#Ghost doctors: >:( it's mandatory

[starwrighter]

You know what I love in DpxDc crossovers?

When people explain Jason's pit madness as having to do with ectoplasm. Whether it be the hc that the pits are corrupted ectoplasm, Jason being a revenant before being dunked in the pits or any other idea/theory I love it all!

But you know what I don't see much of? The pit madness being seen as something more clinical. In most of the DpxDc crossovers I've read it's always treated as something that can be easily and quickly fixed. I don't see much content about Jason's pit madness being treated like an serious illness and it's honestly underrated.

Make his pit madness be like cancer for ghost's. Something spread throughout his body like a fucked up spider web slowly killing him as it continues to go untreated. Making his life emotionally and oftentimes physically painful. Have Jason assume his pain is just the consequences of his vigilante life since nobody could ever diagnose him with anything.

Danny feeling heartbroken when he sees Jason not because he can sniff it out or sense it but because he can see it. Oftentimes cancer doesn't show symptoms until it's advanced. For Danny this is like seeing someone who's medical treatment has been so neglected that they're covered in tumors! Danny screaming bloody murder at Bruce for allowing things to get this far; for not getting him help and allowing things to fester like this. Danny's ugly crying because he's a child and he doesn't know how to react to something like this! It's a horrifying sight when medical care is neglected, but seeing someone suffering so much without even knowing what's going on? It's terrifying.

Jason trying to comfort Danny but Danny just starts crying harder because Jason doesn't know what the hell is going on and someone has to be the one to tell him.

Treat Jason's pit madness as a symptom of something bigger, not something that can be fixed with the flick of a wrist. Show me the grief of having a loved one/being the loved one suffering from something that has a good chance of killing them. Where the treatment can make you feel worse than the disease does sometimes. Seeing a loved one get weaker and weaker yet reassuring yourself it's just the process of healing and they're going to be fine.

Have it be something that's treatment is long and strenuous, something that might need surgery to fix. Jason needing a bone marrow transplant or an organ and Danny being the only halfa that's willing to give it to him. Jason having to choose whether he's willing to risk a child's life to save himself or if he's just going to die a second time.

(Bonus! Have Jason deny the operation but Doctors work differently in the realms so it's done anyway without his consent. Does Jason think Danny died from the operation? Maybe it's some important ghost bone marrow/organ and the doctors being dodgey and refusing to let anyone see Danny before he's recovered enough? Jason grieving over a child and lashing out because "why would anyone decide the life of a child was something you could throw away like that!")

[beloveds-embrace]

Idgaf abt how military works sorry yall but imagine the 141 gang having to do mandatory charity and no, not even Ghost can opt out of it regardless of how he says he’s honest to god not fucking fit to be visiting sick patients. But alas.

But they end up meeting you- frail, fragile, and sick you, no visitors around you. Though you look at them with curiosity and admiration, you keep yourself away, almost as if you don’t want to bother them.

You can’t help looking at them, though. You’ve been sick all your life- born to a mother who left you on the doorsteps of an overcrowded orphanage, left alone often and long for your body to just… fail you. You don’t think you’ve seen outside the orphanage walls and then these hospital grounds since your birth. You would be dead now if it weren’t for the CEO of the hospital taking pity on you after you turned eighteen and the orphanage cleaned their hands off you.

And so, you can’t help but envy them just a little. Strong, agile people in the military, bodies fit and healthy. Despite knowing they are always putting themselves on the line, constantly in danger, you can’t help the longing you feel. Longing you don’t realize is clear as day in your eyes.

The one to approach you first is the man you thought one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He introduces himself as Kyle, and despite your silence- your interactions with others that are not doctors or nurses are far and few, and you are painfully shy- but he is nice. Gentle. Easily keeps the conversation going despite. He is so easy-going he has you grinning and laughing in no time. It catches the attention of a the Scot with a mohawk, who joins in by sharing even wilder stories. And then the man with the scary ghost mask, so often in their stories, comes to your little crowd. He is big, scary if the nurses’ reactions are anything to go by, and yet the only thing you’ve ever truly been afraid of is dying with a life not truly lived. So you don’t flinch or cower from him, merely ask if he has anything interesting to share with you.

The last you speak with is John Price. Captain John Price. If there is a man that can embody a bear, it has to be him. You are sure of it. Especially when you witness him smacking the back of Kyle’s head lightly after a teasing comment.

Maybe your chances of a long, fulfilling life are slim but today, just for today, you allow yourself to envision a life with them. Such a strange desire, a useless and wistful one.

“Thank you, for today.” You tell them quietly, when it’s nearing time to leave. Your hands are held in Kyle and Johnny’s, frail and weak compared to theirs. You smile at them, squeezing lightly. “I think this is the most happy and content I’ve been all my life. I won’t forget today.”

And in return? Neither will they. How could they ever forget you, the sweetheart in the hospital bed, your sickness keeping you away from the joyful life you deserve?

The won’t forget you. Not at all. And when you start receiving gifts, polaroids and letters and texts, you already know who is sending them to you.

It makes things just a little easier- your life just a little brighter.

Other works + help me choose a title for this!

[rowanthestrange]

Absolutely.

And if it’s the Master running the show then we are still more or less where we left Dhawan!Master with the Thirteenth Doctor - “I am trying to tell you a story about your (our) life, who you (we) are, what you’ve (we’ve) done, and you’re not listening.”

And what is what Sutekh did, but the Flux? The Time Lords having a dead man’s handle released on their extinction/The Kids Going Wild to kill this universe for the next.

Which we may have now fixed though, so that’s good.

Could we read all or most of the civilizations this season as time lord mirrors? The bridgerton aristocrats, the dot and bubble colonialists, and the boom warmongers seem pretty obvious. The space baby society that cranks out children (for eugenicist/nationalist reasons?) but is indifferent to their wellbeing. The "most dangerous prime minister" who's obsessed with genetic purity and wants to start nuking his neighbors. Which could all tie in with Mrs. Flood being a probable time lord, Rogue-Master theory, and the Doctor trying to run from his past. "Cultural appropriation." The Empire of Death

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Your lips | Pt. 1

(A/N) I don't think this will be along series, but there will be at least on more part! Also, I'm no doctor, or nurse, that's why I mostly skipped over the exam part!

Pairing: Simon x fem!pregnant!Reader

Warning: mutual pining, medical stuff (nothing graphic), mention of scars, pregancy

Synopsis: Almost done with your day (and your pregnancy), you get a last minute patient. The usual stoic and guarded Ghost is immediately charmed by you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

“There is a lot I can spare you from Simon, but the medical checkups are mandatory. There is nothing I can do about that.”

Price had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyebrows were pulled together in a slight frown as he regarded his Lieutenant. Simon on the other hand just looked annoyed. There were many reasons as to why he joined the military, but being fussed over by grown people was not one of them. He opened his mouth to, surely, whip out a smart remark, but Price held up his hand before he had the chance.

“You have until tomorrow six p.m. to go to the clinic yourself, or I’ll drag you by your scruff, you hear me?”

With a defeated sigh, he nodded, before he left Price’s office. Might as well get it over with, right?

One look at your computer told you that it was almost time to go home. Your to-do list for the day was all ticked off and your list of patients had no name remaining. With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself out of your chair and onto your feet, your hand instinctively cradling your swollen belly. Your lips pulled into a smile as you felt a kick right against your hand.

With slow, even steps you made your way to the door of your office and leaned outside until you caught the secretary’s eyes. She smiled at you. But not a bright, sunny smile, no, it was a sad, apologetic smile. Your own smile faded, but you nodded before waddling back to your desk. By the time you sat down, a new patient file was displayed on your screen.

His entire name was redacted, only his callsign was displayed. Ghost. You quickly read through his file, noting that he obviously hated all medical personnel, since he barely showed his face here. By the time you were almost done, a sharp knock rang out from your door.

“Enter!”

From the heavy steps, you could discern that it was the soldier who had been added to your day last minute. Still, you kept your eyes on the screen, trying to get all the information into your head.

“Take off your shirt and sit down on the bed. I’ll be with you in a second.”

Your tone might have sounded harsh, but you quickly learned to use an authoritative tone with soldiers. Otherwise, they might not listen. Your eyes were still fixed on the screen as rustling sounded through the room, followed by the creak of the bed. Now that he was done, you slowly rose to your feet again and squeezed some sanitizer into your hand, grabbing your clipboard before waddling over to the man.

“Just a regular checkup, right?”

Your eyes finally landed on the man’s back when he grunted in response. And good lord, he had one hell of a back. Covered in scars and a few tattoos, his shoulders were broad and strong. You felt yourself blush as some not-so-innocent thoughts entered your mind and it took you a second to switch back to work mode and to stop admiring him. You dealt with soldiers all day, every day, and yet none have had that effect on you. Until now.

To distract yourself, you quickly started with the exam. Looking for any injuries, listening to his lungs and heart. Within a few minutes, you were done with his back and slowly moved to his front. You were ready to just continue the exam when your baby landed an especially firm kick against your womb. You came to a quick stop, placing your hand against the place the baby had kicked.

“Woah, you okay there, love?”

Ghost jumped to his feet, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, but you just waved him off, by now being used to it.

“I’m fine…just…pregnant with a very active baby.”

An amused huff left his lips before Ghost sat back down. And even though he looked the same as before, you noticed how his eyes were more focused now, looking for any sign of trouble. He almost seemed…protective.

After a few moments, you recovered and let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and Ghost. But you hesitated for a moment. How would you reach his chest? As if reading your thoughts, Simon spread his legs, allowing you to step between them and reach his chest. A smile tugged on your lips.

“Thanks.”

He nodded in response, keeping still while you continued your exam, only moving when you asked him to. You instinctively reached to your right, ready to take his blood pressure, but your hand came back empty, you had forgotten to bring it with you from the table. A tired sigh escaped your lips and you took a few steps in the direction of the table when Ghost placed a hand on your arm and stopped you.

“I’ll get it.”

Before you could answer, he was on his feet and already at the table, picking up the device. Something that always seemed so large in your hands was easily dwarfed in his and you couldn’t help but admire his hands. Hands which he used to kill people. Hands which surely could do unholy things to your body. Hands which…

Your thoughts were interrupted by the clearing of a throat and you finally noticed that you had been staring at his hands.

“Oh, uh, sorry.”

With flaming cheeks, you grabbed the device and swiftly pulled the sleeve up Ghost’s arm. Pressing two buttons, you watched as the sleeve slowly began to fill with air. This part was always kind of awkward since all you could do was wait. You expected it to be the same way with him, but instead, he suddenly spoke up.

“How far along are you?”

You looked up, surprise clear on your face.

“Uh, thirty-three weeks.”

A small smile pulled at your lips as you gazed at your belly, your hands softly gliding over it.

“Hm…husband must be excited.”

You chuckled dryly and shook your head as the device finally displayed the value you had been waiting for.

“No husband. No father at all, to be honest. Left as soon as he found out I was pregnant.”

If you weren’t so focused on filling out the form on your clipboard, you would have noticed Ghost’s entire body tensing up and his eyes darkening. His gaze swept over you, following your curves, as his mouth watered. How could someone abandon someone who looked this delicious?

