#Chris is done with your OP shit

[kirkenovak]

I’ve watched the Dungeons and Dragons movie too many times for it to be healthy and I decided to make it everyone else’s problem.

Honor Among Thieves/Dreamling crossover?

The Endless exist in the DnD setting but they don’t concern themselves with the affairs of gods and mortals, they just ARE. They exist outside the planes and influence all of them, albeit in different ways. They aren’t worshipped and usually aren’t well known.

Dream and Death do their visit to the mortal realm and meet Hob Gadling, Dream and Death have their bet and Hob becomes immortal. Now, in the DnD, unnaturally long lives aren’t that unheard of. There are elves who had already been adults when Hob became immortal, who are still alive. Arguably, Hob could pass himself off as a weird half-elf hybrid and no one would be too surprised he’s been knocking about for several centuries. But a human that not only lives long but doesn’t die? At all? No matter the manner of death, no matter the damage done to him, he just gets up again and keeps on trucking? No. That’s not normal. That shit’s weeeeeird. You don’t want to be advertising that unless you want every evil wizard warlock lich sorcerer and whathaveyou knocking on your door. So Hob still has to hide.

He of course still meets Dream every 100 years in the inn (every paladin and cleric with divine sense in the area does a little >_>). He still pretends to be his own son. He still does hundreds of different things. He still has a fight with Dream that causes Dream to walk out on him. He still buys the White Horse and waits for Dream. Dream is still captured by Burgess, a mighty wizard who really REALLY wants to conquer death but doesn’t want to be an undead because yuck.

Meanwhile, Xenk Yendar has met Hob in his travels several times already and is absolutely not buying the “I’m his son, I’m the son’s son, I’m the son’s grandson” excuse but Hob seems harmless, commits no evil acts (that Xenk knows of *coughscoughs*) and doesn’t register as anything otherworldly or undead so Xenk leaves him alone. That is until he walks into The White Horse one day, sees Hob for the first time in years and immediately senses that this is a temple, the land is consecrated, this man is the priest. The problem? A priest of what exactly? Normally it’s not really his business but given that Hob is a bit shady to begin with, it just doesn’t seem right. He asks Edgin for help, after all, who better to charm and swindle his way into Hob’s good graces and get some answers than a professional conman/thief/ex-Harper/bard who just doesn’t do magic, no seriously, what’s the deal with that.

This is where Ilmater decides to intervene. Sure, normally he wouldn’t stick his Devine nose in the matters on the Endless but he is the god of suffering, and both Dream and Hob are suffering, albeit in different ways. He sends his favourite paladin a vision of Dream and Hob, who then confines in Edgin and his crew and so, the DnD version of the fishbowl heist is born!

Starring: Xenk, the hottest paladin in existence; Edgin the spell-less bard; Edgin’s barely concealed lust for Xenk; Doric the most OP wildshape in existence; Simon the Sorcerer (no not the game, the game is great tho. Available on iOS. Try it. Starring Chris Barrie of the Red Dwarf fame as the voice of Simon. It has a sequel too tho not as good); Hob Gadling, the immortal but he can’t reveal he’s immortal and also has no idea who Dream is or what his true nature or even name is… wow he’s kinda useless in this setting and nobody trusts him; and Holga the carrying everything on her broad shoulders.

[luvleeknowie]

ᴡᴄ: 3358

ᴛᴡ/ᴄᴡ: ᴅᴏᴍ!ᴄʜᴀɴ ▪︎ ꜱᴡɪᴛᴄʜ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ▪︎ ꜰᴀᴄᴇꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ▪︎ ᴏʀᴀʟ (ꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍ ʀᴇᴄɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ) ▪︎ ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ( ꜱʟᴜᴛ, ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ, ʙᴀʙʏ) ▪︎ ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇꜱ-ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ʙᴜᴅᴅʏ? ▪︎ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ.

(ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢꜰᴜʟ) Qᴜᴏᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ: "ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏ. ʏᴇᴀʜ!"

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The door to the classroom bangs open to reveal Chan. Bang fucking Christopher Chan. He's standing near the doorframe with his bag swung over one of his shoulders. The teacher abruptly stops from whatever it was they were writing on the board and gives a piercing stare at the boy.

"Bang Chan, might as well have waited until class finished before returning." The teacher says sarcastically.

Chan halts in his steps.

"Yeah no, I was actually thinking that but I decided to come just in case...however if you insist-" He says turning on his heels.

"Bang... Christopher...chan.." the teacher says, gritting her teeth.

"If you think you are sooo damn funny, how about you stay back after school to clean up this entire classroom. Miss a bit and you'll be back tomorrow to do it again. Understand?" She says, retuning to the board.

He grits his teeth but takes a seat nonetheless. About 10 minutes later, the bell rings, and chans the first one on his feet.

"Hey guys, you know what funny?" The teacher says, poking her tongue in the inside of her cheek. "

"How I didn't ask anybody to get out of their seats. This is the last time I'm gonna tell you: the bell doesn't dismiss you, I do." She says.

"And don't think for a second that I forgot about the homework. Hand it in, in register order. Only after the first person puts their essay on my desk and leaves can the second person get up, this way I can have a clear view on who has done their work and who hasnt."She says, smiling devilishly.

"Fuck! There was homework?!" I whisper yell at my friend, Yeji, beside me.

"Gurl. I messaged you about this last night. Don't tell me you..." Yeji face palms.

Chan snickers as he gets up to put his paper away and leave. Asshole. Yeji also gets up to put her paper upfront. I try and act as if I'm looking for my paper in my bag, you know the saying "fake it till you make it"? Well that's basically my life motto.

"Kang Y/N." The teacher calls out to me.

I wear ms bag before walking to my teacher, with my head hanging low.

"Let me guess. Your dog ate it again?" She says, her arm crossed and her feet tapping the carpet floor.

"Y/N, this isn't you're first nor the second time. Hell, it isn't even the third time but seventh!!" She yells.

"Gosh, its your seventh time forgetting you're homework this month." She sighs emphasising the word 'month'.

"Sorry Miss, its just that-" She cuts me off.

"Uh- I don't want to hear it. You can join Chris later today." She says.

I take a quick glance at the doorframe to see chan holding his stomach, whilst laughing hysterically. Just you wait till this idiots done with me Christopher.

"Get out of my classroom! Next, kaeo yuruki." I walk out the classroom.

"My dog ate my homework." Chan mimicks, giggling to himself as I walk past. It takes every single cell in my body, not to punch that stupid grin off his face. That handsome yet equally annoying face.

Time skip~

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The final school bell rings, the teachers and students stampede out of the building. I do too when suddenly Yeji stops me.

"Y/Nah, you've got detention, remember?" She says.

"I'll just skip, what's she gonna do anyway? Call my parents? Exclude me?" I reply reassuringly.

"That's actually not a bad idea Y/N." A voice booms behind me.

Shit. What's she doing here?

"What're you doing Y/N? I thought I made it clear that you're cleaning the classroom. Go on now, I have to get home within 10 minutes. Here are the room keys, the caretakers leave at approximately 5pm and baring in mind that the room usually takes 4 grown adults to clean youll probably be here till 6." She says shoving the key in my face.

I bow before heading back. Yeji gives me a sympathetic smile before leaving. I open the classroom door, and boy was it a mess. I begin tidying up the teachers desk. I hear the classroom door open and then close shut. I turn around to see Bang Chan.

Me and him have never really been on good terms. When I first moved to this school, he asked me out and I rejected him infront of the whole school, baring in mind he was the most popular kid in school. This ruined his pride, self image and more vital aspects that keeps one at the top of a school hierarchy. Ever since then, we have been naturally sworn enemies. However, a very noticeable difference is that he was the most sought-after boy in the whole school - rich, handsome, smart, and athletic. Everybody wanted to be with him while I was just...me. A normal middle class girl with average grades, average friends, average body and average image.

He just walks in, shuts the door and plops himself on one of the decks, watching my every move like a freaking hawk.

"You got anything better to do than stare at me like a freak?" I ask him, rolling my eyes.

"Actually, no. Not when you look so fucking sexy while wiping the desk I'm gonna use to fuck you later." He replies, just as I was gonna look back.

Well that was....direct?? And random??

I feel a pair of arms snaking around my waist and soft lips brushing against the side of my neck.

"Ch-chan..."I stutter, as my bottom lip quivers.

He releases his hold on me and chuckles to himself.

"What wrong baby? What do you want?" He asks teasingly, placing small kisses on my neck.

"I want...please." I whimper, as his hands travel dangerously low.

Why am I losing control? I hate him. We just don't go well together. What's happening?

"What do you want Princess?" He teases.

"You chan. I want you. I want you to fuck me, eat me, ruin me."

He chuckles to himself before letting go off me. Earning himself a frustrated groan.

"Damn Y/N. Who would've thought that you were such a slut. All I did was back hug you and you already gave yourself in. And that too, to your sworn enemy. How pathetic." He says , smirking.

I mentally curse at myself for giving in so easily. I carry on tidying up the teachers desk before moving on to the students desks with chan just sitting there, awkwardly.

Chans POV:~

I initially didn't think I'd be sitting here, I was just gonna bunk detention however Mrs stupid Park caught me. Plus, I thought itd be fun to tease Y/N while I'm at it. You know?..for time pass. Unfortunately, my plan slightly slopped. That girl was doing a great deal of things to me.

When I first came in, I decided to tease her. A part of me felt bad but it was sexy hearing her whimper for me like that. However, the real deal started when she started to wipe the students desk. She bent down to pick up chewing gum from under the table, which lifted her skirt and revealed her baby pink laced panties. I sit in a really awkward position, trying my best for her not to notice my visible boner. That all changed when she moved towards me and bent down right infront of me to clean the desk I was sitting on. That pretty pussy sticking out with her head lightly bowing beneath me. I could feel my boner hardening to the point where it hurt like hell. Just as I was about to get down to leave this heated room, the sound of a key turning fills the room. Oh shit. I run up to the door and try opening it.

"HEY! HEY! IM IN HERE!" I say slamming on the door but to no avail.

"Jeez, calm down." A voice behind me startles me out of my worry.

"I've got the spare key." She says walking up to the door.

Y/N POV:~

I fumble with the lock for a bit and my face sinks, when the lights on the other side of the door turns off and the key doesn't unlock the door.

"Chan." I whisper.

"Hm?" He replies.

"I think...I think we're locked in." I say looking back at him.

"What? You said- are you sure?" He asks, regaining his strong composure.

I nod.

"Where's your phone?" I ask him sitting on  the nearest chair to me.

"In my car. What about you?" He asks me.

"I left it in my locker, since I was gonna do detention. So are we just stuck here?"

"Yup." He says, simply taking the seat directly in front of me so that we are both facing each other.

We just sit there for a few minutes, literally doing nothing. Just sitting. And thinking. It starts to get extremely hot, so I remove my blazer, revealing my tank top. It was a v-neck, so my cleavage was pretty exposed. I hear a gulping sort of sound, and I look up to see Chan staring down at me, his eyes lingering where they shouldn't for a little too long. I clear my throat, and he averts his gaze abruptly. His cheeks flush red.

"Why are you so shy all of a sudden?" I ask, walking up to him.

It's boring in here, who knows how long we'll be stuck in here for? Plus he teased me earlier so I think we can do with a little revenge.

"Do you not like to look at my chest?" A sudden gush of courage goes through me. I don't know what and why I'm doing what I'm doing, but the reaction on his face is simply priceless. To be honest, I'd be cringing if anybody asked me that question, however his facial expressions says other wise. It's as if he's getting turned on...

I start getting a bit frustrated by the lack of response. Slowly but surely I'll get him to move.

"You know what chan? Fuck it. You're hot. Infact you're beyond hot, you're- fuck. You're a divine. You're visuals, you're voice, you're hands- oh those fucking fingers..." I whisper, slowly losing control.

"Oh really? But I thought I was your "enemy,". He snickers.

"Fuck that." I reply hastily.

"We both now that I'd much rather fuck you." He grins.

"Oh cmere you-" I say, grabbing him by the collar and connecting our lips.

He tangles his fingers in my hair, deepening the kiss. He slowly sucks and bites on my lower lip before sliding his tongue in my mouth. He removes his hands from my hair and gropes my ass, all the while carrying me , and sitting me down on the corner of teachers desk.

"You have no damn clue.... how much.... I've wanted this." He says in between kisses.

I smile into the kiss and he slowly unbuttons my uniform blouse. I copy his actions on his first few buttons before unzipping his pants. I then unloosen his tie. Damn. Just imagining him fucking me with a loose tie and top buttons undone drives me insane. He finishes stripping me until all that's left is my under garments.

He reconnects our lips, before unclipping my bra and letting it fall down my arms. He throws it somewhere across the room. He then gently pushes me down so that I'm laying down on the desk. He looks down at me smirking, before lowers his head down on my clothed pussy and licks a stripe up it. I lift my hip up for him to discard my underwear, which he doesn't. Instead he takes it off and stuffs it in his pocket.

He takes a few moments to just stare me down, his eyes traveling from my lips, to my chest, to my stomach and finally my pussy. He takes a good 2 minutes just to stare and blow at my displayed private.

"What a pretty pussy. All for me." Is the last thing he says before practically diving in. He licks and sucks on my folds. In between every few sucks, he spits on it and watches as the spit swims down my folds.

After a while, I feel a familiar knot in my stomach. Honestly I'm not surprised I was so quick to feel my orgasm approaching. I mean not only is this man's tongue working magic, but his intense gaze on my clit is making me feel all sorts of things. It's making me feel special. As if I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"I'm gonna cum Chan."

I let my cum loose and watch it as it paints chans nose, and plump lips.

"You gonna fuck me now?" I ask, breathlessly. Gazing at his glistening face.

"No." He replies.

"What?" I ask him again, doubting my hearing. Was I not good? Did I make weird sounds?

"I want to taste you. More of you. I mean- if that's alright..." He says wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

I nod at him, and without wasting another second he takes my position on the desk, and lays himself down as I sit up.

"Sit on my face baby." He says. The fuck?

"Sit on your-  wait wouldn't that suffocate you- I don't wanna hurt-" Before I could even finish my sentence he grabs me by the hips and pushes me into his face. My eyes naturally roll back.

"That's right. Put all your weight on me. Suffocate me with that deliciously pretty pussy of yours Princess." He mutters, slurping at my wetness.

His nose gently hits my clit earning a series of moans from my mouth. His tongue explores more and deep into my pussy; one spot in particular catching my upmost attention.

"R-right there baby. Right there." I moan arching my back as he penetrates his tongue in and out of me.

I begin moving up and down on his face, concerns of his oxygen completely leaving my head and being replaced by pleasure. Bliss. Lust.

"Cmon baby. Cum for me." He growls into my cunt, the sensation making me go wild.

