#and the part that pisses me off the most is that they have let me work from home for one day

[jayparked]

85 and 92 with jake pleasseeeee 😩😩

loud moans push past your lips despite how hard you try to suppress them. you hate being in this position, hate how easily he gets you here, and hate how much you like it. the only good thing about jake sim is that he was somehow blessed by the finger banging sex gods. the way his digits piston in and out of your aching cunt has your thighs shaking, hands grasping onto him for some sort of leverage. it pisses you off that you even have to hold onto him, or look at him for that matter. but dammit he just makes you feel so, so good.

"try not to be so noisy, yeah?" chuckles jake, a little too smugly.

"shut up, jake. we agreed no talking," you bite back.

he leans closer to you, lips brushing against your ear as he drops his voice down to a coy, sultry murmur, "aw, c'mon. you don't want me to whisper sweet nothings in your ear while you get off on my fingers?"

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. that should not turn you on more. that should not have you shutting your eyes tight to avoid them from rolling back. which you're able to resist from doing. every part of your body is under your control. that is, except where it matters most.

"oh, baby look at you clenching around me. you like that? do you like the sound of my voice?"

"shut. up." you say through gritted teeth. you're half tempted to knee him in the dick. but that would mean acknowledging the very obvious tent he's sporting and if you think about that- fuck. you're already thinking about it. how girthy he is, the way you can feel his veins against your walls as he pushes his mushroom tip to the deepest parts of yourself

"c'mon, sweetheart. drop the spiteful act just this once. you can pretend we're not enemies just this once, can't you? for me?"

you consider it for a moment. just a moment.

"nice try but i'm not falling for it. just hurry up and make me come so we can go our separate ways like always."

your eyebrows furrow together as jake pouts, fingers slowing to a stop inside of you.

accepting that things are ending here, you grab your bag and pull your pants back up to your hips, swallowing how annoyed you are as you walk away from him.

"wait! y/n!" jake runs after you and grabs your arm, turning you back to face him.

"get used to the view, sim. i look best when i'm walking away from you.

"actually, i think you'd look even better under me. please let me properly fuck you. i'll show you i'm not a waste of time."

"if that's what it takes to get you to stop begging." you laugh softly, trying hard to ignore the feelings of endearment and flattery that are bubbling up to your chest.

"oh baby i'll beg for you all day if that's what you like. just say the words i'll be on my knees." and without hesitating, jake is on his knees, hands clasped together and shaking back and forth. those puppy eyes are impossible to resist, you can't deny it. so you laugh nervously instead, looking around you to make sure no one is seeing this pathetic sight.

"what happened to being enemies?" you say with a smile you just can't mask.

jake gets to his feet, brushing his hands on his clothes before looking at you with a wide, dorky smile.

"i'd like to skip to the lovers part. if that's okay with you."

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[1425fivefive]

↻FLIP FLOP for Learned Behavior

Monaco afterparty toilets scene - Oscar's POV

would love to see a little sneak into what was going on in Oscar's head, the whole Charles thing, the sex, and especially after the kiss, poor guy has been dealing with Lando's mixed signals for months

Beloved anon, this took me ages. Have 2k of the Monaco toilets scene in Learned Behavior from Oscar's perspective:

Watching Lando from across the room—glaring at Charles, sucking angrily on the straw of his drink—Oscar can’t help but wonder about it. What Lando and Charles were to each other.

When Oscar had asked about it back in Miami, Lando had gotten all weird and cagey, done this awkward, forced laugh and insisted that Charles was straight. But Oscar’s seen the way Charles looks at men. Noticed the way Charles looks at Lando, sometimes, when Lando’s not looking. Something hungry in his gaze.

A part of Oscar doesn’t really want to know all the details. The thing with Lando feels delicate, breakable. Like if Oscar pushes too hard it might shatter, Lando looking at him with watery, hurt eyes, even as he’s telling Oscar to fuck off.

And, like—things are fine the way they are, probably. Good, even. Oscar reckons he’d put up with a lot of shit if it meant he could still have Lando fuck him every weekend, call him a good boy, get off on telling him not to come. Trace a thumb over his lip, pull his hair, tell him how pretty he looks getting fucked.

Oscar surreptitiously tries to adjust his shorts. It’s just—he hasn’t come since Imola and he’s fucking aching for it, keeps dreaming about how good Lando feels inside of him and waking up hard, dripping onto the sheets. Sometimes he thinks about taking a picture of himself, hard and swollen and wet, sending it to Lando, begging Lando to let him come, secretly hoping Lando will tell him no.