But before his thoughts could continue, you looked up from your clipboard and smiled at him.

“All that’s left is drawing some blood. But since it’s already late, I assume you’re not sober, so could you come in tomorrow morning before breakfast? That way we can get the most accurate values.”

Ghost found himself nodding, a smile hidden behind his medical mask at the thought of seeing you again tomorrow.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You grinned before waddling back to your desk and sinking down on your chair. As soon as you were out of sight, Ghost quickly pulled his shirt on and got to his feet. He turned to look at you and for a split second, caught you staring before you quickly averted your eyes.

With a grin under his mask, he started to walk to the door, before he got an idea.

“Are you done for the day?”

You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with confusion.

“Yes, why?”

Ghost nodded and walked back into the office.

“I could accompany you to your car if you’d like. Carry your bag, you know.”

Your eyes widened, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I’d like that, but I took the bus to get here. I don’t exactly fit behind the steering wheel anymore.”

“Oh, in that case, let me drive you home. You shouldn’t be on your feet that much.”

You shook your head, about to protest, but Ghost insisted and finally, you accepted. He watched you finish up your paperwork and pack up before he grabbed your bag and offered you his arm to hold onto.

With slow steps, he led you through the clinic to the doors and towards one of the base cars. One that could be used by all soldiers. On the way you gave him your address, not noticing the smile once he noted that you lived on base yourself.

After he helped you get settled and made sure you were buckled in, he got in and started the car, carefully taking off in the direction of your house. The car ride was spent in comfortable silence, and with you almost falling asleep in the passenger seat. But all too soon, the car pulled up in front of the army-issued house and Ghost quickly rounded to your side to help you get out.

He insisted on helping you get inside, only being satisfied once you sat on your couch with a glass of cold water in front of you.

“Thank you, Ghost. I really appreciated you bringing me home.”

He nodded, his mask hiding a sheepish smile and red cheeks.

“When do you start tomorrow?”

With a slight frown, you told him that you usually started at seven a.m. and he nodded, before saying goodbye and walking towards the door. But at the last second, he stopped and turned to look at you again.

“It’s Simon…my name.”

A grin spread on your lips as you nodded and slowly repeated the name, almost to yourself. But Simon heard it and he couldn’t deny that he loved how his name sounded coming from your lips.

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

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[bejeweledblondie]

König Headcannons

A/N: just like Ghost’s headcannon’s I’m taking inspiration from my experiences living on a military base

Warnings: NSFW

König x F! Reader

• König initially first met you while you were volunteering with the United Nations & Doctors Without Borders

• you were administering vaccines to children in the Middle East, & providing medical services to the underprivileged communities

• he was awe of your empathy & kindness towards these children, you treated them like they were your own & took your job super seriously

• KorTac was providing security for the community from potential terrorist attacks, as taking any western countries citizen for ransom seemed enticing

• After a surprise attack on the camp that was set up, he immediately brought you to safety & held you as you sobbed into chest out of fear for your life & all those innocent civilians that caught in the gunfire

• “shhh, schatz it’ll be okay” he whispered to you

• he finally asked you out after months of waiting for the right time

• you were giving him his flu shot when he asked you out

• your first date was in his off post apartment, he had cooked you homemade Austrian food

• his cooking is divine, he always chef’s it up in the kitchen

• you guys moved in only a few months into dating (which seems early but in the military world you’re slacking)

• he proposed with his Oma’s ring

• he also asked your parents over FaceTime for your hand in marriage, they were reluctant but he was very persuasive

• you’d probably wind up working at the hospital on post, & the soldiers that come in 100% know you’ll take care of them

• during Christmas leave both of your families meet in Vienna for Christmas time, I mean cmon Vienna is gorgeous at Christmas

• you two announce your pregnancy at Christmas dinner

• his Oma jumped up & ran over to hug you

• this man’s genes are freakin strong

• you definitely get pregnant with twins

• König is deployed when you find out & you tell him over FaceTime

• he cried pure tears of joy & his whole team celebrated

• due to the fact he’s like a giant he produces large babies

• you’d have to get a c-section for the birth because of it, & König makes it in the last second.

• he still had his hood on & was in his tactical gear scaring the entire nursing staff

• imagine their surprise when he just asks where his wife is

• you have a girl & a boy

• they’d definitely be named after his grandparents

• he sings lullaby’s in Austrian to them to introduce them to his home country’s culture

• he hates leaving for deployments now that they’re born & he definitely became more ruthless on the battlefield due to it

• he 100% would bring the babies to work whenever it was a mandatory fun day or a super relaxed day at work

• these hardened military men would be all over your babies & arguing as to who gets to hold them next

• they’re very well protected & König made sure of that

• he’s a family man at heart & he will do anything to protect them

✨NSFW ✨

• you weren’t very experienced when you met König & when you first saw his cock you were in absolute disbelief a man could be that hung

• you let your intrusive thoughts win & asked if he’d fit inside of you

•it took a lot of foreplay for him to fully fit snug in you

• he definitely would say the most absolutely filthy things in Austrian to you even if you understood them or not

• massive size & breeding kink

• he just loves how small your hands are compared to his cock you need both of them to jerk him off

• when he found out you were pregnant he was elated that his efforts worked out

• loved to see your body change & baby bump grow

• also loved how horny you were as a pregnancy symptom ( it killed him that you’d have to deal with that alone while he was deployed)

• like most military men he too has a collection of your nudes & plenty of videos of him fucking you

• he loves your hips & how wide they are to him it digs deep into the primal instinct of carrying his babies

• König is just as stealthy in bed as he is in on the battlefield

[the-secret-garden1]

Hello there, 👋

I am Tamer Aldeeb, a dentist from Gaza.

We have suffered greatly from fear, displacement, and the destruction of our home and my clinic, and everything we literally own...

We want to save ourselves from what seems like an inevitable death.

I hope you can take a look at my campaign on the pinned post on my profile ,and help us by donating or sharing our campaign to reach the largest number of supporters.🌹🌹

Our campaign is verified by @90-ghost , @ibtisams , @el-shab-hussein , @nabulsi and @fairuzfan 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

Thanks a lot in advance ❤️❤️❤️

Tamer Aldeeb's Family

Status: €18,796 raised of €40,000 goal | donate here

Click for more info ⬇️

To begin their story, it is important to introduce their family, who are the core of Tamer's existence and the source of his strength during these turbulent times:

They are a family of four suffering for over nine months from a brutal genocide that spares neither humans nor stones.

His mother is the heart of their home.

His mother embodies generosity and kindness as a devoted homemaker, always prioritising her family's well-being. Her unwavering love remains our sanctuary amidst the chaos.

Their father is the pillar of strength.

His father, Majed, is a dedicated professor. Faced the destruction of the university he served. Despite this, his commitment to education and society remains unshaken.

His brother is a beacon of healing.

His brother, Mohammad, is a compassionate doctor. Who confronts the challenges of healthcare amidst dwindling supplies and occupation brutality, showcasing remarkable dedication to healing.

As for Tamer, he is a dream deferred.

Tamer, was on the verge of a new beginning, with aspirations to further his career in Germany. He'd had saved thousands of dollars for the mandatory block account to support my stay abroad. However, the genocide has not only shattered his professional dreams but also consumed what didn't burn of his savings, compelling him to fight for his family's survival amidst the escalating costs of basic human necessities.

[Picture of Tamer's family before the war]

They have lost the lives of their dearest friends, neighbours, and much of what they loved. They have lost their home with all its dreams and memories. A five-floor house completely levelled to the ground.

[kalifornia1025]

The Resident Patient Pt. 2 (SPOILERS)

Alright sequel notes coming up now!

Fun sleepover, huh? Yeah if only

Poor John sounds so scared

Right, Mariana would be a believer in ghosts 

NOT THE SPINNING POTTERY SCENE REFERENCE, JOHN

Tippy toes? Wow

Ooh yes! Using the mic to bring up recorded evidence is a feature we don’t hear option but SHOULD

I’d be just like Mariana bringing up The Shining in this situation, except I’d do it more liking a joking skeptic

‘Roadkill’? Damn, that was kinda rude Mariana

Mariana: “Call the journalist!”, John: “I don’t want to!” - same John I hate phone calls

This little exchange was cute to me: 

Avery: “What? What’s this hmm? Are you a doctor?”

Sherlock: “No but he is” *referring to John*

John: *ahem* “Hello”

“The only crime that is rife around her involves tax evaders or high-end sex workers. You don’t strike me as either” - okay SHERLOCK?

Ah yes here’s where Sherlock refuses to help the guy because he’s lying 

What’s the deal with magnets in this case?

JOHN’S I LOVE LONDON SHIRT MENTIONED AGAIN!!

Oh wow Sherlock is HEATED about this dude, even saying “go ahead and die, see if I care”

Spooky sleepover!!

Ah yes a mandatory Blair Witch Project mention when recording in a spooky place

Another fun exchange for this episode:

Sherlock: “Good God!”

John: “What is it?!”

Sherlock: “This jacket is grotesque”

John: “God sake”

John…are you asking Sherlock to strip your corpse so your ghost wouldn’t be stuck wearing the pjs you died in??

“Would you like to be found naked? Or perhaps in the disgusting jacket?” - we’re getting silly & sassy Sherlock in this case, I love it!

“You have a sharp mind. You’re a brilliant man, your thoughts and opinions are never stupid” - awww Sherlock complimenting John is so sweet!!

“Well that’s just stupid” - welp that didn’t last long

“Fill a brother in” - NOT SHERLOCK SAYING WHAT JOHN SAID IN PT. 1

Why are they being so cute right now???

Oh shit, crime is happening! GO AWAY, Sherlock and John are bonding!

Listening with headphones sounds like Sherlock is whispering over my shoulder (creepy and uncomfortable)

Ouch, at least you tried to do it, John (maybe better luck with that in the future?)

The disgusting jacket ends up being useful!

“You ok, mate?” - I honestly love how John asks how his friends are doing during cases

Oh…looks like he went ahead and died just like you wanted Sherlock…

Oh wow, that ending for Pt. 2 is…dark. I knew it was gonna happen based on reading it from the ACD story, but it’s always interesting to hear how they present it in the podcast. 

But on a more positive note this case is so Johnlock-positive! Whether or not you ship it, you gotta admit that they’re so much friendlier towards each other here. Also Sherlock is just so much more silly and feral in this case and it’s so funny to me! We need more ‘silly goofy mood’ Sherlock. Alright, tune in next week for the Resident Patient finale…

[itsohh]

Ghost and Price Soulmate AU

A/N: G/N reader, posted as seperate fics on ao3 with each specific tag relating.

Warnings: Angst, self-mutaliation, reference domestic abuse

AO3 Masterlist

Ghost

He never believed in soul mates. Not in the matter that most people thought. Sure, they were real, sure there was someone out there destined to be ones other's match. Ghost just didn't believe it meant anything. Not really.

He of course had seen what it lead to.

His mother, destined to be with his father. They were soul mates and yet he treated her just as bad. His father loved his mother, sure, but he loved himself so much more.