After a few more thrusts I release onto his tongue, which he happily collects. He then gathers somem of my cum in his tongue and shuffles back up to eye level before connecting our lips and pushing the excess cum into my mouth. I hum against his mouth.

"That was great! But now it's my turn." I say pushing him back down by the chest. He props himself up via his elbows and stares at me intently. I seductively crawl I over to him, until my face is just above his covered crotch, which by now is evidently hardened. I unzip his pants and take it down with his boxers, all the while maintaining eye contact. I then leave small licks across the base and side of his cock before taking it all in one go.

He wraps a handful of my hair around his fists and guides my head in and out of his dick. Making sure that his red leaking tip hits the back of my throat with each thrust.

"Ahhh~ fuck." He moans, tilting his head back.

The action, motivating me to carry on. I bop my head on his hardened member, rolling my tongue over his slit with my warm mouth around his thick, cock grants plenty of high pitched moans.

"Such a pretty sight. Watching those pretty lips wrap around my cock while I face fuck you."

"Ngh~ oh baby."

"Mmm~ just like that... That's a good girl."

"Ah yes. Fuck yes."

" I'm gonna cum baby. Take in every drop like the slut you are. Go on. Otherwise we'll be here all night until you do so properly."

I feel his twitch in my mouth and not surprisingly he cums. I make sure to take in every last drop.

I swallow his seeds and just as I was about to pull out...

"Yo."

"Yo."

"Yo."

"Yo"

"Chan. Where you at chan?"

"Expose your whereabouts or I'll tell the school that you're actually half 52 and you're disguised as a student cuz you're a pedo."

"Seungmin?" Chan mutters.

"Jisung and hyunjin??" I whisper back, finally letting go of his dick.

"What are they doing here?" I ask.

Before both me and chan could react the classroom door swings open.

"Hey chan? Guess what? So miss freaking Park found us outside and was like, "Yo han, you're chans friend right? Well I can't find any of Y/N's friends, who are way more responsible than you so I guess I'll have to trust you with this instead. And then she dangled a key infront of my handsome precious, lovable, exotic-" han gets cut off.

"We get it jisung get to the point." Hyunjin says, sounding visibly annoyed.

"Well she dangled the key infront of my amazing face and I was all like, "hey miss P, the fuck is that?" And she was like "I gave Y/N the wrong key and now I think she's locked in with chan." And I was like "go do it yourself fat ass but she was like "HAN JISUNG!" and then me and hyunjin and seunmin ran here...After grabbing the key of course. And you know what's the funny part? Well when I was running-"

"Han." Seungmin says tapping him on the shoulder with open eyes.

Me and chan just couldn't move, it was like after shock where our brains were just not braining.

"No, seungmo, let me finish." He says.

"And then I tripped over this massive di-"

"Han..look." hyunjin says this time.

Han finally stops and turns his gaze to us. Before anybody could do anything, hyunjin runs away, and seungmin hides in a locker; well he tries to and han...han puts his empty cheesecake box on his head to mimic a blindfold. He politely closes the door and leaves.

"SHIT."

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Reblogs and votes are much appreciated <3

[snufflepup]

They're some of my favorite! It's hard for me to really pick my favorites of anything (except for people, that of which is you^^<3) off the top of my head though, I like spy x family a lot too. I've read the manga for seraph of the end and plan on watching the anime soon, but it got confusing after they suddenly just kinda went back and saw the first vampire guy when mika died? I think? I really have no clue lol. I have a pretty bad sense of time too, it really sucks when there's so much I wanna do. I'm assuming you haven't seen kill counts? I watch this channel on yt called dead meat, and they give a movie synopsis alongside counting the kills in various horror movies. I think they're pretty funny. Ik that escape room movie, i found it kinda well written and fun^^ I've seen just about everything about omori except an actual playthrough, it seems really interesting. Who's your favorite characters? From what I've seen, I really like Kel and basil^^ I'm not really the best person to give advice on where to start in xmen, cause tbh, I saw a nightcrawler edit on tik tok and got obsessed with him lol. I looked up everything about him so it's not like I know nothing about him or something and I will watch the movies some time, i just haven't gotten to watch them yet. The end of the fucking world is a Netflix show about these two kids who kinda run away and be adults and realize everything's shit^^ James (boy mc) is a psychopath who ran away with Allysa (girl mc) with the intent to kill her and he ended up falling in love and killing a nasty guy that tried to mess with Allysa. Allysa is a kinda blunt girl that a lot of people say has bpd (idk if it's Canon or not) and she's really cool and badass and speaks her mind^^ James for me is totally transition goals lol

Omg like no one irl know total drama, I'm glad you do^^ who was your favorite characters? I love gravity falls too! I really liked the plot and thought it was just the best! I watched Winx and mlp when I was younger, though idk if I was old enough to understand it all :< maybe I'll watch the remake of Winx when it comes out^^ I love good animation- have you seen takt op destiny? It's absolutely goregeous and beautiful, though the plot isnt totally understandable, i feel. I've seen that video recommended to me, and I actually have it in my watch later for whenever I watch the playthrough. I'm glad you might check it out^^ and that at least I can talk to you about stuff^^ sorry this was so long lol

-ike<3

I know how you feel, I find it hard to do the same at times ! (｡>\\<)

Spy x Family is a lot of fun !! I like it a lot too ! I'm . not really up to date with the manga, but I know what's happening . kind of . I also lost track around that time, but !! I think I understand whats going on, at least. I agree, it really frustrates me (◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ )

oooo !! Okay ! It sounds fun ! Omori is really cool. . . It's my favourite game ! I really like all of the main characters. . . It's hard to pick favourites because they all sort of like . plague my mind /pos but ! I think it's probably Sunny and Basil that are my top favourites, but I really love the others ! They are all so special to me

That's fair, I've done that too, with different things ! I only watched voltron because of one of the characters at first lmao I hope you enjoy the movies then, when you are able to watch them !! ^–^

Omgmg it sounds so !!!! I'll definitely watch it ! I'll let you know my thoughts when I do ! I think I liked Gwen and and Mike a lot !! I liked Alejandro and Heather too. . . despite them being like . evil sometimes. I liked Chris too ! Who are your favourites ? Gravity Falls is super awesome, there seems to be something going on with it recently, though I don't really know what but I'm excited nonetheless

I watched them a bunch of times growing up, and I rewatched mlp again a couple months, or at least the seasons on netflix ! I haven't ! I just looked it up, though, and it looks really nice. I think I've seen clips of it because it looks familliar but I'm not really sure ! The video kind of . hit me like a ton of bricks, so, this is a warning I suppose !!

And it's okay ! I know mine can be long too :)

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Chapter 9 Part 2: Ne cede malis

Triggers: none important, fluff at the end

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They drove mostly in silence, with Ghost swerving left and right to avoid a fallen tree here, a bigger rock there, and correcting their path when she indicated a change of direction.

‘‘It was on purpose’’ Riot muttered, her eyes on their surroundings but not really seeing anything, lost in thought. Ghost looked at her briefly from the corner of his eye. She still had the balaclava pulled down to her neck.

‘‘What was on purpose?’’

‘‘Sending us to that building. We weren’t exactly Rico’s favourites’’ She continued, more for herself than for him. ‘‘God knows we didn’t see eye to eye in anything. I was sceptic when he sent us there, I should have trusted my gut’’

‘‘He gave you orders, what could you have done?’’ Soap’s voice came out of the comm, surprising them both.

‘‘Why are you on the feed, Soap?’’

‘‘Everyone else is either resting, checking things or arguing. I volunteered to keep an eye and an ear on my bestest friends in the whole world’’ The Scotman’s voice was as cheery as ever, they could almost imagine his big grin, and against her will, Riot smiled.

‘‘What would we do without you, Johnny…’’

‘‘Don’t tell him that, his head is big enough as it is’’

‘‘That hurts my feelings, Lt!’’

‘‘Cry me a river, MacTavish’’ Ghost smirked under his mask, listening to Soap’s curses in Scottish. ‘‘But he’s right, Riot. You were given orders’’

‘‘I could have entered alone’’ She answered, looking at the trees again. Her left hand rose slowly until it started rubbing the scar. Maybe that was why it was so red and raw, from her rubbing it when riddled with anxiety. Maybe that was also why she used the mask, to avoid rubbing at it in public. ‘‘There was something wrong in that op, and I knew from the start. I should…’’

‘‘Haud yer wheesht!’’ Soap huffed. ‘‘Shut up with that! Not your effing fault! It was theirs!’’

‘‘Listen to him’’ Ghost said, low, his eyes still on the path they were taking and trying to keep the jeep steady enough in the rough terrain of the forest. Riot sighed, lowering her eyes to her lap, where she was holding both the tablet and her helmet, which still had traces of blood on the shell.

‘‘They dropped a missile on us as if we were nothing. Erased us from existence’’ She snorted sadly. ‘‘They filed us as MIA right away, Laswell had to dig to overturn my file and declare me as still alive. Late to recover my shit though’’

‘‘What do you mean?’’

‘‘Rico had our lockers and rooms cleared out the following day, for what Laswell told me. Sent trinkets to my squad’s families and sold the rest or whatever’’ She sighed, deeply, her eyes glaring at the blood on her helmet. ‘‘My motorbike needed fixing and was at the garage, that’s why I still have it, that and the things I had stored in a Big Yellow storage unit. What was in my room and locker is gone. Clothes, books, CDs, my guitar…’’

Ghost said nothing at that. He had read her file instigated by Price, because as a Lieutenant, it was his duty to know about his soldiers, and thus he knew that Riot’s parents were dead, she had no siblings or other relatives, and had listed no next of kin to notify in case of her demise. She was to be cremated if her body could be retrieved, and her ashes given to the sea.

If she died, it would be as if she had never existed.

‘‘Fooking bastards, the lot of them’’ Soap sighed in the comm. ‘‘Mum told ya to put her down as your next of kin, Chris. Yer family’’

‘‘I like your mother too much to make her suffer twice, Johnny’’

‘‘Yeah, well, she’d say… oh, Cap’s here’’ There was a moment of silence until Price started speaking. ‘‘How long until you get to exfil?’’

‘‘About fifty minutes at this speed, sir’’ Riot informed after checking the tablet.

‘‘Heli is on the way already, Gaz is coordinating with the pilot’’ Price’s voice sounded tired. ‘‘How are you two holding up?’’

‘‘Fine’’ Ghost grunted, swerving around a bigger pile of rocks and a fallen tree, following Riot’s hand signals when she corrected their path using the tablet’s route. ‘‘No need for stims yet’’

‘‘I’d kill for a coffee’’ She sighed, and looked at Ghost, rising an eyebrow. ‘‘Is coffee still on once we arrive?’’

Ghost nodded with a low hmph, but she saw the corner of his eye narrowing, and she hoped that was the shadow of a smile.

‘‘What about you, Vega?’’

‘‘Well, apart from learning that I now lose my marbles when hearing an explosion, and that I was knowingly left to die under a demolished building… I’m fine, given the circumstances’’

‘‘Time to visit Dr. Green again and work it in therapy, kid’’

‘‘Don’t worry, I had an appointment with your wife in a couple of days anyway’’

Silence from the comm. Ghost chuckled under his mask, shaking his head.

‘‘Ok, who let it slip’’ Price grunted. It wasn’t exactly the best kept secret in base that he was married to the psychologist, but practically no one below his rank knew, apart from Ghost, Soap and Gaz.

‘‘She did, sir’’ Riot said in a perfectly innocent tone. ‘‘Dr. Heather told me once about her husband’s ‘magnificent muttonchops’, and who else in base has such splendid, glorious, fine muttonchops other than our dearest Captain?’’

‘‘Wha… WHAT’’ Price stammered, dumbfounded. There was also the sound of wheezing coming from the comm, no doubt from Soap losing his shit. Even Ghost was trying not to snort.

‘‘He’s fucking red as a tomato!’’

‘‘MacTavish, I swear to God…!’’

Riot giggled, with the same low, almost innocent giggle from the hill, looking at Ghost briefly with a bubbly, sweet smile that curved her lips sincerely and made her whole face and eyes lit up. He almost swerved into a tree, but managed to keep his hands firm on the steering wheel, looking at her from the corner of his eyes.

‘‘Get to fucking exfil asap’’

‘‘Roger’’ Ghost huffed, trying to hide a low chuckle at the flustered tone on Price’s voice. He could imagine Soap’s giggling, flustering the Captain even more.

‘‘Was it something I said?’’ Riot giggled again, trying to keep her innocent tone.

‘‘You’re a fucking menace’’ He muttered, hoping his fond tone would be muffled enough by the mask.

‘‘And you like it’’ She smiled sweetly, humming while checking the tablet, the comfortable silence falling over them again as they continued to the exfil point.

-

When they got there, the helicopter hadn’t arrived yet and they couldn’t even hear it. Ghost parked the jeep close to the river bank, and both got off the vehicle and recovered their backpacks.

‘‘We have to strap this fucker in and push it in the river’’ Riot grunted, pulling from Floyd’s arms and trying to drag him to the driver’s seat. Ghost allowed her to manhandle the corpse as she pleased, focused on checking their surroundings and waiting until she had the dead officer more or less secured into the seat.

Between both of them they managed to push the vehicle into the river, where it sank fairly quick, leaving only bubbles behind that slowly faded into nothing.

‘‘Base, we’re at exfil, chopper is no-show’’ Ghost grunted into the comm.

‘‘The bird is on the way, stand by’’ Gaz’s voice informed. ‘‘Price is ordering the plane to be ready, he wants us to leave as soon as you get here. Get off the chopper and board the plane’’

‘‘Copy’’

‘‘Ugh, into the plane without changing or having a shower… how nice’’ Riot sighed, rubbing again at her scar.

‘‘We can do that when we arrive’’ Ghost rolled his shoulders and then his neck, just as tired as she was. ‘‘Before or after that coffee’’

‘‘Coffee’’ She sighed dreamily, her fingers still rubbing and massaging the mangled flesh, and he just couldn’t stop himself before his hand grabbed hers to force it to stop. She looked up at him, surprised, but he just shrugged and released her hand.

‘‘Stop rubbing it’’

‘‘Why? It will get worse?’’ She snorted, looking away. ‘‘It already is. It won’t get better. It’s fucking hideous. I’m…’’

‘‘Don’t’’

Riot turned her eyes to him again, shocked at his tone, and even more shocked when she saw him yank off his glove and then cup her cheek with his hand, covering the scar with his warm, almost burning palm. His thumb gently brushed her chin, forcing her to tilt her head up so his eyes were directly on hers.

She parted her lips to say something, her hand going up to circle his wrist with her fingers and feel his pulse, and it that moment they heard the sound of the helicopter approaching from the other side of the river, appearing on the horizon over the woods.

Ghost released her face, and grabbed his backpack to move out of the way, pulling his glove on again. After a second, she did the same, remembering her balaclava and putting it back in place, covering her mouth and nose.

