of you myself.”

"Johnny doesn't want me talkin' to ya leave me alone."

“Stilk fallin' for his act, huh? Johnny may like ya, but does he actually love ya? (laughter)”

“Nancy have you seen any of em kids around?"

“Of course, you’d let one get away! (frustrated grumbling) Well? Go get 'em I ain’t helpin' ya!”

Dolly Sees Nubbins/Hitchhiker

"Nubbins, do ya have any idea why Nancy is so I don't know mean all the time."

“I d-don't get why that old lady’s all mean t-to you! Y-yer pretty, and nice a-a-and she's just a m-mean o-ol hag that's what!”

“(sniffs) That’s real sweet of ya Nubsie.”

“(crying) Why can’t they just die."

“W-Why you al-always cryin' for? Don't you ever get a headache from all that w-whining?”

"(crying dies down) O-oh umm yeah b-but I’ve gotten used to it by now.”

"Sissy says I should use more accessories as a way to get Johnny to notice, but I'm not sure what?"

“I think a nice b-bone bracelet would l-look real nice on you! I c-can make you one if you want! (laughter)”

“(gasp) R-really?! I would love that, thank ya, Nubsie. I really do appreciate it. I can’t wait to see it!”

“(crying)"

“Yknow the o-only reason they pick on ya is because y-yer to nice gr-grow some b-backbone o-once in a-awhile!”

Dolly Sees Bubba

“Heya Care Bear!"

"(affection grunting)"

"Woah n-now! Don't get so close swingin' yer chainsaw aroun it could hurt someone.”

“(crying) I don’t think I can do this by myself, Bubs. I really don’t wanna hurt em.”

"(very concerned grunting)"

“Yer lookin' real s-scary with that blood all smeared."

"(very concerned grunting)

"Don’t worry I’ll help ya clean yer mask once this is all over.”

“Heya Bubs, how's the huntin' goin' for ya?"

"(happy/affection grunting)"

"(laughter) I'm glad yer havin' some fun."

“If I find one of em you’ll be the first to know!”

"(comforted grunting)"

Dolly Sees Hands

“Wow Johnny wasn’t kiddin' y-you really are an intimidatin man.”

“I heard a lot bout yer hunts with Johnny, ya mind teachin' me a thing or two? (nervous laughter)”

"Not much of a talker, huh?"

“(crying) I-I can’t do th-this alone."

"(silence)"

"(sniff) Ya min' given me a hand? (laughs lightly)”

"(small laughter)"

“Hands! Glad I caught ya when I did. You wanna try this new recipe I’m workin on for Johnny it's with h-hum- well meat."

"(grunts in affirmation)"

"I’ll t-take that as a yes”

“(screaming in terror) Oh! (laughs lighty) it's just you."

"(grunts in affirmation)"

"Ah, silent, but deadly I’ll have to learn from that.”

Match Start Intro

“H-how did they escape?! God, this needs to end quickly.”

“Of course, the cat plays with their food and the mice find a way to run wild. I really don’t wanna hurt em.”

“(crying) W-why couldn’t they have just stayed in the damned basement and die! Ya’ll kids better die this time.”

“Don’t worry Johnny I’ll make ya proud. I hope.”

Idle

“(crying) I never wanted to do this yknow but you gave me no choice I have to kill ya now!”

“Sissy was right it really does get easier the more I do this.”

“(laughter with tears) I really am a terrible person.”

“This is gettin' old! Come out already!”

“I can’t do anything right. (crying) Hell! I can’t even kill someone right!”

“What was it that Sissy said to me once? Laugh and smile and everything will get easier. (Manic Laughter) Yeah, no.”

“Go ahead, lil bunnies. The big bad wolf is gonna find ya soon enough.”

Feed Grandpa

“Don’t bite me, Don’t bite me, Don’t bite me!”

“Open wide, don’t choke now.”

“(crying) Please, let this work Johnny’s countin' on me…”

Find Hidden Victim

“(screams in excitement) I actually found one!”

“(crying) like a dog I’ll always fetch!”

“Run.”

“(crying) You're all real bad at hidin’ no wonder they always find ya.”

“You think yer hidin will do ya any good (laughter) then yall are dumber than you look!”

“(crying) Don’t hide without me! Make some room!”

Hit Enemy

“GRAH! Just stand still will ya!”

“(crying) Can’t ya see I’m tryin' to help! Just let me take away yer sufferin' already!”

“(crying) This is hurting me more than its hurtin ya.”

“Cry all ya want! (crying) It won’t change anythin!”

“(crying and laughter) Yall are making this way too easy. I feel real bad for ya.”

“Trust me, it's better if I’m the one who kills ya!”

Dolly See Blood Trail

“Looks fresh, your close ain’t ya.”

“(crying) You poor things I’m so sorry you havta suffer like this, I’ll help ya don’t worry”

“So much blood.”

“The more blood yall lose the easier it will be when he finds ya!”

“Well looky here a little red road!”

“(crying) This will be yalls demise.”

See Enemy First

“Run rabbit. (crying) Run!”

“Oh c'mon now, don’t just run off without me!”

“Just a few smacks to yer pretty lil skull will do the trick trust me!”

“(crying) I can see you.”

“I ain’t gonna bite ya! I promise.”

See Enemy Sub

“Johnny’s gonna be real pleased once I tell him how I found ya’ll!”

“It’s over. You better start runnin'. (crying) Right now!”

“Found ya!”

“(crying) Don’t even try runnin' it’s useless now.”

Encounter Start

“(crying and struggling) Let go of me!”

“(laughing with tears) well, looky here! Cmon, kill me! Yknow ya wanna!”

“Don't you dare, touch what's his!”

“Try me! I dare ya!”

“(crying) I just wanted y’all to die. Is that too much to ask?! Huh?!”

Exit Interaction

“AH! This could’ve ended badly. Good thing I caught it before any of em really did run off.”

“God this is frustratin’ just stay on dammit!”

“No wonder I didn’t hear no vroom an’ boom!”

Lose Enemy First

“Dammit, dammit, dammit! Johnny’s gonna be so mad!”

“No! This isn’t how it’s supposed to go!”

“Gah! (crying) The hunt just started, and I already messed up! Shit!”

“(crying) Johnny, trust me, this isn’t my fault.”

Lose Enemy Sub

“Run all ya want I’ll find ya! I hope.”

“Go ahead, run from fate!”

“(crying) No, please! Let this end! For the both of us.”

“(crying) Come back! Please I’m beggin' ya, please!”

Lose Enemy Long

“Yall were already dead the very moment you set foot on this place.”

“(crying) The more yall struggle the more painful this is gonna be!”

“I know yer here come on out! This is pointless. Please just go away.”

“I was like the rest of y'all once I too ran from death, but look at me now head over heels for him. I’d do anythin’ for my Johnny.”

See Family Member

“Keep yer eyes peeled they're here, somewhere”

“(crying) O-Oh! I didn’t see ya there. I’ll be quiet now.”

“I-I need yer help, please?”

See Trapped Victim

“Like a bug, disgusting.”

“(crying) That looks like it hurts! Here let me help!”

“I told ya, didn’t I? We’d find ya one way or the other, dead or alive.”

“Go ahead! Struggle, easier for me ta kill ya this way.”

“(crying) Please understand this is really for the best.”

“I-I need ya to stop movin yer makin' it harder to aim.”

See Victim Escape

“No, no, no, no, no! (cries and screams in frustration) What am I gonna do!? What am I gonna do?!”

“No wait! Please don't go! Please! Let me free you!”

“Bleed, bleed out, and die for all I care (crying) I tried helpin’ ya but yer too stubborn to care!”

“They got away, shit! (crying) I really am useless. What’s Johnny gonna do with me now if I can’t even finish the job! N-no, he wouldn’t do anything like that. Would he?”

“(crying) Johnny. I need Johnny!”

Use Ability Blocked

“They ain’t nearby yet. Gotta wait for the right time.”

“I don’t see anyone here.”

“Can’t deal with crowds. Gotta wait till they scatter.”

“No one is here to help.”

Use Ability

“Help! Help me! Please?!”

“No please don’t hurt me! Please someone help!”

“We gotta run! We gotta hide!”

“Y-yer not one of 'em are ya thank god! (crying)”

“(crying) Please, don’t leave me alone. I’m scared!”

“(crying) We’re not safe here! Please, we have to go!”

Use Ability Success

“I’ll take us somewhere safe! I promise.”

“(crying) I’m so glad you stayed. I was so scared, please don’t leave me.”

“(crying) I was stuck here for so long. I’m glad yer here to protect me.”

“You got so much blood on ya, I’ll clean ya right up once we're out of here!”

“We’re gonna be safe again, I just know it.”

Execution

“(crying) I’m sorry! You gave me no choice!”

“(crying) Blood, blood so much blood!”

“Why won’t you stop twitchin'!?”

“(crying) I'm sorry I'm sorry, I'm sorry!”

Isn't she so cool! I need to know more of her lore, honestly. Can't wait for them to talk about her next stream if they even do.

(I hope ya like my oc!!!)

[writeforfandoms]

The Hanging Tree

Find my CoD masterlist

You've known Johnny for years, and for a long time you thought all the codes and prep you two went through was just to assuage his paranoia. Until he sends you a code and you have to get out fast.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Warnings: Graphic violence, mild panic attack, minor character death, blood, gunshots, threats of violence, threats of death, spy shit, angst, whump, feral Soap. 

Word count: 5.1k

In all the years you'd known Johnny, you had gotten to know how he worked quite well. He was occasionally prone to over exaggerating, and sometimes was dramatic. But he had never been flippant about your safety. Never. 

Which was why, when you got a text from him that said simply "hanging tree", you stopped breathing.

And then you bolted for your room. 

For all his planning and paranoia, Johnny had never actually used any of your safety codes until now. 

You stuffed some clothes and necessities in a bag, grabbing the bundle of cash you kept hidden. For Johnny to have used this sign was… bad. Bad enough that you knew you couldn't use any of your credit cards or anything. 

Briefly, you cursed yourself for not taking him up on his offer of packing you a bug-out bag. 

But you were still out the door in under twenty minutes, locking up behind you and starting to walk. 

You and Johnny had gone over the route before, multiple times. A few times on foot, more often only verbally, until you could recite the way unaided. 

You treated your memory now, reciting the directions to keep yourself calm as you left your home behind. For all you knew, you would never see it again. 

A deep breath helped to calm you, a bit, and you took the first turn. 

It wasn't late, fortunately, so you passed people as you walked. You smiled and nodded to those you knew, but didn't linger. It was best to move quick, but not so fast as to attract attention. You could practically hear Johnny reminding you of that. 

You paid for a ticket in cash to your first stop, three towns over. From there, you'd go west a ways, then back north a bit. It was a roundabout route, but necessary. 

Just in case anyone was trying to follow you. 

The sun had set by the time you got onto the second bus, your breath fogging up the window ever so slightly as you leaned your temple against the cool glass. You almost felt like crying, or asking him if he was sure, or anything. 

But his instructions had been very clear. 

"If you ever get this signal from me, you leave. Immediately. Don't linger. You remember the route?"

You had rolled your eyes. "Of course I remember, Johnny. Do we need to go over it again?"

He'd laughed quietly, pressing an almost apologetic kiss to your forehead. "Nah, sorry, hen. I know you know. I just–"

"Fuss. You just fuss." But your smile was unmistakably fond as you gazed at him. 

"Dinnae fuss," he grumbled. "Anyway. You get that signal, don't contact me. Right? This is important."

"Get out as fast as possible, follow the route, watch my six, don't contact you," you reiterated, almost flippant. Almost. "I know, Johnny. Is there… is there a reason you're doing this now?"

"No," he assured you. "No, just makin' sure, I promise you." 

You had smiled then and let him distract you with kisses. 

You breathed out hard, blinking back tears. No. You didn't have time for that. Safety first, then crying. Maybe. 

The transition to the third bus was a long one - the busses didn't run as frequently this late. So you got to sit in the terminal and wait, backpack on your lap, playing on your phone (on airplane mode) to keep yourself busy. 

Fortunately, from the looks you chanced around, you didn't recognize anyone. It didn't look like you'd been followed. That was something of a relief. 

Finally, you boarded the last bus. Setting your backpack down on the floor in front of you, you stared down at your phone. The urge to text Johnny, to call him, to ask if he was alright and demand to know what was going on, was… it was hard. Your next inhale was a little shaky and you swallowed hard. 

And stuffed your phone back in your pocket. 

Johnny had been very clear, and the instructions were for your safety as well as his. 

You couldn't contact him. You just had to get to safety and wait. 

The last bus stopped, and you got off. It was the middle of the night now. The sky was clear and cold, stars twinkling down at you, the moon bright. You started walking, shivering a little, keeping a close eye on everything around you. 

But nobody else got off the bus, and nobody followed you. 

From here, it was a long walk to the cabin. Johnny insisted on that, said that a secluded place would be safer. In case he needed to patch himself up without nosey neighbors calling him in, or he needed to lay low. 

The end result was that you were walking for a lot longer than you really wanted to. The chill wore off after a while, at least. 

Nearly-numb fingers fumbled the cabin key out of your backpack, and you unlocked the door, flipping the lights on. The cabin was cozy, not large but well furnished, and always stocked with non-perishables. The door shut behind you with a soft click, and you locked it. 

There was only one bedroom, and you claimed it as yours. Since Johnny had sent you all the way out here, he could take the couch if he got in while you were sleeping. You left your backpack next to the bed, stripped down enough to be comfortable, and collapsed. 

The room was bright when you woke, and you groaned. For a moment you thought about pulling the pillow over your head and going back to sleep, but no. You needed to get up. 

Groaning again, you dressed in clean clothes from your backpack and padded into the kitchen on bare feet. No sign of Johnny yet. No anybody at all, actually. 

Sighing, you went through your options for breakfast, and settled on a protein bar. Not exciting, but it would do. At least he had tea here. 

The day passed achingly slowly. Johnny had left plenty of books and board games in the cabin, even a TV and DVD player. But nothing held your attention for long, not with the low-level anxiety as your constant companion. You barely even felt hungry, picking through the available food with a choosiness entirely unlike you. 

Not even a hot shower helped to quell the anxiety. Every minute without an update felt like an eternity stuck in purgatory. 

The second day dragged just as slowly as the first. You left the TV on all day, playing movies without paying attention to them, just for the background noise. Just to have something outside your own head. 

Because the possibilities running non-stop through your mind were terrifying, now. 

You forced yourself to eat and keep hydrated. You cleaned. (You'd helped choose the cleaning products, you remembered a playful argument with Johnny over rags of all things, remembered whapping him in the chest with your chosen towel, remembered shrieking laughter as he chased you outside and tackled you down into the grass–) 

One book caught your eye. One you'd thought you had lost years ago. Johnny had sworn up and down that he had no idea where it was. 

Fucking liar. Your laugh cracked into a sob, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, suddenly terrified of making too much noise. But the tears didn't stop for a long time. 

The third day felt a little… listless. Surely Johnny should have come by now, or sent one of his friends? Surely it wouldn't be so bad to turn your phone back on and check for any messages? 

A knock on the door a couple hours before sunset startled you so badly you knocked over your water. You swore softly, gaze darting to the door. 

Someone called your name from the other side of the door. Not Johnny. Someone with an English accent, smoother than you would have guessed of one of his teammates. 

"Soap sent me," he called through the door. "I'm going to take you to him." 

You dropped a towel silently on the spilled water, aching to open the door. But you didn't know any of his teammates, not really, and you couldn't confirm one way or the other. You needed something more. 

"Ah, he said he'd get you ice cream?" The man sounded confused now, but still pleasant. 

And you relaxed. That was the all clear. You practically bounded to the front door, yanking it open. 

"Finally," you breathed, looking him over. Dark, nondescript clothes, dark hair, dark eyes. "Is he here?"

"Close," he answered, a little evasively. "I'm taking you to him." 

"Let me just grab my–"

"Leave it." 

You jerked a little, startled at his tone. He smiled apologetically. 

"You'll be back here soon. Might as well leave it. We need to go now." 

You hesitated. Something didn't feel right. But you'd been anxious for days - maybe that was still throwing you off? Or the lack of good sleep? He'd given you the all clear, it should be fine… 

"Okay," you agreed softly, grabbing your shoes and shoving them on. The cabin door closed behind you and you started towards the car parked in front. Black sedan, tinted windows. "How far are we going?"

"Oh, not far at all." Something jabbed into your neck and you shrieked, trying to tear away. But he anticipated that, one arm winding tight around you as the needle left your skin. "You'll sleep right through it." 

The world started to tip under you, at once too bright and blurring together. Your limbs felt thick and clumsy, uncoordinated. 

The last thing you felt was leather under your cheek. 

Throbbing in your temples woke you, insistent and annoying. You groaned softly, squeezing your eyes shut before opening them carefully. The sudden flood of light made you close them tight again with a whimper, pain radiating all the way to the base of your skull. 

Trying to lift your arm to block the glare didn't work, and you panicked then, a little. You couldn't move either hand, or your legs. When you tried, something rough rubbed against your skin, quickly rubbing you raw. Your breathing sped up in your panic and you carefully opened your eyes, head tilted down to try to minimize the light. 