So when that fated day came, that one when a bullet hit Ghost directly on his thigh, he couldn't help but be a little relieved.  The nurses had been so sympathetic, the doctors too. They hadn't been able to save the soul mark. Now replaced with a gunshot scar. A blessing in disguise. It was a weight off his shoulders.

Escaped. He had escaped destiny.

-

Legs rather comfortable on Soaps lap, you hand your arm over your eyes while you quietly rest. "How'd you get this one?" He poked the scar just under your knee. If anyone else had asked, you would have given them a piece of your mind. Asking about a scar wasn't a line that everyone could cross.

"Some dude tried to go for my kneecap and missed."

"Ouch."

"Didn't even hit me hard enough to shatter my kneecaps regardless of his shit aim."

The door clicked open and you heard the quietest of footsteps enter the room. "Sergeants." Ghost.

"Hey LT, what's the sit'?"

"Price's put us all on mandatory vacation leave." Your arm lift from your face at his voice as you stared at him.

"For real?" You asked, disbelief written across your face.

"Two weeks." You heard a huff from his voice as he sat down opposite to you. There was almost a relief in his eyes. He had been working hard. Too hard.

"Well gives the pair of you a perfect amount of time for a honeymoon huh-" Soap's tease was cut off by your kick but only made him laugh harder. Your relationship with Simon wasn't a secret, not to Soap anyway.

"Alright, alright I was joking. Shite."

"Perhaps you could use that two weeks to learn how to be funny." Your eyes narrowed at him.

"You wound me." He jabbed a finger next to a scar. "Speaking of wounds, How'd you get this one?" You looked over to the exposed skin just under your shirt.

You froze for a moment and your eyes didn't go to Soaps, but to Ghosts. The pair of you had never brought up the matter at hand. Soul marks, it never seemed important. So many people so dedicated to finding that person that the world designed for them, it just didn't seem to matter for you. You loved Ghost, you didn't want to know it was because of an outside force. You loved him and nothing would change that.

"That's my soul mark."

"Damn, that's rough. Not a pretty one." Soap looked down at the nasty scar.

"No, I mean it was. Alright, so when I was a kid I was totally in love with this girl at school called Lilith."

"Oh yeah?" He raised a brow while Ghost continued to watch.

"But she had a different soul mark than mine and wouldn't even look at someone who wasn't her soul mark. She was only gonna date her soulmate."

"What happened?"

"I figured I couldn't have the same one as her but maybe she would date me if I didn't have one. Like how would she ever know if I lost it."

"So you burnt it off?" Soap looked at you with slight horror.

"Cut actually. It uh, really fucking hurt but man she was really pretty." Soap straightened his back slightly and you swallowed.

"I presume it didn't work out."

"We started dating happily and were together up until right before I joined the military. Until her actual soulmate showed up."

"Ohhhh, rough." He gave you a look of sympathy.

"At the time? Was not happy. But I think everything worked out okay." Your eyes locked onto Ghosts for a moment.

"Cute. What about this one?" Soap asked and you looked at the scar on your hand.

"Think that was when I burnt myself making an omelette." Soap barked out a laugh and you could have sworn you saw Ghost's eyes squint from a smile.

"For fucks sake, Soap!" A grumble turned into a yell and the pair of you froze at Price's voice. In all honesty, Price didn't shout like that very often, especially at one of you. Normally it was more akin to a tired sigh.

"Whaddya do this time?" You removed your legs from his lap.

"Better go find out." He jumped up and cracked his neck. "If you don't hear from me in three hours then I want stripers at my funeral." He gave you a wink and headed out the door. The fact he locked the door after him wasn't something you missed.

Silence settled between the pair of you. Eventually, Ghost spoke up. "Can I see it?" Your eyes lift up and met his. You knew exactly what he meant.

"Sure. It's just a scar now, nothing special." Ghost stood up and towered his way over to you. He replaced Soap and your feet settled on his lap. Carefully, Simon removed the mask from his face and placed it on the coffee table next to you. You watched as he bit the top of his glove and slid it off his hand for it to join his mask.

His hand gently grazed the old scar. "Do you regret it?"

"No. Not really, to be honest after things didn't work out with Lilith I didn't think I would date again."

"Why did you?" His brown eyes settled on yours while he continued to stroke the scar.

"Well, we spent what like three months skirting around each other?"

"Four."

"Mmm, I mean you're an attractive man Simon. Enough to make someone change their mind."

"You couldn't see my face."

"What can I say, I'm a sucker for tats." You grinned and he raised a brown. His curled lips betrayed him and you let out a small laugh. "Honestly blame Soap, dunno if he did the same to you but god fucking dammit was he a persistent wingman. I enjoy your company and he didn't let me forget that."

"Hmm, seems he played matchmaker for the pair of us."

"Are you really surprised? It's Soap, he loves to meddle."

"Probably why Price is ripping him a new one," Simon muttered and his eyes sent back to the scar.

"Does it bother you?" Your voice was small, quiet and concern drew across your face. "That I don't have a mark anymore. That we will never know if we were made for each other." Simon paused and then suddenly got up from the chair only adding to your uncertainty. He placed his leg on the coffee table and started to pull up his trouser leg.

Confused you watched him until he pointed to a particular scar. "See that there?"

"You got shot?" You raised a brow.

"That there's where my mark god before it was shot. Lucky bullet. Can't be upset with you an't having one if I don't have one now."

Simon let the trouser leg fall and sat back down on the couch. This time he grabbed your legs and pulled you up onto his lap. It was a swift movement that had you automatically let out a small laugh. He had that adoring look on his face. The corners of his lips all crinkled up. Now with you in arm's reach, his bare hand caressed your face. "Couldn't give a flying fuck about that shite. I'm with you because I want to be, not because some destiny bullshit tells me to. But because I choose to love you."

Price

It had been a completely innocent moment that he saw it. That mark on your torso. A cropped singlet showed it off while you played netball with your squad. A particular game that Gaz had joined. Price wasn't even supposed to be there, he was only getting Gaz. Yet he froze when he saw that mark. The one that was identical to the on his wrist. Just under his watch.

Gaz forgotten about, Price had a call he had to make.

"Look, Kate, doesn't need to be somewhere safe or dangerous just anywhere but where I am."

"John I can't just have people reassigned for no good reason. Are you trying to sabotage their career? Is this a personal thing?"

"No, fuck, I'm not trying to fuck with their career. I'll be compromised around them, it's not a problem now but it might be in the future."

"Are you in a relationship with this person? Or were you?" Kate asked and John let out a sound of slight frustration through the phone.

"They're my soul mate Kate. They don't know it but I saw it." The line went silent. John eventually heard a sigh on the other end of the line.

"I'll do what I can."

-

After that phone call, John hadn't heard from you again. Despite the desire for companionship feeling deep down inside of him, he knew he did the right thing. It wasn't your fault and it wasn't his. Yet he had decided to override date, to override destiny.

Laswell never told him where she sent you. On any other day, he would have said that was for the better.

Any other day.

Gaz sprinted alongside him, guns firing about near them. "Fuck!" He could hear Gaz as the building nearby crumbled down into dust, a building they had just come from.

The pair of them were overrun and for a moment he looked at Gaz and regretted bringing him to his death. There were just too many from too many directions. With no proper cover, the pair of them were fish in a barrel. Bullets came from in front of them but not at them. By some miracle, a door opened while gunfire continued to cover them.

The door promptly shut behind them as both Gaz and Price fell to the ground in their hurried movement.

"Well, I'll be damned, long time no see Gaz." You held a hand out for him and Price watched as you pulled Gaz off the ground.

"Hey, Lieutenant! Didn't expect you to be here." Lieutenant? Price never knew you were promoted. Then again it's not like he wanted to hear about you, it was easier pretending you didn't exist.

"Yeah well, not the worst place to be at. I presume you guys are here due to the attack three days ago?"

"Affirmative on that." Price finally spoke up, he could pretend at least now that you weren't his soul mate.

"We have been here since then, then you two were running through dead man's land."

"Are you guys stuck here?" Gaz asked while you lead them over to a table with a map on top.

"Of course not. We have an underground pathway in our access. But they don't know that. They think that we are stuck here, they tried to push a could of times but Katey up in the best keeps taking them out."

"Are they hoping to starve you out then?" Gaz asked and you nodded.

"Yup in the meantime we have been setting up."

"Setting up what?" Price asked and you gave him a big grind.

"Fireworks show of course. The tunnels below here are far more extensive than everyone originally thought. It goes directly under their set up so we are going to hit the supports."

"Have it crumble from beneath them." Gaz breathed and you nodded.

"Only problem is that there's a high chance that our tunnels will collapse too, we are right on a cliff face so it's gonna be close." Your Sergent popped up next to you.

"This is Sergeant Lawyerson. Demolitions and structural expert."

"The idea is we will evacuate everyone first. " You explained.

"Speaking of, we should get to that. I onto have one set of charges left."

"Right we have to be quick then, when they realise that we don't have people at their posts they might push."

"I'll go get them in place now. Captain, Sergent do you mind looking after my men? There's a side path on the mountain we need to take, it goes from tunnel to straight cliff face. It's pretty risky but KitKat knows the way."

They both gave you a nod and started to work with the squad to leave. Yet Price's eyes lingered on you for a moment. You were a storm, not one to be trifled with. You spoke with certainty and confidence. The perfect leader for your squad. He could see the trust in their eyes.

"Lieutenant!"

"What is it, Katey?"

"Fuck, they got a tank out here!" Price watched as you froze for a moment then sprinted to the exposed gap then swore.

"Right, everyone evacuates now. KitKat eyes front."

"What about Attorney?"

"I'll get Lawyerson, the rest of you go." Price was swept up with the small crowd and followed KitKat down a tunnel. He only had a glimpse of you before you ran down a different path away from him.

"Captain, this way." KitKat had a kind smile on her face but he couldn't help but feel the pit in his stomach form. Was this a result of the bond? Or was this a gut feeling? He couldn't tell.

With Gaz in front of him, he was led through the path until he reached outside. It was an old climbing path, the bridges were old and wooden while the actual path was thin. It didn't allow for fast movement.

A few minutes later his head whipped around to see you following your Sargent. "Blow it." You commanded as the pair of you expertly hurried down the path. Far faster than everyone else had. He couldn't help but wonder how many times the pair of you had travelled it in the last few days.

"We're too close to the blast!" Price's eyes went to the entryway as more voices started to echo down.

"We can't let them reach here else everyone's dead. There's no cover here."

"We can handle some!" She protested.

"Some, not a goddamn army." You were right. She glanced at you over her shoulder then hit the detonator.

A rumble echoed it as the pair of you continued to sprint. Echos of your enemies' screams carried through the tunnel and out into the open. True to Lawyersons suspicions, the tunnels on your side had started to collapse too.

Unfortunately, not all your foes were caught. A brief area by the exit was reinforced rather well and they survived. Meanwhile, the path around you started to crumble. Gaz lit up his gun in an attempt to cover the pair of you.

Price snapped to action just in time for the wooden bridge to collapse under both you and Lawyerson. She managed to barely leap over to safety but your jump, slightly further back didn't make it.

But he caught you.