‘‘Hi, Stork’’ Riot whispered when the helicopter was close enough to distinguish its colours, and both waited for it to be low enough to duck and run towards it. Ghost threw his backpack inside and got in, pulling from her hand to help her. When both where secured in their seats the chopper started to soar again.

‘‘Welcome back, babies, how was the trip?’’

‘‘It went fine’’ Riot said plainly, leaning her head with relief against the wall and closing her eyes. ‘‘Did you have any problems going back and getting here?’’

‘‘Nothing to report, sweetie. There’s water and some energy bars if you two are hungry. I’ve been told to inform you that when we land in Latvia you have to board the plane right away’’

‘‘Thank you’’ She sighed and started rummaging in the box to grab a bottle of water, offering another to Ghost. He nodded and lifted his balaclava over his nose to drink a long swig.

They made their way back in silence, chewing half-heartedly on an energy bar, their knees brushing whenever one of them moved to adjust in their seat.

Ghost could still feel the softness of her skin in his palm. He found himself opening and closing his hand, his eyes darting to her smaller form from time to time, thankful for the mask and the grease and the penumbra in the helicopter cargo cabin. Maybe she wouldn’t notice. Maybe he wanted her to notice. He wasn’t even sure of what he was fucking doing anymore.

Her. Fucking hell, he wanted her. She made him want things. She made him want, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it yet. Her soft skin in his hand, he could have sworn there had been a tiny touch of pink on her cheekbones. And her eyes. Damned if he knew what was behind those blue eyes to make him crave it so much. He wondered what would have happened if the chopper had arrived later. Would he have kissed her? Leant in to capture those rosy lips with his and stop her from continuing degrading herself needlessly. Would she have kissed him back or would she have pushed him away?

Riot could still feel the warmth of his palm on her cheek, soothing the neverending dull ache of her scar. She found herself thinking about it over and over again, her eyes darting to his massive frame from time to time, thankful for the penumbra in the cargo cabin. Maybe he wouldn’t notice her glancing at him and looking away like a lovesick teenager. Maybe she was hoping he would. She wasn’t even sure of what she was hoping for anymore.

Him. She just wanted him. He made her think she wasn’t broken, or damaged goods. He had heard her say out loud she had been used, and he still had touched her afterwards. He made her want him, he made her feel safe, and she didn’t know how to deal with those feelings. She had asked him to not stop, and he had complied, even after seeing her face, after hearing what she had gone through, after seeing her murder a man in cold blood.

She felt the heat in her face, remembering his body behind her, his arm around her, his voice in her ear encouraging her while they both strangled Floyd to death. How sick was she that the mere thought made her thighs quiver and her heart skip a beat. The things she’d do to hear his voice. The things she’d do to see his eyes on her. The things she’d do for him, and to him.

If only the damned helicopter had arrived later.

‘‘ETA Ten minutes, babies’’

‘‘Copy’’ Ghost grunted, rolling his neck and sitting up in his seat, which was definitely too small for him.

‘‘Gracias’’ Riot muttered tiredly, rubbing her eyes.

‘‘Sleepy?’’ He muttered back, his voice rumbling low, just as tired as her now that the adrenalin and the tension of the mission was wearing off.

‘‘Yeah… I won’t be able to sleep on the plane though… Can’t sleep on things that move’’

‘‘If you’re tired enough, you will’’ Ghost shook his head, the hint of a chuckle in the air. ‘‘You just have to fall asleep before Soap’’

‘‘Tough mission, that one’’ She laughed, her shoulders shaking lightly.

The UN base was already on sight. It didn’t took long until the helicopter landed and they could get off to see the plane in which they had arrived the previous day in the neighbouring runway. Price, Gaz and Soap were waiting for them on the tarmac, right by the boarding stairs. Before going to them, Riot turned and patted the helicopter’s open door.

‘‘Thank you, Stork’’ She whispered, patting the metal one last time before grabbing her backpack and walking towards the plane. Ghost fell back for a second, grabbing his and making sure nothing was left in the cabin, and then, softly, hit the door with his fist twice before following her.

The first one to greet them was Gaz, who patted both their shoulders with a smile before continuing on towards the helicopter to speak with Rojas.

When they both tiredly dragged themselves closer Soap was already there, arms open wide and his signature grin on his lips, sincerely happy to see their friends back. Everyone should have someone like Johnny, Riot thought, right before dropping her backpack, lowering her balaclava and melting into her friend’s arms, who closed around her, holding her tight.

‘‘Johnny, can’t breathe’’ She laughed, burying her face against his neck and clinging to him. In response, Soap tightened his embrace, swaying a bit while humming loudly, making her laugh louder. Ghost patted his shoulder fondly when he got to them.

‘‘I have space for one more, Lt!’’ Soap extended one arm towards him, his grin widening. Riot giggled seeing Ghost step back.

‘‘No way in hell, MacTavish’’

‘‘Awww, you’re no fun’’ Soap exhaled a full on belly-laugh, lifting Riot from the ground and twirling with her. ‘‘At least one of my friends loves me’’

‘‘Set me down, you bloody moron!’’ Despite her words, she kept laughing.

‘‘Get in the plane, muppet’’ Price was smiling indulgently, arms crossed. ‘‘I want to speak with these two catastrophes before we leave. That’ll give Gaz enough time to do whatever the fuck he’s doing’’

Ghost looked back at the chopper, next to which Gaz and Rojas were chatting lively, and then looked back again at Price, waiting. Soap released Riot from his grip and went up the boarding stairs carrying both their backpacks, and she moved to stand beside Ghost in front of the Captain.

‘‘To say Kate is not happy would be an understatement’’ Price sighed, eyeing them both up and down. ‘‘I couldn’t care less about that sleazy bastard, but I hope the voice recorder and the phone you got from him will have enough worthy intel to make up for it’’

‘‘We also have the tablet, his wallet, his tags, and a full set of cards and different IDs he seemed to have used’’ Riot said, back to the soft, calm tone she usually had. ‘‘It’s all in my backpack, sir’’

‘‘Hmph’’Price nodded, and then, finally, patted their arms briefly. ‘‘Good job. Now board. Go freshen up in the toilet or something to make yourselves comfortable, I bet you’re fucking sore and eager to get all that off’’

Riot nodded and started going up the stairs, but Price stopped Ghost before he could follow her.

‘‘I want your honest opinion’’ The Captain muttered, and when the other man nodded, continued speaking. ‘‘About her. In the field’’

‘‘She’s good’’ Ghost said, looking up at her until she disappeared inside the plane, and then down at Price. ‘‘Damned good, actually. Stealthy, ruthless, resolute and relentless’’

‘‘So she is a good fit for Task Force 141’’ Price nodded, looking satisfied with Ghost’s answer. ‘‘Good to know, I like her’’

Ghost said nothing at that. Of the whole team, Price was who he trusted the most with his thoughts, the only one who knew him fully, who knew him before. And still… he couldn’t. Not yet. Tilting his head at Price, he started his way up the stairs to board the plane.

Price stared at him until the massive frame of his Lieutenant disappared inside, and then checked his mobile phone to send a text to his wife, warning her that they were going back home. After a moment, he sent a second one.

You were right we need a bigger dinner table, sweetheart. We have another kid.

-

It took Gaz another ten minutes before Price just hollered at him to hurry the fuck up, and by then, both Riot and Ghost had gone to the plane toilets to freshen themselves and get rid of their bulkiest gear.

Riot walked to the back of the plane as she had done on the way to Latvia, sighing when she saw Soap already lying down half asleep. When she got to the line with seats facing each other Ghost was already sitting there on the window seat, his legs stretched out in front of him on the opposite seat. He had got rid of the full skull mask to keep the simple black balaclava, a clean one it seemed, and he looked almost… peaceful, with his eyes closed.

She thought he was sleeping, and turned around to leave when a strong hand gripped her belt and loop of her cargo pants and pulled her back, making her fall ungracefully on the seat next to Ghost’s.

‘‘Sleep’’ He grunted, dragging her closer and wrapping an arm around her. Riot blinked, dumbfounded. This surely wasn’t happening.

‘‘Gh-… Simon…’’ She started, but changed her mind and decided to go along with it. She wiggled her way into the seat, moving around until she found the most comfortable position, with her back against his side, her legs stretched out and resting on the seat on the other side of the aisle, and her head resting on his shoulder and biceps while his arm was wrapped around her, keeping her in place against him.

Ghost waited patiently for her to settle, tutting from time to time when she was restless and decided to change positions, but when she finally stopped, his grip tightened around her.

‘‘Go to sleep, Johnny’s not snoring yet’’ He mumbled, trying to relax in the seat too small for him.

‘‘You’re not disgusted by today?’’ She whispered suddenly, and he sighed, turning his head until he rested it on hers, feeling the scent of her soft hair even through the balaclava.

‘‘One day, lovie, when we’re ready, I’ll tell you a story’’ He whispered back, and she could swear she could feel the rumble in his chest against her back, shaking her to her very core.

‘‘What if one of us is ready and the other isn’t?’’ She whispered softly, snuggling into him and feeling comforted by the weight of his arm around her. For a moment, she wished he had chosen the other side of the aisle. That way maybe she’d be able to listen to his heartbeat.

‘‘Then we wait for the other’’ He muttered, half asleep by then, lulled by the sound of her breathing and the scent of her hair.

‘‘Deal…’’ She hummed, brushing her cheek against his shoulder when she nodded right before drifting off into sleep.

[electricprincess96]

are the gaming icons in the room with us right now? at least have ellie leon or nathan drake

Just because you're twelve doesn't mean Gaming started 10 or 15 years ago. Put some respect on 1996 Tomb Raider because without it many of your so called gaming "icons" wouldn't exist.

You would not have Nathan Drake without Lara Croft and most proper Uncharted fans (ie. Uncharted fans who have picked up more than one game in their entire life) know that. I've played a lot of Tomb Raider for the PS1 and PS2 alongside the first 3 Uncharted games within the last year and a half and anyone with a brain can see the influence (and obviously then Tomb Raider was influenced by Uncharted for their reboot trilogy but ultimately OG Lara came first and heavily influenced the sort of game Uncharted was initially).

Also Leon Bros opinions are instantly dismissed when they don't appreciate Claire Redfield. Girl was a college student who ran into the infected city with nothing but a revolver all to try and find her brother and in doing so she helps keep herself AND Sherry alive despite being the least trained of the main four RE protagonists (both Chris and Jill are special ops and Leon while significantly less trained than them, has still done basic cop training).

Also without the success of Resident Evil and Silent Hill basically inventing the survival horror genre you would never have got TLOUs.

Have some respect for that which came before, the shit you love from modern gaming wouldn't exist otherwise.

[show-us-kaidenshenandoah]

most of the time, when i make tiktok comments (or comments on youtube or insta or, i guess, social media in general) my brain has me just Fucking Forget that im not in a one-on-one conversation with OP and other people can read what i say. thankfully: this comment is now deleted after i foolishly left it up on tiktok for five months

i dont mind leaving i leaving it up here though because this is tumblr. it fits the vibe. i can mute the post if worst comes to worst, whatever. i think its funny that my friends were more worried about Chris than a literal cockroach lol im just glad the og tiktok comment didnt break containment before i deleted it from there lol but here? this whole site is "containment", itll be fiiiiinnne ...probaabblllyyyy

bc, yeah, luckily, this comment got only 2 likes. it was from a tiktok made by @/nerdymixedpan about: monster fuckery "hear me out"s? golden, great choices, will be allowed to speak even if no one agrees, no one is worried about Tat at all for any of their picks. human "hear me out"s? Tat's wife worries "you just like freaky lil white boys" as Tat is fussed over

but yeah!! Tat's sentiment reminded me of "my childhood (with some lifelong, but not all) 'hear me out's, but it gets worse as we go along" powerpoint i made and showed my friends for powerpoint night. and so i made an admittance in the above comment that, AS A KID (NOT NOW), i had crushes on Chris Mclean from "Total Drama Island" and the Headless Roach Man (is apparently his official wiki name) from "Growing Up Creepie"

and i think, for me, part of it is "monster fuckery? Kaiden-Shenandoah, youve been rarely NOT rigidly asexual your whole life. nobody is going to worry about you loving monster-romances and scream at 'but what about their genitalia?! you cannot possibly want to fucking bed that Lovecraftian horror!!' or some shit, bc you dont have any interest in that, so it's kinda like 'eh... our friends have had worse significant others we have had to tolerate'. at least we dont have to picture how the fuck sex would work" (bc apparently allosexuals, i guess, picture how the hell the sex could work when sizing up a loved one's partner? and they have the audacity to call ME their "favorite lil freaky weirdo". im as "freaky" as freshly cleaned Barnes & Noble, fam, idk what the fuck youre on) and all of that somehow nullifies all possible grotesqueness or horror of my monster picks. like "i kicked my feet and giggled as a lil kid over a nonspeaking, headless, giant cockroach", y'know?? nothing. they give me fucking nothing lmao rip

put an irl cockroach, head or no head (nonspeaking regardless) that is normal-cockroach-size, in front of my friends? there'd be so much screaming. but i get it, sure, the cockroach character in the ppt is 2D animated and will never be real. an actual cockroach is, y'know, obviously real. i get the dissonance there. i do. i get it. im befuddled... but i do get it, yes

and yet somehow the same logic does not impact my human "hear me out"s as my friends went "WTF KAIDEN-SHENANDOAH, YOU CANT GET WITH THIS MAN, HE'S THE DEVIL". like?? okay. but the headless extremely tall cockroach with no speaking-lines who lives in a sewer is fine?? both of these guys are 2D animated. neither are real. still. one of these png files got me a "lmao you cannot be serious... i mean, i GUESS, sure? carry on" and the other png file got me a "KAIDEN-SHENANDOAH, ABSOLUTELY NOT, NO, SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOURE DONE, NO, NOBODY'S HEARING YOU OUT, NO, NOPE, NO, SIT THE FUCK DOWN, LIKE HONESTLY, WTF". and, shockingly, it was the human man who got my friends kicking and screaming

granted, Chris absolutely is a stellar example of "if Satan was a mortal man" but also? s1 and s2 Chris was not so bad, he just did his job. he got unhinged as he stayed at that job. and im ngl im intrigued at the idea of how the fuck would this man function with something as benign yet allowing for obsession like a crush or being in love. but also? yeah, no, the straight-jacket and pillow-walled room i got put in for this one was warranted, yep, i get how i got here

[tsuki-sennin]

After the surprise worldwide invasion of the Bognaarok, the Ohsama Sentai have gone and done it! Knocked them back real good! However... the strange jubilation of the Bognaarok is cut short by the appearance of a mysterious man...

...yes, I'm still narrating, I can't have Jeremy be the only one around here, can I?

Spoilers, I guess...

-You must be this infamous Spiders Jeremy I've heard so much about.