You didn't recognize anything. You were tied to a chair, the rope tight enough to prevent you from moving much, but you could at least still feel all your fingers and toes. Quick looks around showed nothing but a bare wooden room with a spotlight set up directly across from you. The light was so bright it hurt your eyes, and you gave up trying to see anything directly around it. 

You had no idea where you were. You were tied up snugly enough that you couldn't escape. And you were alone. 

This time, there was nothing you could do to stop the panicked tears. Despite knowing it wouldn't help, you couldn't stop yourself from jerking at the ropes, trying desperately to find some weakness. 

The click of a door opening may as well have been as loud as a gunshot. You stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped everything. Footsteps approached you, smooth and even. 

"Ah, you're finally awake. Just in time." 

It was the man from the cabin, the one who'd given you the all clear. You sucked in a gasping breath, trying to form words. 

"Best not. You're only here as incentive. I only need you alive, not unharmed." 

You swallowed hard at that, at how casually he threatened you. Your mouth closed without a word. 

"Good. Now, you just sit there and look alive." He chuckled a little at his own joke, stepping past you to fiddle with something just underneath the light. You couldn't see what it was - between the headache still incapacitating you and the man's bulk, you were useless. 

You nearly started crying again but swallowed it back with enormous effort. You needed to be quiet. You needed to not give this man a reason to hurt you further. Johnny would figure this out, you had no doubt that he'd find you. 

You needed to be alive for him to find. 

The man moved behind the light again, and you winced at the brightness. 

"Mr. MacTavish." His voice was lower now, drawling, insulting. "You have been making yourself quite a pest these last weeks, haven't you? You know more than you should. But you're not the only one." 

Your eyes had finally adjusted enough to the light to see the little red light underneath. He was recording this. He was making a video to send to Johnny. You swallowed again, gripping the chair tight to hide your trembling. 

"By now I'm sure you've noticed something is missing. Well, here she is. Still alive, as you can see. At least for now." 

The click of the revolver was loud in the otherwise-silent room, and you squeezed your eyes shut. He was going to kill you. He was going to kill you and send the video to Johnny. Johnny would never survive that, he'd never get over it, this would destroy him– 

"She is still alive by my grace, Mr. MacTavish." Something cool brushed the skin of your temple, making you flinch hard. But the gun didn't retreat, just shifted down to just under your ear at the hinge of your jaw. "Now, I propose a trade. If you cease your actions immediately, I will let her live. If, however, you continue on your current course…" The gun left your skin but a moment later there was a loud bang. You screamed, ducking your head down, unable to help yourself. Your ears rang with the shot, unbelievably loud in the enclosed space. 

"Well, I think you get the picture. Decide quickly, Mr. MacTavish." 

The man took a step away from you and you looked straight at the camera, eyes wide, heedless of the tears streaking down your cheeks. 

"Johnny, don't–" 

The pistol whipped across your temple. For a moment, you didn't feel anything. Then pain blindsided you, warm wetness flowing from your temple freely to mix with your tears. You choked on a gasp. 

"Tick tock." The man sounded completely unbothered, steps just as smooth as ever. He must have turned off the video, because you heard rustling sounds, and a moment later he spoke again. "That was quite foolish of you. Let's hope, for your sake, that you remain quiet now. Or my patience may wear out." He walked across the room without turning off the light or unbinding you. 

The click-shink of the door closing and locking sounded terribly final to you. 

–

Soap felt like he was losing his mind. He'd sent the code to you three and a half days ago. It had taken a while for him to get to his selected agent to exfil you, making sure he knew the protocols you two had in place. 

But the soldier had reported back that you were gone. The cabin had clearly been inhabited, your backpack was still in the bedroom. 

But you were gone. 

Soap knew you, knew you wouldn't take off without your things and without reason. Especially not since he'd been drilling the importance of your safety into you for years. 

Something had happened. Someone had gotten to you first. Based on the lack of blood or visible signs of struggle, someone had gotten to you and given you the code. 

This had been an inside job. Someone had known all of his contingencies and gotten to you. That narrowed the pool considerably. 

But still not enough. 

"Soap."

There had to be more he could do. He needed to be searching for you, he needed to make sure you were safe, he needed to–

"Johnny!" 

He blinked when Ghost grabbed his shoulders, physically forcing him to stop. Soap took a deep breath, feeling like it was the first he'd taken in hours.

"Calm down. You're no good if you're panicking." 

Soap snarled, pulling away from Ghost. "I need ta get ta her! She cannae get hurt, no' fer me." 

"We will find her," Ghost said, crossing his arms over his chest, immovable. "And when we do, you need to be sharp." 

"Ah am!" 

"You've gone full Scot." 

Soap swore, and then swore again because Ghost was right. Not that he had a chance to admit it. 

His phone pinged. For a moment, neither man moved. Then Soap pulled it out, eyes going wide. 

There was a video message from you. 

He hit play immediately, going cold as he watched. Your scream sent his heart all the way down to his feet. His hands were shaking. 

He knew exactly who had you. Who, but not how or where. 

His phone was plucked out of his unresisting hands and Ghost was saying… something. Soap couldn't hear past the roaring in his ears. 

You were supposed to be safe. You were supposed to be away from all the shit in his life, safe from the darkness and the filth. 

And now this one man held your life in his hands. 

"--p. Soap. C'mon." Ghost pushed him a little, and as the rage and panic receded enough for him to feel more or less cognizant, Soap realized he was being herded to Price's office. 

"Soap, Ghost." Price looked between the two, eyes narrowed. 

"Captain." Ghost held out the phone without another word. Soap didn't watch, couldn't watch from where he stood, feet too heavy to move on his own. 

But the sound of your scream… that would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

"Fuckin' hell." Price leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "When was this sent?"

"Just a few minutes ago." 

Price nodded, setting the phone down very gently. "I'll see if we can get any location data from the message." 

"And the rest of it, sir?" Ghost didn't move, didn't even shift his weight. But the tension in the room was undeniable. 

Price breathed out slowly. "He's targeting Soap," he murmured with an apologetic glance at the Scot. "Means he doesn't know the rest of the 141. Everything was addressed just to Soap. For now, we'll back off to recon only." 

"Copy that." Ghost did finally glance at Soap. "And her?"

Price was silent for several moments. "We have to assume she's alive." 

Something in his chest loosened with his captain's confidence. Price assumed she was alive, so Soap would too. Just because she'd been bloodied didn't mean she was dead. 

But it did mean that the arsewipe who thought he could hurt you would pay dearly for every drop of blood he spilled. 

It took far longer than Soap was comfortable with for Intel to find you. (Any time was too long, any time spent with that rat bastard was unacceptable, the sound of your scream echoing in his head on repeat, your blood-stained skin etched behind his eyes.) 

But they did find you. Price organized the raid. The best and worst thing? He hadn't taken you far. A couple hours from the cabin. Not far at all, in the grand scheme of things. 

Price led, with Ghost finding a good sniper spot around the back. Gaz and Soap followed Price in. The goal was to do this as quick and quiet as possible. 

The building had once been a home, but had been renovated and added on to before being abandoned. There had been no up to date plans of the interior that Intel could get their hands on. 

All they had to go off of was the video. That damned video. 

Two sentries outside. Price dispatched one, Gaz the other. Soap hung back, watching through the one uncovered window. 

No movement inside that he could see. 

The snake cam showed one more guard inside, back to the front door, focus on something further in. 

"Gaz." Price kept his voice low, almost too low to hear, but Gaz knew. He nodded, testing the door. It swung open slowly with the faintest of creaks. 

"Don't even with me, George," the guard started without turning. "Your break–" 

Price slit his throat, silencing him. The body slumped to the ground. 

Gaz went first, creeping slowly further into the house. A woman sat in a room further in, typing away on a laptop and speaking quietly into a phone. 

"...the Cayman account. Yes I'm sure. I don't pay you for your opinion, just get the money moved. Now." She hung up with a short sigh and then stood. "Ray? I need the car, Mr. Hammond will be late to his next appointment." 

Gaz moved silently behind the woman, clamping one hand over her mouth and his other arm firm around her middle. Soap pounced after her, quickly restraining her arms. Gaz dragged her outside at Price's nod. 

Price and Soap continued on, moving silently through the building. The rest of the building was clear. 

Except for one last door, in the middle of the house. Soap pressed himself to the wall on one side, Price on the other, both listening hard. 

"You see, I'll be leaving momentarily." Hammond spoke calmly, as if this was nothing more than a meeting. "I can leave you here to the tender mercy of two of my men, or I can shoot you now." 

Your muffled whimper sent Soap's blood boiling, rage tightening his muscles. 

"Don't look at me like that, it won't help you." Hammond was quiet for a few moments longer. "Well. I suppose I'll let you live for now." Footsteps approached the door, and it pulled open into the room. 

Soap lunged, tackling Hammond around the middle into the room. The first punch hit Hammond right in the eye. Soap didn’t even feel the impact against his knuckles. He didn't realize he was cursing, either. He just punched Hammond, again and again. 

Until a hand caught his, hauling him back. Soap turned, lips curled back in a snarl. 

"Easy, Soap," Price barked. "That's an order." He shoved the sergeant more or less gently in your direction. 

Price must have cut you loose, because your hands were over your mouth, wrists rubbed raw and oozing. Blood still stained your skin from the injury Hammond had given you. 

You were also the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Darlin'." Soap lurched forward, dropping to his knees in front of you, hands hovering an inch away from your face. Shame washed through him, hot and bitter. You were here because of him, you'd been hurt because of him. How could you ever forgive him, ever want to see him again? 

Except you hiccuped a tiny sob and your hands covered his, pressing them to your cheeks. You leaned into his touch, heavy and desperate as you started crying again. "Johnny," you whimpered, hands convulsing around his. 

That was all the convincing he needed. Soap pulled you in slow and careful until you could hide against his shoulder, one hand carefully shielding your wounded temple, the other rubbing across your back. 

"Yer alrigh', darlin'," he crooned. "I got ye. My sweet bonnie, my darlin' lass, I got ye." 

–

You had no idea how long you sat and cried against Johnny's shoulder. Long enough that you ran out of tears. Long enough that your breathing evened out. 

But you still flinched when someone else cleared their throat nearby. 

"Jus' my Captain," Johnny murmured to you, his hand never ceasing its soothing rubbing along your back. 

"We need to go." The Captain's voice was low and rough. You risked a careful peek over Johnny's shoulder and the Captain gave you a tiny smile, standing guard at the door. 

"Can ye walk?" 

You blinked a few times and then nodded carefully. "Slowly," you agreed. 

"Alrigh'." Johnny stood and helped you to your feet, holding you steady. Hammond was gone, something that you noted absently and were eternally grateful for. 

"Gaz and Ghost are in one car," the Captain told you both (mostly Johnny). "We'll take the other."

"Rog." Johnny kept one arm around you, helping to support you out. You tried not to look at the blood splatters on the floor and ground. 

Rather to your surprise, the Captain opened the door to the backseat for you, and Johnny helped you in before quickly scooting in next to you. 

"We'll head back to base," the Captain said as he started the car. Ahead of you, you could see the other car leading the way. "We'll need to take your statement." It wasn't until his eyes met yours in the rear view mirror that you realized he was speaking to you. 

"Okay," you agreed quietly, though the thought of having to relive the last few days sent your pulse racing. 

The drive was silent. Johnny refused to let go of you entirely, holding your hand and rubbing your knee, both relatively uninjured areas. 

You shuddered to think how you'd feel tomorrow. 

You had no idea how long the ride was. Long enough that you were nodding off against Johnny's shoulder, only to wake going over a bump. 

"Easy," Johnny murmured in your ear. "We're almost there. Then we'll get you patched up." 

You nodded, squeezing his hand. You just wanted to go home and sleep for a week and forget any of this had ever happened. 

The transition from the car to medical was… a lot. There were a lot of people and a lot of talking over your head. But Johnny refused to let go of you the entire time, staying glued to your side. 

But you still could never remember how exactly you got to medical, sitting on a cot while someone cleaned blood off your face, Johnny sitting pressed up against your side. 

"We should do this now, before you forget anything." Price lowered himself into a chair in front of you, out of the way of the nurse cleaning you up. You realized with a little start that your wrists had already been bandaged, and when you tried to lift a hand to check your forehead Johnny caught you. 

"Best not, darlin'," he murmured, low and concerned. "It's taken care of." 

You pulled in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before you nodded. Your hand fell limp unto your lap. "Okay." 

Price nodded, setting down something on his knee and motioning for you to proceed. 

You started slowly, stumbling a little. How you got the text and packed up a backpack. How you followed protocol, doing everything exactly as Johnny had planned. 

How you got to the cabin and waited. And waited some more. 

"He knew my name." You felt a little bit floaty by now. The nurse had gone, too, leaving you with the two men. "He called my name through the door." 

Johnny looked worried, squeezing your hand gently. "Did he know the all clear?" 

"He did. Not at first, he said… said you'd sent him to pick me up. But when I refused to open the door, he gave the all clear." You blinked slowly and licked your lips. 

The men exchanged another significant look. You just reached trembling fingers for the cup of water. 

Price rescued you, handing it over and holding it until you had a firm grip. "Then what?"

You sipped the water and shrugged. "Well, I opened the door. He knew the all clear. He told me to leave my things, because we needed to go." You paused, tipping your head a little. "I think he drugged me. It gets fuzzy, but I think I remember something hurting my neck, and maybe being set down in the car?" 

"Okay," Price murmured. "We're almost done. When did you wake up?"

Your hands started shaking. "A few minutes before that video." 

"You don't need to tell us about that," Johnny was quick to assure you, shooting Price a look as if to keep him from objecting. "What happened in between waking up and the video?"

"Not a lot. He didn't say much, just said…" You swallowed hard, hand clutching tight to Johnny's. "Said he needed me alive, but not necessarily unharmed, so I should behave." 

Johnny rubbed your knee soothingly. "That should be enough, aye, Captain?"

"Just one more question." Price leaned forward a little. "After the video ended… what did he say?"

You looked away, swallowing roughly. You didn't think you could physically cry anymore, but you wanted to. "That what I did was foolish, and I should remain quiet or he'd kill me." Your next inhale was shaky. "He wasn't planning to let me leave alive no matter what Johnny did, was he?" 

"No. He wasn't." Price turned off the recorder and patted your knee. "Get some rest. You too, Soap." And then he was gone, striding away. 

You leaned more heavily into Johnny, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. "Are we done?" You couldn't raise your voice above a murmur. 

"Yeah, we're done. You did so well, darlin'. So well." Johnny pressed feather-light kisses to your temple and cheek. "Drink the rest of that water, aye? You're dehydrated." 

You drank, and then laid back in the cot when Johnny helped. His hand leaving yours caused you to struggle into sitting again, a pained noise leaving you. 

"Easy, darlin', easy," Johnny assured you. "Just moving this cot so I can get some sleep too." He dragged the cot right next to yours and then laid down, once again holding your hand. There was open pain in his gaze as he looked you over again. "I am so sorry."

"Don't. Don't apologize for him. It's not your fault." You held tight to his hand, frowning and ignoring the pull of the butterfly bandages at your temple. 

"But–"

"No. They chose to do awful things, not you. Don't take the blame for them." You dared to scoot a little closer to him. "Please, Johnny. Don't let this destroy either of us." 

His eyes widened and a moment later he was curled around you, trembling minutely. His breathing was fast and shaky, unsteady. But you held firm through it all, lifting one hand to rub at the soft, prickly short hairs on the side of his head until he calmed. 

"You're a bloody marvel," he finally whispered, breath warm against your collarbone. "And you need to sleep."

"Stay?" You pressed your hand to the back of his head, gently holding him. 

"As long as you'll have me," he vowed, quiet and sincere. "Maybe even a bit after that." 

"You'll be waiting a long time," you murmured. Your eyes were closed and you couldn't pry them back open. Thoughts were hard to keep track of. 

"Wouldn't have it any other way, darlin'." 

You meant to reply, you really did. But between thinking of a response and trying to actually say it… you fell asleep. 

But you wouldn't have it any other way. 

[midnights-song]

A Fight Not Yet Won

Ghost x Reader x Soap

A/N: MDNI!!!!!!

Warning: This may contain potentially triggering depictions of wounds, course language, mention of potentially traumatic themes, read at your own risk!

Some days, it was easy being in the medical field, small injuries, minor sickness, things that could be treated and sent home with a thorough treatment plan. Other days, it was an absolute hell, never-ending traumas, domestic cases, multiple codes, those days that felt like you were actively fighting an opposing force determined to make you lose all hope. How you wanted to on those days, wondering why you had even bothered to work in this field after you had to call time of death on a toddler that drowned due to parental neglect. This job had sucked the life out of you, wrung you out and left you to rot.

That is, until you met your boys. 

You met Simon first, not through a harsh twist of fate as one might think, but rather through an old friend from work that had suggested getting together at the local bar for drinks. You were hesitant, not much for drinking but had decided what the hell, a night out couldn’t hurt.