Price's hand found yours as he dove prone to the side. With one hand off the side, you dangled to his hand. "I got you." His eyes bore into yours as the pair of you tried to pull you up. Yet the wood that you used cracked under your weight and all progress was lost. Lawyerson recovered and went to help pull you up but a bullet in her leg had her cry out.

A curse left John's mouth as a gunshot hit his shoulder. They were getting lit up trying to save you. Your eyes turned to see the small group that had survived. They were aiming for the three of you.

"Let go, you need to leave." Your voice came and for the first time in a very long time. He froze.

"I'm not leaving you."

"You will die if you stay and I'll die regardless. Don't water your life like this. " He felt your hand go limp against him and he used all his strength to continue holding on.

"I can't."

"They always said you were such a level-headed man. Let go. Don't put the weight of your death on me. Lawyerson will need help with that leg of hers. Save her."

His eyes glanced at the small mark on his exposed wrist, your eyes followed him and you gave him a weak smile. John couldn't say it out loud, that he was your soul mate. A man you only knew from word of mouth.

"I already knew. Gaz showed me a picture of the pair of you, your wrist was showing." His lips parted.

"You didn't say anything."

"Love wasn't an option for me. Soulmates? That's a fantasy for civilians to have. Not us. But for what it's worth, if there was anyone worth being cosmically tied to, your a pretty damn amazing man to be it."

He shouted your name and with your free hand, you pried yourself from his grip. "Go!" So John watched as you fell, a love finished before it had even started.

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Hogtied: Part 2

A month later, your fingers itch to pull up his file. You resist, knowing, and believing that everyone is entitled to their privacy. It is why most workers can only access a heavily redacted copy of Ghost's medical record at your insistence. The full copy is buried in your private files in your office under a false name, same as most of the men you treat, including the Captain.

You've yet to see König since his re-check as you have spent a lot of time eating meals in your office recently as due to the mandatory full physicals recently. These days drag on as most do all they can to avoid coming in. Right now, you are waiting on your next appointment. Pulling the file, you see that it is supposed to be Ghost. Grumbling, you stand. There's no way he will show up voluntarily.

Walking into the gym, his most frequent hideout, you see him grappling with someone. "Ghost, you need to come with me." He freezes, and the other man slams him to the floor while he is distracted. You wince, but Ghost pops back up like nothing happened.

"Got me there, König. Rematch later?

"Ja, das klingt gud. I look forward to it." You nod to him as you follow Ghost out.

"I was winning before you distracted me, luv."

"Sure you were, tiger. Sure you were." You delight in hearing him mutter under his breath about annoying doctors. "I wouldn't have been a distraction if you would show up voluntarily for your check-ups." He is quiet the rest of the way and strips down to his pants without you needing to ask while you mark down his compliance with the mandate in his public file.

"Are you in pain today? Scale of 1 to just cut it the fuck off." He snorts, which has you grinning, though he can't see it as you lock the door.

"Two, bit of an ache on my side and arm from being slammed down." His tone implies that he thinks it is your fault. You refuse to rise to the bait, giving him a full check from neck to toe, including the hated turn your head and cough. At the very end, you ask him to remove his bally so you can finish up. "Why? I'm perfectly healthy."

"You're not, but this is to make sure you don't have a surprise pop up. I'm the only one who will see, promise." You go through this every time with Ghost. He trusts so reluctantly. "Let me see you, Simon." His real name always stuns him. You use it so rarely. He nods and slips it off, closing his eyes. Averting your own, you give him a moment to come to terms with the lack of fabric before quickly checking him over. At your quiet, "done," he hurriedly puts his mask back on. It shouldn't make you sad, but knowing that he feels more vulnerable, showing his face than having you cup his royal jewels always hits you hard. "I'd like to say see you next year, but we both know you won't stay uninjured that long."

He smirks. "I'd miss your hands on me too much, princess." You shake your head and slip out the door to give him privacy. When you look up, you see König sitting in the waiting area.

"Are you waiting for Ghost?"

"Nee, you. I have appointment."

"Oh! I'm so sorry. I hadn't looked ahead. Let's go on back." He follows you amicably, sitting on the exam table. "Before we start," you say locking the door. "Do you want me to redact facts on your public file? I do for many of the team members. The original is kept under lock and key with a pseudonym in my office, but that way, no one else has access to your medical history or anything else you want kept off of it."

"I did not know that was option. Yes. There are questions I have refused to answer."

You nod. "It is a common issue, so I buck the rules a bit for you men. If you could mark this up for me then. It is a copy, so don't hesitate to cross things out. Bring it back to me and I will make the changes. Please strip down to your pants. The mask is up to you for now." You turn away and hear him shuffling a bit before he sits again. Turning, you begin your assessment. He leaves his mask on, but is fidgeting heavily as you take in his broad form. "Perfect," you say trying to keep your admiration for his physique from coloring your tone. You take a steadying breath, then jump right in as though he was no different from any others you have examined. The warmth of your cheeks is a sure sign that you do feel differently, despite your best efforts. You manage to get through everything and when you gesture, he slips off his mask without an argument. You tried to force your eyes away from him when you first saw his face as your supposed enemy, but now looking at him as a friend, you let your eyes linger a bit, tracing over his scars and the chunk cut from his ear. You take notes of the various features to add to his file. "Was it a bite or a knife that did that one?"

"Knife, about three years ago. One of yo - our team, actually." You tut quietly and move on.

"It is optional, but we also offer an std panel. Since you haven't had one before with us, I do recommend it just to have a baseline, but I recognize that it is a private matter that you may wish to take off base. It is a blood draw that you can schedule through the online portal. Seems most don't want to have to ask a pretty girl at the reception desk about it." His smile is lopsided as he slips the mask back on.

"Ja, I could see a problem with asking the pretty doctor for a test." You laugh and wave him off.

"We are done here. Make sure to bring those papers back so I can get that handled. For now, I will move your file, so if you get hurt, make sure they know to call me so I can pull it. Have a good night, König. It was good to see you again."

You leave, settling back in your office with his file in hand. Head in your hands, you try to ignore the way your body reacted to being in his proximity. Your panties are soaked, and nothing untoward even happened. After a long think, you lock up the file, readying to leave for the day. You pass Soap in the hall, ignoring his declarations of undying love. He switches tactics suddenly, "ye goin t'be at the pub tonight, lassy?"

You stop and consider it. "Yea, send me the address and I'll stop in. Haven't been out in forever."

He whoops. "Sounds like a randan, hen."

"Nae, ye cannae." You glare at his back as he hurries off, ignoring your protest. Throwing your hands up, you relax in your quarters for a few hours before getting ready to go. You hem and haw more than normal, finally deciding on a knee-length skirt and a cute blouse with a bit of makeup. Looking critically in the mirror, you add a set of leggings, too self-conscious with the scarring on your thighs to risk anyone seeing them on accident.

Entering the pub, you see about a dozen members of the team have shown up and sequestered themselves to one area. All of them are men unsurprisingly. Most of the few women at work refuse to have anything to do with the adrenaline junkies that you treat, not wanting to deal with rough men. Having been around them at work and at leisure, you know that most have a few rough edges, but they always make an effort to include you even if they are incorrigible flirts.

It takes only a few seconds for one of them to spot you, "Oi! It's the doc! In a bloody skirt!" You laugh with the men, walking over and getting passed a pint from the table. Taking a sip, you nearly gag.

"Oof! Who bought this swill? You fucks on a diet or somethin?!" You set it down in disgust and ask for a pint of your favorite at the bar, a nice frothy glass of Guinness. Bringing it back, both Soap and Ghost gasp as if wounded.

"Ye cannae be serious, not Guinness!"

"Am scunnered ye think tha piss taint pure minging."

"English, ya fucks. Use English."

"What, like right proper Bri'ish, chappie? That piss is a load of tosh. Downright naff, it is." Soap burstd into a fit of giggles at your horrible impression of Ghost. Gaz wraps an arm around your shoulders.

"Never, ever pretend to be English again. My God your accent is horrid."

"Wäre Deutsch besser? 아니면 한국어? (Animyeon hangug-eo?) Quizás el español sea mejor. I can do this all night."

"Rather have you speaking tongues on my cock, later," says a newer recruit. He is promptly elbowed by the guy next to him and a quiet argument breaks out. You opt to ignore the idiot and turn to Gaz.

"How have you been, mate? I haven't seen much of most of you and too much of the rest lately." He chuckles knowing exactly what time of year it is and drops his arm to your back.

"Busy, Captains got me running a lot of things right now trying to keep ahead of the König mess."

"I shouldn't ask, should I? They mad we nabbed him and gave him Stockholm Syndrome?"

"That's putting it lightly. They've tried legal and illegal ways of forcing him back. It's been a right mess. I think it will clear up soon though. Poor guy's been through the ringer, but you wouldn't know it. He's been a good asset, thanks to you." You freeze, drink halfway to your lips. Putting it back on the table a little too hard, you turn to face Gaz.

"What do you mean thanks to you?" He scratches his head nervously.

"I just mean, you treated him up nice and it put him in a better mindset. Cooperated with everything and all. After the second meeting, he agreed to join us when nothing would sway him before."

"Oh. Umm... ok. Should I put that on my resume? 'Bedside manner good enough to make men turn traitor'. That sounds like an in-demand skill." He looks shocked and hurt.

"You're leaving us? Why? Is it because of the FNG over there? I'll smoke him right now if it is." His exclamations have drawn the attention of others who also demand answers.

"No, it was just a joke, mate. I ain't leaving. It'd make my parents way too happy, after all. And I'd miss my little arsonists and murderers." You wink at Soap and Ghost who stand a little taller, proud of their work.

"Now, I thought you were gonna get mad wae it, Bubbles." Soap groans at the new moniker.

"It's Soap, nae Bubbles, hen. Noo, haud yer wheesht." You laugh at his descent back into his mother language, not missing the way Ghost's eyes lit up at the nickname. Much of the rest of the night is spent trading stories until last order is called then piling into shared taxis back to base. You end up scrunched between Ghost and Soap, as per usual. They are always perfect gentlemen and don't want to risk that someone else isn't when you can't get away.

Waving them off near their quarters, you stop to enjoy the view of the city. A boot scuffing nearby startles you. Spinning around to face it, you lose your balance. Arms wrap tight around your waist, catching you and pulling you against a large torso to steady you upright.

"Oops!" You giggle, the drinks making you feel loosey goosey.

"You must be careful, Schatz. It can be dangerous." You cheeks flush pink at the nickname. It shouldn't effect you this much to be called treasure by anyone, but it does.

"Ja, alles klar. Ich bin vorsichtig. (Yes, I'm ok. I am careful) You say as you pull away carefully, not thinking much of it. "Gute Nacht, mein König." Patting his chest, you turn to walk to your quarters, not realizing that you have stunned him into silence by speaking his mother tongue so easily and calling him yours.

You're glad to have the next day off to nurse your hangover. When you make it to mess at lunch, the men tease you about your preference for dark beers. You ignore them, trying to focus on the dry toast you convinced the cook to hand over and your glass of water. "Worth it," you say at last. "Dark beer is always better going down and light beers taste like you had someone drink a dark beer then piss in a cup for you to drink."