-"You old. Cringe. Fail. Ratio."

-The world is about to be flipped.

-"Yeah sorry, Gira vanished. ...don't ask where he is, Racles doesn't need to know."

-Kaguragi's nerves of steel.

-Makes sense, bees are absolutely vicious critters.

-"A proper state funeral."

-...I really like your new hairstyle, Himeno.

-Absolutely immaculate.

-Gira has long fantasized about his life as a revenant.

-Based Kuroda.

-Aw that's sweet, Yanma's having fun.

-What they believe in :)

-ROBO GIRA

-"Becoming a cyborg is every dude's dream!" ...you uh... have no idea how ironic that is.

-Oh well, this is cute :)

-What've you got for us, my Queen?

-A fairy tale~!

-JESUS GIRA

-Rita is unmoved by evil, cyborgs, or Christianity.

-MOFUN

-It's important to have nice stories in times of conflict.

-Rita almost got spoiled on their blorbo show.

-I'd ask "What kind of kids' cartoon has smugglers" but when I was a kid I was a fan of the PBS Kids program Wild Kratts, starring the very same Chris and Martin Kratt behind Zoboomafoo. Wild Kratts had a rotating cast of poachers, so I can understand the importance of showing criminal masterminds.

-Awwww, Kogane-neesan :)

-As long as there is one person who believes in you.

By love and trust and faith will we be saved. A single soul's enough, when 'gainst the world We stand. Apart. Alone. Believe in me, We plead. We pray. And answer they… I will…

-By the way, go play Live A Live, it's goated.

-Hello, Jimmy.

-Oh, a lady Bug!

-Nagabajim~!

-Our boy is dead :(

-"Shut the fuck up, Racules!"

-Oh

-Uh oh

-Ohhhhh, that's spider web.

-"Waaaaaaah~! Waaaaaaaaaaah~! Girraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Cry you fool!"

-"Oh, excuse me..."

-"I don't like your idea, Racules."

-FUCKER TOOK GIRA

-"Oops~!"

-Okay, that's just silly.

-What's your deal, spider boy?

-W

-Wh

-What

-D

-Did you shit on him????

-Oh my god, you did!

-Kind of a storyteller, okay

-I mean, you guys are trying to kill people.

-I don't doubt that the Bognaarok's disdain didn't come from nowhere, considering you live deep underground while humanity gets to enjoy everything else, but-

-It's bug time, I guess~!

-That was easy!

-Oh, never mind, here comes the family!

-"You didn't die for nothing, Nagabajim~!"

-That's a solid contingency plan, I'll give 'em that.

-They ate our friends!

-Ohhhhh

-"What?! Did Nagabajim really die for nothing!?"

-Ohhhhh, there he is! Jeremy!

-Literally OP, as far as I can see.

-Venomix Shooter!

-"Oh, what took you so long, IDIOT!?"

-G

-Guys Go?

-"Sweet dreams~? :)"

-Jeremy Brasieri.

-An ancient story teller.

-More Dock In!

-Holy shit!

-That motherfucker just iced our main villain!

-JEREMY

-THIS WAS ALL ABOUT YOU ALL ALONG

-BRUH

-HE GOT ME

-DUDE

-WHAT THE FUCK

-Okay!

-Incredible first showing by King Jeremy, I guess!

-BRUH-DUDE

-WHAT

-HUH

-HOW

-WHAAAAAA

-NANDAYO!?

-EHHHHHHH!?

-Okay!

-Incredible first showing by King Jeremy, I guess!

[sl-walker]

Current WIPs for the Arc of the Wolf. And like-- these are just a few.

Story 1: Forty-Eight - Adorable 5'8" tall stack of trauma reactions in a stolen coat tries to figure out coping mechanisms on the fly. (32039 words so far)

Story 2: Cinderella in a Party Dress - Smooshing a young doctor and engineer together is hard, y'all. Also, karaoke. (16271 words so far)

Story 3: Neither Fox Nor Rose - Executive Dysfunction: It's not just for breakfast. Also, a quick lesson on hacking a jacuzzi.

Story 4: Local Vulcan and engineer bond over music, film -- if you're lucky -- at 11. (2806 words so far)

Story 5: Motley science ship gets assigned to dangerous covert ops mission, oh shit. (14445 words so far)

Story 6: Postscript - Funerals for former rivals are emotionally complicated. Done.

Story 7: Give and Take - The inevitable consequences when your brother threatens The Man with lawyers on your behalf and also you are running out of moonlighting jobs. Done.

Story 8: Orphans - A pair of orphans work on their relationship and understanding of one another. (3305 words so far)

Story 9: A performance review by Phil Boyce and Chris Pike for the purposes of fun and profit building a future chief engineer and second officer out of the admittedly one-of-a-kind Lt. Scott. (1087 words so far)

Story 10: When is a tricorder not a tricorder? Why, when it has the potential to show you whether unethical people succeeded in rewiring your brain! (385 words)

Revision: Dance Lessons Done.

Revision: Fireflies of Scotland Done.

[trippin-over-my-fandoms]

The Prince of Shadows - Chapter Four

(images of Karl and Chris belong to this talented artist!)

AO3 version and previous chapters can be read here. Previous tumblr chapters can be read by checking the fic title hashtag at the end of the post.

Rating- T

Words- 1,736

Some implied Heisenfield here :3

None of this makes sense.

The light flicks on making Karl squint, his eyes straining against the computer light in the darkness making it hard to see now. “What are you doing in here?” Says a voice behind him.

Karl spins around in the desk chair. Chris. He doesn’t even bothering to make an attempt to hide what he was doing as he faces the other man, knowing Chris could have been standing there for ages before announcing himself. “I could ask you the same thing,” Karl huffs.

“You know all this is supposed to be for desk crew,” Chris folds his large arms across his chest, eyebrow arched and pointing at the spread of papers on the desk and computer tabs Karl has up, “You don’t have anything better to do?”

“Neither do you apparently,” Karl rolls his eyes. Nothing better to do than harass him.

Karl’s been holed up in the main planning room for the Hound Wolf Squad, the office space courtesy of the BSAA with it being on their grounds and all the tech a gift from Blue Umbrella. It’s a nice set up, Karl has never really appreciated it, let alone spent much time in it aside from briefings, but it is nice. He can work his way around a machine yet computers are a challenge and even he was able to access the records from the previous, botched, mission.

“Alright stop it. I’m the leader of this team, I got a right to be here. You’re being obsessive.” Chris fully enters the room, leaning over Karl to close out the computer and stack up the loose papers.

Karl sighs in defeat, trying not to be too broken up over Chris ruining hours of work. “No, I just want to know what happened.”

“And I told you yesterday when we got back, they moved it before we could move in.” Chris pulls up a chair from the planning table in the center of the room to sit opposite Karl, resting his elbows on his knees.

Karl didn’t trust that story then and he still doesn’t trust it now. It seems too easy, too convenient of a story. If it hadn’t come from Chris himself then he’d suspect a cover up. Well… more than he already does. “Nah. Something else. It was there and we knew it. Someone messed up.”

Chris sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as if Karl’s incessancy is causing him a headache, “You’re such a control freak,” he growls.

“I’m doing my job,” Karl argues, “Yours too considering this was your op. You’re getting lazy.”

“I am not!” Chris sits straight upright at the accusation, anger drawn into the lines of his face. If they weren’t close Karl might think Chris would punch him. He still might.

Except it doesn’t matter to Karl whether or not he upsets Chris. He’s not about to stand by and let things go to shit at the sake of Chris’ feelings. “You took the job right? BSAA handed it to us and you just took them at their word? We should have done our own recon and made sure all of this was legit.”

“There’s no ‘we’ here, Karl. This is my team, you’re just part of it,” Chris’ voice is stern, no ounce of fondness for his friend and all anger towards an insubordinate employee, “Now I appreciate your input when I ask but that’s off the clock, alright? Me asking what you think is just dinner conversation.”

Karl is taken aback by his statement. Discarded to the side, just like that. Clearly they are very close. Not. “Well then you shouldn’t have gotten me involved,” he huffs.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

The room falls silent. The only sound being the low humming of the computers running and the heating unit pumping air in. And the squeak of Karl’s chair when he moves to turn away from Chris, back to start his work again. Karl doesn’t need his approval. He’s his own person, no matter how many times he has to remind himself of that.

“Look, Karl, I’m sorry,” Chris sighs, placing his hand on Karl’s shoulder and spinning him back around. Despite his irritation with him, Karl allows it, “I don’t mean it like that, I’ll just stop involving you in team stuff when we’re not in the field. Alright?”

Karl looks at the floor, at the wall behind Chris, anywhere except at him directly, “I know that’s not how you meant it. It doesn’t matter- I still appreciate you trying. But this isn’t about me being obsessive or not having a hobby-“

“Which we still need to find you-“ Chris chuckles. Karl doesn’t reciprocate despite being the one to have set up the playful jab.

“Something about this just rubs me the wrong way. I don’t know what it is but it’s irritating the hell out of me,” Karl reaches behind him, goes to pick up some of the papers he’s printed out to show Chris. But Chris stops him, grabs his arms and holds them between the two of them.

“You trust me?” He asks, looking Karl in the eye now.

“Of course.” Karl nods,

“Then let me handle it-“ Chris slowly says every word like he’s making sure Karl hears each one and understands them.

“Chris-“

“No. Don’t. Let me handle it. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything. I promise. You’ll be the first I tell.” There’s so much sincerity in his eyes.

Karl can’t help but believe him.

“…Fine.”

“Thank you,” Chris smiles, “Now come on before you get in trouble.”

Karl rolls his eyes, scoffing as he and Chris both stand, not even bothering to return their chairs neatly, “What are they gonna do? Ground me? Lock me in my apartment?”

“You never know,” Chris shrugs, following behind Karl to make sure he leaves.

Karl looks back to him, questioning, “You really think they would? After all this time?”

Chris laughs, turning out the light as they exit into the central promenade of the BSAA compound, “You so much as sneeze and bend the Eiffel tower then you’re gonna find yourself in a windowless lab.” Coming from anyone else it would have been offensive, but Karl has always given Chris a pass.

Still, he only rolls his eyes at the dig, “Okay well for the record it takes more than just a sneeze for that. I’m not a child, I’ve got a handle on it.”

“Oh so it was possible once?” Chris elbows him, sending Karl slightly off balance and it reminds Karl of teenagers in the movies he’d see on TV growing up. Sometimes he wishes their lives were that simple.

“Alright enough,” Karl shoves him back but Chris doesn’t budge easily, “I wouldn’t do that you know it. I kinda like the fresh air, I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize this freedom.” Maybe Karl is more sensitive about it than he thought.

Chris sensing the tension ends his teasing, “I know. I wouldn’t let them do that to you anyway.”

“I know. I trust you.” He truly does. Chris is the first person Karl ever truly trusted. The first person to make themselves trustworthy to him.

“Good. So quit looking over your shoulder like you’re thinking of going back in there.” Caught. Karl had been sending glances back to the door they’d just left and he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was.

“Fine, fine. I’ll stop,” Karl grins.

Karl’s apartment isn’t far from the compound. It’s still within walking distance and it’s less of an apartment than it is BSAA regulated housing for employees. Still, it beats a single room in an underground lab by miles.

“Do you want me to stay?” Chris asks while waiting on Karl to unlock the door. Chris lives on the other side of the complex, at least part time when he isn’t in Europe or some other country being a hero, but he still takes the time to make sure Karl gets home. Karl still doesn’t know if it’s because he’s just being nice or if he thinks he’s protecting him. He doesn’t mind it either way.

“I thought we talked about this already, Chris,” Karl sighs, knowing what he’s truly asking.

“I know but,” Chris seems reluctant.

Karl takes a deep breath, leaving his keys in the door and turning to face the taller man, “I’ve spent a lot of my time alone. A quiet apartment for a night isn’t going to kill me. What do you think I do when you can’t get away with staying? Besides, I thought we had an agreement.” He tries to sound as convincing as possible.

Now it’s Chris’ turn to look anywhere except Karl. He seems every bit the robotic soldier when he says, “You don’t want anything else-“

“I don’t know how to have anything else. And I don’t want you thinking you have to give that to me because you feel sorry for me.” Karl turns back around to get his door open, it’s too cold out to be having this conversation outdoors.

“And I already told you it’s not because I feel sorry for you,” Chris seems a bit too much like he’s pleading with Karl. And he’d believe that this was something Chris really wanted if he hadn’t convinced himself that it was in fact purely because he felt bad for Karl.

Karl would allow it if he felt even the slightest of an ounce human.

“Don’t care. You’ve got all the fiends in the world and instead you choose to babysit my ass,” Karl tries to spin it back around to jokes, standing in the doorway to prevent Chris from bullying his way in.

“I wouldn’t call it babysitting.”

“You’ve been babysitting me since they decided I was useful.”

They stare at each other in the dimness, the moonlight creating dark shadows over Chris’ face and the lone lit lamp inside Karl’s apartment illuminating him from behind. In this moment Karl wishes that powers beyond his own existed so he could wish them to be normal. In a different world they can exist without being a super soldier and a bioweapon on a leash.

“Just go home Chris,” Karl says quietly before all his regrets start to build up.

“Only if you promise you leave the mission alone.” Chris is serious, less sentimental. Good.

“Promise.”

“Thank you.”