Truly, it didn’t hurt, you had a fantastic time, laughing it up while you shared an appetizer after a few drinks. You had noticed a tall, burly man in the corner of the bar, lowering a surgical mask to take a few sips of a beer that he had grasped in his left hand. You tried not to stare, sneaking glances his way as two rowdy men approached him. Soon after, a third man approached, his calm demeanor leveling out the other two from earlier. The four of them all had beers, yet as the night went on, the drinks got stronger and conversation louder. 

Bringing your attention back to your friend, you focused on catching up, whispering the juiciest gossip you could give them without it being a violation of someone’s privacy. Drinks began getting stronger for the two of you as well, slow cautious sips became almost gulps as the warm fuzzy feeling took over. Your friend kept glancing over your shoulder at something, seemingly concerned but unsure of what to do. Once you noticed, you took a look back yourself and noticed the curly haired blonde making his way to you.

You thought he was big in the corner, but he was even bigger up close. At least twice the size of your original estimate. And his eyes, ohh his eyes, soft caramel underneath the dim lighting of the bar met yours and all at once you became aware of two things; one, you were properly buzzed, and two, he held a slip of a torn napkin in his hand towards you. 

 “The name’s Simon,” He began, you took the napkin from him almost hesitantly, glancing between it and him, “I saw you from over there, I’m not very good at this but I would like to get to know you better.”

You caught movement out of the corner of your eye, looking towards it you noticed that all three of the men with him were looking at him in shock. You were still holding the napkin, glancing between him and it as you made your decision. You introduced yourself softly, quietly even. You became stone cold sober as you wrote your information out for him, aware that this could very well be one of the worst decisions of your life, but you shook it off with a smile. After all, you only live once, right?

Then came Johnny, sweet, stubborn, Johnny. After meeting Simon at the bar, you two began to have weekly meetups. You learned he was in the military, he learned you were in the medical field, simple conversations got deeper as more time went on. Before you knew it, weekly turned into every few days, turned into almost every single day. There was very little you two didn’t know about each other.

One day, you stopped in to visit Simon without giving him a heads up. Walking up to his door, you could hear muffled speech, two deep accented voices almost battling as they rose together passionately. It had seemed like a disagreement, one that you were about to get drug into whether you intended to or not as the door flew open. 

Bright blue eyes locked in on you, the dark haired man with a mohawk focused on your appearance, eyes dragging downwards until they reached the ground your shoes rested on.

“Ah'm in.” He muttered back towards Simon, reaching a hand out to you.

“Ah'm John, call me Johnny.” He cooed, his accent sending shivers down your spine. A grin overtook his features, dimples showing through a light dusting of scruff. He ran a hand through his unruly hair before moving to the side and gesturing you in.

Once you walked in, the rest was history. One drink led to another, those drinks led to clothes thrown all over in desperation as the three of you made way to the bedroom. The rest was history, you became attached at the hips, that was until it was time for their next deployment.

It was supposed to be a simple mission, the main focus being to collect the intel and get out of dodge before the enemy discovered their presence among them. Simon and Johnny both kept reassuring you that it would be alright, they’ve done this hundreds of times before and they would be home before you knew it. You couldn’t shake the feeling of dread you had, small whispers of doubt creeping along your mind.

You had picked up a civilian contract in a military hospital after several conversations with your boys, deciding that it would be a good opportunity for you to be closer just in case the unthinkable happened. 

By god, did it.  

It was your run of the mill Tuesday, you began your shift by getting into the morning huddle, getting reports from the staff member before you. After you got the information you needed, you had just sat down to open your charts to verify information when you got an overhead alert.

“CODE BLUE, ETA 5 MINUTES, TRAUMA TEAM STANDBY, BAY 5”

A shiver went up your spine, a sense of doom overtaking you as the alert repeated a few times. It wasn’t your team called, but it was unusual to get a hotshot straight in like this.  

“Let me go!” The screams reached your ears before the trauma crew had even gotten the stretcher in the doorway, “Fucking let me go! I need to see him!” 

You didn’t even think twice, Simon's screams would be forever etched into your brain, but the sight that you came upon made you fall to your knees and wail. You could see the laryngoscope being forced into Johnny’s mouth, intubation following as they desperately worked to regain a pulse. CPR ongoing, meds being slammed, clothing being cut away quickly, bagging in progress, you could hear commands being thrown around but you couldn’t focus on anything said as the blood stains burned into your retinas. You couldn’t peel your eyes away from the laceration exposing his skull, grayish bone exposed to air as blood congealed around the rough edges of the wound. 

Simon’s eyes whipped over once he heard you, tears racing down his face through his broken mask as he began fighting even harder against Gaz’s hold. He needed to get to you, God he needed to touch you. Pure fear controlled him, pupils dilating as he broke free from Gaz. His own IV dangling from his arm, halfway removed from his struggle as his blood began dripping onto both of you.

 “Oh, god! I couldn’t-I didn’t!” His voice was breaking, cracking under the shock of everything. He couldn’t save him, the most he could do was watch as his lover was shot in the head by their enemy. It was only by pure chance they were already near exfil, Johnny was kept alive just long enough to get on the flight and be shoved over to medical. Simon forced his way onto the flight, trying to swat away the nurses that flocked to him to treat his injuries.

He watched as Johnny flatlined several times, only to be brought back and to die again and again, the vicious cycle never ending.  He tried to cover your face, your own screams melding with his as his eyes refused to leave Johnny’s prone form being surrounded. 

“We got a pulse!” A declaration that might’ve well have been directly from the mouth of a god Simon didn’t believe in, had him curling into you and sobbing. 

A single, glistening tear ran down Johnny’s cheek, a fight not yet won.  

A/N: Whoo! What a way to get back into it! I haven't written in years, so please be kind! This lovely little number was inspired by the wonderful @mindie-arts, namely this specific piece! An absolute treasure, I'm telling you! This was also written quickly so I apologize for any errors in structure or grammar/spelling!

Also, yes, they are out of character, I did that for the sake of the situation! I think it worked well :)

Wordcount: 1.4k

[vanderwoodlings]

how do you kill a feeling: a blair/dan playlist (x)

Tracklist and commentary under the cut:

This is also entirely country music, because, uh… I wanted to? And at least one person (hi Liz) seemed into the idea? Generally when it comes to GG, we skew more towards pop than anything else, so it was a fun experiment!

1. “Easy Silence,” The Chicks. And I come to find a refuge in the/Easy silence that you make for me/It’s okay when there’s nothing more to say to me

2. “Walkin’ After Midnight,” Patsy Cline. [dan voice] I’ve been walking around the city all night with one paralyzing, all-consuming thought

3. “Found It In You,” Tiera Kennedy. The confidence to know that I can be happy/Just ‘cause you tell me that you got me.

4. “Friends Don’t,” Maddie & Tae. [Insert obligatory aromantic disclaimer that Friends Do, Thanks, here.] That aside, this is just… so stupid best friends in pining denial dair-coded

5. “I Try to Think About Elvis,” Patty Loveless. When you’re ass backwards crushing on Blair Waldorf and you would like to not be, please

6. “Hey, Good Lookin’,” Hank Williams. This one was one that just clicked as a dair song at random somewhere—something about the I’m gonna throw my date book over the fence bit especially—and sparked this playlist into being

7. “Lay It On Me,” Mickey Guyton. I want the truth and all your lies/I want your perfectly imperfect

8. “I’ll Be,” Reba McEntire. And mayhaps Dan has a white knight complex. I’ll be the rock that will be strong for you/The one that will hold on to you

9. “Marigold,” Paisley Fields. Marigold, bold and bright/Marigold, through spring and summer/You brighten up my night, marigold

10. “After I Fall,” Lee Ann Womack. And mayhaps Blair is a bit traumatized. After I fall, where do I stand/After my heart is in your hands/And you’ve got it all

11. “cowboy take me away,” Brittney Spencer. This one is in the Vibe—because God knows neither of them want to get out of the city and get dirt on their hands—it’s more something wild and unruly

12. “I Can’t Help It (If I’m Still in Love with You),” Johnny Cash. Dan pining moments

13. “This Kiss,” Faith Hill. I always love story imagery with Blair, so of course we’ve got Cinderella said to Snow White/“How does love get so off course/Oh, all I wanted was a white knight/With a good heart/Soft touch, fast horse.”

14. “Wrecking Ball,” Emmylou Harris. This song’s got the narrator offering a first date if the other person is in, in spite of the lack of privacy she’s got/the things the other person might know, which is very Gossip Girl, but there’s also something about the Meet me at the wrecking ball (wrecking ball)/I’ll wear something pretty and white that feels very Blair

15. “Death Of Me,” Reyna Roberts. Took this barely beating heart and brought it back to life/But this love might be the death of me.

16. “Starting Over,” Chris Stapleton. Gotta give them something good. And, honey, for once in our life/Let’s take our chances and roll the dice

17. “Grow Old with Me,” Sunny Sweeney. They all said we’d never fit so well together/Grow old with me, I’ll keep you young forever

18. “Jolene,” Dolly Parton. I’ve used this as a Blair’s Serena complex song before, way back on the blairena playlist and uh… I was right ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

19. “Milwaukee,” Wyatt Flores. Okay, yeah, wrong city, but—You can hate my eyes for watching you leave/You can hate my should have chased you down feet/…/Please don’t hate my heart

20. “What Brings Life Also Kills,” Kolton Moore & the Clever Few. Dear, I’m writing this for you/As I contemplate tomorrow/Why did it end so soon?

21. “Buddy,” Willie Nelson. S6 dangina hours!!!!

22. “Why’d You Come in Here Lookin’ Like That,” Dolly Parton. Exists in the theoretical Dan slut era of my dreams. He’s out slow dancing with every girl around/I’m a soft-hearted woman, he’s a hardheaded man/And he’s gonna make me feel just as bad as he can

23. “Foolin’ Ourselves,” Evan Honer. Welcome to the dairfair! We get a little chronologically blurry here for the sake of the Sound being right, but I trust y’all to follow along

24. “On the Other Hand,” Randy Travis. On one hand, I could stay and be your lovin’ man/But the reason I must go is on the other hand.

25. “Summertime,” Orville Peck. You and I/Bide our time/And I miss summertime

26. “Satin Sheets,” Tammy Wynette. If Serena gets “Jolene” (or even, sort of, the pseudo-honorable “On the Other Hand”), Chip gets this. Blair canonically sings Wynette’s “Stand By Your Man” about him (which really fucks me up), so I knew she had to be on here somewhere, but I wasn’t expecting something quite so suitable to jump right out. But your money can’t hold me tight/Like he does on a long, long night

27. “Your Someone,” May Erlewine. I thought that I was stronger/I willed myself to be/But love can be so tender/I feel a tenderness in me

28. “To June This Morning,” Ruston Kelly, Kacey Musgraves.

29. “Love is Alive,” The Judds. Love is a man and he’s mine/Love is alive/And at our breakfast table

30. “Love Is A Wild Thing,” Kacey Musgraves. There’s no way to stop it, so don’t try to

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Chapter 12.

I quickly tidied up my small apartment after everyone had left, resulting in me crashing on the couch. I sighed contently, pulling out my phone as I felt it buzz.

jake: so when is you amd Johnnie's wedding?

me: you've used that joke like 10 times get better

jake: shut up but fr whats going onnnn

me: jake you literally love with him idk why you're asking me cause idk

me: live*

jake: yes y/n I'm in love with johnnie

jake: oh.

me: shut up 😭

jake: ig I'll go have a chat with johnnje

me: that's not scary at all

jake: :)

me: ok lmk please

jake: sorry, bro code still exists

me: oh my GOOOOD jake I swear

me: whatever goodnight twink

jake: nighty night

I left him on read and got up, making my way into my bedroom. of course, the one thing I forgot to do was make my bed. you could still see the way the covers were twisted from where me and johnnie laid. I smiled softly to myself, sitting down on the bed and undressing.

my phone went off once more. I rolled my eyes, assuming it was jake coming back to bully me more. i picked up my phone off the night stand and read the message I had gotten.

mom: hey honey! how have you been? me and your father will be coming to town in March to check on you and the cafe. well see you soon! miss you bunches.

I didn't bother opening the message, internally groaning at the thought of having to see my parental figures for more than a day. every time they visited, they'd stay around a week and constantly harass me. it always messed up my whole schedule, and now it'd be even worse with johnnie, jake, and Tara in my life. I wouldn't hear the end of it from them. I'd get my ear chewed off by them, saying my friends are weird or stupid shit that wasn't true. if they weren't the perfect people, then they were nobody to my parents. it was dissapointing to me, and honestly embarrassing. i tossed my phone onto the nightstand and placed my hands over my face, sighing loudly. my phone vibrated loudly, startling me out of my exasperated state. i groaned, assuming it was someone i wouldn't be very happy talking to. i let it ring a little longer before reading the caller ID. my phone read "johnnie." i flew out of my bed, snatching my phone. i answered his face time call after making sure my hair wasn't a mess.

"hello?" johnnies raspy voice came through the phone, making me face heat up. he was close to the camera, i was only able to see his nose and eyes.

"Hi, johnnie." I smiled, matching his camera angle. "what's up?"

"I'm bored and playing fortnite alone." he said, propping his phone up.

"oh shit, I've never really played fortnite." I admitted.

"we gotta change that." he smirked. "i'll have to teach you how to play next time you come over."

i smiled, "okay."

it went silent for a bit, allowing me to examine his makeup. he had streaks of eyeliner coming down one eye with bright blue eyeshadow around and on his eyelid. somehow, he noticed me staring. he obviously had an amazing eye, considering we were on the phone and not in person. "what?" he giggled, a light blush showing through his makeup.

"i don't know, i like your makeup." i looked at the ceiling instead of the phone, laying down to get comfortable. i propped my phone up on my nightstand.

"really?" his smile grew, "you should let me do yours sometime. i mean, i usually don't like doing other peoples, but i think it'd be fun with you."

i wondered what made me different than anyone else, but i didn't bother asking. i rubbed my eyes and muttered, "sounds fun."

"you tired?" he asked, his whole demeanor changing as i heard shooting coming from the background. his hands fondled with the controller swiftly as he fought the other player. his eyebrows scrunched together as he focused, his smiling dropping.

"i mean, yeah." i laughed at him. "that seems intense."

he tossed his hands up in the air in defeat. "what the fuck, dude." i continued to laugh at him, causing him to look at the phone. "wow."

"i'm sorry, it's just funny as fuck seeing you like this." i explained, gently closing my eyes.

he rolled his eyes playfully. "whatever." he had a small smile on his face as he loaded into the next match. "you know what else would be fun?"

"hm?"

"if we went to a concert together." he pondered. "have you ever been to a concert before?"

"no, just school concerts." i said. "who would we even go see?"

"i don't know. my chemical romance, really whoever's in town." he paused. "that we like."

"well, obviously. you like my chemical romance?" i asked, surprised.

"is it not obvious?" he giggled.

i rolled my eyes. "whatever. mcr is one of my favorite bands, though. i never hear about anyone who likes them anymore."

"i love them too." he smiled at me.

the silence began to lull me to sleep, along with johnnies presence on the other side of the phone. my eyes began to feel heavy, and i eventually fell asleep.

[soob1nn]

MY FILMS - ADULT FAME DR

REMINDER! I haven’t shifted yet, so all these is just my imagination 🤍

masterlist - main masterlist

Films are a powerful medium of storytelling and artistic expression. Combining visual, auditory, and narrative elements, films captivate audiences, transporting them to diverse worlds, evoking emotions, and sparking thought. From silent classics to cutting-edge blockbusters, the world of cinema has evolved, reflecting societal changes and pushing creative boundaries. Whether it's the magic of a well-crafted screenplay, the mesmerizing performances of actors, or the technical brilliance behind the scenes, films continue to be a dynamic and influential form of entertainment and cultural expression.

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN

The "Pirates of the Caribbean" saga is a cinematic adventure like no other, immersing audiences in a world of high-seas exploits, swashbuckling action, and supernatural wonders. This beloved franchise, brought to life by the charismatic Captain Jack Sparrow, has left an indelible mark on the world of cinema.

What sets the "Pirates of the Caribbean" saga apart is its perfect fusion of thrilling action and cleverly woven mythology. From the very first installment, "The Curse of the Black Pearl," to subsequent sequels, the films have taken viewers on a journey filled with cursed treasures, mythical creatures, and, of course, eccentric pirates.

At the heart of the saga is the enigmatic Captain Jack Sparrow, portrayed brilliantly by Johnny Depp. Jack's witty charm, unpredictable antics, and ever-present quest for rum have made him an iconic character in cinematic history.

The franchise's success also lies in its ability to seamlessly blend history and fantasy. The Caribbean settings, the pirate code, and the age of exploration provide a historically rich backdrop for the fantastical elements like cursed Aztec gold, undead sailors, and mermaids.

Each film in the series has introduced new characters and expanded upon the lore, creating a vast and interconnected narrative that keeps fans eagerly awaiting the next installment.

With unforgettable moments, memorable quotes, and a score that resonates long after the credits roll, the "Pirates of the Caribbean" saga has carved its place as a beloved classic. It's a thrilling voyage into the world of pirates, where legends, curses, and epic battles reign, making it a timeless adventure that continues to captivate audiences of all ages.