The laughter your statement causes makes you wince in pain, which in turn has them trying to hold it in. "Surprised you aren't tucked into a hoodie, luv. Couldn't find one this morning?" You glare at Ghost.

"You took it back last time. I'm out of comfortable hoodies."

"Och, ye poor lassie. The big bad men took their clothes back." You flip Soap the bird, then jump when a hand comes into view.

"Here, Sonnenschein." You look up at König who has apparently been sitting next to you this entire time, holding a hoodie out for you.

"Oh, thank you. It's even softer than Ghost's." You slip it on, happily. The sleeves hang off your hands by several inches and when you stand, it hangs down to your knees. The warmth from his body hasn't left it, making it feel a bit like a heated blanket. "It's lovely. You're never getting this back, now." König chuckles, adjusting himself to better see you.

"Looks good on you." He turns back to his food and you make the mistake of glancing up at Ghost and Soap. They are staring at you, mouths slack in shock.

"Gonna eat a fly if ya don't shut yer gobs." You turn back to your toast with a small smile. Hearing their teeth snap together turns it into a full-blown grin.

You veg out in your room the rest of the day, lounging in the hoodie until dinner. Feeling better, you leave it in your room. Sitting next to König, he looks you up and down.

"Mein Schatz, you have forgotten to wear my clothes."

"Just saving it for later, Großer. I don't want to wear it to bits too soon." From across the table, Ghost huffs.

"That's true, too. My hoodie was fuckin threadbare when I got it back. You're rough on clothes, Lamb." You grumble at him, not denying anything. König chuckles at your attitude and Ghost smirks beneath his mask. You eat quietly the rest of the meal, listening to them discuss an upcoming mission. You make a mental note to check supplies as it sounds like more than a quick in and out thing.

[chaosfairy18]

Newsiestober Day 6 : Haunted

Truth to be told, Denton had never expected to become a Parapsychologist or Paranormal Investigator, at no step in his life. For his parents he’d set out to become a doctor – though already then, he was dabbling in some journalism courses – and then one night during the mandatory practical training in the forensics department, more accurately in the morgue, he’d seen something that he just couldn’t come back from.

Since forever, he thought, he’d seen things from the corner of his eye, but he’d assumed that was something everyone went through, and it had never been clear, never been a figure sitting right by their own corpse, panicking, appearing and disappearing from thin air.

He’d discontinued his medical studies, done his bachelor’s degree in journalism and that was supposed to be it. Nothing had happened, he hadn’t seen anything and was just sleep deprived from studying until late at night, not becoming a doctor was solely because of his own passions.

And then it happened again, as he was out reporting on wars, just this time the bodies weren’t in morgues, they were everywhere, and while not all had ghosts it was far more than he could ignore. No one else seemed to see anything, at most feel a cold shudder while close to them, maybe a family member shivering and crying as the ghost of their loved one tried to touch them.

His colleagues probably assumed he wasn’t cut out for being a war reporter, after he’d quit, but in truth Denton had gone back to university – not a renowned one, admittedly, and researched everything on ghosts that he could, in various countries.

Another thing he hadn’t really expected of his life was adopting a teenager after an old friend of his had contacted him, saying the boy in her class was in writing and ghosts and if he could just try to mentor the orphaned boy a bit. No one expected him to adopt Sean not even half a year later.

It wasn’t just that he felt sorry for a young boy without parents, he also felt like he could offer him a lot of options and well… he’d always thought about kids. With or without a partner.

And mostly they had hit it off well, especially the mentoring at first. Living together proved to be more difficult, with Sean assuming he might have only taken him in for the money or some other personal gain and shutting himself off or getting angry, but by now they were on only regular teenage angst while Sean went to school, did Taekwondo and wrote in his spare time.

Admittedly… the one part on why he had taken Sean in was that he also seemed to sense ghosts more than other people, just like Denton did. And he was a researcher after all.

Now, finding a place that was truly haunted, wasn’t easy. He’d found his fair share of singular ghosts by now, some willing to talk, some not able to or not even noticing him at all, but he had yet to find a real haunted place inhabiting multiple stronger ghosts. Denton’s current house he was looking into was old, having been vacant before the civil war, then renovated, then empty again, and so on and so on up until today. There were some stories of chills, moving furniture, old pathways and more, but he wanted to take a look himself.

Surprisingly, Sean wanted to go too, listening to music during the car ride and then leaving his headphones hanging on his neck, hands in his pockets as they went in, Denton not yet having much equipment on him, only taking in the obvious things.

Old. Dusty. Cold.

The condition was mostly good, the house had been renovated after all, but there was something in the air, something uneasy for others but promising for him.

“Let’s look around.”, he said quietly, smiling at Sean who nodded absentmindedly but followed.

The kitchen was empty, both of ghosts and of food as well as most cooking equipment, so they moved further along to the dining hall and lastly some living room. It was where Denton stopped because he saw something from the corner of his eye, through the next door, turning to it, holding a hand to Sean’s shoulder to keep him close and stop him from moving in front of him.

An old figure, at least 70, wearing parts of a civil war uniform, see-through but completely there, came into the room, followed by a young blond man, probably not long an adult, both ignoring them as they went to the kitchen.

“Denton, did you-?”

“Yes, I saw.” In comparison to most ghosts he’d seen, those were some of the clearest and least instable he’d seen since his days as a war reporter. They were anchored here, and they might not even be the only ones.

Turning to the room where the ghosts had come from, he saw a mostly intangible figure dressed like a newsboy sitting on the windowsill, blankly staring outside, as well as some early-twenty-year-old looking like an Italian mobster sitting on the railing of the staircase. Smoke coming out of a cigar that could never be lit while a boy in Victorian clothing disdainfully scrunched up his nose, hiding more behind a book in his hands.

One thing at least was for sure: the house was haunted by ghosts, multiple of them, from various different times, and one way or another, Denton and Sean would spend a lot of time here.

@newsiestober2024

[ultfreakme]

Hello there, 👋

I am Tamer Aldeeb, a dentist from Gaza.

We have suffered greatly from fear, displacement, and the destruction of our home and my clinic, and everything we literally own...

We want to save ourselves from what seems like an inevitable death.

I hope you can take a look at my campaign on the pinned post on my profile ,and help us by donating or sharing our campaign to reach the largest number of supporters.🌹🌹

Our campaign is verified by @90-ghost , @ibtisams , @el-shab-hussein , @nabulsi and @fairuzfan 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

Thanks a lot in advance ❤️❤️❤️

Please donate, this has been verified-

Only €14,525 has been raised towards goal of €40,000 and there's 4 members of this family!

I have hesitated and delayed for a long time to write these words and create an account on GoFundMe, but the need has become very urgent due to what I see of death approaching myself and my family. To begin our story, it is important to introduce my family, who are the core of my existence and the source of my strength during these turbulent times: We are a family of four suffering for over nine months from a brutal war that spares neither humans nor stones. Mother: The Heart of Our Home My mother embodies generosity and kindness as a devoted homemaker, always prioritizing her family's well-being. Her unwavering love remains our sanctuary amidst the chaos. Father: The Pillar of Strength My father, Majed, a dedicated professor, faced the destruction of the university he served. Despite this, his commitment to education and society remains unshaken. Brother: A Beacon of Healing My brother, Mohammad, a compassionate doctor, confronts the challenges of healthcare amidst dwindling supplies and occupation brutality, showcasing remarkable dedication to healing. Tamer: A Dream Deferred As for myself, Tamer, I was on the verge of a new beginning, with aspirations to further my career in Germany. I had saved thousands of dollars for the mandatory block account to support my stay abroad. However, the conflict has not only shattered my professional dreams but also consumed what didn't burn of my savings, compelling me to fight for my family's survival amidst the escalating costs of basic human necessities

[justactgaussian]

I worked at an amusement park for 6 years, mostly as a ride operater. It was quite a few years ago, but I feel like reminiscing, so here are a few of my favourite things customers said. Most of them happened to me, but a few are 'greatest hits' from stories shared in the break room.

Breaking news: Water is wet

"I got wet! My clothes are soaked!"

Yes, that is sort of the point, it's why this ride is full of water.

"Well there should be some kind of warning!"

Somehow, pointing out the huge sign saying YOU MAY GET SPLASHED didn't help. 

This one happened regularly.

If you get scammed by a ghost, that's on you

"I already paid!"

I'm not that stupid. You're waiting in line, I know you didn't pay yet.

"No no, I paid your colleague, just like I did earlier today"

What, the one whose shift ended 2 hours ago, when the rush died down? 

"She's still there, I swear"

Sure. Look, you're clearly too drunk for this anyway, go back to my colleague and ask for a refund.

7 ways to (not) make your child taller

No shift went by without at least one argument over children not being tall enough. I'm still surprised so many people hate basic safety regulations.

"If the height requirement is 120cm then clearly 119cm should be fine too"

Try following that logic a little further and see if you can spot the problem. 

"We've been standing in line for an hour!"

And that wasn't enough time for them to get taller. Maybe read the sign first next time. 

"His brother is tall enough, they can go in together"

A nine-year-old can not save a six-year-old from falling out of a rollercoaster.

"It's fine, I'm sure *this* will take care of it"

Bribes don't make your children taller. 

"Do you know who I am?"

Being a celebrity doesn't make your children taller.

"Just stand on tiptoes when they measure you, sweety"

First, that is the oldest trick in the book. We know, we check. Second, you're right in front of me, I can hear you.

"But they said she was tall enough just yesterday"

If she shrunk that much in a day, you should probably call a doctor.

Not how rain works

"The seats are wet"

I know, it's raining.

"Can't you dry them?"

I could, but won't. Because it's raining.

Safety precautions make me feel unsafe

"Closing down the ride for 20 minutes and then opening it up again makes people really worried. It's unacceptable!"

Okay, if we can't call a technician just to check if something out of the ordinary is a problem or not, what do you want us to do instead? Would you really feel safer if we just ignored things like that? Do you want us to close down a perfectly safe ride for the rest of the day to make you feel better? Are you paying for that?

I get that being reminded of accidents isn't fun, especially when you're in an amusement park, and I'm not telling you how to feel about it. But it won't change the saftey protocols. If it helps, you don't have to try this one, it's not mandatory.

Do I look like I own this thing?

"I can't believe you only take cash! Don't you know how much more money you could make if you accepted card?"

"This is too expensive, don't you see how much more you would earn if you lowered the price a bit?"

Actually I do. I'm paid by the hour, that means it would increase my earnings by exactly 0.

'I wasn't looking' is a terrible excuse

"How dare you yank my child's arm!"

Your dumbass child was running as fast as they could, severely overestimating the speed of the cart pulling onto the platform. It was either grab them, or stand back and watch them faceplant onto the tracks and get run over. I don't know about you, but my first priority is that no one dies here.

"I didn't see them do that!"

I sure hope not, it would be really fucked up to just wait for me to handle it if you did.

The math is too hard

I'm sorry, you and your sister can't go alone, she needs someone who's least 15 years old with her.

"I'm 15!"

Mhm, and what year were you born in?

"I uhm... in..."