Watching Lando staring at Charles, still, Oscar wants to beg Lando to pay attention to him. To forget about whatever bullshit happened with Charles and drag Oscar back to his flat, take him apart until he’s crying, finally let him come. 

But Lando can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Charles and before Oscar can really think he’s walking across the room, sliding into the pocket of space beside Lando.

Lando glances over at him and Oscar sees the way his cheeks flush, eyes going dark. It’s gratifying, at least, to know Lando’s attracted to him. But Lando goes right back to staring at Charles and it stings, being dismissed so easily.

Oscar tries to keep the annoyance out of his voice as he asks, “What’s got you all pissed off?”

“Nothing,” Lando says, still openly glaring at Charles.

Oscar glances over at where Charles is standing in a crowd of people, eyes bright, laughing and smiling. “You could at least pretend to be happy for him,” Oscar says.

Lando’s brows unfurrow slightly and he finally manages to tear his gaze away from Charles, looking over at Oscar.

It feels like a win, however small. “There you go,” Oscar says softly.

He thinks, for a moment, about letting it go. Asking Lando to take him home. 

But Lando’s been ignoring him for most of the night, and Oscar can’t resist saying, “I’ve never understood why you two don’t get along. Charles is nice—”

Lando snorts. “Charles isn’t nice. He’s polite, yeah, but he’s not nice.”

Oscar wants to say, Of course you’d think that, you two have some weird, fucked-up psychosexual thing going on that’s honestly getting extremely fucking annoying.

Instead, Oscar tries to make a joke of it. “Dunno, mate, the whole adoption thing—”

“Yeah, we’ve heard,” Lando snaps, letting out a mean little laugh. “No one’s been able to shut up about it, honestly.”

Oscar can see the flash of regret on Lando’s face the moment he’s said it, the look Lando always gets when he knows he’s crossed a line. Normally Oscar forgives him. Knows Lando says shit without thinking and doesn’t mean most of it. Especially when it comes to Charles.

But Oscar’s sympathy can only go so far when Lando won’t fucking talk about any of it. Won’t even admit the basic fact that something happened between them.

“Right, well.” Oscar knocks back the rest of his drink, setting the empty glass on the bar. “I’m gonna leave you to it.”

Lando looks like he’s about to say something, but Oscar’s not really in the mood to hear it. He turns to go, accidentally catching Charles’s eye in the process.

“Oscar!” Charles calls, waving him over.

Oscar knows how it’ll look to Lando if he goes over to Charles, but he sort of wants to make Lando jealous. After Lando’s been, frankly, a bit of a cunt all weekend, even after Oscar finished P2. Lando hasn’t even congratulated him on the podium.

So Oscar goes over to Charles, lets Charles pull him into a hug, lets Charles crow about their father-son 1-2, lets Charles grip the back of his neck and smile at him. It’s nice to have someone care, but Oscar can’t help but wish it was Lando touching him like this, smiling at him and reliving the race.

But before Oscar can really say anything, he hears Lando’s voice saying, “Mind if I borrow Osc here for a sec?”

—

Lando drags him to a toilet and he’s on him as soon as the door’s locked, backing Oscar up against the sink, fingers digging into Oscar’s hips, mouth sucking at Oscar’s neck.

“Fuck, Lando,” Oscar moans, too loud by half for a bathroom in the middle of a club. But he can’t bring himself to care, too relieved at the feeling of Lando’s hands on him, Lando’s thigh slotting between his legs.

Oscar grinds down on the hard muscle of Lando’s thigh, whimpering at how good it feels to finally get some friction on his cock. 

It feels like he loses any capacity for rational thought the moment Lando gets his hands on him, the second Lando starts telling him how good he’s being, gripping his arse with his massive fucking hands. 

“You sound so fucking good,” Lando says, breath warm against Oscar’s neck, sending little sparks down Oscar’s spine. “So fucking hot, Osc.”

Oscar can’t help but whine, grinding harder against Lando.

“Fuck,” Lando groans. He slides a hand down, gripping Oscar through his trousers.

Oscar can feel his briefs get wetter, cock straining against the zipper, the friction unbearable as Lando rubs at Oscar through the fabric.