BEAUTY OF THE BEAST

"Beauty and the Beast," in its live-action adaptation, breathes new life into a timeless tale that has enchanted generations. This magical film takes the beloved animated classic and transforms it into a visually stunning and emotionally captivating experience.

Set in a picturesque French village, the story follows the intelligent and kind-hearted Belle, brilliantly portrayed by Emma Watson, who longs for more than the provincial life she leads. When her father becomes a prisoner in the enchanted castle of the Beast, played by Dan Stevens, Belle courageously takes his place, embarking on a journey of discovery, love, and the power of inner beauty.

With its stunning visual effects, lavish costumes, and memorable musical score, the live-action "Beauty and the Beast" faithfully pays homage to the original while adding depth to its characters and narrative. The film not only celebrates the power of love but also explores themes of tolerance, acceptance, and the beauty that lies within.

This enchanting adaptation is a cinematic masterpiece that captures the hearts of both long-time fans and new audiences, reaffirming the enduring power of this classic tale as old as time. "Beauty and the Beast" in its live-action form invites us to be their guest in a world where magic and love flourish, reminding us that beauty truly comes from within.

LITTLE WOMEN

"Little Women" stands as a cinematic jewel, capturing the timeless essence of Louisa May Alcott's literary masterpiece. This film adaptation, directed by Greta Gerwig, breathes new life into the beloved narrative of the March sisters, presenting a fresh and poignant take on sisterhood, ambition, and the pursuit of one's dreams.

Set against the backdrop of the American Civil War, "Little Women" unfolds the lives of the four March sisters—Jo, Meg, Beth, and Amy—each with distinctive personalities and aspirations. The film gracefully weaves between the past and present, allowing audiences to witness the joys and challenges of the sisters as they navigate the trials of womanhood, love, and societal expectations.

With an all-star cast featuring Winter Reed Jackman, Emma Watson, Florence Pugh, and Eliza Scanlen as the March sisters, and an exceptional performance by Timothée Chalamet as Laurie, the film brings these iconic characters to life with depth and authenticity.

Greta Gerwig's directorial prowess shines through as she infuses "Little Women" with a contemporary spirit, resonating with modern audiences while maintaining the timeless charm of the original story. The film is a celebration of the strength, resilience, and individuality of women, urging viewers to embrace their ambitions and forge their paths.

"Little Women" is a poignant and visually captivating cinematic journey that captures the spirit of sisterhood and the pursuit of one's aspirations. It invites audiences to revisit the cherished tale with fresh eyes, offering a profound and emotionally resonant experience for both new and devoted fans of this literary classic.

KNIVES OUT

"Knives Out" is a modern masterpiece in the realm of whodunits, a brilliantly crafted film that masterfully blends mystery, humor, and a star-studded ensemble cast. Directed by Rian Johnson, this murder-mystery film takes audiences on a rollercoaster ride of suspense, twists, and dark humor.

The story centers around the death of wealthy crime novelist Harlan Thrombey, portrayed by Christopher Plummer. When renowned detective Benoit Blanc, played by Daniel Craig, is enlisted to investigate, the Thrombey family becomes the focal point of scrutiny. With each member harboring secrets and motives, the plot thickens, and the suspense escalates.

"Knives Out" boasts a stellar cast including Daniel Craig, Winter Reed Jackman, Chris Evans, Jamie Lee Curtis, and more, each delivering standout performances that contribute to the film's gripping atmosphere. The narrative is cleverly layered, keeping viewers on the edge of their seats as they attempt to unravel the intricate web of deception and motive.

Beyond its gripping storyline, "Knives Out" is a sharp and satirical take on family dynamics, privilege, and the consequences of wealth. Rian Johnson's expert direction and sharp dialogue elevate the film, making it a delightful homage to classic whodunits while infusing it with a contemporary edge.

This cinematic gem not only keeps the audience guessing until the very end but also provides a fresh and entertaining perspective on the murder mystery genre. "Knives Out" is a clever and stylish film that engages the mind, tickles the funny bone, and ultimately leaves a lasting impression, establishing itself as a standout in the pantheon of modern cinema.

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

"Top Gun: Maverick" is a highly anticipated sequel that soars into the iconic world of fighter jets and high-stakes aerial combat. Directed by Joseph Kosinski and starring Tom Cruise reprising his role as Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, this film is a thrilling continuation of the 1986 classic, "Top Gun."

Set decades after the events of the original film, Captain Maverick finds himself adapting to a new era of aerial warfare dominated by drone technology. As he mentors a new generation of Top Gun graduates, the film promises heart-pounding dogfights, cutting-edge aviation sequences, and a nostalgic nod to the beloved elements that made the first film an enduring favorite.

"Top Gun: Maverick" not only reintroduces fans to the adrenaline-fueled world of fighter pilots but also introduces fresh faces played by actors like Miles Teller and Winter Reed Jackman. With its combination of high-octane action and character-driven storytelling, the film aims to capture the spirit of the original while propelling the narrative into uncharted skies.

As Maverick confronts his past and embraces the challenges of the future, the film offers a blend of nostalgia and innovation, promising an exhilarating cinematic experience for both longtime fans and a new generation of moviegoers. "Top Gun: Maverick" is poised to be a blockbuster that reignites the Maverick legend while delivering a visual spectacle that takes the iconic franchise to new heights.

THE SEVEN HUSBANDS OF EVELYN HUGO

"The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo" unfolds on the silver screen as a spellbinding cinematic journey through the glitz and glamour of Hollywood's Golden Age. Adapted from Taylor Jenkins Reid's compelling novel, this film invites audiences into the captivating life story of Evelyn Hugo, a legendary film actress portrayed with brilliance and nuance.

In the film, we follow Evelyn's journey through the decades, beautifully capturing the essence of old Hollywood. The glamorous sets, meticulously crafted costumes, and evocative cinematography transport viewers to a bygone era where stars shone brightly on and off the screen.

As the narrative unfolds, the complexities of Evelyn’s seven marriages come to life, each husband portrayed by a stellar cast that adds depth to the character-driven drama. The film navigates the twists and turns of Evelyn’s life, revealing secrets, scandals, and the sacrifices made in the pursuit of fame and love.

The storytelling prowess of Taylor Jenkins Reid is masterfully translated to the screen, with Evelyn's compelling voice narrating her journey. The film seamlessly weaves together themes of identity, love, and the price of success, creating an emotional tapestry that resonates with audiences.

While exploring the intricacies of Evelyn's life, the film introduces Monique Grant, the journalist chosen by Evelyn to tell her story. Monique's personal journey becomes an integral part of the cinematic narrative, adding layers of depth and connection to the overarching tale.

"The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo" on the big screen is more than a glamorous expose of Hollywood excess; it's a poignant exploration of the human experience. The film's rich storytelling, combined with outstanding performances and lush visuals, elevates it beyond a mere adaptation, making it a cinematic triumph that lingers in the hearts of viewers long after the final credits roll.

[gonnamurdersomeone]

CoD people as cats? I think so here we go!

Someone better appreciate this I literally took 3 pages from my fucking notebook to write all this shit down

Captain John “Bravo-6” Price

I think John would definitely be an Oriental cat if not that then probably a Burmese. Smart, quick on his feet and pretty loyal seems about right.

Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley

I think Simon would be a Norwegian forest cat or a British Short hair.. for obvious reasons dude is a fuckin Brit through and through. I chose NFC becuase they are bigger types of cats and used to harsh climates

Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

For Gaz I chose an Abyssinian cat, they are pretty, usually have pretty eyes (like him) and are pretty smart and playful. Very Gaz coded

Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny boy would be a Scottish Fold or a Siamese cat. They are very vocal, love people and are just a joy to be around honestly. Plus they suffer from pretty boy syndrome so… yeah

Sergeant Gary “Roach” Sanderson

Gary my baby boy, I chose an OciCat cause of his name it’s so random? I thought him being a more exotic and weird cat would fit his aesthetic. Very pretty cats too!

General Hershel Shepherd

Fucking hell I hate this dude and for that I gave him a Sphynx cat, they are mean, bald and bossy as fuck. Sound about right for mister Shepherd no?

I want to kill him

Kate “Watcher-1” Laswell

Kate one of my favorites! She would definitely be an American Curl. Very pretty cats with a unique personality and it just fits her. That or a Bombay cat I couldn’t choose

Nikolai “Gaz fell out of the helicopter again”

Nik our lovable transportation buddy, of course he would get a Russian blue there is no need to elaborate here he would be a Russian blue. Very cool cats ngl

Farah “Kilo Actual” Karim

She is so pretty and such a girl boss istg. But I’m giving the Bengal cat or an Ural Rex very curly hair and just very funny kitties, I think it fits her

Alex “Echo 3-1” Keller (Jr Price fr)

Pretty boy gets a pretty cat!!! He gets to be a Manx cat cause of the no tail (and his one leg) nahh jokes aside very pretty kitties for a very pretty boy

Phillip “Shadow-1” Graves

I hate this dude with all my atoms but he’s tolerable compared to Shepherd.. But I gave Graved an American shorthair. One becuase he’s American and two his hairline makes me wanna cry

Vladimir Makarov

I hate you so so much for what you did in MW3… but you are a character so I’m still giving you a cat. If you were a cat my guy I think you’d be an Peterbald or a Karelian cat

Andre “Alpha 2-1” Nolan

Surprisingly not a bad character imo but he could use some more character development! I’m giving him a Korat cat or a Singapura. I wish he got more development in MW3 honestly :/

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro! Our favorite Mexican man gotta love him and the cowboys. He’s a petty boy as well so I’m giving him a pretty chill and cool cat as well. A color point shorthair, not necessarily a *breed* per day but still he deserves a petty kitty

Rodolfo Parra

Rudy! Another cowboy we love what a gentleman <3 I’m giving him an Egyptian Mau kitty, it has spots and I think Rudy would be a spotted kitty. Very good boy

Valeria “El-Sin-Nombre” Garza

Mommy issues fr love this women. I support women rights AND wrongs 💪 she gets a Donskoy or a Savannah cat. Both wild kitties to match her wild and unpredictable personality I think it fits very well

König

Anxious King gotta love them! For obvious reasons he’s a Maine Coon cat, the biggest house cat there is. For being an absolute UNIT of a man he deserves a very loyal, pretty, and big kitty. God I just wanna smother this man

Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin

Toyger need I say more? It’s a literal house tiger, his name is fucking Tiger he gets to be the tiger damnit! 😤

Darnell “Hutch” Hutcherson

Dunno the rest of these guys very well (besides Nikto) but I’m giving Hutch a Chartreux cat. I wish the more obscure characters got more attention, no they may not be apart of the MW part but still they deserve love

Nikto

I love this man with every fucking atom of my body. My baby boy deserves the best cat in my opinion the Lykoi. Very cool, funny and amazing cats one of the best he’s just a goober I wanna pet him and keep him in my closet away from all the bad things

Mace

Mace heard some things about you here and there and decided I couldn’t leave you behind. You my friend would be an Oriental Longhair dunno why but I think it suits him

Velikan

Idk if this man is even part of the fandom? Either way I’m giving you a cat deal with it. You would be an Highlander cat if not then an Tonkinese kitty.

Keegan P Russ

Oh Keegan my dear boy, you would be a Devon Rex kitty, very smart, mischievous and overall just a joyful cat. You deserve the world my dear

Logan Walker

Ragdoll. You will get a ragdoll take it or leave or my guy. Just know I’m only adding you and everyone else because of Keegan

David “Hesh” walker

Hhhh.. hesh dude idk I’d probably give you a Havanah Brown kitty. Seems like a good fit. Unusual brown kitty for a unusual cool character

Elias T “Scarecrow” Walker

I literally know nothing about you? But I’m still giving you a cat! Uh I think possibly a Javanese cat would fit you my dude.

Alex v “Ajax” Johnson

Same with you like? I have never heard about you either but whatever. I think a Australian Mist or a Khao Manee cat would work

Alright so that’s all the CoD characters I think? I’m not sure if I missed anyone, if I did tell me and I’ll assign them in the comments or whatever.

No I’m not adding the other characters such as Diego or any other unknown Ghost team people or random background people that only have like 2 lines of dialogue or is barely even known within the CoD community.

[captain-mj]

Hey, 🦭 here back from the grave (was just resting after a hellish week of school)

I have been obsessed with Sleep Token especially their song called 'Chokehold' which in think is very eldritch GhostSoap coded, with Ghost being an eldritch god and Soap being his most devoted follower (iykyk)

And Ghost who just adores his follower and can't help but grant Soap's indulgence and desires because of his own selfishness

Could you possibly make a fic like that? Pretty please with a bit of dynamite on top :3

-🦭

(The brainrot is brainrotting /srs)

I love that song so much, I can of course do that!! Also, it's nice to see you again :)

Ghost sat in his temple silently. He observed those who came in and offered things and those with entertaining tales or genuine needs were given what they asked. Most requests though were... petty. Indulgent. A desperate plea for more attention, more money, more pleasure.

Ghost wanted to lash out at them some days. And he did. He'd curse them with impotence, poverty and isolation at the drop of a hat. It had become a known risk to everyone but...

Johnny.

His favorite follower.

He lifted his hand, letting the priest cut his wrist so blood would flow.

Ghost listened intently, letting the other prayers fall away like rushing water.

"Ghost." His name on his tongue was beautiful. "I am here to request something." Normally, Ghost would listen to his request, answer it immediately and let Soap leave. But today, he wanted it to be different.

Gently, not wanting to hurt him or any of his other loving followers, he spoke. "Everyone must leave except the current person praying."

His priests hopped to it, herding everyone out. It left Soap alone in the place of worship.

Soap looked up at the depictions of Ghost. Of dark wide eyes staring into the souls of anyone who came in. Ready to dismiss them or bless them on a whim.

"My God." He moved to kneel, averting his eyes. "I always feel your presence here. I never thought I'd be chosen to hear your voice or hold your attention like this."

"You think you hold all of my attention?" Ghost had created universes. Species. Had senses that would melt Soap's brain to even be explained. But yeah, Soap did in fact have all of his attention. He just shouldn't assume he did.

Or he could. Ghost doubted, even if he disrespected him to his face, he could stay mad for too long.

Soap tensed. "No! Of course not, it's just more attention than I'd ever expect. I'm...."

"Keep your eyes on the ground." Ghost stepped in front of him. Smoke billowed off of him, form fading in and out of existence. "Wouldn't want to drive my favorite follower insane."

Soap's breathing hitched. "Favorite?"

Ghost ignored him. "What is it you want?"

"I..."

"Spit it out."

"Health. For my family."

Ghost hummed. "Granted. What else?"

"What?"

"That's for your family. Would you like anything?"

"I... um..."

"Anything you want."

Soap nodded. "I... I don't know. I don't have anything else I desire."

Ghost hummed. "I see. How sweet." He trailed around him in circles. "Power beyond wildest dreams? Friends and worshippers? Enough money to indulgent in all forms of debauchery?"

"No. I don't find much interest in those."

Ghost nodded. "Well, I want to give you something for yourself. Selfishly of course."

Soap almost looked up before quickly remembering his place. "If you'd so please, my holiness."

My?

My??

Ghost touched him, feeling him shiver and shake, almost doubling over. Soap whimpered, burying his face on to the floor as sensations rushed through him. He ended the contact and watched him sink further.

"You're interesting, Johnny."

Soap took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Your family will be healthy. You have given me enough, today."

"If I found something to wish for, could I come back tomorrow?"

Ghost paused and mulled over it. "Come at night. You could spend it with me." He'd have to be so gentle, but the idea of holding Soap in his hands. "I won't fault you if you don't."

"I will. I'll be here. I promise, I'll..." Ghost grabbed him by the scruff and felt him twist in his hands, overcome with feelings again. Soap grabbed his leg for support and whimpered. It wasn't the most pleasant sensation for most people, but like he predicted, Soap liked it. Maybe it would become an addiction. That way Soap was just addicted to his presence as Ghost was becoming to Soap.

"You will. And I'll grant you all of your desires."

[plagues02]

Is There Room For Four?

Chapter Two - Room for a Third

Summary: A few years after Ghost accepted Roach as his soulmate, they get called up by an old friend, asking them to join his new task force. Task Force 141. Little did anyone know, this would lead to more color being introduced to their world Characters: Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Gary 'Roach' Sanderson, Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, John Price, Kate Laswell Ship: GhostRoach, SoapGhostRoach, End Game SoapGhostRoacgKönig, Platonic SoapGaz, Platonic Laswell and Price Word Count: 3436 Note: This was written back in 2022 and was originally posted on Ao3 Chapters: One, Two(You're Here), Three, Four

It has been almost three years since that day. Since then, Gary and Simon stayed teamed up at the request of the higher-ranking soldier, which surprised everyone including Ghost. They worked well together, making them the perfect two for Price to ask to join his new task force.

Roach leaned over the Brit’s shoulder to look at the papers the captain slid to them. Task Force 141 was written on the top folder with the logo of the force printed under it.

Price asked to meet them at a small pub near Roach’s and Ghost’s small London flat on their off night. It seemed oddly timed, causing the duo to wonder if their off day was planned by the older man. He was high enough rank that it wouldn’t surprise them. Ghost flipped open the folder and read the first few lines of the paper:

Task Force 141. Founded by Captain John Price. Commanded by Captain John Price, Station Chief Kate Laswell, and General Shepard. Task Force 141’s goal is to counter-terrorism throughout the world.