Wow, I can't believe that worked in the year of our lord 2015

Music to match the mood

A couple were too busy making out to sit down, so I couldn't close the safety bar. After awkwardly waiting for a minute or two, I realised the only right move was changing the music to Careless Whisper. They got so mad. Luckily their three friends were very quick to defend me: "It's fucking hilarious, and you asked for it!"

[curdled-blood]

TELL ME UR CREEPYPASTA HEADCANNOND ID LOVE TO KNOW!!!

WJDHAHJA THANK YOU

this one is a bit open ended so I'll give you some of my main ones ;3c

⦻ Slenderman - It is my personal head canon that the species that Slenderman is (which I just call the ✨Faceless Beings✨) where once human that actually died a came back!! I also think he's roughly 17ft tall but he can definitely change his form and shift.

⦻ Sally Williams - Honestly I imagine Sally's death happened somewhere in the 1950s.im not sure exactly when but roughly in that era. I think Sally has been a ghost for a very long long time and I'm pretty sure she met Slenderman not too long after her death. I can definitely see him helping Sally cope with the fact that she's dead, especially since he too is dead himself yk???

⦻ Nurse Ann - Since Anns the nurse, I'm pretty sure she knows just about everybody in the mansion. It's honestly pretty rare for her to come across someone she doesn't know especially since every now and then it's mandatory for (most of) the pastas to go and see her. I think her most frequent guest is Toby since he tends to get pretty reckless. Jeff gets reckless too but let's be honest, he refuses help most of the time.

⦻ Eyeless Jack - Kinda on the topic of Ann, Ej occasionally stands in as a doctor usually when Ann is gone or when she needs help with a patient i.e. when someone fucks up SUUUPAAH bad. I also think he doesn't eat only kidneys but I think that's def his fav. It'd be funny if he accidently ran into a kidney stone once and choked on one oml 💀

That's all I can think of rn sooo YAAH COME BACK AGAIN

Thank you so much for asking GRAAAAH!!!!!! 💕💞

[ladyodaskonpeito]

Day 1: College

Fandom: Free!

Pairing: Yamazaki Sousuke x Tachibana Makoto

Wordcount: 677

My submission for Day 1 of Soumako Week 2023. The story would consist of seven parts that are posted throughout the week (^///^)

Makoto dragged his feet across the pavement when the first drop of rain hit the ground one September morning. Under dark clouds and a gloomy sky, he’d reached Yowa Hospital forty minutes before he was expected to report to the nurse preceptor.

This was only the second day, he sighed.

Ms Amakata was the kindest preceptor he’d met, so she wasn’t the reason Makoto was having a hard time completing his mandatory clinical practice as a nursing student. The biggest problem he had with fulfilling his required hours was the fact that he was stationed at the rehabilitation centre. While the specialty was one he had excelled in, the place was, to his utmost horror, situated next to a morgue. The two were connected by a corridor, with the morgue located at the far end of the building and leading to a dimly lit staircase. Makoto had no curiosity whatsoever to know where that flight of stairs led to.

Even if he didn’t have to pass by the front of the morgue, the staircase was always in full view when he was heading in the direction of the rehab centre. Eternal silence and eerieness clouded the staircase, prompting Makoto to fear the worst whenever he walked along that corridor.

So far, he had been lucky; no ghosts had been sighted yet. But what if- what if today was the day?

He hurried across the concrete floor to get the worst part of his days over with. Today was not a good day to be this early, as signified by the dead stillness in the building; there was no one around yet. By contrast, the wind whooshed outside, rattling the windows against their panes like something or someone was banging against them in synchrony and knocking on them with aggression. Makoto shuddered from the noises and looked ahead on instinct, finding the end of the corridor covered in pitch-black darkness. Did the barely functioning lights finally go out? It was bad timing for it to malfunction in time with the upcoming storm, so his stomach went queasy with worry.

Lightning struck across the grey morning sky just then, and Makoto’s heart almost jumped out of his chest when he made out a silhouette standing right in the centre of the staircase.

It stood still, arms by both of its sides. That was all he could see before the flash of light went by, and more than enough for goosebumps to instantaneously creep up his neck.

Had the day he was afraid of finally come?

Calm down, you’re just spooked by the weather, silly!

The next thing he knew, footsteps fast approaching from the far end of the building were amplifying and bouncing along the concrete walls.

This is it, death has come!

He then let out a high-pitched scream when a tall shadow emerged from that direction. He would run for his life but his feet froze, planted firmly to the ground as if he’d grown roots. With no options to defend himself from demise other than shutting his eyes tightly, Makoto braced himself for whatever was coming.

“Are you okay?” He heard a deep voice instead. A gruff and masculine one riddled with worry.

…

Could this be a ploy to lull him into a false sense of safety so he’d let his guard down and open his eyes?

If that was the case, what a powerful ghost this was… for knowing just what he liked.

“Excuse me, are you hurt anywhere?” The voice continued. “Rest assured, I’m here to help. I’m a doctor.”

…

It even knew he was into doctors… How?

In the end, the carrot dangling was too big a temptation. So, he peeked.

That was when he saw the hottest ghost in existence: muscular build and dark brown hair, teal eyes looking down at him with intense concern. “Well, technically I’m not a doctor yet… but I’m trained to provide first aid!” Said mesmerising eyes lit up.

Maybe this isn’t a bad way to go, Makoto thought. At least I’d have no regrets.

To be continued on Day 2

[annerly-san]

Till Death do we Part, my Ass! - Chapter 4 - "the reigning champion of claw machines remains undefeated even in death"

Summary:

Caleb pulls big brother ghost shenanigans to fend off any men within a 5 km radius of his little pipsqueak

A love and deepspace fanfic for Caleb

Alternative AO3 link:

Caleb was slowly coming to terms with his new ghost form.

The initial shock of realizing he was no longer among the living had been, well, a lot. But over time, the confusion began to wear off and was slowly replaced by a sort of strange acceptance. He couldn’t feel the cold or the heat, couldn’t touch or be touched, and he couldn’t interact with the physical world the way he used to—but he could still see her, still follow her, still watch over her.

Maybe that’s what he was supposed to do now, he thought, as he floated along behind her. He wasn’t just some wandering spirit with unfinished business, he had a purpose.

“I’m not haunting her,” Caleb reasoned as he trailed behind her.  “I’m just… following her in spirit to make sure she’s okay!”

The idea began to solidify in his mind, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. 

“I’m just following you around… and protecting you from… uhhh… life?  So really I’m like…” Caleb let out a gasp in realization.  “A GUARDIAN SPIRIT!  YES!”

He was on a roll now. The more he said it, the more right it felt. Caleb watched as Pipsqueak wove through the crowd, and he followed quickly behind her, phasing through any passersby and objects on the road with a newfound ease. He was getting the hang of this whole ghost thing.

Pipsqueak turned the corner and Caleb followed closely behind her, his form phasing through passersby with ease. He was really getting the hang of this ghost thing.

“You should be grateful, Pipsqueak,” he mused aloud, even though she couldn’t hear him. “You’ve got 24/7 personal protection, courtesy of yours truly!”

There was a strange comfort in that thought. If he could protect her, keep her safe in ways he never could before, then maybe this whole being dead thing wasn’t so bad after all. And once he was sure she’d be okay, he could move on, wherever ghosts were supposed to go, with no regrets.

But it seemed like Caleb might be stuck in his spirit-guardian role for a good while.

Was there really this many guys hanging around his Pipsqueak?

Zayne, he could handle. They’d been childhood friends, after all. With everything Pipsqueak had been through, it was reassuring to have Zayne nearby... sort of . Caleb still thought there should be a mandatory one-meter distance between them at all times, especially since Zayne seemed to be walking that thin line between “friend” and “flirt.”

Zayne conveniently being at the café Pipsqueak frequented after work? Whatever. Caleb rolled his eyes every time he had to hear Zayne’s “I didn’t expect to see you here,” like the guy hadn’t camped out at the café for hours, waiting.

But watching the almighty world-famous cardiac surgeon get dragged off to win a mass-manufactured plushie from a rigged claw machine was pure satisfaction . Caleb grinned as Zayne failed yet again to get the plushie. Pipsqueak’s barely-concealed disappointment was written all over her face.

Caleb cackled in delight.  Some things never changed, Caleb mused. Pipsqueak was just as bad at hiding her emotions as she’d been when they were kids—not that she ever got better at it.  And Zayne, despite only being with them for short, took notice too.

“These minor miscalculations are only to be expected,” Zayne glanced wearily over at pipsqueak.  “I suppose it’s time for me to do my best.”

“I’ll cheer you on!  You got this, Doctor Zayne!”

Caleb groaned. “Pipsqueak, you don’t need to cheer him on! PIPSQUEAK-!”

Considering that he had been blown up in an explosion, so there was no true grave for him to roll over in, Caleb took to rolling over the arcade floor in hysteria instead.

Pipsqueak decided to start patting Zayne on the shoulder, back, and arm all while calling out his name alongside sweet encouragement.  Caleb wasn’t sure if his face was burning from the embarrassment or unbridled rage.

“WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING HIM, PIPSQUEAK!” Caleb swatted her hands to no avail.  “STOP CHEERING FOR HIM!  STOP-“

Caleb turned to Zayne in desperation, hoping the doctor would at least deny some of these very obvious advances in public.  But of course, doctors and degenerates both start with the letter ‘D’ and Caleb watched in abject horror as Zayne, despite being the stoic and emotionally dense asshat he was, showcased a look of enjoyment on his face.

“ZAYNE, YOU BITCH ASS MOTHERFUCKER-!” Caleb screamed again, as he decided to redirect his wrath towards the doctor instead.

The corner of Zayne’s lips turned upwards, and Caleb knew something was wrong. He glanced at the claw machine and saw that, for the first time in four attempts, Zayne had actually managed to grab hold of a plushie.

Oh, this was bad.

With Pipsqueak cheering him on and Zayne clearly enjoying it, Caleb knew it would be game over if that plushie made it to the drop. Acting on pure instinct—and the desire to stop Zayne from scoring any more brownie points with his Pipsqueak—Caleb reached through the glass of the claw machine and swatted the plushie with the strength of a true DAA fighter pilot. Maybe the years of hard training had finally paid off. Maybe the gods pitied him for killing him off so early. Or maybe Zayne just sucked at claw machines.

Either way, the plushie fell from the claw, landing just short of the drop.

”YEEEEESSSS!  YESYESYES!!!!”  Caleb cheered.  Caleb cried.  “SUCK IT, ZAYNE!”

Any regret Caleb might have felt when he saw Pipsqueak’s disappointed face was immediately replaced by the sheer joy of seeing Zayne’s.

“AHAHAHA! I thought surgeons were supposed to have surgical precision !” Caleb jumped around in celebratory glee. “Guess I gotta call the board to revoke your license now, Doctor Zayne!”

“We all have our strengths, and playing the claw machine isn’t mine,” Zayne muttered dejectedly as he stared forlorn at the still fully-stocked claw machine. 

Considering that Zayne couldn’t hear or see Caleb, it could only mean that Pipsqueak had the same thought, which Zayne was somehow able to pick up on. “I gotta thank that poker face of yours, Pipsqueak.” A surge of pride swelled in Caleb’s chest as he threw an arm around Pipsqueak’s shoulders and gave her a pat of approval for her perpetual inability to hide her emotions. “It’s truly something else.”