It’s insane how Lando’s hand practically covers him completely. How Lando barely has to move when he strokes Oscar’s cock, his hand so big it makes Oscar’s cock look tiny, only the flushed head peeking out of Lando’s fist. Lando calls it cute, sometimes, tells Oscar what a pretty cock he has, small and perfect. It makes Oscar feel insane, makes him want to come all over Lando’s fingers and lick it off, beg Lando to fuck him, ask Lando to never let him come again.

“Have you come since Imola?” Lando asks.

Oscar shakes his head, whimpers. “No, I—you didn’t say I could.”

“Jesus, Osc.” Lando tips his head against Oscar’s shoulder, still rubbing Oscar through his trousers.

At this rate, Oscar’s scared of coming in his clothes. But he wants it so bad, feels like he’ll lose his mind if Lando doesn’t get him off. He’d hold it, if Lando said he had to, but he feels tears pricking his eyes at the thought of not being allowed to come tonight. He just—he needs it so fucking bad. Needs Lando to make him come, needs Lando to look at him like Oscar’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen, needs Lando murmuring praise while Oscar spills over his fingers.

Lando seems to be able to tell how desperate Oscar is, because he says, “You need to come, yeah?”

Oscar nods, frantic.

Lando’s already undoing the button of his trousers, tugging them and his briefs down his thighs, freeing his cock to the cold air of the toilet.

But Lando’s palm is warm when he wraps it around Oscar and Oscar can’t help the moan that escapes him, eyes sliding shut in relief, head tipping back against the mirror.

Fingers slide through Oscar’s hair, pulling, hard, and Oscar whines, eyes flying open.

“You have to look at me,” Lando breathes, stroking Oscar firm and fast. “You have to look at me if you want me to let you come.”

Oscar forces himself to look at Lando, forces himself to watch as Lando drags him closer and closer to the edge. Lando’s spouting nonsense and Oscar can’t help himself, whining and crying out as Lando rubs a thumb over the head of his cock, brings his hand up to Oscar’s mouth and tells Oscar to spit, before wrapping his hand around Oscar again, everything slick and hot and wet.

Oscar feels like he’s seconds away from coming, his abs aching from the efforts of holding back, thighs trembling.

But Lando looks like he’s enjoying it, like he likes seeing Oscar strung out and desperate. When Oscar meets Lando’s eyes, Lando’s pupils are so wide his eyes are practically black.

Oscar realizes, then, that he might never be able to walk away from this. That he’d let Lando behave as badly as he wants, treat him like shit, never talk about anything, as long as it meant Lando would touch him like this. Firm and confident and in control, looking like it’s a fucking privilege to get to see Oscar flushed and trembling with need.

It’s never—Oscar’s always felt fucking weird about how much it turns him on to be ordered around a bit, told not to come, fucked hard and rough. With his ex he just—shoved it to the back of his mind. Watched porn and otherwise tried to ignore it. There’d been a few blokes throughout the years, but—they all acted like they were doing him a favor. It wasn’t like Lando, who stares at him in awe, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing when Oscar begs for it, whimpers and whines and lets Lando tell him not to come.

Lando’s still stroking him steadily, asking Oscar all sorts of questions—whether he likes it, whether Charles would treat him like this. Oscar barely knows what he’s saying, just knows that he’ll do whatever Lando wants, say yes to anything, as long as Lando will make him come at the end of it.

“What’re you good for?” Lando breathes, eyes flitting over Oscar’s face, hand steadily stroking over Oscar’s cock.

Oscar takes a shaky breath, tries to figure out what the right answer is. He can’t work it out and, ultimately, he simply tells the truth. “Being used.”

Lando’s brain seems to short-circuit at that. He bites at Oscar’s shoulder, grip tightening around Oscar’s cock.

Lando’s hands are pulling at Oscar’s hair and his cock and he feels caught in Lando’s firm grip, laid out on display for him, here to be used however Lando wants. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

“By who, Osc?” Lando murmurs, staring at Oscar’s mouth like he’s thinking about kissing him.

Please, Oscar thinks. Please fucking kiss me, I’ll do anything you want.

And Oscar’s already telling the truth, so he says, “You.”

“Come,” Lando breathes, fingers pulling at Oscar’s hair, eyes locked on Oscar’s. “Come, baby, please.”

Oscar’s shaking as he comes, jerking forward as his cock spills messily over Lando’s fingers. It almost hurts, coming after being denied for so long but Oscar likes the edge of pain, likes how it feels almost sharp. Like he can’t do anything other than feel.