Ghost continued to read as Roach reached for two other files. Other recruits, most likely the two who Price mentioned had accepted the proposal. Sergeant Kyle Garrick, code name Gaz, and Sergeant Johnny MacTavish, code name Soap. Soap? What kind of name was Soap?

The Brit looked over at the folders the American was holding. Ghost placed the main file down and took one of the profiles. His eyes raised an eye behind his mask. Price knew which file he grabbed.

“He’s known for his speed and accuracy,” Price said. “Cleans out a room like no other.”

The folders were placed on the table again, and Ghost reached for his drink, bourbon of course. The man paused as he started to bring it up to his lips, remembering his mask in time. Roach silently chuckled, watching him pull his mask just enough to drink. Roach looked back at the captain, moving his hands up to bring attention to himself.

“What will we bring to the table for you? You seem to have a good team already,” he signed in BSL, not ASL. He has learned it since he was living in England, not the United States any more.

Price shifted to lean against the table, hands clasped together in front of him. Both sets of eyes were on him.

“Soap is fast and accurate. Gaz is a good kid. I’ve worked with him before, and I know he’s prepared for the types of missions we’ll take. I’ve read both of your files, and I worked with you before, Ghost.”

Ghost gives a small head motion to confirm. He worked with Price when he first became Ghost many years ago, and a few times when he was known as Simon. Back then, things seemed so different.

“You’re a cold man, Ghost, but you know how to get the job done. You also trust Gary, or would you prefer Roach?”

“Either is fine to me outside of missions. On missions, Roach only.”

Price nodded and continued, “Ghost trust you. The loner asks to have you on any duo missions and is very grumpy when he doesn’t get it his way.-” Roach smiled under his balaclava as Ghost made a noise of disapproval. “-Your file says you’re great on stealth missions and are a team player.”

The captain paused while he looked over at the two once again in thought. “Excuse me if this is personal, but I must ask. You two, you’re soulmates, right? What kind?”

The two glanced at each other, surprised by the question. They knew this question would come up. It always did when they were recruited for something, especially something as large as this. Some in the military saw soulmates as a good thing, something that strengthened the bonds between two soldiers to make them more efficient. However, some saw it as a bad thing, something that would weaken and distract soldiers. 

Some people thought it could be either way too. A romantic soulmate was seen as a distraction. Their loving feelings would get in the way of their rational thinking, leading them to protect each other rather than focus on the mission. A platonic soulmate was seen as a strength. A way to bond with each other, increasing the likeliness of success.

“Romantic,” Ghost finally said, shaking his drink in his hand to hear the sound of the ice clanking against the glass. “Is that a problem?

The captain shook his head. “No, No, not a problem at all. Just something we need in the files,” he explained. “Our other two members, Gaz and Soap, are platonic soulmates. I myself am platonic soulmates with another member of Task Force 141, Laswell.”

“Soulmates are not a problem for me or any of the other members. Now, you two joining is up to you. I’ll give you time to think,” Price said, reaching for the files.

They joined. It took about a week of talking to each other about it, making sure they were making the right choice for them before they finally agreed. Then it took almost another week for them to finally meet the rest of the couple. It was decided they would meet back at the pub.

Ghost and Roach got there first, sitting at a table large enough for the group in the back of the pub. Roach was not a drinker himself, and Ghost preferred not to be in busier places so it wasn't common for the two to be seen in pubs. However, the business of this specific pub made it look less suspicious for the group to meet up. 

"You need to loosen up. You're tense," signed Roach. 

Unlike Ghost, Roach decided to take off his mask for this. He didn't mind people seeing his face, like the Brit did. Gary never pushed the subject, being his choice, but he would tease the other with his body language.

Ghost waved a hand in the air, looking at his reflection in his drink of choice. “You know that’s not going to happen. Why push it?”

 “Because I want to see you be more comfortable. We’re meeting our new team, who we may be with for a long while.”

A silent laugh left Gary’s lips when the other took a drink of the alcohol. Well, tried to at least. He forgot to pull the balaclava; the front of it was now covered in bourbon. Irritation filled Ghost’s eyes, placing the drink back down on the table.

The American reached into his pocket and held something out to the other man. The Brit looked down to see the plain army green one owned and worn by Gary on missions being offered to him. Having the choice of a plain balaclava or one that was covered and smelt like alcohol, he picked the plain, whether it suited him or not.

“Oh hush, Bug,” the Brit playfully warned as Gary continued to laugh. He leaned over the other with narrowed eyes. The American pushed forward, banging their heads together.

“We interrupting anything, boys?”

The two looked over at the owner of the voice to see the other had got here. Four more people joined the table as the two men separated again from each other.

Ghost looked over at the new people. They both knew Price, and he knew Laswell. This was Gary’s first time meeting her face to face, but they had worked on missions together before. Neither of them knew the two new members. Gaz and Soap.

Gaz was the youngest of the couple, just about a year younger than Gary. From the file, they knew he had worked with both Laswell and Price not too long ago on another mission. Along with a named Alex and a woman named Farah. Ghost wondered why they weren’t asked to join instead of him and Gary.

Then Soap, what a stupid name. He acted like he had never seen a day of war in his life, overly positive. However, Ghost knew better from watching Gary over the years. Sometimes it worked better to just ignore all the bad things you had been through. At least, that’s what Gary had told him one night.

"Ghost and Roach," Price introduced the two to the others. "I'm sure you too remember who is who from the files."

Ghost shook his drink a little as he nodded. "Gaz-" He nodded at the youngest. "-and Soap, right…" Instead of ending in a question, he started to trail off. 

His eyes met with Soap's as he spoke. Just like when he met eyes with Roach, more color filled his world, starting with the blue of his eyes. His mouth ran dry, and his body moved before his brain could catch up. Gary watched the older man walk away, eyebrows furrowing together. He looked over at Soap, wondering what that was about.

His breath got caught in his throat as he figured out what it was about. The blue of Soap’s eyes filled his world. He saw purple out of the corner of his eyes, but there were still parts that were void of color. He made a split-second decision.

“I’m sorry,” he hurried to sign before walking away to speak with his, no, their other soulmate.

Johnny MacTavish, also known as Soap, believed a lot of things. He believed he would be making a difference when joined Task Force 141. He believed things could only look better after his last failed mission. He also believed his soulmate would not run away from him. He also believed he would only have one soulmate. At least three of those beliefs were wrong.

“What just happened?” Laswell was the first to speak, looking back at the ones left at the table.

When her eyes fell on Soap, she knew. Her face dropped, and she looked over at Price. His eyes were wide as he stared ahead at the empty seats, unsure how to react. Beside him, Gaz shifted and leaned over, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, hey, what happened?” He asked, trying to break the other out of his shocked trance.

Soap looked away from the stops from where the others were once sitting. He could see color. Browns, blues, reds. There were still a few locked to him. Was it green? Could he not see green? Or… who knows? The names of colors were hard to remember when you couldn’t see them for most of your life.

Blue came into his life when he met eyes with Ghost. Then he ran away from the table. Roach looked confused at first, but then he met eyes with the other. More colors came into his life with browns and reds. Then Roach also left.

“Well,” Soap tried to find his words. “I have more than one soulmate, romantic soulmate, and they both just left.”

Gaz’s hand on his shoulder turned into a grip, a strong one. Price gave Gaz a look, telling him to stay, and Laswell reached over to place a hand on Soap’s. It was one thing to have one soulmate reject you, but to have two soulmates at once reject you was something else.

Price reached over and placed a hand on Soap’s other shoulder with a small forced smile, "Give them some time, son. It's a change for all of you." His words sounded empty

Soap sighed softly, rubbing his face. When the day started, he was actually excited to meet the rest of Task Force 141, his new teammates. The Scot had already met Gaz, his platonic soulmate, and he thought nothing could go wrong. Now, he was in a crowded pub, and his romantic soulmates left him. His chest felt tight, and he left small. The steady flow of people coming in and out of the pub didn’t help.

Gaz sat up straight when he noticed the other’s hands going up to his hair, ready to tug at the mohawk. He stood up, pulling Soap up with him.

“We’re going for a walk, sir. He needs to get somewhere quiet.”

Price nodded as they walked away, not waiting for a response. Gaz held onto his shoulder to lead him through the count and outside the building. The younger man couldn’t help but look around for either Ghost or Roach or both of them. Neither was around, not that anyone saw if they had left the pub or not.

When looking around, Gaz saw a park not too far away and decided to lead the Scot that way. The Scot half leaned on his platonic soulmate, trying to get his heavy breathing under control.

At the park, they walked down one of the main traits lit up by the streetlamps above them. No one was out at that time, and the only noise around was the wildlife. Soap was starting to calm down, and Gaz smiled when he saw that the other wasn’t trying to pull at his hair.

“Hey, you know what I thought when I first saw you?”

“Huh?” 

The two decided to stop at a bench near the other side of the park that they entered. “I thought you were an odd man. The smile seemed odd to me. You know, with our line of work at all. My second thought was, well, I’m sure you know what it was.”

The Scotsman chuckled. Unlike romantic soulmates, platonic soulmates just knew they were soulmates at first eye contact. No need for fancy color changes. Only simple eye contact.

“I didn’t know what the feeling was at first,” admits Soap. “It wasn’t until Price first mentioned Laswell and their relationship. I never knew there were didn’t there were different kinds of soulmates.”

The Brit snorted. “Well, everyone does worry about their romantic soulmates. No one thinks of platonic soulmates. My grandma told me about them. She had one, and I heard they were closer than grandma and grandpa were. I never got to meet him.”

They sat in silence for a while. Soap traced the lines of Gaz’s hand to keep himself calm as Gaz looked around the park. His eyes fell on something across the road from them.

“Soap, why don’t we go over to that twenty-four-hour restaurant over there?” The younger one asked. “You could use something to keep your mind off that pub.”

Soap hummed a little and looked up at the restaurant. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Oh, and Soap,” Gaz reached into his pocket as they both stood up.

“Hm?”

“I think this was Ghost’s,” he grinned, holding out a damp balaclava with a skull face printed on it. “Make them talk to you.”

Gary closed and locked the door of their flat behind them. A frown came to his lips as he watched Ghost fall back onto their couch with a groan. He shook his head a little and looked around their home, taking in the new colors. There were still some grays so was there a fourth member out there? Hopefully, meeting them goes better than meeting this one.

“I fucked up.”

The American looked back at Simon, studying him. He had pulled off the balaclava and thrown it elsewhere. Gary sat down beside him and grabbed one of his hands, squeezing lightly.

“What?” Simon asked when he saw the other was staring at his face.

Gary cupped his cheek, rubbing his thumb over one of the many scars. His eyes were still gray, and he frowned at it. He just wanted to see his eye color like Simon could see his.

“Hey now,” Simon chuckled softly when his lover pressed a kiss against his jaw and nuzzled his neck.

The Brit wrapped his arms around the other, pulling him into his lap. They stared at each other for a while before the older man moved first to press their lips together. He followed Gary’s lips when he tried to move away.

Needy, thought the American as Simon continued to show affection. So needy.

It became a game to them. Gary would try to pull away as Simon followed his lips, pulling him closer. The Brit tilted his head a little more, opening his mouth slightly. The American copied, still pulling away slightly.

“You’re being difficult,” Simon let out a small groan, causing a chuckle to leave Gary’s lips.

The Brit was the first one to pull away with a sigh. He hid his face on the other’s shoulder. “We shouldn’t have walked away like that… I shouldn’t have walked away like that.”

Gary let out a hum in agreement, reaching up to run his fingers through the other hair. Simon continued, “We’ll hopefully see him again,,, soon. I need to talk to him.”

The American took the older man’s head in his face and studied him. He smiled a little and kissed his nose before pulling his hands away to sign.

“I’m sure we will since we are on the same task force. I’ll go with you, to make sure you don’t run away again.”

“I did not run away,” Simon tried to start. “Okay, okay, I did. Now, where were we?” Gary let out a small laugh before pressing their lips together again.

It was almost a week later when the team got together again. It was on the base for their first team training session. After the session, they decided to go to a less popular but still good pub to get to know each other. Gaz showered and dressed the fastest, leaving the three soulmates together in the shower/changing room together.

Gary looked up at Soap from the bench he was sitting on. The younger one was wearing only his underwear and was busy drying his hair with a towel. The Scotsman looked like he wanted to say something, but he just sat by the American. The older man was dressed in pants only, leaving his torso bare.

His body was covered in scars, just like the rest of their bodies. He wasn’t as scarred as Ghost or Roach did, but still had plenty to be noticeable. Soap had two scars under his chest, similar to Ghost’s.

“You’re staring,” The Scotsman said.

Roach blushed. “Sorry,” he signed before looking away, rubbing the back of his neck. “And sorry for running like that before.”

The older man chuckled softly, reaching over to pat his back. “No worries. If I remember correctly, you weren’t the way to run away. You followed.”

Roach chuckled silently, looking up at the sound of the water turning off. Ghost stepped out of the shower, looking at the two on the bench, before turning away to grab a shower. They all remained quiet for a while as Ghost slipped into pants. 

The youngest looked over at the sounds of rustling. Soap was reaching into his pocket while staring down at the ground. He pulled a mask out, and Roach recognized it as the one Ghost left at the pub. 

The Scot looked down at the mask, tracing the lower jaw of the mask. Over the week, he thought about this moment a lot, and he wondered how he would go about this. But now, the moment came, and he was lost. He made up his mind when he saw the oldest of the three reach for one of his masks.

“Ghost,” he stood up, “you left this at the pub.”

Ghost turned, meeting his eyes. He stepped closer by a few steps before reaching out to take the mask. They both gripped the balaclava while staring at each other. The Brit was silently admiring his blue eyes while Soap was hesitating on letting go.

Roach watched on the sidelines, fiddling with his hands and tapping his foot in thought. The room felt tense around them for a few seconds, but the tension fell as soon as Ghost reached up to cup the other’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

Soap smiled a little with a small laugh, for relief, leaning against his hand. The American stood up and took a few steps closer to them. The Scots glanced over and held one arm up.

“...”

Gary smiled and took the invitation, wrapping his arms around his bare torso. His smile widened when he felt Simon step forward to hug the two of them. The Scotsman pressed his face against Gary’s brown hair, leaning into the embrace.

It may be hard at first, but they would figure it out. Ghost knew they would. After all, he and Gary always did, so why would it be any harder with another soulmate added into the mix?

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 58- Absolution

Summary: Jo comes face to face with the past. A suspicion is confirmed. An invitation is given. Jo and Craig indulge, maybe a little too much. Lee overhears something that gives him a wake up call. He confronts one of his troubles. Lee, Jo and Craig all get the shock of their lives. Jo doesn't think twice to sacrifice but in the end, it didn't even matter.....

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, self pleasure, alcohol use, smoking, gun use

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

March 23, 2022

Boston

Rain drizzled down your fogged up windshield as you silently sat in a distant daze, listening to the familiar trickling sound that brought back the memory of your first kiss with Lee in his car. A kiss so soft and so sweet, you could still feel his tender lips and taste the smooth traces of Crown Royal he had consumed that night. Whiskey. That damn whiskey that, according to Gerry's relayed rumors, caused Lee to have possibly hooked up with Angel in his drunken, vulnerable stupor. Letting your head fall back against the car seat, you sighed and cried along with the sobbing sky as you closed your eyes. Your whimpering voice then softly sang a few lines from the famous and catchy Johnny Cash song, only your version became a broken-hearted ballad.

"The taste of love is sweet when hearts like ours meet. I fell for you like a child, oh but the fire went wild. I fell into the burning ring of fire. I went down, down, down and the flames went higher and it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire. The ring of fire..."

Pulling yourself together, you cleaned up your raccoon eyes then focused on what you were about to do. Face Peter. Before you had went to see Gerry, you did something that you would probably pay the consequences for later, which was calling Luke to see if he could pull some strings for you regarding the visit. In doing so, you had to swallow your pride over what happened between the two of you and also swallow your anger over his involvement in what happened to Lee's parents, for you would save that mess for another time. Luke was your only option because you knew you could have never asked Gerry, for he would have turned you down flat while scolding you with his Scottish slang about how crazy you were. Luke also risked facing Gerry's wrath as well for helping you, which that took some coaxing in getting the newly sworn in officer onboard with your unexpected request. Honestly, you figured Luke would laugh and hang up on you after your last encounter with him. Hell, you thought he wouldn't even answer your call at all but he did...and on the first ring. You explained to him that you needed to see Peter and that it had to be today before you lost the nerve to go, but that wasn't all. You wanted to be able to see Peter privately, face to face, with no window of separation so you could show your abuser that you did not fear him, although...you did fear the true identity of Peter, Heinrich, very much, for that side of him was a spitting image of his terrorist father Cesar. Your hopes were that it would make you stronger. Of course, Luke was against the idea at first and it wasn't because it could put his job in jeopardy and he didn't call you crazy either...it was because he was concerned for you after you broke down and confided in him about what Peter did to you. It was then that he understood your need to face him with little restriction, for Luke too, felt that way about his own abuser...his apathetic father.