[eddiediazismyhusband]

OP i completely agree but I am gonna hijack your post for a minute to add in my two cents:

what if it’s the diazes asking christopher this question and christopher goes “well, he’s like my dad but he’s not… dad’s my dad… so buck is my buck.”

and the diaz parents are just like “wtf” and they ask what he means by buck is like his dad, and chris starts telling them about everything buck’s done for him and eddie over the years and he ends his explanation by mentioning the will and they’re both like “the WHAT?”

and that’s what sparks the will conversation and we get ramon and helena both ebing confused about it, helena on the defensive as always and ramon actually trying to hear eddie out

especially if this is after a conversation w pepa or abuela about how eddie was always such a ‘sensitive little boy ™️’ but that his parents had changed him by expecting him to grow up too quickly which sparks a conversation about eddie having a queer uncle who always doted on him (eddie not remembering him) and how eddie always reminded abuela or pepa of him before he passed away and ramon/helena tried to erase his existence from their kids’ lives

we then get eddie questioning why he was so similar to his uncle, PLUS eddie starting to question why he wants buck to be chris’s guardian, and he talks to frank about it and frank goes “i know what you are 👁️👄👁️” and BAM we get feelings realization

then after he spirals for an episode, coming to terms with his feelings for buck as well as the idea of figuring out his sexuality in his 30s, he has a heart to heart with ramon that kind of finishes resolving their reconciliation arc, meanwhile helena is still helena-ing™️ over everything and it results on her saying something akin to “dragging christopher down” and chris OVERHEARS and gets angry and that is the catalyst for him returning to LA- still upset with eddie, their own tension not yet resolved, but they finally started down that road, and it sets up a whole arc for eddie accepting that buck is what completes his family, whether he has him romantically or not, and that helps heal the rift with chris…

but then we get buck having his own simultaneous arc of wondering about his place in their lives when someone points it out- he starts to recontextualize his entire relationship with eddie under the lens of his recently discovered bisexuality and has his own “oh shit” moment that sparks some more drama w buck having to navigate this realization while still thinking eddie is straight and realizing the risks that these feelings had on his relationship with eddie and we possibly get a mini-divorce era (no longer than like 2, maybe 3 episodes, nothing too drastic and crazy) where buck only spends time with christopher and eddie thinks that buck somehow found out about his feelings for him and blames himself for the awkwardness, while buck thinks the same thing (although slightly different circumstances) and it’s not until they’re working a bad fire and eddie slips up and says something along the lines of “you better come back to me” and then later on after shift, they’re in eddie’s kitchen and buck asks what eddie meant by what he said, and eddie is all like “what hahaha i didn’t say anything who said anything?” and buck is like “when you said it, i registered it as you telling me to come back to you and christopher, but you said come back to me, so what did you mean” and cue soft quiet love confession scene in eddie’s kicthen and eddie is crying and apologizing for making things awkward and then we see buck be the one to take the step (having worked through his apprehension to taking the risk) and kisses eddie super softly and the episode ends with them looking at each other for a moment before smiling.

anyway, sorry again op for hijacking your post but you gave me so many thoughts that i had to write down omg

I need an episode where someone asks why Chris calls Buck “his Buck” and not “Uncle Buck” or plain old “Buck.” And I want to see Eddie grasping at straws trying to find a platonic answer for it.

[icekong]

[mellowswriting]

wicked

pairing || Adrian Chase x fem!Reader

word count || 4.7k

summary || Adrian finally gives in to temptation and lets you smoke him out. You finally give in to temptation and let him kiss you. 

content || coworkers to friends to lovers, recreational drug use (marijuana), smut (oral, fingering, Adrian constantly running his mouth, unprotected sex, creampie, riding)

a/n || this idea has been rattling around in my head for over a month

Main Masterlist  |  Library Blog 

Working black ops is stressful. You knew to expect that long before you became involved with your little ragtag team of weirdos - but what you weren’t expecting was for your team to become your stress relief, too. See, you went into this whole thing intent on not getting too close. What you do is dangerous work. The idea of getting close to someone only to lose them in such a violent way turns your stomach.

Even so, you couldn’t help but warm up to every single one of them. Economos and Leota were too easy not to befriend. You bonded with Chris over your shared love of music, even though you often argued over the quality of new bands. Even Harcourt became your friend. You often went out together for drinks together after a long day of work.

But Vigilante? The two of you clicked automatically, best buddies from the very start. You team up together on missions so often that Harcourt doesn’t even bother trying to separate you anymore, just to avoid Vig’s whining. There’s no counting the number of times you have patched each other up and passed out in each other’s places after being awake far too long. Soon, stitches and post-debrief catnaps become movie nights and sleepovers, and you've got a somewhat psychotic best friend that you may or may not be completely in love with.

Falling for Adrian was far too easy. He's sweet and boyish and somehow crass and incredibly fucking sexy all at once, a duality you didn't think was even possible. Besides, you aren’t blind. Adrian isn’t exactly conspicuous, to say the least. He stares constantly and you catch him checking out your ass at least twice a day. There's a rabid overprotectiveness that overcomes him whenever you're in even a hint of danger - which is often, considering the line of work you're in. Adrian lingers at your side during debriefs, walks you to your car every night, even offers to clean your guns for you every now and then.

The tension has been rising for weeks now and you can’t deny that you have been wondering who will break first. You don't have to wonder for long. It happens on a random Tuesday, of all days. The little impromptu party that happened in your living room had long since died down. Leota was the first to leave, too eager to get back to Keeya to hang around long, and Economos left not long after. Harcourt and Chris made sure to leave twenty minutes apart - as if they were being clever enough not to tip you off that they were getting together afterward.

That leaves you and Adrian alone together on your couch. It’s familiar, comforting even. Seeing him lounging around your house in his civilian clothes has become so normal that your home feels empty on the rare occasion he isn’t there. He’s always there, chatting up a storm so fast that you can barely get a word in edgewise, but you don’t mind. Listening to him go on and on, seeing him get so animated - it’s all too cute.

Which is why his sudden bout of silence is so fucking weird. “C’mon, Adrian. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’ve told you a ton of weird shit about myself, I’m not really in the position to judge you.”

“I just - I don’t want you to think less of me,” Adrian mumbles, picking at his nails intently. You snag his hand before he can make his fingers bleed and he finally locks eyes with you.

“We’ve done a lot of morally objectionable shit together.” You reassure him with a squeeze of his hand. “Just tell me and we can go from there.”

“I - I was thinking maybe you could show me how to smoke weed.” It comes out in such a rush that you can barely distinguish one word from the next but the second it clicks in your brain, you can’t stop the surprised look on your face. “It’s just that you and Chris have so much fun when you do it, and it’s not like it’s illegal anymore, right? I mean, alcohol was illegal for a while there and we still drink together all the time! So if it isn’t against the law, I don’t see why -”

“Adrian, breathe!” You cut him off before he can go completely red in the face from over-explaining himself. “I would love to.”

Adrian’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Seriously?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’ll smoke you up.” You’re almost giddy with excitement as you hop off the couch and grab the bag you keep tucked underneath your bed. It would be a lie to say you’ve never thought about what Adrian would be like after a few hits, but he’s always been so intense on the subject that you never pushed him on it. Adrian’s leg bounces nervously as you settle in next to him. “Don’t worry, okay? We’re gonna take it easy for your first time and I’ll be here the whole time.”

It isn’t surprising that he’s a quick learner. That first hit sends him into a coughing fit but he takes your advice, watches the way you inhale, and copies your every move. Not even a minute after, Adrian is already needling you about why it’s taking so long, vibrating with an adorable, nervous excitement.

“Just relax, it doesn’t take long.” You chuckle before flicking the bright red cherry off of the half-finished joint, not wanting to get too buzzed so you can keep him on the right track. He needs a distraction before he spirals, so you ask him about those modifications he’s been making to his suit. Adrian lights up. He goes on and on about the various hidden pockets and added protection he has sewn into the black and teal suit.

It’s pretty obvious the moment it kicks in. Those pretty green eyes of his are slightly glazed over, little ‘um’s breaking up every few words, and you find that you were right. He’s somehow even cuter when he’s buzzed. He fumbles for his phone to show you pictures of his suit - even though you saw it less than five hours ago - but it slips through his fingers and clatters to the floor. A burst of giggles bubbles from his mouth.

“Oh,” Adrian says, voice bright with realization. “Wicked.”

“Yeah?” You prompt and nudge his knee with yours.

“I feel like I’m fuckin’ floating.” He mumbles as he melts back into the cushions, blinking all slow and lazy. “God, fuck, it’s too quiet in here. I can hear the tv buzzing, it’s driving me nuts. Gimme your phone. You know, your playlists are way better than mine, which is complete bullshit. That’s gotta be some sort of talent, being able to make perfect playlists. You’re an artist.”

You just scoff and toss him your phone, which he unlocks with a few taps. He squints at your screen like it's brighter than the sun, nudging his glasses up his nose as he searches through your Spotify intently. Indecisive as ever, it takes him a few moments to pick one, but a dopey smile curls his lips when Hozier’s voice whisps away the silence of your apartment. You’re the only person he would ever admit it to, but Adrian actually loves a lot of today’s music. He made you promise never to tell Chris when he willingly turned up a Harry Styles song and screamed along to it on one of your many car rides in the Vigilante-mobile.

“Mm, good choice,” You sigh. The soft, low tones of the music wash over you and you close your eyes to soak it in. It’s easier to let yourself revel in the soft buzz you’ve got going on now that you know he isn’t going to spin out. The couch shifts next to you and you peek one eye open to see Adrian sitting cross-legged, looking at you with that same dopey expression. You give him a soft smile. “What?”

“You’re really pretty all relaxed like this.” He says, trademark in his casualness. Your stomach flips at the ease with which he compliments you, his words ringing with sincerity. “I mean, you’re pretty all the time - especially when we’re on a mission. Have I told you that? You look so fucking hot with a gun in your hand but when you’re all relaxed and happy and smiling, you’re, like, a thousand times prettier.”

Heat rushes through you and you shift in your seat, murmuring a quiet, “Adrian…”

“Plus these little shorts look so soft and comfortable. You look so soft and comfortable. Fuck, is this what getting high is always like?” Adrian’s fingertips glide along the hem of the pajama shorts you threw on once everyone else left and you feel like you’re going to die if he keeps this up. He’s just too cute. Your already waning inhibitions disappear under his touch and there’s nothing to stop the mischievous idea that takes hold of you.

You pluck the half-finished joint from the coffee table and wave it dramatically in front of his face. “Wanna shotgun it?”

“Seriously?” Adrian sits straight up. Eagerness burns away some of the dazed look from his eyes. “Wait, that’s like kissing, right? Like, I get to kiss you and inhale the smoke out of your mouth? Not some weird shit with an actual shotgun, because I don’t have one with me right now.”  

“You’re right, it is like kissing.” You chuckle, pleasantly surprised that you don’t have to explain it to him. That little voice of reason that always held you back from giving in to the temptation of Adrian Chase is strangely absent from your mind. It doesn’t matter that he’s your coworker, that he’s your best friend, that this could really complicate things with your already complicated job. All that matters is finally giving the both of you what you so rightly deserve, what you both have been craving for so long - each other. You reach out to brush an errant curl from his forehead. “Do you want to kiss me, Adrian?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He replies without hesitation.

Warmth burns through your body as you sit up, your knees pressing against his thigh as you try to focus on lighting the joint - not on the anticipation that rolls in your belly. Adrian stares up at you intently, something you have never quite gotten used to. All his claims about not having feelings are complete and total bullshit. You can tell just by the affection that burns in his eyes that he is just as susceptible to getting swept up in the whirlwind of love as the rest of you are. His intense gaze drops to your lips as they wrap around the joint and pull a long inhale, one that threatens to make your lungs seize if you aren’t careful. You lean back and drop the joint into the ashtray on your table.

The light press of your thumb against his chin draws his attention back up to your eyes. He lets you tilt his head back just slightly and you exhale slowly, your lips brushing his as he draws in the smoke from your mouth. The air between you sizzles with electricity, your eyes locked with his as he holds the smoke in his lungs just like you taught him to. It’s the little whimper he gives that draws you in again for a real kiss, your hand cradling his jaw as your tongue teases a small taste of him. Wisps of smoke escape him as he parts his lips and deepens the kiss, a broken sound bubbling against your lips when his tongue touches yours.

Adrian finally breaks.

Those hands you have been fantasizing about forever snag at your waist and pull you into his lap with an ease that has you shivering. The little show of strength only makes you ache for him that much more as the pleasant warmth of your high ignites into something sharper, something needier. You melt into him as he licks into your mouth with a low moan and drags you impossibly closer, his grip on you tightening with every little sound he pulls from you. It’s sloppy and desperate and everything you have been dreaming of. It isn’t until your lungs scream for air that you finally break away from him.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He whispers reverently, his hands greedily massaging your bare thighs. “Like vanilla. Is that chapstick or some shit? So good, like a cupcake.”

“Yeah, it’s chapstick, you weirdo.” You huff with a laugh. The methodic squeezing of his exploring hands is so distracting that you barely notice the pout your teasing earns you. Adrian looks like a dream like this, all wide eyes and spit slick lips. Your thumb drags over his bottom lip indulgently. “You’re really good at that, pretty boy.”

And just like that, it’s as if you never teased him to begin with. Adrian fucking melts for you, something needy and hungry cracking open in his chest. One of his hands abandons its exploration of your thigh to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb stroking back and forth along your jaw. “Let me do it again. Fuck, let me do everything, anything you want -”

Adrian cuts himself off by kissing you. He finally has you right where he wants you, willing prey trapped in his grasp as he memorizes your taste and scent and every curve of your body. He can’t decide if he wants to bury his hands in your hair or grab fistfuls of your ass, or if he should kiss your lips or the tempting line of your throat. The opportunities are endless and it makes his already frayed mind go haywire. You cry out his name when he nibbles at your pulse point and pride sings in his veins. You’re the smartest woman he knows, quick-witted and great in a fight - and he’s managed to turn you into a mewling mess with a few kisses.

“Please I - fuck!” You gasp as his teeth dig harder into the corded muscle of your neck - hard enough to leave a pretty bruise where everyone will see. Your fingers tangle in his curls and yank him away, and for a horrible second, Adrian thinks he’s crossed a line. The desperation in your voice soothes his worries. “I need you so bad, I swear to god I’m gonna explode if you don’t fuck me.”

“Holy fucking shit, you sound so pretty when you beg. I could blow my load just listening to you.” Adrian grits out through clenched teeth. You’ve gone all mindless with need, just whispering little pleas as you press soft kisses along his jaw. The thin fabric of your shorts almost tears as he shoves his hand down the front of them. “You’re so wet, baby. I’m gonna drown myself in your pussy.”

Fuck, he’s got a filthy mouth. Even as his fingers delve into your slick cunt, he runs his mouth; half-finished sentences break off in the middle only to be replaced with another thought destined to go unfinished. You can’t focus on any of that, though, not with the sparks his touch ignites across your skin as he explores you. He begs you to let him eat you out, honeyed words falling from sin slick lips, and the second you whisper a rough ‘fuck yes’, you find yourself being manhandled off of his lap. Adrian presses you back against the cushions and rips your shorts and underwear down your thighs, tossing them to the floor as if being in the way of your drenched cunt is a crime against humanity.

“I always knew you would have a pretty pussy,” Adrian says so matter of factly - as if those words don’t send a flush of embarrassed heat flushing up to your cheeks. He pulls your thighs up onto his shoulders, his gaze shimmering with lust as he studies you intently, and you can’t help but squirm in his firm grip. “So needy, huh? Gotta tell me, baby, tell me what you need and I’ll give you everything -”

His hair feels like silk between your fingers as you pet his curls back from his forehead and his rambling stutters to a stop. “Adrian, honey?”

“Yeah?” He whispers.

“I need you to eat me out.” You ask, sweet as honey, and Adrian practically melts for you. He tugs you down a little further by your thighs and doesn’t hesitate for a second. He looks too damn handsome like this - chest heaving with excited breaths, crooked glasses, excitement dancing across his features - but you don’t have long to appreciate it. The moment the wet heat of his tongue teases your clit, your eyes flutter closed and your mind shuts off. The rest of the world disappears - every worry, every stress, every fear falls away under the pleasure invading your senses. “Oh, Adrian.”