Oscar lets out a shocked gasp when Lando darts forward, pressing his lips to Oscar’s.

Lando’s lips feel incredible, warm and soft, swallowing Oscar’s desperate sounds. Oscar wants to fist his hands into Lando’s hair, pull him closer, keep him there. But his orgasm’s still rolling through him and he barely feels in control of his limbs, too overwhelmed by pleasure and the shock of being kissed to do anything other than moan into Lando’s mouth.

But Lando doesn’t seem to care, whining and licking into Oscar’s mouth, a shock of heat as their tongues slide against each other. 

Oscar doesn’t want to stop coming, wants to keep coming in Lando’s tight grip, whimpering against Lando’s mouth, surrounded by Lando’s heat and slightly-sweet scent.

But soon enough he’s slumping back against the mirror and Lando’s blinking at him with a dazed expression.

Oscar’s about to ask Lando to kiss him again when Lando’s stumbling back, grabbing paper towels and wiping Oscar’s come off his hand, tossing them in the bin and banging his way out the door.

Oscar lets out a shocked laugh, staring blankly at the closed door. “Cool,” Oscar mutters, grabbing a paper towel to clean himself up. “Really fucking cool.”

It’s classic fucking Lando. Acting like Oscar’s the hottest thing in the world, like Lando will die if he doesn’t get to fuck him, then going back to being weird and distant the moment it’s ended.

This would all be a whole lot fucking easier, Oscar thinks, if he could stop convincing himself that Lando actually feels something.

[ellouchi]

Jimmy dating headcannons (sfw/gn reader)

Disclaimer: this work contains unhealthy interpersonal practices and elements of abuse.

Side note: this was going to be LONGER and include nsfw but I've decided it's better to divide everything into parts. Finally getting this out because there is a critical shortage of Jimmy x reader works (cries and picks up a pen). Let me know if I missed something or made a mistake.

Enjoy!

— ok starting with the fluff: Jimmy feels too embarrassed to properly hold your hand, like some small shy boy. He will make it seem like you've the one who acts childish of course, holds your hand if you plead enough and only for a minute in public, for a bit more when in private. You can be lucky enough to tag after him holding his sleeve if he feels like it. Jimmy secretly loves to hold your wrist, especially in a tight grip, feeling your pulse beating under your skin (he is like a handcuff).

— Jimmy doesn't say "I love you", not in a usual sense. Instead it's always alternatives like common "You make me feel all warm and stupid inside" and the most rare "You mean a lot to me" spoken in a quiet sincere tone. Unfortunately "I love you"s are reserved for manipulation. He knows it gets people very compliant or/and defenseless. It doesn't do any harm anyway because he's merely speaking the truth. It's actually a litmus test if you love him or not, so be very careful with your words during those moments.

— primarily uses your name or alias you go with instead of pet names. Sometimes, Jimmy would use baby, babe, sweet cheeks (bear with me); dear, darling and love when he's pissed off or he tries to be condescending.

— Jimmy has a preconceived notion that your parents/family wouldn't like him, he has enough self awareness for that. Because of this, he'll try to make it seem like he's better than he is, so you better play along. If your family hates his guts, Jim doubles down, resulting in both parties wagging a war. Doesn't give a fuck about them at all after that disastrous first meeting. However, if somehow you family did take a liking to Jimmy, he's glad....but also puzzled. I think Jim has had shitty childhood, so when he is treated like a proper family member, he's lost. He doesn't want to see your family often because of his complicated feelings, but makes exceptions for the special occasions.

— Jimmy knows and remembers things about you to the points it's both scary and impressive: likes and dislikes, fears, dreams, ambitions etc. On the more positive side, this includes songs, books, movies, comics and anything like that — even if he doesn't like it, he has an understanding of what it is. If you call him out, Jimmy either says he doesn't care (he does, so much actually) or says "Of course I do, you can't shut up about [thing]" (lies).

— Jimmy doesn't have a lot of free time on his hands. If both of you are free, that means you are spending this time with him. No, your plans won't matter if they exclude Jim out of the picture. This involves discouraging you or outright sabotaging you. As per usual, he wouldn't find anything wrong with this kind of behaviour. You should just stop being unreasonable and spend some time with your lover. Look, he even went out of his way to find a movie you two would enjoy watching.