Pulling out your phone, you opened a previously received text from Luke that simply stated "The deed is done. Enter at your own risk. Please be careful."

While staring at it, just as you had when you arrived in the prison's parking lot, the feeling of falling punched you in the gut harder than it had the first time. It was real now. All you had to do was make your cold feet warm up and move.

"I.D. please and then sign in on the visitor's log while I confirm this pre-arranged visit." the corrections officer responded after you explained the situation. "You can then put your personal belongings in the lockers and when the inmate is brought in, you must walk through and pass the body scan before entering the room. You will then have 30 minutes and a guard will remain present due to the prisoner's high risk status. A 6 foot distance is required and touching is not permitted."

Nodding, you bit your bottom lip as it quivered, then proceeded to hand him your license and sign in. As your hand trembled something fierce, you scribbled out your name, the time of 7:03 PM and the prisoner's name you requested to visit. Heinrich Faison, Peter's legal name.

Once you finished, you laid the pen down and that's when you noticed Peter's true name two entries up from your spot. Sliding your finger across the line to the visitor's name, a soft gasp forced your lips to part when you saw the name Sam Colin written in a very similar handwriting to Lee's, only the S was more serpentine with the other letters angling more to the left, almost as if the person were left handed. Not only that, but sham Sam had just been there shortly before you with a sign in time of 5:55 PM. Knowing only the little bit you knew of Lee's once dormant past, you were still 100% certain he remained highly proficient in his hidden skills and that he would still have contacts to aid him because Luke surely was and did.

Staring at the alias until the letters blurred, you instinctively picked the chained pen back up and discreetly brought it to your nose, searching for a trace of Lee's ever so potent Drakkar cologne that would consume the air in any room he was or had very recently been in. Nothing. Not a single hint of it could be detected. Would there be though? After all, if it was Lee who had been there, he clearly didn't want to be identified which is why you also knew you couldn't ask the currently distracted officer who was in the process of verifying your credentials.

Laying the pen back down, your eyes were then pulled to another name. Brad Wu, a young Chinese ex-physician currently serving a lengthy sentence for his dealings in the organized crime world as he was the nephew of Selena Wu, a ruthless Queenpin of one of the five families, the Triad. You and Jason knew him well because he was also Britt's best guy friend who, like Craig because of his father Cyrus, was forced into the dark underworld because of his blood relation to the mobstress. It wasn't Selena though who had visited Brad 3 hours prior. It was a man's name that, for some reason, sounded all too familiar. John Winchester.

Startled back to reality by the guard's voice, you were told your visit was approved and to proceed through the metal detector. Once through, passing with flying colors, your anxiety was now fueling your racing heartbeat as you were led to the private room where the rotten apple that didn't fall far from the terrorist tree would be waiting. The only difference between Peter and his father was Cesar Faison was sadistic psychopath where is Peter was a masochistic sociopath.

You now faced the ghost of the past. as he sat bound to a chair. Peter clearly was not told who his visitor was because his dark eyes lit right up with both surprise and delight when you walked in. Nothing had changed. He was still as delusional about you as ever. Just the sight of his devilish smile and the sound of his wispy voice was like the sensation of a thousand pins piercing every inch of your body. "Josephine? You came to see me. I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away."

"You're as beautiful as ever." he continued as you stood frozen beside the guard. "I love how your hair falls over the one side of your shoulder. It's so much longer now. Please...come sit with me. We only have 30 minutes. I have so much to say to you."

"I'll stand. The further away from you, the better and all you will get is 5 minutes, maybe 10, which is way too generous on my part after all that you've done to me. You have no idea how nauseated I feel right now just to look at you."

Anguish crippled his smile. "Josephine...you...you don't mean that. I..I love you. I'll be free of this place someday and I promise you, I will make everything up to..."

"SHUT UP!" you snapped as you bravely walked up to the table. "WHAT is WRONG with you??? You will never be free!! You drugged me, kidnapped me and locked me in a morgue drawer! I almost died!! THEN you were going to take me to another country against my will and make me a prisoner for the rest of my life. THAT is not love you deranged lunatic! Do you have any idea what your actions have done to me??? I still have nightmares. I am terrified of storms and the dark and I can't even get in something as simple as a fucking elevator without having an anxiety attack! And let us not forget, you shot me! I can't have children because of you!!!"

Peter had then became agitated, desperately struggling against the restraints to stand as he pleaded with you. "That was an accident! You know that! I was trying to save you from my father. He was going to shoot you Josephine! Just like he would have done that night if he would have found you with me. That's why I had to hide you in the drawer!"

"You never came back!! I ran out of air!!!"

"That's because of that boyfriend cop of yours! He screwed everything up. I had no choice to leave. I knew he would find you and that you would be alright and he did and you were!!"

"You are sick Heinrich. Just like your father!"

"Don't say that to me!! I am not him! I tried to shoot him when he was holding that gun on you at the hospital!! I never meant for the bullet to hit you!! You know that!!"

"Well it did! NONE of that would have ever happened if you had chose to be a good person and cut him out of your life like your sister did! Britt despises you too you know. You had us both fooled at one time and I despise you as well. How stupid was I to ever believe there was good in you??"

"The feeling has become mutual for my dear sis for sleeping with the enemy. You say you despise me too, yet here you are. Why not just stay away and ignore me like you have been??"

"I came here to face you and tell you to leave me alone! Stop trying to contact me. I never want to see or hear from you again Peter and I need you to HEAR ME for once. Let ...me...go. You will never have me. I feel nothing for you but disgust."

"All so you can be with that upstanding doctor?? You don't even know who he is!! I have been trying to tell you. I wrote you letters. It's his own fault his parent's were targeted and he killed my brother for it! And just look at my hand! He did this only hours ago and..."

You glanced at his bandaged hand, feeling no sympathy. "I know exactly who Lee is. He told me all about his past. Whatever happened to your hand and your brother, you both deserved it. You deserve to be exactly where you are. Were you and Cesar not in Salem that night to go after my brother??? Lee too?? It is YOU that I did not know."

Peter's eyes darkened as he leaned forward. "WE were at the hospital to find Britt and to seek refuge because once again, that meddling cop of yours had tracked us down and from what I understand, YOU followed him, so who's fault is it really that you got shot??"

"Well well well. It was only a matter of time before the sociopath surfaced. Time's up. I am so done here. That hand of yours looks pretty painful. I can only imagine what else could happen if you keep stalking me. If there's one thing I learned from my brother... No one's safe in prison."

Turning to leave, Peter's words sent your heart into your throat, but you didn't dare stop to look at him, for it would only verify to him that he was right.

"Oh Josephine...do say hello to Jason for me."

You barely made it to your car as your anxiety kicked in full force. Frantically tugging your sleeve up to reveal a rubber band around your wrist, you began to harshly snap it against your skin. It was a new trick that Craig had told you to try because he said it had helped his mother. Apparently the pain would distract her from her despair and offered much quicker relief than trying to focus on the senses and strangely....it was working to calm you too.

Now you knew that Jason and Britt were right to leave when they suspected Cyrus was onto them. Not only had Peter verified that Lee had been there but somehow...he knew Jason was alive. Lee never would have told him. That you would bet your life on, so your other bet was Cyrus had told Peter while he was in prison since they both shared a mutual hatred of your bother and that meant Peter had known for awhile.

You quickly called the last number Jason had texted you from, but as usual, it had been disconnected. He went through burner phones like underwear, but why hadn't he reached out to you with another? Could that be why you hadn't heard from Jason at all?? Had something happened to him??? And where was Britt? Her phone was completely off. Your only option now was to go to Jason's bff... Craig.

Salem

Craig had spent his afternoon chasing down another lead on his daughter, but like the other times, it led to a dead end. As he returned home, tortured, thirsty and in need of a friend, you to be specific, he stopped at your door to leave a sticky note upon it since he knew you were not there.

"Jo, Really need to see you. Wine? My place? Please stop by when you get home. -C"

Entering his apartment, he sulked and paced and drank the red liquid that would only depress him more. He then turned on the music, ear thumping loud just like he liked it. Craig enjoyed all kinds of music, but his usual go to was the softer side of rock, 70's mostly with David Bowie being the prominent preference, but this time he just hit shuffle in his uncaring state. Of course, the selection that played only added to his misery. It wasn't about Blaise though. It was about you, for the lyrics smacked him in the face just as hard as you had once before.

It used to be when I'd see a girl that I liked, I'd get out my book and write down her name. But when the grass got a little greener on the other side, I'd just tear out that page but then I fooled around and fell in love. I fooled around and fell in love. I fooled around and fell in love!! I fooled around and fell in love since I met you baby. Free, on my own, that's the way I used to be but since I met you baby, love's got a hold on me. It's got a hold on me now. I can't let go of you baby. I can't stop loving you now.

For a good half hour, Craig chose to torture himself and placed the song on repeat as he rapidly medicated himself. Soon, he dozed off in the chair only to have an arousing dream of you and the throbbing between his legs instantly awoke him.

On the borderline of both inebriation and needing a release, he then chose to take a cold shower to cure the agonizing ache but all the lathering of soap over his brawny body by his own hands only worsened the massive stiffness below him.

"Damn it!" Craig groaned as he placed one hand on the the wall for support and firmly grasped his cock with other, beginning to slowly stroke the ticking time bomb.

Closing his eyes as the sandalwood scented shampoo rinsed from his hair, creating soapy waterfalls that gushed over his sculpted shoulders, his mind tuned out the muffled music and went to the time you had tried to help him off the floor, but slipped in the paint and fell on top of him. Your mouths had been so close that he could still smell your cherry chap stick and he could still feel the petite curvy form of your body as both of your hearts pounded against each other. With his heart now pounding once again, the slow squeezing pace of his slippery strokes had become deeply intense. From base to tip, he quickly brought himself to climax, loudly panting, moaning and groaning through every jerking pulse as he watched his pearly essence shoot against the wall.

After another rinse over, he reached to turn the water off and that's when he heard your shouting voice through the music.

"Craig??? I saw your note! Your door was open! Are you ok??"

His eyes wide, he opened the shower door and peeked out. "Jo?? Yeah, yeah..I..I'm fine... H..hold on. I'll...I'll be right out."

Half ass drying his body and hair with a towel, he stopped to stare in the mirror, lightly gulping as he wondered if you had heard his pleasureful cries.

"Fuck" he whispered as he frantically struggled to slip on a satin robe and pants set over his damp body, then pulled himself together and walked out with an out of thin air and very cheesy explanation if you were to ask about it. In his line of work, he had become accustomed to lying and was damn good at it...but he couldn't do it so easily with you. It was still eating at his very soul that he knew Lee and Ethan were still legally hitched. Did it even really matter if Lee hadn't put a ring on your finger? Craig figured he would just cross that bridge when or if he got to it.

It took a moment for you to find your words when Craig appeared before you, wearing a black satin robe, wide open in the front revealing his perfectly smooth defined pecks and abs that shimmered in the soft lighting from the moisture.

Grinning at your reaction, Craig confidently swayed over to shut the music off. "Something...wrong?"

Your words finally came out in a stutter. "N..n..no...I...well. I've clearly interrupted your shower...I..I should p..probably g..go."

"Come on now Jo. Nothing to get all frazzled about. I've seen yours and now you've seen mine."

Your eyes popped. "Www..what??"

Craig chuckled and changed his course to the wine, pouring 2 glasses. "Your nighty, remember? And now you've seen me in my night attire."

"O..ohhhh." you laughed in relief. " that... well...I'm not frazzled."

Yes you were. Extremely. Did you really think a man of Craig's stature and physique would wear anything else but satin to relax in?? Afterall, the mob man wore enough silver to ward off witches and werewolves and bathed in a woodsy scented cologne that transported you deep into a fairytale forest.

"I just didn't expect to...to um...catch you in the shower...are...are you ok? I...I heard...."

"Oh that!" he swiftly expressed and handed you the glass. "Yeah, damn funny bone. Hit it on the shower handle. Not so funny though. Hurt like a bitch."

"Yeah, agreed." you smiled. "Sorry for just walking in. As usual, your music was too loud for you to hear me knock and I just figured with the invite from your note that I..."

His heavenly smile and baby blues softened, almost in a sad way. "Jo..it's completely fine. I'm really glad you're here."

"Ok, well. I know you said you're ok physically, but...are you ok...otherwise? Your note said you needed to see me and you seem...I don't know. You were playing a love song on repeat. What's wrong Craig?"

Hating to do it, he harmlessly fibbed again to keep his undying love for you a secret. "Oh that little tidbit. Damn player gets stuck sometimes. Happened when I was in the shower. Anyways, I don't want to bore you with my problems. What about you love? How was your day after the night you had? You feeling better?"

"Well, let's see. After you left earlier this afternoon, I found out I was single via Facebook which I should have already figured that after Lee's cold words to me yesterday AND then I was informed that he had another round of drunken sex with someone he claims to loathe...but I don't want to talk about that. I just can't process it right now of how little I really meant to him."

Both of his naturally arched brows arched even more as both shock and disgust raged through him, but he hid it well. Another talent he had mastered for necessary reasons. "Jo I...sweetheart, I am so sorry. Forgive me for even asking this, but...do you know who that someone was?"

It was like you could read his mind in that moment. "Oh god no. Craig, it wasn't Ethan. You know I would tell you if it were because of the situation with Blaise and how she and Ethan are both missing. It was that skank neighbor of his."

Craig's anger could no longer be concealed as a sarcastic rampage rolled out of him. "Ahh, the red porch light bitch who was carelessly watching my daughter when she disappeared. Lee knows what it's like to lose a kid but I guess his other brain didn't give two shits when it came to fucking the person partially responsible for my missing child. It might as well HAD been Ethan that he screwed or hell, even Lizzy when she was alive!!! No difference!"

Your response was soft and sympathetic. "I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I told you I didn't want to talk about it."

Feeling remorse, he downed a newly poured glass of the red liquid and sighed. "No Jo...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blown up at you. I just can't fathom any of it. What a fool. Being lucky enough to have the love of a woman like you and then cheating on you, especially with lowlife trash like that tramp. I mean, just look at you. You're a fucking goddess in my eyes. A queen if I may. If you only knew...."

Realizing his pathetic and embarrassing words of impairment followed by an almost admission of his feelings, Craig clammed right up and went to pour another drink, feeling your eyes upon him.

"If..if I...only knew...what?" you squeaked.

He released a soft chuckle as he brought the bottle to refill your glass. "Aaaaaand, I should really shut up now before this truth serum gets me into more trouble. Sooo, how about we talk about something pleasant?"

Feeling flattered, yet awkward over his descriptively sweet admiration of you, you quickly obliged to his request. "Craig...I...I went to see Peter today."

He slightly choked on his wine, knowing he had just ordered "Negan" to take the trash out. "You..you did?? Alright. Well...I think I can understand why you went after all that you told me about him earlier today, so I'll just ask you then, are you ok? Did it help?"

"It didn't seem to at first, but now, I feel different. Absolved maybe, of many things. Anyways, regardless of your note, I was on my way to see you. Have you heard from Jason at all??"

The fear in your voice stiffened his stance right up. "I haven't. What's going on Jo?"

"Peter...he made it very clear that he knows Jason is alive and I called the last number he texted me from and it's out of service and before Jason left with Britt, he told me he believed that your dad knew too which is why they left and..."

There was no hesitation to Craig's commanding interruption. "Eh eh eh, don't call him that. Cyrus or soulless blood sucking vampire will do just fine. Let me make a quick call."

Craig bee-lined to a drawer, pulled out a phone that you knew from sight was not the one he always used and pushed one button...and from what he said to the other person, you knew it was Sonny Corinthos, the Don of the Northern Seafront... Craig's, Jason's and Jeffery's boss who all 3 were fiercely loyal too.

"It's me. Our suspicions were correct. Cyrus is aware as is Peter August....Yes, the source is credible."

Craig then walked into the back room and all you hear was his muffled voice as he continued the conversation. While he did that, you sat and nervously gulped down 2 glasses of wine and even lit up one of Craig's cigarettes, for your emotions were all over the place with all that had happened in the course of 24 hours.

About 15 minutes had went by and then you heard Craig's voice before he reappeared. "Affirmative."

"Well?" you anxiously asked as Craig walked in, sniffing the air with furrowed brows.

"Were you...smoking?"

"Sorry. Nerves. I just had one."

"It's fine love. Have all you want. Anyways..."

Craig paused and lit up his own smoke. You could tell he was reluctant to tell you what Sonny had said. "I am to let you know not to worry and that it's not a situation you should be involved in. Sonny will handle it....his words. Sorry. I tried Jo."

Fuming, you sprung to your feet. "That condescending son of a bitch! Not to worry or be involved?? He's my brother and he could be in trouble or..or.."

Your anger then turned in to sobs. "Or really dead this time."

Craig rushed right to you and placed his hands tenderly upon your cheeks. "Hey, don't think that way ok sweetheart? You know how resourceful Jason is. This isn't his first rodeo. What I think is that he is protecting the woman he loves and they are probably shacked up in one of Sonny's many safe houses until he feels it's time to resurface and he's probably protecting you too by not contacting you."