Zayne glanced around before locking eyes with Pipsqueak.

“Close your eyes and pretend you didn’t see anything,” he mumbled quietly.

His hands were back on the controls of the claw machine, but this time, a strange frost seemed to swirl around the claw, as if the air itself had turned freezing cold. Zayne maneuvered the claw to the nearest plushie and hit the button.

The moment the claw touched the plushie, a layer of ice formed around both, encasing them in an icy block as the claw moved toward the dropper.

Caleb’s jaw dropped in disbelief in the face of Zayne’s audacity.

“...Hey…” Caleb moved closer, positioning himself to stare right into the side of Zayne’s face. His nose was practically poking into Zayne’s cheek as he glared. “...Did you just cheat at the claw machine, bro?”

His accusations were drowned out by Pipsqueak’s loud cheers as Zayne casually grabbed the plushie and handed it over to her.

“It’s a little cold, but we got it out,” Zayne said with a small smile.

“That’s okay! I like it better this way!” Pipsqueak responded with glee, pressing the frozen plushie to her cheek.

Caleb wanted to strangle him. “What’s gonna happen when news of Linkon’s top cardiac surgeon cheating at claw machines gets out, huh?” Caleb pointed accusingly. “If you’re cheating at this, you clearly have no morals, you insidious doctor!” He thought about all the times Zayne had charged him for those mandatory DAA checkups. “GIVE ME BACK MY MONEY, YOU SCAMMER!”

“I think that’s enough for today,” Caleb heard Zayne tell pipsqueak.  The latter was clearly not happy to hear that the doctor was leaving already.  She clearly wanted more plushies to take home.

Caleb watched as pipsqueak waved goodbye to their childhood friend, glaring at the plushie in her arms offendedly.  “How does it feel to be taken home with underhanded methods, eh?”  Caleb glared at the plushie in her arms, wondering if he could make it move just enough to freak her out. Maybe then she’d toss it.

They watched Zayne leave through the exit, but Pipsqueak remained rooted to her spot by the machines.  Her eyes were fixed on the remaining plushies behind the clear glass. “I can’t just take you home by yourself. You need friends...”

Caleb sensed something was off.  Pipsqueak’s train of thought was interrupted by a voice behind her.

“There are a lot of plushies in this claw machine,” said a purple-haired man who had appeared out of nowhere.  “Today, if you want, we can bring them all home.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes, anger rushing through his system. Who was this guy?  He was so fishy looking.  Why was he talking to pipsqueak?  What’s with this familiarity and attitude with pipsqueak?  The nerves in Caleb flared to life as he stepped in between pipsqueak and the new man before her.

“Oh, Rafayel! You’re here?” Pipsqueak greeted him warmly- excitement evident in her voice.

“Rafa-who?”

Before Caleb could react, Pipsqueak phased right through him, grabbing this ‘Rafa-guy’ by the arm and dragging him to the machine next to the one she and Zayne had just been at. Caleb gasped in horror. Just how many guys were lining up to win plushies for his Pipsqueak?

“I’ll do my best to get a plushie, and you’ll do your best to cheer me on,” Rafa-guy said to pipsqueak as he positioned himself in front of the machine.

“CHEER YOU ON??? CHEER YOU ON, MY ASS!!!” Caleb threw a punch at the guy’s head and turned to shake pipsqueak’s shoulder in outrage.  “DON’T YOU CHEER HIM ON!  LEAVE HIM!!!”

“...You’ve got this all planned out, don’t you, Rafayel?” Pipsqueak pouted, tapping Rafayel’s shoulder in encouragement.

Caleb’s jaw dropped. “ PIPSQUEAK, NO!!! ” He frantically tried to remove her hand from Rafayel’s shoulder. “DON’T CHEER FOR HIM! NOOO!”

His cries were cut off by an excited squeal from both Pipsqueak and Rafayel. Caleb whipped around, staring at the machine in horror. A plushie was firmly gripped in the claw.

“NOOOOO!” Caleb lunged forward, swatting at the plushie in a frenzy of rapid hits. To his immense relief, the plushie came loose and fell back down to the bottom of the machine. Caleb sighed, a wave of relief washing over him. He’d been too hard on Zayne. This... this was worse. Now there was actually a guy good at the claw machine.

Caleb owed his friend an apology.  “ZAYNE COME BACK!!!  I WAS WRONG!!!  I’LL LET YOU MARRY PIPSQUEAK FOR REAL, PLEASE!  I WON’T EVEN PUNCH YOU THIS TIME!!!”

Caleb watched as Rafayel gripped the controls of the claw machine again, clearly not discouraged by his previous failure. This guy just doesn't give up , Caleb thought, his irritation flaring. As Rafayel dropped another coin into the slot, Caleb felt a sudden tingle shoot through his ghostly form, the same sensation he felt when he was using his Evol.

He could feel the machine. Really feel it.

“Oh, hell yes.”

The claw lowered, aiming for a particularly cute plushie that was right on the edge. Rafayel’s smirk was back as the claw’s grip tightened around the prize. Caleb’s instincts kicked in. With a flick of his wrist, the plushie shot out of the claw’s grasp and flew into the far corner of the machine..  Giddy excitement rushed through him as he came to the realization that he was able to influence the machine with his Evol, though it was limited to plushies.  As much as he would love to have the chance to use his Evol to send Rafayel flying into the Deepspace tunnel and lightyears away from his pipsqueak, he will gladly take the ability to fling plushies and mess with an already-rigged claw machine.

“What the—?” Rafayel muttered, eyes narrowing. He swiped another coin through the slot.

“Nice try, Fish Boy,” Caleb whispered under his breath, excitement bubbling up. Rafayel moved the claw again, but this time Caleb swirled his fingers, sending a wave through the plushies like a mini tornado. Every time the claw neared one, it would slip out of reach, as if the machine had a mind of its own.

Rafayel frowned and pulled out more coins. "Looks like I just need to buy more chances."

“Is your Evol being rich or something?”  Caleb rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to win anything under my watch.” The plushies scattered every time the claw came near. One after another, Caleb flung them as far away as possible, refusing to let Rafayel win even one .

With every failure, Pipsqueak’s face grew more and more disappointed. “Rafayel... you’re really bad at this,” she said with a pout.

Caleb grinned, satisfied. Yeah, Fish Boy. You are bad at this.

“Let me try one more time,” Rafayel muttered, jamming another coin into the slot.

“Nope.” Caleb flicked his fingers, sending the plushie flying yet again.

Rafayel groaned in frustration. “I swear, these things are rigged…”

Pipsqueak sighed. “Guess we’re not getting any plushies today…”

Caleb waved happily as Rafayel sulked out of the arcade, a wide grin plastered across his face. He whistled innocently, trailing behind Pipsqueak as she stomped around in frustration by the other plushie machines.

“Oh, c’mon, Pipsqueak,” Caleb chuckled. “Don’t be mad. I can help you get any plushie you want, just tell me which one!” Despite actively thwarting her plushie-collecting efforts earlier, Caleb truly wanted to help her fill her arms with as many plushies as possible— as long as they weren’t won by some other guy , of course.

Caleb knew Pipsqueak was cute. There were always guys hanging around, hoping for a chance to talk to her, even when they were younger. If Caleb hadn’t been there to hover, walk her home, and glare down anyone caught in her charm, she’d probably have no clue how much attention she attracted. It was unfortunate he was stuck in this ghostly predicament now. If he were still alive, he’d have flung any guy who got too close to Pipsqueak across the street with his Evol. But for now, he was just stuck flinging plushies around. Better than nothing , he supposed.

“Just pick a machine, Pipsqueak. I’ll help you get all the plushies in it!” Caleb placed a hand on her back as she stormed down the rows of claw machines. “Make sure to get a lot of them. I’m flinging every single one at Zayne and that stupid Rafayel if they come near you again.”

Pipsqueak finally stopped in front of a machine. “Let’s see if I can remember anything from my 101 Tricks and Tips to Winning Something from the Claw Machine !”

Caleb laughed. “Is that a real book, Pipsqueak? You’re pulling my leg.”

Before Pipsqueak could respond, another voice chimed in.

“I think I remember the techniques to win from that book. Want my help?”

Caleb whipped around, wide-eyed as a blonde guy appeared behind them. “ANOTHER ONE?!”

“Oh, Xavier!” Pipsqueak exclaimed, brightening up as her coworker appeared behind them.

Caleb groaned, throwing his head back in disbelief. “How many guys are lining up to win you a plushie, Pipsqueak?”

“I read the manual, so I’m sure I can win you the plushies this time,” Xavier said confidently.

“Oh ahahaha, you’re so sweet, Xavier.”

Caleb took a step back, sizing Xavier up. This guy didn’t annoy him as much as Rafayel’s forward advances or Zayne’s obvious crush on Pipsqueak. But there was still something about him that didn’t sit right. Xavier was quieter, but Caleb knew it was the quiet ones you had to watch out for.

Caleb wasn’t going to let Xavier play plushie champion, but considering Zayne had only won one through cheating—and Caleb had actively thwarted Rafayel’s decent play—he figured he’d give this guy a fair shot. For now .

But it doesn’t seem like Caleb needed to worry.

Now Caleb is a humble man. He doesn’t brag much. So when he says he’s the best at claw machines— the God of Claw Machines —he’s not joking.

Watching three grown men struggle to win a plushie for his Pipsqueak brought him joy beyond measure.

“OOOH!” Caleb slapped his thigh in laughter. “AND HE FUMBLES ANOTHER ONE!” Caleb cackled as the claw completely missed the plushie again. “I’d have won you all the plushies by now, Pipsqueak. You wouldn’t even bother with these guys if I were still—” Caleb coughed, stopping himself before finishing the thought. He poked Pipsqueak’s cheek with a wistful smile. “I’m the best at claw machines, remember?”

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud sigh from Xavier, who watched the claw come back empty. The air was thick with disappointment.

“It’s okay, Xavier! I believe in you!” Pipsqueak gave him a few reassuring pats on the back.

Caleb had to look away to stifle a laugh. That wasn’t convincing at all.

“What plushie do you want?” Xavier asked suddenly.

Caleb turned, aghast. “ Bro—! That’s a bold-ass statement for someone on their third attempt!”

“Hmmm,” Pipsqueak peered into the claw machine. “How about you pick?”

“I’ll choose the one that looks most like you, then,” Xavier said.

Caleb rolled his eyes and pointed to a Cheerful Tomato plushie. “Get this one, dude. This is Pipsqueak.”

He groaned as Xavier moved the claw toward Fleecy. “There’s literally no resemblance—hey, is the claw... glowing right now?” Caleb squinted at the claw, then back at Xavier. “Dude, are you cheating at the claw machine too?”

He watched in curiosity as Xavier moved the claw toward the sheep plushie. The claw confidently descended... and missed the prize entirely.

Caleb figured if he weren’t already dead, he’d probably die laughing.