— birthdays with Jimmy are weird (if you could tell from the game). If you look forward to them, so does he; if you don't, well he congratulates you when the day comes and that's about it. It's much worse when the gifts are involved, because Jimmy will actually try to get what you want, and the more expensive it is, the more positive reaction he expects from you. He saved up throughout the year, denied himself pleasures and worked his ass off — if you don't shower him with appreciation and gratitude, he will make a scene about how selfish you are. On your own birthday.

— Jimmy keeps your gifts and trinkets in his drawer (if they small enough). He has some photos of you together, small souvenirs from trips, cute notes you left him — you name it. This habit will get creepy: the things having a lot of sentimental value to you, your trash like discarded perfume bottle and cream tubs, even your underwear. He wouldn't care if you made fun of him, but god forbid you misplace or throw away anything from that drawer.

— Jimmy loves when you rely on him. However, to a degree because this man quickly gets tired of running errands. If he offers to do something it's safe to agree, asking too much will get him worked up so don't overdo. With that said, Jimmy always does small things, like making your preferred beverage during the day, calling to remind you something, doing small chores unprompted, basically covering your bases. It's hard to feel unloved when you are remembered and cared for in that way. Also gives him an ammo for fights in case you forget how much Jimmy does for you.

— Jimmy insists on driving you everywhere (so people would know that you belong to him). Also it means Jim has lots of good punishments at his disposal when you two fight: lock the car from the inside? Leave you somewhere you don't know? Or just not pick you up altogether? Better leave all the arguments for later or don't bring them up at all...

— you are one of few people to see Jimmy's playful side: he just loves to joke around you. He wouldn't like it, but your sense of humour would rub off him greatly. If that wasn't enough this man loves to prank you in small ways: it's childish stuff most of times, like hiding or misplacing an item in your house and playing innocent. Other than that, Jimmy will whistle and catcall you when he sees you and will slap your ass in public when you leave. You are encouraged to prank him in return too, but you will be pranked harder next time. Grins, snickers and snorts a lot but laughs very, very rarely. However, it's one of the most healing things you could experience. Literally restores years to your lifespan.

— Jimmy doesn't like seeing you upset actually. He's not super soft or doting, he will pry the reason for your distress out of you whether you like it or not. If he deems it's unimportant, will tell you to suck it up, maybe even make a sarcastic remark. If it's serious business, he involves himself. Of course half the time it makes your situation worse and him angrier at himself which translates to Jim being angry at you.

— when Jimmy is upset, it's best to wait it out. I headcannon Jimmy used to have terrible anger issues but with years managed to control them to a degree. It doesn't mean he wouldn't lash out on you, his partner, it does get ugly. Him hugging you for comfort is actually more frequent than you would expect. As long as you don't address his tears or say much, Jimmy would calm down with little to no issue. Don't bring it up later too, he won't respond and will pretend it never happened.

— finishing with the reminder that you will be carrying Jimmy's emotional baggage as well as your own if you have any. I hope you have strong and healthy arms and back for that. If you're not careful enough or *cough cough* stay ignorant of Jim's bad influence on you, he will bring you to his level and mold you into who he wants you to be. But it doesn't work one way: in theory, you could "fix" some of his unsavoury outlooks but don't expect too much. After years of blood, sweat and tears it's possible to finally convince him to go to therapist. Praying he would continue on his own wouldn't be enough and you would need to actively encourage Jim to not give up on his mental health treatment. Way to go!

[annaphoenix1994]

Aftershock

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

A swift knock on General Herschel Shepherd's oak door disturbed him of his duties. With an irritated and curious "Come in!", Shepherd was pleased to see Station Chief Kate Laswell. Shepherd knew she meant business when she came to speak with someone one-on-one, but the news he was prepared to hear was not what he was in the mood for. "Laswell." He greeted, setting his pen aside.

"General Shepherd." She nodded, presenting herself in a respectful stature.

"Boy, do I know that look," He sighed, sitting back in his chair. "Are we at war?"

"You would be the first to know, sir."

"Damn right I would. Now talk to me."

She sighed, nodding before presenting her digital tablet to him, zooming in on an artificial map. "We have a hit on Ghorbrani's second in command."

Shepherd chuckled in disbelief, taking the tablet in his hands. "Hassan Zyani. Quds Force Major."

"He's taken up the mantle for Iran."

"Supplying terrorists."

"Money, weapons, intel."

"Well, he's ambitious."