Just the sound of you moaning his name is enough to spur him on. He’s imagined it so many times - mostly when he’s jerking off in the shower or watching you handle a gun. The real thing is so much better. You are artwork he has been given the gift of touching with his bare hands and he never wants to stop. He wants everything you have to give and more, every inch of your body, every sweet word you speak, all of it. For now, though? Adrian settles for making you cry out his name over and over again.

The flat of his tongue circles your clit in steady swirls that have your back arching into him, greedily seeking more of his touch. Two fingers dip into your cunt, a tease of the stimulation you chase after, and before you can beg him to just fucking do it already, he sinks them down to the knuckle. The warm, hazy pleasure sharpens, twists into something more animal and aching as he curls his fingers up against the sensitive spot that makes your thighs tremble. You could smack him for ever even joking about being a bad lay - it takes a special kind of man to have you so fucked out of your mind that you can barely open your eyes.

You grind against his face mindlessly, already hurtling toward a devastating orgasm, and Adrian can’t stop himself from smiling at you. It’s fucking filthy to see that cocky little smirk while his face is buried between your thighs and you just know he’s never going to let this go. The suction of his lips envelops your clit and your nails dig into the fabric of the couch, your thighs nearly crushing Adrian’s head as you careen closer to that inevitable edge - but he doesn’t mind. He could die a happy man between those plush thighs.

A choked curse barely manages to pass your lips before molten hot pleasure bursts through your belly, sparks skittering up your spine as your body spasms. It’s debilitating as Adrian keeps going, tongue slowly laving against your clit as his fingers slow to a gentle roll. You squirm and jerk in his hold, not quite willing to give up the sensation of his mouth against you, all while broken praise falls from your lips.

“Perfect, that was - holy fuck, you’re perfect.” Your fingers loosen the tight grip on his hair and rub his head affectionately, a wordless apology for pulling so hard. Adrian soothes your overworked nerves with the burning heat of his tongue, gentle licks and sucks that have you trembling. It’s quite an effort to unclench your thighs from around his head and Adrian whines, entirely put out by the mere idea of leaving your drenched cunt. “Fuck, Adrian, fucking kiss me.”

That perks him up. Adrian presses a wet kiss low on your belly before he drags himself up your body to kiss your lips. His chin is slick and you can taste yourself on his tongue, and the obscenity of it makes you shiver. You smile against his lips, a pleasure-drunk little grin that makes him smile, too.

“I made you cum.” He chirps, pride bright in his eyes as he studies your wrecked state. He nips your jaw playfully. “I wanna do it again. Please? We can go to your bed so you’re more comfortable. This can’t be good for you back. Or! Or you could, uh, sit on my face. I just wanna make you cum on my face, however you want.”

“Next time,” You promise with a breathless laugh. Adrian whines again, a dismayed sound that threatens to make you change your mind right then and there. The hard press of his cock against your thigh keeps your one-track mind running, though. All you can think of is finally - finally - sinking onto his cock and feeling that perfect stretch that you have been aching for. Your thumb brushes over that sweet spot behind his ear and he leans into the touch, watching you with a needy expression that just begs you to give in.

Instead of giving in to the temptation of his puppy dog eyes, you let your fingers drift over the bulge in his jeans and revel in the sight of his jaw going slack. He grinds against your hand, burying his face into your chest with a low, ‘oh’. It seems to dawn on him just then that you’re still wearing a shirt - and that just won’t do. Adrian pushes your shirt up until you catch on and help him pull it completely off, and you swear you’ve never seen him move so fast. He cups your breasts with a reverently gentle touch, far softer than you thought him capable of. All it takes is a low sound vibrating through you for Adrian to step it up a notch and wrap his lips around your pert nipple.

It devolves from there into something mindlessly horny, the two of you grinding and groping like it’s the last chance you’ll ever have. It isn’t until you finally unzip his jeans that Adrian pulls away from you, albeit begrudgingly, to tear his clothes off and haul you into his lap - right where this entire tryst began, just with fewer clothes in the way. He’s all toned muscle and freckled skin and you just know you will never be able to get enough. You lean up on your knees and Adrian makes a helpless noise with your chest so close to his face. The wet heat of his mouth envelops your nipple once more, his eyes rolling up to look at you when you rock along the length of his cock.

Adrian mutters a muffled ‘please’, a sound so sweet you could never refuse. The sheer size of him is enough to have you shivering in delight as you sink onto his cock. Thimble. Complete fucking bullshit. Adrian’s fingers seize your hips in a tight grip and his head falls back against the cushions, eyes unfocused as he tries to resist fucking up into you. You’re still so sensitive from his talented mouth and fingers - the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. He huffs out a broken whisper that almost sounds like your name and despite the need coursing through your veins, you chuckle.

You finally have him speechless.

The first roll of your hips makes you both spit out curses. You’ve always imagined your first time with Adrian to be something soft, something easy, but the claws of lust have ensnared you both into a rabid, animal hunger neither of you can resist. A glint burns in his eyes the moment you jerk in his lap, his head tilting and eyebrows raising in a silent ask for permission. You barely manage a nod before he flashes you that boyish grin you fell for all those months ago. Adrian drags you into a harsh pace, bracing his thighs to fuck up into you. It hurts so fucking good - the harsh dig of his fingertips into your hipbones, the grinding of his cock against that sweet spot he already abused with his fingers, the blunt drag of his teeth along your collarbone.

One particularly rough thrust upward sends you off balance, a yelp tearing its way up your throat as you fall forward into his chest - and Adrian laughs. The little fucker laughs, his pace never faltering as he fucks you like it’s his last night on earth. His brain must have finally come back online, no longer buffering at the feeling of your hot cunt around his cock, and that mischievous look you love has returned.

“Fucked you stupid already?” He teases, voice choppy thanks to his rough thrusts. You can barely scoff at his smug attitude - because he’s right. All your mind can focus on is the warm rush of arousal humming through your body, stoked higher and higher with every roll of your hips. “You’re mine, aren’t ya? All mine to touch and fuck and love - fuck! You were made to take my cock. Perfect fucking pussy…”

“T-touch me, baby, please.” You guide his hand down between your legs and Adrian doesn’t pause for a millisecond. Those talented fingers glide through your cunt and zero in on your clit, rubbing rough circles into your still sensitive flesh. The sound that comes out of you is almost unrecognizable, a pornographic cry of ‘yes!’ that makes Adrian go even crazier. He watches with rapt attention as you grind into his touch, already addicted to how impossibly hot you look chasing after your high with his body.

The crest of your second orgasm hits so hard that tears spring into your eyes. Your nails dig into his shoulder as pleasure twists through your belly, leaving crescent moon marks on his pale skin. A wrecked sound falls from his lips and Adrian spits more jumbled, filthy praise about how good you feel cumming on his cock. You have to wrench his hand from between your thighs before he can make those tears fall, even though you know he would love to see it. He’s already cocky enough.

“That’s my girl.” Adrian groans, his pace falling into a sloppy, desperate race to the finish line. All it takes is the feeling of your mouth latching onto his neck, your teeth and tongue working in tandem to leave a few more marks for him to remember you by. His hips stutter and he holds you down on his cock, grinding up into you to push his cum as deep as he can.

“Holy shit.” He croaks after a moment’s quiet.

“Yeah,” You breathlessly agree.

A comfortable silence falls over the room. All you can hear are his steady breaths, the slowing of his heartbeat as he calms down. His warm palms slide up and down your back, a soothing gesture that has you melting into him even more, boneless and weak in the aftermath. It’s impossible not to ache for more of him; more kisses, more fleeting sweet touches, more kitten licks against your soft skin. Adrian notices. Of course, he does. He notices everything about you, he has from the very start. So he presses a kiss to your temple and another to your cheek before he even reaches your mouth, all too eager to give you everything you want and more.

It’s slow and sloppy, soaked in indulgence. It’s everything you have been dreaming of and more. It takes a moment for your body to cooperate but eventually, you manage to sit up and stretch your aching back. Adrian hums a dismayed little sound at the loss of your warmth but still smiles at you nonetheless, all sleepy and sated. His hair is a mess, glasses askew, cheeks still red from the exertion of fucking you so thoroughly.

You push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Tired?”

“Actually, I’m fucking starving.” Adrian’s eyes light up. “Wanna order Chinese food? That place over on Hawthorne is still open and they have eggrolls that make my dick hard, they’re so good.”

“Sure, Adrian.” You chuckle. “But you have to get dressed for they show up. Flashing is a crime, remember?”

“Aw, man.”

[quantumshade]

yeah yknow what ok i'll bite. with or without context, this post is extremely fucking racist. i didn't include the rest of it because i did not want anyone to harass anybody, and of all people, i know VERY well that posting publicly about someone you disagree with WILL get both them and you harassed. instead i made a somewhat catty post about a take that made me mad on my personal blog with no expectation of likes or reblogs, and in fact got far more attention than i ever intended. had i known this many people would see this post, i probably would have been a bit less vague. g-d forbid someone makes a post on the internet without fully explaining themself and all of the context every fucking time. anyway. sure, i'll talk about it in context. because the rest of this post doesn't change my opinion at all.

this post starts out by decrying christopher eccleston as a terrible person who hates fans and is really really mean to them, which is categorically untrue. nor is he "disdainful" about the show as a whole. he is open about his struggles with mental health, an eating disorder, and a bad environment on set during his time on the show, which he has every right to be. i personally have never heard of him being anything but lovely to fans, if a little blunt sometimes, but i think that's more just him as a person being kind of blunt. which i really don't think is a crime.

the post then accuses him of "downplaying" an accusation of sexual assault and insulting the woman who accused him and insinuates that he did assault her. this is, well, to put it in your words, classic shit stirring. it took what he said out of context to make him seem like a horrible person. what this comment is actually referring to is an interview eccleston did in january where he talked about the importance of intimacy coordinators on set when sex scenes are being filmed, and about one experience he had with an unnamed actress who accused him of inappropriately groping her during the scene in front of literally everybody on set, and that it's the most betrayed he's ever felt by another actor. at no point does he call her a bitch. he says he would rather put his hands in a blender than touch her or anybody else inappropriately like that. so far this post has framed chris eccleston as a horrible human being for practically no reason. can't wait to see what's next, i bet this will be a really meaningful take on misogyny in fandom.

next up we get a paragraph of good things jodie whittaker has done contrasted with a straw man hater who hates whittaker and wants her to fail and writes rape threats about her -- an EXTREMELY serious accusation here thrown out really nonchalantly in order to make the strawman hater seem even worse. not saying that's never happened, i'm sure it has, but i would hazard a guess that most people who talk about liking eccleston and gatwa are, for the most part, not the same people who act that vitriolic towards whittaker. gatwa and eccleston? those are two actors that are NEVER criticized on false standards by people with very obvious actual motivation for disliking them. the working class politically involved notherner who very adamantly and loudly stands up for the worker's rights of both himself and others in the industry, and the queer black refugee who is very open and unapologetic about these things. never.

this is sarcasm. op chose THE most loaded pair of actors they possibly could have to compare, and i can't imagine why they did that. the people who like eccleston and especially gatwa in the role as the doctor are not the same people who hated that the doctor was a woman.

the final part of the post, and the part i included in my own, again, admittedly catty post made out of frustration, opens by censoring ncuti gatwa's name, which i understand is #hater culture or whatever, but like. in this instance? is horrifically fucking racist. it then insinuates that he's a bad person (?) for jokingly calling the doctor slutty, which.... do you not see that this is a really bad way to treat an openly queer actor. when queer people are called groomers for existing on a daily basis. and on top of that, it flat out accuses him of not taking the role seriously. i cannot imagine what would make someone think this, having watched gatwa in the role. what about him makes them think he doesn't take it seriously? is it the way he talks? the way he acts in interviews? because in that case i don't think you have a problem with how he treats the character. i think you have a problem with him.

i like jodie whittaker. i think she is a fantastically talented actress when given the chance to be (seriously, go watch her antigone if you haven't. funnily enough chris eccleston is in it too.) on top of that she seems like a lovely human being with enthusiasm for her work and love for fans pouring out of her, and i really really admire that about her. i don't think any actor needs to have encyclopedic knowledge of the show in order to play the doctor, because that's ridiculous. they're actors. their job is to act. it's a WRITER'S job to give them material to act with, and that's a job i think chibnall failed miserably at. with a good writer, someone can join the show with absolutely no knowledge of it and do incredibly well, such as, famously, catherine tate. who, last i checked, is also a woman. (interestingly, matt smith had also not watched the show before being cast, but he's not mentioned here.) it's not and has never been whittaker’s fault i don't like the era, and i have never said otherwise. nor has anyone in my social circle.

my post isn't saying it's bad to talk about the misogyny jodie experienced. it's saying that dragging down two other actors, who are already criticized under false pretenses all the time, FOR NO FUCKING REASON to make her look better is bad. being racist towards ncuti gatwa in order to make the misogyny directed towards jodie whittaker seem worse... is bad. big fucking whoop. this post was racist towards ncuti gatwa, which you admitted. your problem is that you seem to be willing to forgive that racism in order to listen to what this person has to say about misogyny, when i would argue that being racist makes me discard the opinion of the post entirely. because they were being fucking racist. to which all i can say is:

you have put a lot of words in my mouth that i did not say, and i don't appreciate it. at no point did i accuse people who like thirteen of inherently being racist. when i say "chibnall fans", as i often do on this blog, i mean people who lick the man's boots and think he's g-d's gift to television and can do no wrong.

i am not trying to "pit fans against each other" -- i am pointing out a pattern of racism that is extremely common in every fan space on the internet, and, as i've noticed over the last five years, often goes practically completely unchecked by people who are hardcore fans of the chibnall era. and a lot of those fans will take ANY excuse to raise up their favorites, even at the expense of being outwardly racist. notice i said often. not all. if you like both thirteen and fifteen and you are not saying this kind of racist garbage in order to make your favorite look good, and none of your friends or the people you follow are saying this shit, then congratulations. this post isn't about you.

on top of that the idea of "profit" is laughable. i could not give less of a shit about the number of notes i get. do you really think if i wanted social capital, i would be posting on tumblr about doctor who. get real.

sorry for taking the original post out of context, since the rest of it makes it so much better and DEFINITELY not way worse. (sorry, sarcasm again. including the context does make it worse actually.) i apologize for being a little flippant on my tumblr post. i should have remembered the number one rule and not accused anybody of pissing on the poor.

chibnall fans when they get a chance to be racist to the young queer black man who took the role after their cishet white woman fav left

[mahoutoons]

you know what, i'm gonna say it. the sonic fandom is sexist as fuck. as someone who's been here for years, i've seen the way y'all treat male characters vs female characters.