Did Caleb cheat at the claw machine sometimes? Sure. But at least when he did it, it was 1) subtle, and 2) he actually managed to win the right plushie every time. Was his telekinesis an unfair advantage? Maybe. Just a little.

Xavier fumbled his fourth attempt.

“Dude...” Caleb gave him a mock-sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Maybe it’s time to go read that manual again...”

Caleb waved farewell to the third guy who had failed to deliver on the claw machines that day. He was feeling pleased. Delighted , even. On the contrary, Pipsqueak was fuming.

“Aw, Pipsqueak, don’t be so mad!” Caleb teased as she began to walk out of the building. “It’s just unlucky today; we can try again tomorrow!”

Caleb was lost in his own little world when he noticed her suddenly stop in her tracks, her gaze fixed on an older claw machine tucked away at the back of the store. Unlike the newer, shinier machines in the front, this one was a bit more worn down.

“...Caleb?”

His heart froze. Caleb stopped dead, not daring to move. Did she just call his name? Could she see him? How could he even explain that—

But her gaze wasn’t on him.

Caleb watched in confusion as she darted towards the old machine that was tucked away near the back of the store.

“P-Pipsqueak?” Caleb called out, his voice tinged with worry as he hurried after her.

She stood still in front of the machine, her fingers fiddling with the last remaining token in her hand. Caleb traced her line of sight, peering through the dusty glass to see what had caught her attention.

Then he saw it: the familiar face of a pouting apple plushie. Its hooded eyes and pursed lips formed an adorable little pout; it sat there with two tiny arms placed defiantly on its hips.

Realization dawned on him.

“O-oh! I-It’s Caleb Jr.,” he chuckled softly, tapping the glass with a hint of nostalgia. “You remember Caleb Jr., Pipsqueak?” It was the first plushie he had ever won for her. They’d been to an arcade just like this one, and she’d named the apple plush after him, commemorating his victory—and as a playful nod to his love of apples. The bittersweet memory warmed him, but also left a lingering sadness as he gazed at the plush, still trapped behind the glass.

“D-do you still have him?” Caleb bit his lip. It had been so long; she probably threw it away or lost it. That was normal. He shouldn't feel—

“I... I lost you,” Pipsqueak’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper. Caleb’s heart sank. She was holding back tears, and he didn’t know what to do.  Caleb stared at the ground, trying to avoid the feelings of hurt rising up in his throat.  No, it’s natural, she wouldn’t have kept-

“I lost you... in Grandma’s house... in the fire...” Her voice cracked. “I-I lost everything about you…”

Those words struck Caleb like a punch to the gut, and suddenly it felt like he was burning all over again. Like he was back in that fire, losing everything. The guilt gnawed at him.

She kept it . She kept Caleb Jr. in Grandma’s house. She had kept him.

Caleb felt his heart burn and his throat choke, tasting cinder and ash as he forced himself to be calm.  She needed him. She always needed him . He couldn’t fall apart now.

“H-hey, pipsqueak,” Caleb placed a gentle hand over hers and cupping her face with the other, trying to wipe away the tears that were falling down her cheek.  “Don’t cry.  Please don’t cry.”

Pipsqueak placed a trembling hand against the glass, her body shaking as she tried to hold herself together. Caleb dropped to his knees, kneeling before her, cradling her face in his hands to catch every tear.

He hated seeing her cry.

And worse—he hated knowing it was because of him.

Her eyes, glistening with tears, seemed to stare into his as he looked up at her in reverence.  For the first time since he had passed on, he seemed to finally meet her eyes.  Her eyes seemed to stare into his as he looked up at her in reverence. For the first time since he had passed on, it felt like he was finally meeting her gaze.

He smiled woefully.

“Let’s rescue Caleb Jr. from here, hm?” he smiled at her softly as he ran his hand through her hair.  “Let’s rescue him and he’ll be with you again.  Always and forever.”

“...I’ll rescue you from here,” she mumbled softly through her tears.

Caleb felt a bolt of joy rush through him. It was as if she’d heard him—like she was responding to him. But... no, it couldn’t be. He bit his lip, swallowing the bitter feeling that rose in his chest.

He watched quietly as Pipsqueak slid the last token into the machine.

The claw jolted to life.

Caleb placed his hand above hers as she carefully maneuvered the claw over the apple plushie. “Let’s rescue him together,” he whispered.

With perfect precision, the claw descended, grasping the plushie. But as it lifted, Caleb could see it wobbling—barely holding on. The machine rattled as the claw made its way to the dropper, the plush slipping little by little.

“N-no!” Pipsqueak gasped, gripping the joystick with desperation.

Caleb sprang into action, focusing his Evol to hold the plush steady as it made its journey to the dropper.

They both held their breath.

As soon as the claw reached the dropper, Caleb let go.

The apple plushie fell into the dropper and the machine rang out in celebratory lights.

“YES!!!” pipsqueak exclaimed as she eagerly reached for the plushie, grabbing it and holding it against her in a desperate hug.  “I GOT YOU!”

Caleb let out a long sigh of relief, the tension of that single attempt finally dissipating off his shoulders.  He laughed.  “You got it, pipsqueak!”

Caleb looked on wistfully at her as she held the apple plushie tight, a tender smile on his face.  Pipsqueak held Caleb Jr. close, burying her face in the soft fabric. Caleb couldn’t help but smile wider. His heart swelled with a bittersweet warmth.

“We did it, didn’t we, Caleb Jr.?” she whispered, giving the plush a little squeeze.  “You’ve come back to me.”

Caleb watched as she stared at it lovingly, a taste of bitterness lingering on his tongue, as the object of her affections were meant for the plush and not him.

She whispered softly to the plushie, her voice barely above a murmur. “I missed you... I didn’t think I’d ever get you back.”

Caleb blinked, his breath catching. It felt like the words were meant for him, not just the plushie.

He remembered the promises he’d made to her back then. How he’d told her he would always be there for her, that no matter where life took them, he’d come back to her. And yet, here he was—so close, yet so far.

Pipsqueak’s fingers traced the edges of the apple plushie, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You always promised to come back to me,” she whispered, pressing the plushie tighter against her chest. “You promised me that you’ll see me every day when I wake up… Liar…”

Caleb’s heart clenched. I did promise you that, Pipsqueak. I’m still here.

She let out a soft laugh, almost as if she was talking to him directly. “You’ll stay with me, won’t you?” Her voice was quiet, the words filled with a longing that tugged at his soul.

Caleb knelt beside her, his hand resting just above hers. “I’m right here,” he whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear him, but wishing she could.

Then, softly, Pipsqueak murmured, “I’m so happy that you’re here with me, Caleb…”

Caleb froze.

Caleb. Not ‘Caleb Jr.’

She blinked, biting her lip, staring down at the plushie in her arms. “Oh sorry… Caleb Jr.,” she corrected herself as she petted the plushie affectionately. But the name lingered in the air, heavy with meaning.

Pipsqueak gave the plush a gentle squeeze, her smile soft but bittersweet. “You’ll always be with me, won’t you?”

Caleb smiled through the ache in his heart, knowing the answer even if she couldn’t hear him. “Always, Pipsqueak. Always.”

As she rose to leave, her grip on Caleb Jr. never loosened. Caleb followed closely behind, his gaze soft, as if the two of them were leaving the arcade together, just like old times.

And for now, that was enough.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Sergeant Christine ‘Riot’ Vega, Task Force 141

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47442772

Nationality: Spanish/British

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Sexuality: Bi (prefers men)

Birth date: 5th September, 1994

Height: 170 cm / 5ft 7in

Weight: 70 kg / 154 pounds

Hair: Natural blonde in several tones ranging from honey to almost platinum

Eyes: Light blue

Build: Curvy/Hourglass, well toned by training

Blood type: O- (universal donor, is fucked if needs blood though, Price is always requesting supplies when they’re on an op just in case)

Favourite colour: Red

Preferred civilian clothing: When off duty she usually wears blue jeans, usually skinny, red or black t-shirts, and black hoodies or sweatshirts, with trainers or boots and a leather biker jacket.

Hobbies: Cooking, learning languages, videogames, music (rock and metal specially, has a soft spot for pop and electronic sometimes), History and Archaeology

Studies: College graduated in History and Archaeology by Cambridge (online degree)

Parents: Medics for Doctors without borders, killed in a terrorist attack in Benin when she was eighteen and in college in UK. She enlisted right away and finished her degree online.

Languages: Spanish (mother tongue), English (C2), French (C1), German (C1), Russian (B2) / Can survive in Italian and Portuguese, and is trying to learn Japanese and Chinese

Tattoos: A rampant phoenix in an aggressive attacking position on her upper back and a triquetra on her right ankle (Soap has the same design on his left ankle)

Scars: Plenty on her body, from bullets to knife cuts. The more recent one is the large half assed Glasgow smile on the left side of her face, from the corner of her lips to almost her cheekbone, the reason why she wears the mask.

Headcanons:

- Plays both guitar and bass guitar, and Soap tried to teach her to play the drums

- They used to have a music group with other rookies

- Cold, silent and collected when in the frontline, Soap got a liking to Ghost at first because he reminded him of her. Down to the stupid deadpan jokes.

- Met Soap in boot camp, they were fast friends/brother-sister because both their brains work alike (lightning speed). She admires Soap’s proficiency with things that go BOOM, and considers him to be wicked smart, she can’t calculate that fast to save her life

- She adores Ghost’s jokes, and enjoys greatly to hear Soap squirm with them

- Despises tea, calling it ‘pissy water’ (her mother loved it though), prefers water, juice or coffee

- Rarely drinks alcohol

- Sings in the shower and used to like going to karaoke bars

- She is always cold

- Gets mouthy the more physically hurt she is. If she’s getting mouthy, flirty and cheeky, she’s bleeding heavily. Soap is thankful Ghost is not like that

- Her brain works at 200% speed, storing info (hopefully useful, most of the time it’s not). Example: she learns languages fast because she memorizes vocabulary and phrases at lightning speed, but she also knows by heart tons of dog breeds.

- Hyperfocuses on shit to the point of obsession and sleepless nights

- Her call sign Riot is NOT because she’s a riot (well she is), the story is even better. It involves a SAS rookie op in Turkey, staging a riot in a prison, breaking Soap out of the prison’s infirmary and a stunt leaping from a roof Soap still has nightmares about.

- She has a fucked up knee since then (and will keep fucking it up more, you’ll see)

- Likes very spicy food but can’t have cilantro: tastes and smells like trash to her (she has that gene, yeah)

- Has PTSD from the op in Transnistria, has flashbacks and breakdowns sometimes, but is determined to keep going. Price is surprised/pleased to learn that she goes to therapy weekly, instead of the mandatory once a month (he had to drag Soap and Ghost to go even once a month, specially after Las Almas which is why Price has deemed it necessary; Gaz goes bi-weekly)

- Got licensed as a drone pilot after a bad op with her previous unit, HeadHunters, where she was on medical leave for three months. She was bored out of her mind not doing anything, so she signed up for a course.

- Hates her last Captain with the passion of a burning sun, dreaming of putting a bullet to his skull. Price understands and approves (he despises him too), just warned her to not be caught if they happen to cross him (he has an alibi prepared).