"He's dangerous, sir. He wants retaliation for the Ghorbrani strike. He's planning something."

"We can't take him in Iran."

Laswell leaned over his desk, using her index finger to open a new page on her tablet. "He's not in Iran, sir. He's on the ground in Al Mazrah."

"What the hell is he doing in Al Mazrah?" Shepherd scoffed.

"There is only one way to find out, sir."

"Well, let's get him."

"When?"

"What time is it now?" Shepherd cocked a brow as if he were challenging her.

"Who do we send?"  

»»-------¤-------««

Are you kidding me? I'm helping take out a hit on a wanted terrorist and having to babysit, too?

I had been on holiday for the last seven months, pushing my body to its limits while training as I was a highly respected Lieutenant on my Task Force, which consisted of three other men: Captain Price, Sergeant Garrick, and Sergeant MacTavish, and only one managed to really get under my skin. 

I sighed at the familiar name, knowing that this was definitely going to be an interesting mission. Soap always found ways to get under my skin, taking advantage of the fact that he had the backbone to actually aggravate me, knowing I wouldn't do much about it because I let it go through one ear and out the other. The only thing I could do was shoot him a death glare and spew hateful comments, but neither seemed to faze him, like he was pleased with how well he could piss me off. I haven't seen Soap since 2020 when we and Captain Price were assigned with Shepherd to carry out a hit on one of our most valued targets: Vladimir Makarov, which ended up being a bust. We caught him, but Soap lost his composure and nearly shot him in the helo after our target misled us.

Fortunately for Makarov, he got to live to see another day, but that still wasn't good enough. The Russian rat could eat shit for all I cared, and I wish that Soap would've pulled that trigger, regardless of Price's command to stand down.

Maybe one day.

Soap jumped down from the back of the truck, smiling and nodding at me before approaching me, "Let's get ourselves a win, yeah, L.T.?" He questioned, playfully fist-bumping my shoulder. "I'll save you a seat, sir."

Of course, we'll get a win, Soap. We always bloody do, at least when I'm a part of it.

"Fucking hell." I sighed, watching him walk away through my tired eyes. I hadn't slept in almost twenty hours, and it was starting to take its toll on me if I didn't make myself move.

Plenty, but it'll do me no good to tell you about it. 

»»-------¤-------««

»»-------¤-------««

I had the pleasure of leading Bravo Team while Alpha Team kept close by. We cleared a structure completely before taking on heavy enemy fire, causing one of our cover-fire helos to go down, resulting in unfortunate casualties. There were many questions as to if we were to move ahead and secure the crash site, but I made it clear that if we did that, we were compromising ourselves, so we needed to push forward and clear the closest buildings before securing the crash site.

There were more snipers than I was expecting, but Soap and a Marine did me proud by taking out the snipers effortlessly as me and the other men on the ground could proceed with clearing the next building. Hassan was everywhere – like a God to these ignorant bastards. It was disgusting how someone could blindly lead a band of loyal followers.

Eventually, all enemies were neutralized. All except for one – Hassan himself, and I was sure he got away when we secured the crash site. Soap questioned if we shouldn't have helped the downed helo in order to catch our target, but I made a stern statement that all actions have consequences, and this was a prime example.

We secured a perimeter around the complex to make a last-minute attempt to search for Hassan as all of us didn't want to go back empty-handed. When a Marine used a heartbeat sensor, he informed us that there was movement detected in what looked like a vacant warehouse. "L.T., that warehouse has a lot of windows on the top floor. Broken glass, too."

"Yeah, that's where a lot of enemy fire was coming from." I shrugged.

"Detecting over a dozen heartbeats in there, sir," A Marine informed me, flashing the screen of his heartbeat sensor at me. "I'm willing to bet he's in there."

"Maybe not. Regardless, we need to neutralize it. Might be something worth finding. Spread out. I'll take point."

"I'll be right behind you, L.T." Soap said.

"Keep up, Soap."

"I always try to, sir."

The warehouse erupted with enemy fire when we forced entry, most of the bastards wearing armor and relying on frags and flashbangs. They were definitely protecting something, and I was going to find out what it was. I was a man on a mission, and nothing was stopping me. These bastards couldn't even come close to the force that I was.

"Ghost! All clear!" Soap shouted from his cover position.

"It's not clear until I can confirm, Sergeant," I grumbled, moving up and taking cover against a shipping container. "Sergeant Miller, ensure the upper level is clear."