when male characters like knuckles and shadow are written in an unflattering way- such as shadow beinf unnecessarily edgy and knuckles being a complete dimwit - y'all are so quick to say "blame the writers, not the character!!" but when female characters like amy are written in an unflattering, suddenly that logic goes out the window and amy has always been a selfish bitch who only cares about sonic.

and speaking of amy, y'all are too comfortable acting like her character revolves around sonamy and nothing else. i'll never forget when the sonic frontiers trailer came out and amy was confirmed as the voice, y'all scrambled for evidence that the voice wasn't actually her but some ghost girl from some 4chan leaks, even going so far as to accuse the official social media team of lying when they confirmed it was her. all because y'all didn't want a ship you hate to become canon. shipping has rotten y'alls brains.

lets also talk about the new imposter syndrome issue. people were upset about how easily metal sonic was defeated. which yeah, i can understand, i know what its likw to have your favourite character be done dirty. but on the other hand, i never saw all of this complaining when scourge was easily able to overpower sonic and friends. no one talked about how op he was.

i recently saw a tweet praising surge saying that she's a female rival with sonic's potential and people immediately started bringing up blaze and saying she "did it better". sonic has had multiple male rivals who could keep up with him and no one compared them. i've never seen anyone say knuckles "did it better" than shadow or bice versa. but the moment he has more than one female rival you have to make it a competition.

everything about the sonic girls has to be a competition, and not even in just a shipping sense. you've got amy vs sally, amy vs blaze, surge vs blaze. you never see competitions like this for the male characters.

and ever notice how its always the female characters being hated on in shipping wars? applies to every fandom honestly.

i can't forget the slut shaming sally and rouge received. some people STILL see rouge as just "boobs the bat" when she's so much more than that. as for sally, i can't remember people complaining about the male sonic characters not wearing clothes. why does sally get hated on for it?

i'm talking about the fandom here but honestly the franchise kinda plays a part in all this sexism. the way i can only think of four major recurring female characters - amy, blaze, rouge, and cream - compared to the amount of male characters this franchise has. and those four are not even treated well. i have an entire essay on how amy rose is probably one of the most mistreated characters in this franchise. and the other three aren't treated any better.

also ever notice how every time amy's role of reminding shadow of his true purpose is taken from her, it was a male character who replaced her (chris in x, sonic in archie)? it shows that sega sees their female characters' roles as expendable, unless they serve as a love interest. and yes, i'm blaming sega because they allowed this shit to happen.

if i can say anything positive, at least the sexism isn't as bad as it was before. but its still there. people may want to deny it, but this fandom does have a sexism problem.

[syms-things-5]

TO THE WIRE

A Chris Evans / Call of Duty AU Fic

My Masterlist can be found HERE, where this will be added.

Part One: It’s All In The Detail

Part Two: Where There’s smoke...

Note: Not sure where I’m going with this but I’ve been a fan of his C.O.D. look since I first saw it. Hopefully, this looks promising but rather than an ongoing series, I see it more as a series of one- or two-shots. Part One is below and Part Two will follow next Sunday following my final spot of editing.

Theme: Enemies to friends to (eventual) lovers. Chris has an ego and believes his own hype, and Martha needs to get a life for herself.

Warnings: Strong language

Word Count: 5.1k

Part One: It’s All In The Detail

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” came Martha’s exasperated response, hands gripped tightly onto her hips as she did her very best to attempt a more aggressive stance than she was altogether comfortable with. “Months of hard work and now it’s done, just like that?” 

She wasn’t sure why she was even questioning it. She could believe it – and expect it – as it had been the case for her on more than one occasion over the last 12 months and she was getting tired of it. She was getting tired of being side-lined.

“I’m sorry. The decision has been made and it’s for your own safety.”

“But what could have possibly changed in the last twenty-four hours?”

It was a valid question and for a brief moment she felt a surge of confidence in her frustration.

Tanner, the shortish, greying intellectual currently sat behind the broad desk that separated them like a protective barrier, appeared resolute in his decision. Even if he had doubts, he wouldn’t let them show. His posture remained relaxed as he leaned back in his leather recliner having barely flinched or moved in the time since she had barged into his office, disappointment etched across her fine features, staring him down like he had just insulted her grandmother. Instead, he regarded her respectfully and with some semblance of understanding of her disappointment at being frozen out yet again from a mission she had worked very hard on. It made her feel a little guilty at her verbal outburst although he had probably heard much, much worse in his forty-plus years with the CIA. He himself had told her as much.

She wasn’t sure if this apparent show of empathy was a good or a bad thing. It certainly didn’t serve to make her feel any better. Deep down, she knew Tanner knew what he was doing. He always gave considered thought to the decisions he made; he wouldn’t be where he was now if he hadn’t. Even deeper down, she knew she wasn’t going to succeed in changing his mind.

“You know as well as I do that intel can change with no notice.” He explained calmly in his soft, Texan drawl. “It’s never ideal to change the format of a mission at any stage of the play but we do what we have to do with what we are given. The team has reason to believe that Haltzar is shifting gear and making a move to exit this Friday night. If we don’t get him then, our chances at ever bringing in Haltzar disappear in the dark, and his little black book goes with him.”

She could appreciate the nuances that went into a plan like this. In just eighteen months, Martha had gone from being a well-liked but rather inconsequential (her words) doctor at Newman & Grey Hospital, working all the shifts she could manage to avoid being home alone with only her thoughts for company, to a valued member of a CIA ‘Special Ops’ Unit that specialised in dealing with situations far beyond the capabilities of ordinary law enforcement. Or so she thought she was.

She listened to Tanner letting her down gently like she was being told she couldn’t have the bike she wanted for Christmas. She also couldn’t shake the feeling this was yet another attempt by Chris Evans to phase her out. She realised she appeared like she was throwing a tantrum because she couldn’t get her own way. It was embarrassing and it made her feel like shit. It wasn’t what she was aiming for when she woke up earlier that morning.

“Listen, Martha, this is in no way a reflection of your work but some people have expressed concern that your being there would draw unwanted attention-”

“-Some people? You mean Chris-”

“-Especially if a member of Haltzar’s crew recognises you from their own intel.” Tanner finished his argument, choosing to ignore hers. “We can’t forget they have been here a long time. They will have scoped the place out for themselves, several times, and if they see you at the hospital, the whole game is up and we’ll have lost nearly eighteen months of work for nothing. I’d like to see you try to explain that to Homeland Security.”

Martha paused in her tracks and tried to avoid Tanner’s careful, sympathetic gaze. Shaking her head in defeat, she loosened her hands from her hips and let them fall limply to her side as she took on board Tanner’s reasoning. Just as she was about to express an apology for her blatant lapse of professionalism in the face of a man who could probably buy and sell what was left of her own family, a lowly whistle came from somewhere close behind her.

Stood still in the corner of Tanner’s office, one boot resting on the panelled wall as though he gave not one care for the probable cost of having his dusty Size 12s scratch the paint off, Chris murmured his disapproval of Martha. She couldn’t quite bring herself to acknowledge his presence, though, preferring to leave him brooding quietly as she attempted to make her way out of the office unscathed.

Even now, after he had sullenly made himself known, she preferred not having to deal with the sight of his smug face at this time of the morning. She could sense him, though. You could always sense when Evans was nearby so it was a complete and utter joke that Tanner was now claiming that she might be the one who would draw attention.

“Well, I would probably call into question the reasons why some people might see me being there as a problem.” She stated matter-of-factly, the words coming out of her mouth before she had the time to edit them. Or stop them altogether as she was quickly wishing she could.

“I’m right here, McLachlan.” Came his bristly tone in response, clearly having had enough of her obstinance.

“Yes, I know, Chris. It’s very hard to miss you.” She snapped, finally conceding to him. All she got in return was a dismissive glare. It only served to wind her up even more.

“Then ask me directly.”

She looked at him again but chose to bite her tongue, not wanting to rise to his bait.

“Why are you pushing for this?” Chris pressed. “You know we make the calls and the call is that your efforts are no longer required. We have everything in place, you’ll just take up space, space that we don’t have. Congratulations, McLachlan, you have the night off. Go out and celebrate.”

Martha could feel herself stiffen from his petulance. It was an all-too-familiar feeling that she was growing tired of.

“Yes, you’ve made that more than clear.” She retorted.

She let out the last of her breath that she’d been holding and gathered herself before she turned back to face Tanner. She struggled to meet his eye for a brief second but no amount of re-focussing herself could take away from the disappointment she was feeling inside.

“I guess there’s nothing left I can say.” She finally acquiesced and nodded once to Tanner, who reciprocated with what she thought was a small hint of regret. She didn’t exactly mean it but nevertheless it seemed like the professional thing to do.

She caught Chris’ eye once again before she fully departed the room but neither was willing to give the other the satisfaction of acknowledgment.

“You could go easier on her. We need someone like her in the team. She’s very good at her job.” Tanner said when he was confident that she was no longer within earshot.

“So are a lot of people but it doesn’t mean they all get to be invited along for the ride.”

“She’s helped this team a lot over the past couple of years.” Said Tanner, pointedly ignoring Chris’ last words.

“Then we’ll have a whip-round and sign a card.” Chris shrugged. He dropped his foot from the wall and casually made the few steps to where he stood in front of Tanner’s desk.

“That’s very grateful of you, Christopher. Remind me, who removed the bullet from your shoulder in Detroit?”

Chris paused at Tanner’s annoying ability for recall. How was he expected to respond to that?

“That’s what she’s paid to do.” Chris conceded. “But we can’t pretend that she has even half the training my guys have. By anyone’s standards, this is a quiet, safe mission. You said so yourself. No one is going to get injured, so…she’s surplus to requirements. End of discussion.”

“And what about next time? What about when you or one of your boys needs medical assistance and you’re hiding out in some cave in Iran? You think Dave or Benji will be able to cope?”

“Benji served two tours in Afghanistan. I think he can deal with a bandage.” Chris attempted to shrug Tanner off once more.

“Or what about when one of your guys trips a wire and threatens to set off a landmine?”

Chris couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You think she’s a bomb disposal expert all of a sudden?”

“No, she isn’t, but she could be.” Tanner posed, choosing to ignore the scoff that just emanated from Chris’ direction. “This is my point, Chris. There are very few people left in this country that can do what you and this team does, I get that, but it would be a wise and valuable idea to at least consider the future. Consider protecting this team’s legacy, your legacy, and pay attention to the possibilities of who is available and who can be trained that could handle these same pressures.”

Chris’ hands found their way to his hips and Tanner knew he’d likely pushed his luck. Still, he said what needed to be said. It was common knowledge around these parts that Chris had an ego that needed to be kept in check, and Tanner seemed to be the only person to do it.

“I don’t doubt that an ER is a tough environment but let’s not pretend a medical degree is in any way a viable substitute for the nerve and intuition this team has.”

“She’s a doctor, Chris. I think nerve and intuition are parts of her job specification.”

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it-”

“-We can’t afford to lose her, Chris,” Tanner interrupts “Or Carl for that matter, so I’d strongly advise you to play nicely with them both from here on out.”

Tanner leaned forward in his recliner and pulled his glasses down from the top of his head. Chris watched as he took the fountain pen from its holder and opened the leather-bound file that had been sat on his desk all morning, awaiting his attention.

It was as clear an indication as possible that their conversation was now over but Chris struggled to accept not having the last word. Regardless, he unclenched his jaw and turned to vacate his office, leaving Tanner to glance at the back of his protégé’s head before getting back to work. 

 *

Chris waited for the heavy-set door to shut behind him completely before he placed his hands back on his hips and breathed in deeply to steady his nerve. He glanced to either side of him to make sure Claire wasn’t in earshot before he muttered a ‘fuck’ under his breath.

Chris was sure the only reason Tanner kept Claire around was because she had the ears of a bat and could pick up on people’s frustrations from a mile away. It certainly wasn’t for her administrative skills, that was for sure. At the age of 52, she’d all but given up on learning how to use email instead favouring the Victorian-era fax machine they were for forbidden from upgrading.

He didn’t like having his work called into question, and he certainly didn’t like it coming from a junior. Martha wasn’t even a fully-fledged member of the team; she was unofficial and part-time at best and he found himself growing increasingly aggravated by her presence. He wasn’t sure why Tanner expected him to just put up with her. It wasn’t like she offered anything he couldn’t get from someone else. She was a hassle he didn’t need at this time of his life.

As he felt his pulse beat in his ears, he took a few more calming breaths and tried as hard as he could to unclench his jaw again. Somewhere down the corridor to his left, he heard doors shut and he felt his irritation kick in.

“You really need to knock this off, McLachlan.” He announced as he burst into the changing room.

“Excuse me?” Martha turned from where she was perched on the edge of the bench, surprised to see him stood in front of her once again. She was just 5 minutes from leaving the building and getting back to the relative sanctity of the hospital so it was totally unfair that she had to speak to him again.

“This interruption you’ve got going on all the damn time. It’s not helpful. You’re just making things more difficult than they need to be.” He took another step towards her, almost concealing her in his shadow. “I don’t appreciate it.”

Martha wasn’t sure if she had missed a conversation in the few minutes since she had left Tanner’s office. She had walked away in full understanding that it was to be business-as-usual and she wouldn’t be needed until the next time. She didn’t much like it but she accepted it. She thought she’d made that part obvious at least.

“Look, I was merely asking why I was no longer being considered for the mission and I think it was a valid question. I wasn’t trying to be difficult, or-”

“That’s the thing, McLachlan. You don’t try to be anything. You just are. I swear you exist just to piss me off.”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” She physically recoiled at his tone. “It wasn’t like I was doing this on purpose.”

She looked away from him and back down to her laced-up plimsolls.

“Sometimes, I think you just want to be annoyed about something. If anyone needs a night off, it’s you.”

“Be careful who you’re talking to, McLachlan.”

“Or what?” She flinched, surprised by her own candour. Yet again, she spoke faster than her brain could catch up with.

Martha watched as he was stopped in his tracks. She felt her shoulders shift, trying to drain herself of this interaction with him. At times, it was an effort to merely exist in the same room as him.

He wasn’t expecting the retort and he certainly wasn’t expecting her to question his authority in this manner.

“It’s not my choice having you here, McLachlan, but it certainly will be having you removed if I have anything to do with it.” He was speaking far quieter this time, a gentle intimidation that she assumed was normally reserved for those he was questioning. Or worse. “Quit crying when you don’t get your own way.”

“I wasn’t crying. Sir.” She spoke again in equally hushed tones.

She swore to whoever was up there that she wasn’t deliberately trying to provoke him, but it seemed to be the only language he understood.

After another silent moment passed, he huffed out something that resembled amusement. “Close enough.”

She kept her feet rooted to the spot and refused to look away. Whether it was some vain attempt at essaying confidence, or she just genuinely couldn’t move, she didn’t know.

“This isn’t personal.” He rationalised. “This is serious stuff. I can’t afford to babysit you.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being patronising on purpose or if it just comes naturally to you.”