"But...but..." you sniffled. "He's not immortal Craig. If it weren't for you saving him before, he would have died then. He has no one to help him now."

"Jo, remember who he is. He has many connections and he's being cautious by not reaching out to the obvious ones. As much as you despise Sonny, he loves Jason and will use all of his own resources to find him."

You pushed him away. "Right, like all the resources you have and cannot even find your own daughter!"

You unintentionally had gutted him. The way he looked at you and then let his eyes fall away as he remained speechless made you want to wrap that rubber band around your head and snap it against your facetiously impulsive mouth.

You desperately but gently laid your hand upon his stubbly cheek and coaxed him to look at you. "Jesus, oh my god Craig. I did NOT mean that, I swear! I am SO sorry! I don't know what's wrong with me anymore. Things just fall out of my mouth when I'm upset and..."

He took your hand and slowly pulled it down to meet his other hand to hold yours inside the two as he softly smiled. "I know you didn't or you wouldn't be so sincerely apologetic.. but it's still the truth all the same. I...had a lead today about Blaise and...it fizzled as usual."

Briefly closing your eyes, you sighed and squeezed his hands. "So that's why you wanted to see me. You needed a friend and I just made you feel a thousand times worse. I'm such an asshole."

"Jo, we all say things we don't mean. You and I should both know that by now and you're not an asshole." he chuckled. "You're just beyond stressed. I get that."

Still holding his hand, you led him to the small table bar. "Stressed and losing my buzz. Come sit with me and talk to me while we get shitfaced, yes? I'm so over this day."

"Shitfaced huh? You don't have to ask me twice for that love."

It was now 10 p.m. Two hours had gone by while you and Craig emptied three bottles of wine as he reminisced about Blaise and happily shared many good memories and baby photos with you. It made him glow to say her name and speak about her and that made you so happy. His eyes twinkled like stars the entire time. His smile stretched from ear to ear and his laughs were hearty and plentiful. For that short time of normalcy, reality didn't exist and it was quite alleviating, especially to see Craig just be himself...in the song sense, a simple kind of man, something you could love and understand.

A 4th bottle had gone and 11 p.m. soon came. Craig was feeling good. Way too damn good as he had drank the majority of the wine. Enough so that his speech was slurring and he was rather clumsy, falling off the bar stool in the middle of a laughing fit which had you laughing so hard you snorted, for you too, were feeling way too damn good.

Drunkenly diving forward from your stool, you plummeted to your knees beside him to try and help him up. "Alright. Someone's clearly had way too much wicked wine besides me. Let's get you up Mr. Parker."

"Wait, wait, wait. Did you just... snort???" he asked in all seriousness as you uselessly tugged at his hand.

"Did I?" you answered with a a question as you giggled and accidentally snorted again.

Laying dead weight on his back, Craig bellowed in laughter and what a glorious sight that was, for he had long since taken the robe off and simply bore the black satin pants. "Well, unless one of those little piggies got in here that John is after, I do believe it was you sweet..." he hiccupped, "tart...I mean sweetheart."

You tilted your head. "John? You mean, Jeffrey right?"

"Seriously." you chuckled and took his hand again. "Let me get you into bed."

You stupidly set yourself up for what happened next as he pulled you on top of him and slyly grinned like a fox while his buff arms snuggly locked around your back. "Well now, that sounds like a plan."

The heat of his sweet breath and bare upper body took your breath away as the tips of your noses united. Once you were able to sever the hypnotic gaze he held you in, you tried to wriggle free as you giggled. "You know that's not what I meant. Now come on. Let me go."

The foxy grin momentarily returned, then it faded as he gazed at you. "Not until you tell me why you're the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen?"

You frowned and broke eye contact. "I can't because it's not true."

His brows pinched together. "She don't know she's beautiful? Is that what you're trying to say? Don't be coy now. You've got a convoy of men at your beck and call. I should know because I'm one of them."

Your eyes locked back onto his. "Yeah well, then why am I not good enough?"

"What?? What do you mean love? Are you referring to that demon of a nurse named Angel? She's a warthog with lipstick who's ironically been pumped more times than a farmer's well."

You hysterically guffawed and snorted into Craig's neck who released a gleeful chortle. "You know I'm right Jo. Now look at me."

You raised your head, still carrying a lingering smile as he continued. "You...are....fucking....phenomenal. Even your nose is beautiful." He then tapped the tip of your nose. "BOOP! Bee...eee...ayyy...utiful."

Your eyes widened. "Really?? Did you just boop my nose like I'm a baby??"

"Why yes I did and I'll do it again. BOOP!"

"Oh my god." you playfully sniggered. "Alright. GET UP."

"Nooooo." he whined with a grimace.

"Ok, then I'll make you."

You dug your fingertips into his ribcage on each side and aggressively tickled him.

"GAHHH!!!" he shrieked and shoved you off, then staggered to his feet panting. "HOLY HELL NO!"

"HAHA!!! Got you up."

He winked. "Yeah well I can think of easier ways to do that."

"Go. Now. Get in bed before you fall again and break a hip."

"Ooooh ouch. I'm not that old."

"No, but you're trashed and that'll do just as much damage. Bet you'll have a nice hefty bruise on your ass tomorrow."

"I'll be sure to show you if I do."

"Please don't." you giggled and and tried to pull him down the hall, but he slipped free of your grip and successfully trotted over to the stereo. "Craig, come on. What are you doing?"

"One song. One dance."

"What?? No Craig. I'm tired. You're sauced."

He took your hand and gave pitiful puppy eyes and a pouty lip. "But we're having fun. You make my shit life worth living. Please...dance with me."

You rolled your eyes. "Fiiiiine. ONE dance."

As he eagerly pulled you close, one hand on your upper back, the other on the small of it, the music began. You let your arms raise over his broad shoulders and placed one hand on the back of his neck and the other just below it. Slowly, you both moved in a perfect circle, eyes intertwined until he lowered his head to rest his sizzling cheek against yours. Closing his eyes, Craig began to sing in a whisper into your ear.

"So long, I've been looking too hard, I've been waiting too long. Sometimes I don't know what I will find. I only know it's a matter of time. When you love someone. When you love someone. It feels so right, so warm and true. I need to know if you feel it too. Maybe I'm wrong. Won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong. This heart of mine has been hurt before. This time I want to be sure. I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life. I've been waiting for a girl like you. You're a love that will survive. I've been waiting for someone new to make me feel alive. Yeah, waiting for a girl like you to come into my life..."

Your eyes closed as the song went on, allowing yourself to take all of his closeness in. His scent, the way he felt against your body, the lyrics he now mumbled.

"When you love someone. Yeah, I really love someone. Now, I know it's right from the moment I wake up 'til deep in the night. There's nowhere on earth that I'd rather be than holding you tenderly."

You had to wonder, did he mean them? Or was he just singing? You were pretty sure you knew the answer and you were also pretty sure he purposely chose the song to help him express his feelings.

Sliding his cheek along yours, he now faced you, resting his forehead upon yours. His dilated eyes fluttered open and he traced his fingertips tenderly down your jawline, ceasing them under your chin as his feet also ceased and then...his lightly parted lips crept towards yours. Your eyes closed, anticipating their touch and just as they were close enough to tickle your lips, he swiftly pulled back, releasing you all together.

Craig placed one hand on his hip and the other to his mouth, his eyes glassy and wide. "I...I...think I'm going to be sick."

Off he swerved down the path to the bathroom with you chasing after him, but he swiftly shut the door before you could follow him in.

"No Jo, stay out. You don't want to..."

He paused and then you heard the upchuck. Roughly thirty seconds of silence went by in which you became concerned. "Craig???"

He did not answer so you had no choice but to defy his orders and went in. There he laid upon the cold tile, on his back, knees bent and his arm draped over his forehead as he gazed at the ceiling.

You immediately knelt beside him, feeling great empathy, for you had been in his position many times. "Oh Craig sweety, come on. Let me help you up."

In his humiliation, he said nothing and humbly accepted your help. Once he was in bed, he sighed and smiled, then turned onto his stomach to prop himself up. His lids were heavy as he tried to look at you sitting beside him. "Well that was absolutely embarrassing."

You softly giggled and placed your hand on his. "Hey, you've seen me in a bad way before, so now we're even once again. Why don't you lay back and try to sleep this off. I'll stay to make sure you're alright."

His slitted eyes fully opened. "You...you would do that for me?"

"Of course I would. Look at everything you have done for me Craig. Let me go turn off the music."

"No, please. Leave it on. It helps me sleep. I..I don't like the silence."

"Oh, ok. Let me at least get you some water."

You came back with an ice packed glass of water to find him still awake, but laying on his back under the covers. It made your teeth hurt to watch him gulp it down in less than 3 seconds.

"Ahhhhh." he sighed and sat the empty glass on the nightstand with a wobbly hand, then laid back down. "Hits the spot. Thank you Jo, for taking care of my drunk ass. It means a lot to me. You....mean a lot to me."

His eyes became heavy once more and as he desperately tried to fight it, he mumbled himself to sleep.

"I fooled around and fell in love. I fooled around and fell...."

"Asleep." you whispered as you gazed upon him, feeling rather melancholy and confused, but your mind was too scrambled by booze to sort it all out.

You laid down, keeping your distance from Craig and soon enough, you also passed out.

It was 6 a.m and Lee had just finished the last half of his shift at the hospital. He had earlier chosen not to go in due to the prison visit, but he wanted to keep busy instead of drinking himself into oblivion once again, for it was only taking a toll on his anxiety. The only problem was that it didn't keep the thoughts of you away. There was no absolution regarding you, no matter how much whiskey he drowned himself in, but he was certainly tempted to try as he sat in his office, repeatably glancing at the caramel colored liquid upon the table.

Giving in to only take one hefty swig, he gathered his things and headed out. As he was leaving, he unfortunately overheard the gossiping nurses speaking with Angel and he froze solid at the mention of your name. Concealing himself in a darkened hallway, he soon learned that you were seen in the ER for a severe anxiety attack, but the entire conversation was mostly revolved around how Craig was with you and how damn hot he was and that he and Orlando exchanged bitter words.

Immediately, he made his exit out the back to avoid Angel and ran into someone far worse... Gerry, who was walking across the parking lot. The two rivals glared each other down in their passing until Lee grabbed the detective's arm at the last second, spinning him around.

"The next time you put your lips on a woman, make sure she's available and that it's reciprocated."

Gerry looked down at his arm and then back up at Lee with a cocky grin. "Oh it WAS reciprocated. Even got a little tongue action. I'm on duty. I suggest you remove your hand before I take you in for assault."

Lee snickered and released him. "Judging by your face, looks like someone else beat me to the punch."

Gerry chuckled as he lit up a cigarette. "Yeah, you should see the other guy. Hey, you know him pretty well Doc. The tough guy ex WSB agent who thought he could fuck with me just like you think you can do right now. You know, you really should watch him when it comes to the woman you speak of. She has this tendency to have men wrapped around her sweet little finger. Gets them to do crazy things. Trust me, I know."

Lee bravely stepped forward. "I don't fucking like you."

"Hey hey hey, I like you even though you're the one who actually cheated." Gerry riposted as he blew smoke in Lee's face.

"What the fuck do you mea....you know what, never mind. It's too early in the morning for your fucking circus. Leave Jo alone. Your badge is nothing but a piece of tin in my eyes."

Lee snatched Gerry's cigarette straight from his lips and took a long drag, then crushed it beneath his foot and retreated.

Gerry scoffed and yelled back as he too walked away. "Can't do that bro. I had her love first. Remember that."

Once in the car, his entire body shook with rage as he white knuckled the steering wheel. Pulling his flask out of the glove box, he sucked it dry and then regrouped, for his main concern was your well being right now. He would deal with Gerry later if needed.

Lee then called you to see how you were doing. When you did not answer, he figured you were either sleeping or ignoring him but it didn't matter...he had to see you, for in that moment, his guilt sucker punched him over how poorly and unfairly he had treated you. Would it be too late? Would you offer him no reprieve after his heartless words? Had he pushed you too far this time? Would you choose Gerry eventually?

As he approached your door, he hesitated to knock, fearing either a slap in the face would be served or even worse, laughing in his face considering he believed he had it coming...but he would weather the storm to make sure you were alright. After multiple knocks, he decided to call you once again and when he did, his head whipped around to the sound of your ringtone coming from inside the apartment door across the hall.

Ending the call, Lee slowly made his way to the door and then he stood there in the silent hallway, listening, but all he could hear was muffled music from inside the apartment.

"Jo?" he called out as he knocked, which jimmied the unlatched door open.

Cautiously, he pushed it open to see a dimly lit empty room filled with the scent of your vampire perfume and cigarette smoke which left a floating fog in the air.

"Jo???" he called once more, but when he received no response, he stepped inside to look around.

Bottles of wine sat on the table where your purse and phone laid, blinking from his call and beside that was a full ashtray and two glasses, one revealing light sticky chap stick residue that formed visible lip imprints around the rim. And on the floor was a silky robe. Lee's heart sank into the pit of his stomach when he realized what he would soon find.

He turned to the lighted hallway and forced his feet to move. With great stealth, he followed the path that led to an open door and without hesitation, he walked inside.

It was instant, the devastation and heartbreak riddling his face and the sting of tears welling up into a glistening pool, clouding his vision. What he saw he could not unsee. You, sound asleep on the bed with your arm slung over your snoring shirtless landlord whom he assumed to be naked under the blanket that covered you both from the waist down.

As Lee moved closer to the side you were on, his furtive skills had been disabled from the shock along with the ability to think or react. Whispering your name was all he could do before he tripped over your boots that laid before his feet and stumbled into a picture frame upon the wall, knocking it off.

Your eyes blinked a few times before completely opening and then you saw him. "Lee??? Am I drea..."

Realizing it was no dream, you sprung to your feet with a screeching gasp which in turn awoke Craig. Although half awake, his mobster mode kicked right in and in merely seconds, he had a gun pointing right at Lee.

Without hesitation, you raced in front of Lee. "NOO! Put the gun down Craig!!!"

"JESUS!" Craig shouted in panic as he dropped the weapon. "Don't you EVER step in front of a gun Jo!!! What the fuck were you thinking???"

"Yes Jo...what were you thinking?" Lee calmly whispered, causing you to spin around to face him.

"To not let you die???"

"That's not what I was asking. I'd gladly take a bullet to kill this pain."

Tilting your head at him, you finally realized what was happening. "Oh noooo. No, no, no Lee. This is not what it...."

Craig interrupted with an angry growl. "What in the hell are you doing in my apartment! AND at 7 in the fucking morning?? How did you get in here?!!!"

Lee's eyes darted to him, slitting like a snake. "It opened as I knocked. You should be more careful with that. After all, there is a reason you carry a gun isn't there?"

"And here I thought I was the wise guy." Craig snapped as he put the gun away and tightened the drawstring on the pants Lee assumed he was not wearing. "Although it's MY bedroom, I'll show myself out to relieve myself after this fiasco. I don't take kindly to intruders. Be gone when I get back Dr. Pace. Next time I won't be so nice."

Craig stormed out and Lee just stared at you as if he was looking right through you. "I suppose I expected this with Gerry but with this guy? Wow, you really got me there."

"Yeah, just like you really got me too when you slept with Angel!!"

Lee's brows furrowed and then it finally clicked as to what Gerry meant by saying Lee was the one who actually cheated. "Now wait a minute. I don't know what you heard or think but..."

"Shut up! I don't even know why you're here. You ended us remember?? Fuck forever?? Back to single on social media the very next day?? All because I was honest with you about Gerry and everything else that day at the cemetery but honesty is something you know nothing about AND for fuck sake Lee. I just stood in front of a fucking gun to protect you without a single thought for my own life and THIS is all you can think about?? Even if what you think happened here DID happen, it's technically none of your damn business anymore now is it??? So let me give you a taste of your own medicine Doc...FUCK FOREVER!"

The physical pain of Lee's anxiety was written all over his face and as you sped past him to leave, purposely banging the door against the wall, he had to briefly cover his mouth in fear he would hurl right then and there.

Successfully keeping his vomit at bay, he then turned and raced off after you.

*to be continued........................

@redeemer46

[themuse-if]

A polycule with all the Rebel Rejects?! Say no more I may feint from joy! jokes aside that would be cool, BUT as I've come to learn writing and coding PolyRoms can be insane and taxing so while yeah cool and desired I can enjoy this game 100% without it. Since I'm here I'd love to get the RO's reacts from being gifted a self made teddy plush (or whatever their fav animal is) from the MC.

Anyways I hope you're doing well, sending good vibes and well wishes your way.

Hey! Yeah I'm sure it'll be quite the task, but I think it'll be a really fun path to write even if it is pretty challenging. Everyone is so excited about it which just makes me want to write it that much more! Ok moving on to this super cute scenario! Let's say that they are already official and this is the first gift MC is giving them while dating. And they're just hanging out in MC's dorm room.

Roxanne/Robbie: *MC hands Ro a handmade wolf plushie* Aren't you just as sweet as can be. *grabs MC's chin and places a soft kiss on MC's lips* Thank you. *looks deep into MC's eyes* This is one of the sweetest things anyone has done for me.