“Fuck around and find out.”

“Oh, real mature.” She rolled her eyes at him. She got up from her seat and turned to grab her hoodie hanging on the hook inside her locker.

Carl chose that moment to make his appearance from behind the row of lockers. He coughed a fake cough that was almost comical in its execution, briefly unnerving Chris. Carl wasn’t exactly aiming towards Chris either, rather just making his presence known in case Martha had forgotten about him.

Chris looked quickly between Martha and Carl, unaware he had been there. He hid the surprise from his face quite well, keeping his features as straight as possible. Had she known he was there this entire time? What was her game?

“Get your stuff and go home.” He instructed, standing taller than before, returning his gaze back to her. “I’ll deal with you another time.”

He turned on his heels and strode out of the locker room in such few steps, it was almost impressive. To Carl, anyway. Carl was easily impressed at the best of times but working for someone who had received a medal from the President of the United States nearly tipped him over the edge.

Martha slammed the door of her locker with some force, startling Carl in the process.

“Everything OK?” he asked cautiously when the room fell silent again. He knew the answer.

“Not exactly.” Was all she could give back to him.

He thought better of pushing her again, He watched as she moved to stand in front of the mirror that took up almost one whole side of their small changing room. It was a crowded room on account of various equipment cupboards that had been moved in months earlier because, apparently, there was no room left anywhere in the on-site training facility. Martha was convinced it was yet another attempt by Evans of pushing them aside, though, and you couldn’t tell her otherwise.

She stared at herself in contemplation. “I need to go back to the office before I leave, OK?”

“Um, yeh, sure.” Came Carl’s hesitant reply. “Shall I just meet you by the car, then?” But she had already left.

He wasn’t sure what the purpose of her returning to the office was and he dearly hoped she wasn’t going to rile Evans up any more than he already was.

Layer upon layer of coloured and black-and-white photographs stared back at her. She followed the direction of the white ink that lined them all up, connecting the dots both physically and metaphorically. Prints of the town grid and an image featuring the schematics of the local Newman and Grey Hospital were kept separate on one side. In the centre of it all, was Haltzar.

By anyone’s basic understanding, Alek Haltzar was a dangerous man. He was exceptionally tall, standing at over 6ft 5in, and was just shy of 50 years old. When Haltzar wasn’t indulging in Arms trafficking and attempting to corrupt local politicians in neighbouring countries, he enjoyed playing chess competitively and was a single father to three children. It was this latter role that he took more seriously than that which brought him his billion-dollar fortune.

The children’s mother had died in a freak boating accident when their youngest son had turned just four years’ old. She had been the love of Haltzar’s life and her death had devastated both him and the boys. Ever since, he had vowed to dedicate his life and his many, many millions to charity to honour her memory. It was a fast about-turn that stood ill at ease with his previous profession.

He was also gravely ill.

Some four years before today, he had discovered he had been living with a rare form of cancer following what should have been a routine prostate exam. The best scientists and doctors he could find could provide no clue as to its course of treatment, and could not stop it from spreading further.

He went underground for a short while afterwards, trying his hand with any experimental drug and therapy he could find, but when nothing appeared to work, he did what any other person with the means to do so would do and relocated his family to the US. Washington DC to be exact.

DC had been home to the estimable Newman and Grey, a hospital devoted to advancing medical research and theory around some of the body’s most destructive diseases for nearly sixty years. Originally named after Sir Peter Newman, the hospital could now also claim itself as home to the Nobel Prize-winning mind of Professor Alan Grey, a man responsible for, among other things, his incredible work developing the technique that would later create the MRI machine, an epic scientific breakthrough in the late-Seventies that allowed the diagnosis of patients via non-invasive means.

So, leaving behind his work, his varied and dubious connections to some of the world’s most powerful people, and his entire life it seemed, Haltzar uprooted his family to Washington a little over two years ago. Whatever the likelihood, he moved in an attempt to access the experimental treatments Prof. Taylor had been studying and testing with some degree of success.

His sudden arrival in the US caused as close a thing to a “stir” as Martha reasoned was possible given his identity was genuinely unknown to almost everyone except those who worked inside the CIA. According to them, this move was very much a last-ditch attempt at saving his own life so his beloved children wouldn’t have to grow up without a parent. If he hadn’t been responsible for aiding and abetting several war criminals over the last twenty years, one could be forgiven for feeling just a little bit sorry for him.

Martha supposed she could understand to some degree his reasons for moving to the area. After all, she had done much the same thing as him, just minus the murders and the bribery.

After completing her MD in Boston, she wanted desperately to exist somewhere in Prof. Grey’s orbit if only on the periphery of him and his team. She had lived and breathed his theses and work during her studies, and had arrived at the hospital five years back after she took on a role as an Emergency Doctor in the hospital’s ER. It was a tough baptism of fire for want of a better phrase but Carl had befriended her and the pair of them soon formed an alliance which kept the ER moving at a pace that could hopefully cope with the volume of admissions.

“I’m sure they had their reasons.”

She could hear Carl’s voice in the back of her mind. He was a nice guy, Martha thought, but dear God he could be a push-over at times. Why did he suck up to Evans so much all the time? Tanner, she could understand, but Evans? The guy had an ego the size of the state. He was a jerk. Martha lost count of the people flinging themselves at his feet everywhere he went, Carl notwithstanding, and she could never work it out.

“I’m gonna level with you, Martha,” Carl had said after hearing Martha’s protests earlier that afternoon. “I’ve got zero interest in carrying a gun with me for the next week just in case a goddamn psychopath may or may not turn up to the hospital. That is way above my pay grade. This is why we pay our taxes, so that men like Evans can do the risky work for us.” He turned back to the computer screen in front of him. “And that suits me just fine.”

“But we’re the ones who’ve put this all together.” She argued back at him. “They would never have known about the drug trials if it wasn’t for us and Taylor.”

“Yeh, and the locations and the money and the hospital plans? That’s all them.” He reasoned. “Think of it like anything else we do. We take X-Rays, we take bloods, we make the diagnosis, then we pass the patient over to the right consultant who uses all of that information to make the person better. We still get the credit, we just don’t have to do all of the graft.”

Martha despaired as she stared up at the board. It was all pointless now anyway. 

 *

Haltzar had been living in the quiet but glossy suburb of Chesapeake Beach. It was one of the wealthiest areas in Maryland and was home to several retired businessmen who liked to keep one eye on the New York Stock Exchange whilst making their way around a golf course.

According to Tanner, Haltzar had been photographed several times visiting his oldest son who had enrolled at Notre Dame almost as soon as they had arrived in the area. He had been seen attending their sports matches, visiting a local library, even mowing the lawn outside his home. One photograph Martha had originally lingered on showed him in a car parked outside a Walmart.

He was quite literally hiding in plain sight.

But, as Tanner had supposed, that was easy to do when your Head of Security was also an ex-Black Ops member. Evans thought he had recognised him from his early days on combat duty but ultimately uncovered nothing they could use to get close to Haltzar from the inside.

Walmart was the one image she found herself fixating on over and over again at random times of the day. It was the thing she was thinking about now as she found herself sat behind the reception desk in the ER that Thursday evening.

The clock was ticking by slowly and the expected onslaught of patients never materialised. The team was grateful for the break but Martha hated sitting around doing nothing. Her admin was up to date as always, she’d triple-checked the stock cupboards, and had grown tired of watching the kettle boil for the fourth time having offered to make yet another round of tea for everyone.

It was a weird evening. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Maybe it was just because it was a Thursday and Thursday seemed too early in the week for people to find a thrill in the weekend. Thursday proved a weird limbo for a lot of people in this town it would seem.

“You should bring a book, M.” Simone called out from the chair a few feet behind her. “I’m reading Catch-22 at the moment. It’s pretty damn good.”

“Didn’t you read that in high school?” Martha asked, snapped from her momentary daydream.

“Yeh but it was pretty dull back then. This time, I’m really appreciating the critique of authority more than before. I tell ya, it is 100% relatable.”

Martha could share in the joke knowing precisely what she was getting at. Simone was adept at the art of the passive-aggressive remark and was a welcome, contrasting energy to the usual politics that went on underneath this roof.

“Seriously, though,” Simone continued. “You wanna go take a nap or something? It’s gonna be hours before we finish here and I can handle things for a bit.”

Martha contemplated her kind offer. She figured she could be bored here or bored in a quiet room where she could mess about on her phone, maybe plan a holiday she knew she wouldn’t take. It didn’t really matter either way but she would at least feel a bit less guilty about it if she wasn’t fussing on her phone in plain sight of the few patients who had taken up space in a couple of bays.

Looking towards the few patients they had admitted that evening, she clocked them each lying quietly on their respective beds, calm and peaceful. Just what they liked to see. A couple of them had been hooked up to blood pressure machines that took intermittent readings and beeped out accordingly, and the other guy was sat up in his bay and reading a magazine upside down, the drugs perhaps causing him to feel a little drowsy. She wouldn’t hold it against him.

“Thanks. I won’t be too long.”

“Take as long as you need, chick.”

Simone turned back to the paperwork in front of her as Martha vacated the squared-in desk formation that created their excuse for a reception.

Taking the long, quiet walk down the corridors to reach the staff quarters took longer than usual. Her phone was clasped in her hand and she’d picked up a glass of water on the way. She held the doors open for Paul, the porter, as he transported some equipment to another ward a few floors up. He had been too polite to let her help him the rest of the way, despite her offer.

Finding herself at a loose end, she locked the door behind her and chose the single bed closest to the radiator. The heat would help lull her to sleep, she thought, and she could while away a couple of hours before she returns to the main ward to see what might await her. Was it wrong that she hoped something a little more dramatic might break up the monotony of the shift?

He was reading it upside down.

Wait.

On more than one occasion she had spotted him scanning the ER. She had thought he was just waiting for a relative to arrive or perhaps waiting for his SHO to return with some test results, but…he wasn’t confused. The drugs weren’t causing him to feel lethargic or muddled; they weren’t strong enough to do that.

Why had she negated to think that before now?

She held her fingers to the side of her forehead, hastily rolling back through her memories of the last couple of hours.

The three men had each arrived separately but only within about twenty minutes of each other. They all claimed various minor upsets that although were a little uncommon to be accidental, were nevertheless ailments the team had handled thousands of times before. After all, they weren’t there to question anyone; they were there to do their job and fix what was wrong with them.

Martha didn’t pretend to know the intricacies of the Agency’s work but she was still able to note their boots were in fact of the same make and all were clean and shiny, as though they had each just left the shop before they found themselves at Newman’s.

“Jerry?” She called out hurriedly as soon as she heard the other line click on.

“Oh hey Martha! What’s up?” Came the friendly, chirpy response from perhaps the only man in the Unit that maybe didn’t hate her guts.

“You guys need to get down here. Now.”

*

[bucketofdeltav]

Fellow kiwi here - donating to political parties is absolutely a thing you can do if you have spare cash. In 2023, ACT pulled in $4,262,712.66 in donations. Greens got $3,314,650.60. Labour got $4,769,395.26. National got $10,383,230.39. NZ First got $1,877,416.69. This is all public information, details here: https://elections.nz/democracy-in-nz/political-parties-in-new-zealand/party-donations-and-loans-by-year/

Donations are how parties pay for election campaigns. Ads are expensive. Traveling around shaking hands and asking people to vote for you is expensive. The current government could afford to do MORE THAN TWICE AS MUCH of all that as Labour and the Greens together.

You probably can't do anything to remove the current government before they're ready to go, sadly, but you can help with not letting them get away thinking they're popular, and you can help lay the groundwork for this bullshit never happening again.

Here are some things you can do from home with an internet connection and some free time:

Make submissions on any bills that seem relevant. Here's the website.

If you really have time, you can help prepare and spread submissions guides - post on any social media channels you use 'hey, here's this bill, here's what's wrong with it, here's what you can say in your submission, and here are reputable sources talking about why it's bad'. I've done this a couple times and got some traction and got people to make submissions who otherwise wouldn't have.

Find the local branch of your preferred political party - we're not America, it doesn't have to be Labour, just someone Labour can work with. Full disclosure, I'm a member of the Green party. Ask your local branch how you can help. Phone banking in election years is incredibly useful. Join the policy review or development team to help prepare sound policy to campaign on next time.

If you're employed, find out which union represents you, join them, and push your local rep to actually be useful - National is trying to tear down worker rights, and we're stronger together.

Write to Parliament. Write to any MP. Write to all of them. You can email for free, or write on paper for the cost of the paper - free postage to Parliament. Do not let them get away with thinking they're doing this shit unopposed. Tell Chris Hipkins you want him to act like he's in Opposition once in a while. Tell the Greens to get their shit together.

Tell your local MP in exact, polite, and professional language what they're doing that you don't support and what you want them to do instead. I grew up in a house full of Nats so just as a note - 'I am trans and disabled' does not make these people listen to you. 'I am your constituent and I am Disappointed and will tell everyone I know how Disappointed I am and how much you are not representing their interests' just might.

Stuff you can do reasonably safely (not a protest, not even adjacent to illegal) but you will have to leave the house:

Find out if there's a local pataka kai, community garden, food bank, or other group helping feed the hungry. Offer to help.

Find out if there's an op-shop, mutual aid network, or other group helping people. Offer to help.

Find out if there's a local conservation group. Offer to help.

The last three have in common that they're often organized by older people and often need volunteers who are computer and IT literate!

Ask your nearest marae if there's anything you can do to help them. Marae are awesome community focal points, and while they don't always want Pakeha hanging around, it's worth asking.

Basically, find out who the helpers are in your immediate community, and pitch in with them. Decide in advance whether you're comfortable helping a religious organization if it turns out the major helpers are religious.

If you can't do any of those things, do still contact your preferred political party and see if they can find you something to do.

Sincere question: what are we supposed to do?

I hate the idea of dealing with this for another three years. This government is actively rushing into law every little thing they can to tear away our rights. All because a handful of centrists conveniently forgot what National and co were like last time and how they behaved during lockdown.

But like, what do we do? Americans talk about "call your representatives" and "donate" but that's not a thing here.

The idea of donating to a party is frankly absurd to me and the obsession with donations in US campaigning makes me ask "what are you doing with your government funds??" The only time donations come up here is on the corporate level.

I also don't know what it means to "call your representatives". My local MP? The last time I tried contacting my MP was when National was cutting funding to adult education and it ended my tertiary education early. My family sent a letter to them and we were told to fuck off.

My current MP is a National member. I don't think they'll be convinced to listen to their empathy.

I also cannot protest. I am trans and physically disabled. I live in a small town and personally feel very recognisable in-person. (Which is really bizarre as someone that can't remember human faces for shit.) But it overall it makes me both a mark for violence and unable to conveniently slip into the masses of protest.

I feel powerless and afraid and it's eating me up inside.