Joleen/Johnny: *MC hands Jo a handmade dog plushie* Oh! Oh wow it's so cute. You're... just...how're you so great? *gives MC a sweet kiss on the cheek*

Delphine/Desmond: *MC hands De a handmade turtle plushie* This is so adorable, just like you. Now I need to give you something. Are you hungry? *MC says yeah and tells De what they're craving* Ok let's go to the store I'm making you dinner. *grabs MC's hand as they head out*

Rina/Ren: *MC hands R a handmade tarantula plushie* Thanks. It's really...*cracks a smile* creepy cute. *MC asks if they like it* What do you mean? *tackles MC, and looks down at them* Of course I like it. Plus you made it with your own hands, which just makes it that much more special. *gets shy and scrambles off of MC*

Everly/Everett: *MC hands Eve a handmade dog plushie* A token of your affection, handmade just for me. *wipes a faux tear* I am in awe and truly touched. *MC cracks up laughing* I really do love it though. I'm going to take it everywhere and make sure everyone knows that it was made just for me by MC. *gives MC a lingering kiss*

Karla: *MC hands Karla a handmade cat plushie* Thanks babe. *cheesy grin* It's so cute, you're so cute. How did I get so lucky? *sighs, and traces thumb over MC's lips* You're just...never-mind I don't want to get to sappy.

Faye: *MC hands Faye a handmade chinchilla plushie* OH MY GOD! This is so freaking cute! You made this? Oh my God. *gets teary eyed* Thank you...so much. Sorry I don't want to make this weird, it's just rare that people do things for me... *Hugs MC super tightly, pulls back and tries to laugh of the serious moment* You're too sweet. *boops MC on the nose*

Sebastien: *MC hands Seb a handmade lion plushie* Mon cœur ne supporte pas autant de soleil. You continue to amaze me. *pulls MC in for a sweet, but firm kiss* Let's go out you, me and notre petit lion. Suddenly I'm in the mood for something sweet, my treat of course. (roughly translates to my heart can't handle that much sunshine and our little lion)

Maxine: *MC hands Max a handmade hedgehog plushie* I love it! The perfect addition to my little collection. How many have you made me now? One for every birthday since you learned how...so this is 4. I will continue the theme of naming them after famous actors. There's Helena Hedgeman Harter, Halle Hedgeberry, Hugh Hedgeman, and this one will be Heath Hedger. *MC and Max erupt into a fit of laughter*

Silas: *MC hands Silas a handmade dog plushie* Thank you MC. *pats MC on the head* This is very sweet, I'll put it somewhere safe. *MC asks Silas what he means* What do I mean? I mean I really love it, I just can't let anyone see it, not yet. I don't want anyone asking questions, ending up with us getting caught. I really like you, we just have to stay under the radar until you're no longer my advisee. *pulls MC close and give them a soft kiss, and sighs* Thank you for being so understanding.

[woozapooza]

The google doc where I draft my posts is brimming with partially-written Sopranos posts, but it's also got this one draft that has been complete since...like January, maybe? I don't even remember. I don't know why it's taken me so long to post it, but here it is now.

*****

I was thinking some more about the idea (which I wrote about in my s5 wrap-up post) that Silvio and Melfi (1) play complementary roles in Tony’s life in general, and (2) give Tony comparable advice in “All Due Respect” in particular. It occurred to me that not only is their advice comparable—they both argue that Tony is merely feigning noble motivations for protecting his cousin, and they both urge him to confront his true motivations—it’s actually perfectly complementary. Both the “false” and “true”* motivations that Silvio discusses are externally focused, whereas the ones that Melfi discusses are internally focused. In his speech defending his decision to protect Tony B., Tony S. had invoked the code that all these guys live by and for which they hold each other accountable: “We are a family [...] So we are gonna deal with this as a family, together.” It’s an argument based on interpersonal relationships and group values. Silvio, however, contends that it’s “not about standing with the guys or upholding some rules,” but the alternative explanation he offers is still situated outside Tony’s head, if that makes sense: “You don't wanna bow down” (to Johnny). It’s about “pride,” which is inherently about how Tony is seen in other people’s eyes. From Melfi’s perspective, Tony’s “false” motivation is “affection” (his word, which she echoes) for Tony B. Affection is an internal thing, a feeling, not a mode of behavior or a shared value. His “true” motivation is his “guilt and shame” over failing his cousin all those years ago, and this too refers to something primarily internal. I guess there is a pride element here as well in that what happened the night Tony B. was arrested is something he’s very much not proud of, but since Tony has never told the true story to Tony B. or anyone else other than Melfi, I think it’s fair to say that it’s mostly about how Tony sees himself, not how anyone else sees him.

What I’m getting at is basically an ethics (Silvio) vs. morals (Melfi) distinction. And of course it makes perfect sense that their assessments would complement each other like this: Silvio has a front-row seat to Tony’s leadership, he knows the code that he, Tony, and their bros all live by, and he knows Tony as a member of a community; all of that is only an abstraction to Melfi, but she knows things about Tony’s psyche that even his closest associates like Silvio don’t know, and she knows Tony first and foremost not as a member of a community but as an individual. I just think it’s so fascinating how they’re so coordinated in this episode without having the slightest clue of it. It makes me want to see both of them advise Tony at the same time. That would be fun. I wonder how that would go!

*Scare quotes because as I said in the other post, while I think Silvio and Melfi are both onto something, I also think they’re both unfairly simplistic in their assessment of what’s really motivating him. He can have noble AND selfish motives at the same time.

[kisha-myers]

This fanfic is a fem-reader. Sorry for the confusion and not specifying I'm a noob when it comes to this 🥲

If you want to be apart of the tag list, PLEASE let me know via a DM or by commenting below!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CALL OF DUTY NOR ITS CHARACTERS/OPERATORS

TW: Abuse, alcoholism, depictions of DV, and Kidnapping- they're vague and brief for the most part but if you're someone who struggles with that kind of thing then PLEASE do not read.

Chapter Four: Johnny Johnny - Yes Lieutenant?

You weren't entirely sure how long it had taken to get onto base, you were too lost in your thoughts to really be concerned about it. Your mind was a cacophony of erratic thoughts, a haphazardly blended mess of the harsh reality you currently resided in. You were so out of it you didn't even question how they got you onto base without your identification card. In this moment you were trying to fight within yourself, to keep yourself calm no matter how viciously your heart thundered in your chest. That little voice in the back of your mind that some likened to a conscious took no time in listing all the horrendous possibilities that could be in store for you. You'd seen the news articles about women being murdered by unhinged military men - you weren't unaware for the most part of what others were capable of.

Perhaps your anxiousness had started in your early years, from the persistent drilling into your head by your own father about staying vigilant and prepared. He had certainly done his best to paint gruesome pictures into your skull of the very many things men, in particular, were able to do to someone of your stature. It only got worse as you got older and went through puberty.

In the back of your ambiguous memory vault you recalled the first time a boy had ever come to your door to ask you to one of your schools dances. Roy Martin, a boy you had spent countless hours with in the library studying together during free period - you liked him enough that you were willing to accept his request, excited even, until your father showed up from work. You still remember the way his eyes narrowed in suspicion, his military training to read a person's body language kicking into overdrive as he scanned Roy from head to toe. You'd be lying to yourself if you said he wasn't scared - Roy had practically pissed himself at the barrage of question your father fired off at him.

'When is the dance? How long does it last? Will it be adequately lit? Are there chaperones? What's the dress code? What are your intentions with my daughter?' You found it embarrassing at the time, having your ex-military father bombard your classmate like that over something you'd found so simple, benign even. Your father of course, thought otherwise. He'd sat you down at the dinner table, the polished oak covered in printouts of victims of domestic violence, assaults, even kidnappings. The pictures you recalled, unsettled you so much you ended up throwing up. Hours he had you spend at the table, examine each picture with a fine tooth comb as he detailed what had happened.

'Men are pigs sweetheart. They'll use and abuse you until you have nothing left to give them. It's why I've decided to put you in martial arts. No more tennis - starting tomorrow you'll be spending a your time at the dojo learning to protect yourself.' That revelation had made you so angry you launched yourself from the table so hard and fast your chair toppled over, the hard Crack of the wood against the laminate floor echoing through the room.

'What!?' You cried out, utter disbelief evident in both your tone and twisted facial features. You shook your head fervently, refusing to believe that he could do this to you - tennis had been your coping method for quite some time now, and to think he'd be so cruel as to rip that from your grasp over a boy... well it was enough to send you over the deep end. That was the first time you had ever spat the words 'I hate you' to him, effectively silence any and all responses he had ready to give you. The hurt that had crashed through his eyes had your heart shattering into multiple pieces, but you were too angry at the time to really care. That was also the same night you learned that your father was a raging alcoholic, suffering from ptsd that the VA refused to help him get treatment for.

The yelling, you recollected, had been terrifying. Your mother had come home later that evening, tired from her twelve hour shift at the local hospital, to find your father passed out in a pool of his own vomit in the kitchen. A bottle of Hennessey Whiskey still grasped in his hand. The argument ensued once she had shaken him awake, berating him for being so careless; What would you have done had you discovered him in that state? Worse yet, what would your little sisters have done? Needless to say that that night you didn't get much sleep - you were far too wound up from such intense emotions you couldn't process thoroughly yet on your own to calm your mind long enough to relax.

Your mind continued to spiral, bringing up memories you'd long since forgotten - funny what the mind was capable of doing to your own psyche. Your fingertips returned to their caressing of the fabric seats as the humvee crawled to a stop, using your sense of touch as a way to distract yourself from your always wandering mind. The fabric, you decided, was almost the equivalent in texture to the fur of a raccoon. Not too soft but not too rough - a strangely functional texture that both made you relax and feel uncomfortable. A conundrum, you mused, as you let the pads of your finger tips migrate lower. The feel of chilled though smooth pleather both confused and intrigued you, sparking your curiosity - you weren't sure why though, it was common for vehicles to have both per seat.

Perhaps it was because you had assumed consistency with the fabrication of the vehicle in which the manufacturers would simply have the fabric continuous to its base. It had made sense to you in the moment, however now that you let your mind drift down this path, you surmised it would be better to have a material much easier to clean should the need ever arise. You could imagine the gruesome things this particular piece of heavy machinery had seen, but you refused to dwell on it lest your mind conjure up nameless faces of lives lost whilst inside its steel framed interior.

You inner turmoil was cut short, graciously so as the humvee finally came to a full stop. Painful LED lights illuminated the helipad you'd arrived at - why they had stopped here you'd never know, nor did you particularly want to. You simply wanted rest - at least you'd hope that your mind would calm enough to allow you some moments of solace. You predicted that it wouldn't be so, but the hope remained regardless. König glanced back at you as Ghost clambered steadily from the vehicle, slamming the door with enough force it rocked slightly. He released an noise from the back of his throat that you assumed was done from being unamused by such an calloused act of masculinity. Whether intentional or not, it left you wondering just how strong the man was to be able to make such a large and seemingly immovable object such as this move like that.

You pushed those thoughts aside for now, opting to put a pin in it and return to the subject when you had at least a few hours of sleep under your metaphorical belt. Your eyes peaked up through your lashes at König, watching as he scanned the area seemingly leisurely. You figured this was the way they operated out in the field too - one of them being in the fray of things whilst the other remained out of the way, a lookout of sorts - perhaps a sniper considering he wore the hood of one. You could picture him as one, holding the rifle in his rather impressively large and languid hands, perched high up in a tower or even a hill, shrouded in foliage.

You weren't privy to know the details of what Johnny did as a member of his task force, all you knew was that the team itself was incredibly important and many foreign governments relied on them. Johnny was a naturally bubbly person though he had a way of being serious that sent a shiver of unease down your spine. You'd seen him flip that switch several times, and each time it was scarier than the last. That was the way of a soldier, you concluded, being able to flip that switch to turn off needless emotions. It wouldn't make much sense to have a bubbly killing machine frolicking through the daisies on his way to annihilate the enemy.

You suppressed a giggle from the image you'd conjured up of Johnny clad in his tactical gear skipping merrily through a meadow of wild flowers, laughing his obnoxiously loud laugh gunning town hostiles. You pressed your lips together, nibbling on them with your teeth slightly, wanting to keep the smile from your face - how were you to be cross with the very man you were just daydreaming about platonically when you couldn't keep a straight face?

A hand on your thigh brought you out of your humorous daze, your eyes narrowing in slight offense at the gloved skeletal hand touching bar skin. Slowly you moved your gaze to meet Ghost's hazel ones, raising a brow slightly in question - you had been so far out of it you hadn't even heard your door being opened nor the way he had cleared his throat twice.

"Captain wants a word with you before Johnny takes you to the barracks. Won't be long, he's straightforward enough to get his point across." You simply gave him a curt nod in response, carefully wrapping your fingers around his impressively thick wrist, and removing his hand from your thigh. The fabric of his gloves, you noted, was softer than you'd assumed - the material reminding you subtly of fleece or maybe it was velvet? You wondered, for a moment, if there was a specific purpose for this - was it easier to clean? Did he have poor circulation? Did his hands get easily cold? You didn't know, and you weren't brave enough to ask him outright. Perhaps you could pester Johnny about it later - if he didn't have to be apart of this meeting though you naturally assumed he would be.

Ghost carefully stepped back, removing his wrist from your grasp far gentler than you could have ever imagined the brute could manage. He rested his left forearm amongst the top edge of edge of door, his right gloved hand being shoved into his pocket as he nodded his head to the right - you took this as an indication he wanted you to exit and go off towards on of the brightly lit pop up buildings just left of the massive landing pad.

You climbed out of the vehicle far less graceful that he did, stumbling slightly once your bare feet made contact with the rough asphalt. A chill ran up your body, feet immediately going cold from the frigid touch of wind that blew against your bared skin. You hadn't realized your slippers had slip off your feet whilst you were in the throws of a minor anxiety attack,, something you were sure you'd be irritated over later when you were alone in the barracks. A shiver left your body trembling for a moment, goosebumps rousing across your flesh like domino's being tipped over. You were definitely berating yourself for not dressing warmer though you knew it wasn't exactly fair to do so - how were you to know that your complex would suddenly burst into flames due to an imbecile? Ah well, there wasn't anything you could do about it now - you were already here in the now, you might as well make the most of it.

Quickly your feet carried you to the building Ghost had indicated to you from behind, calling out what number in particular would be on the building and subsequently, which office to go to. You were familiar with this section however, Johnny had taken you here during his half-assed tour of base to meet his Captain - it had amused you at the time, now? Not so much. You hadn't the foggiest idea as to why Captain Price would want to speak with you - hopefully you weren't unintentionally in trouble, you couldn't handle a scolding from a man you equated to a father figure even though you weren't one of his subordinates.

Your bare feet slapped against the foux marble floor, your eyes downcast like a petulant child preparing for the worst scolding of their lives. Your face remained somber, though your teeth worried your bottom lip every so often. The closer you got to his office, the more your stomach wishes to reject its contents in its entirety. Yes, you decided, you would definitely start taking your medication the moment you got to return to your apartment.

Ghost watched her walk away, his eyes lingering slightly on the way her hips swayed - he liked it, more than he'd care to ever admit out loud. He closed the door to the humvee, shoving both hands into his pockets as he did a 180 turn, leaning his back against the very door he had just closed. König climbed out of the vehicle, going over to Ghost and mimicking his stance though opting to cross his arms across his chest.

"She's anxious - about what your Captain wants to speak with her about." He observed, his glacial eyes returning to the very door you had just disappeared through. Ghost merely grunted in agreement, his eyes scanning through every face hunting for the obnoxious sergeant he so badly wanted to strangle. He may be crass and curt, incredibly blunt and hostile most of the time, but even he knew to never stand a woman up. He wasn't a ladies man - he didn't do callouse one night stands often, nor did he exactly date - König and his relationship being the exception to all of his rules due to him being an active member of KorTac and understanding what this line of work consisted of.

Johnny on the other hand was the absolute definition of a man whore. If it walked, talked and showed an interest in him, he bedded it -truly it shocked him on how (at least he assumed) that Johnny hadn't slept with you. You were a stunning creation, a skittish little masterpiece of the best kind - the Mona Lisa to his Leonardo da Vinci. The more he contemplated reasons as to why Johnny wouldn't have wanted to bed you, the more confused and, albeit annoyed he got. His silent brooding was interrupted by a fist bumping into his shoulder, an indignant grunt passing from between his lips as he glanced up.

There Johnny was, in all his detestable glory, sending a wink off to a curvy brunette with disheveled hair. Of course he had been getting his rocks off - it'd fully explain why he was late to meeting them here.

"Lt, König, where's the lass gone? Scared her off, eh?" His Scottish brogue breaking through the tense silence, his happy-go-lucky unbothered tone sending both masked men into a boiling fury.

"You and I need to have a word, Johnny, about how a gentleman treats a lady." Ghost replied, his voice dropping a full octave and sending a wave of dread through the Scot. He simply nodded, effectively gulping before following along behind his superior, shooting a 'save me please' look towards König who simple gave back a wave.

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish, was certainly about to learn a valuable lesson, one Ghost and König both knew he'd never forget.

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