"Yes, sir. My sensor isn't detecting any more heartbeats. Brooks, watch my six."

"On it."

"Hopkins, keep that door secure."

"There's no movement up here, sir!" Miller shouted from the upper level as me and the rest of the Marines moved up to secure a position near the shipping container. It was suspicious that a single shipping container was laying in the middle of the warehouse, a flat trailer and few crates nearby. What was in this thing?

"What the fuck is this?" Soap grumbled, opening the door to see a discharge station – the same one I had seen prior to when I was assigned to Al Mazrah with General Shepherd and his PMC group to conduct a missile strike on General Ghorbrani seven months prior to this. Why do they have something like this?

"It's all in English!" I scoffed in disbelief, stepping in to view the discharge station closer, confirming my suspicion.

"Al-Qatala's got some serious shit in here." Miller commented, keeping his eye on the rear entry point of the warehouse, his rifle aimed.

I could've scolded Soap for the curious pull he did to one of the levers, and perhaps I should have, but for once in a long while, I was too stunned to speak. Soap and I stepped back as we looked up towards the sound of hydraulic cylinders in action, watching a massive unit moving into a firing position. Fucking hell, we definitely have a problem now.

"Ballistic missiles." I sighed.

"It's a mobile launcher, no?" Soap asked.

"These'll go a thousand miles..." Miller commented.

"Yeah, at least."

"How the hell did Iran get their hands on this?" Soap cursed, walking towards the side of the container to climb the stack of pallets to get a better look at it.

"7-6, get us through to Laswell."

"Roger. Standby."

"Uh, Ghost... Take a look at this." Soap said, breaking my focus when he looked down at me, moving to the side before I saw an American flag painted on the side of the unit itself. Bloody fucking hell, these were stolen missile launchers. But how?

»»-------¤-------««

"All right, clear the room," Shepherd stated, entering the conference room of the Pentagon. His face stayed stationary with defeat, frustration, and anger. His employees looked at him stunned, each of them jolting when Shepherd raised his voice for urgent response. "Now! Everybody out! Let's go!"

Laswell stayed behind, standing at the foot of the table, eyeing her laptop as she looked as confused as he was. She knew she was about to get an earful for something that he could blame her for if he wanted to, even though it slipped through everyone's hands, not just hers. 

"Iran is in possession of American missiles." He said, confirming what Ghost had told him from the mission.

"American missiles in AQ's hands."

"Hassan has been passing out our ballistic missiles like it's fucking Halloween and we didn't know about it?" He shouted.

"Gives Iran plausible deniability," Laswell replied.

"Oh, plausible deniability my ass – Iran's all over this. I wanna know how many they have and where they intend to use them!"

"If Hassan is moving missiles, then he has a smuggling partner."

"Well, then I would advise you to figure out who that is."

"Give my team two hours with those missiles, sir. I will know everybody who's even breathed on them."

"Negative. I want them destroyed!"

"General, there's valuable intel there."

"This is an intelligence failure, Laswell! It's not gonna be a tactical one. There will be 500 enemy soldiers on that site by sunrise. We need a win fast!" He stated, leaning for his radio. 

A few moments pass by...

"Amsterdam..." Laswell said.

"What the hell's Amsterdam got to do with this?"

Laswell breathed a laugh, "It's a smuggling hub. Ports and canals are insecure. Iran has friends there. We do too..."

"Who?"

"The Captain," she said with a slight smirk, pulling up Captain Price's file. "He's tracking an AQ cell in country as we speak."

"Well, that's the first good news I've heard all day."

"I'll link up with him and handle this myself, sir."

"Kate Laswell back in the field?"

"I want this done right."  

[corpsentry]

it’s so funny to me when people make posts that are like i hate it when fandom mischaracterizes my favorite blorbo/fandom needs to stop reading the story this way/fandom reduces my blorbo to xyz trait when they actually contain multitudes bc they clearly have things they like and care about re: the topic but instead of simply sharing their thoughts they have to preface their joy with this kicking at the table leg bit that emphasizes how correct their opinion is and how everyone else is Lame and also Wrong like mein gotte it’s barbie dolls on some 35 year old who works in software engineering’s macbook you have contributed nothing to society by telling jessica from ohio software engineer to deepen their understanding of sakusa kiyoomi haikyuu. ‘fandom always ignores/forgets that’ ok and? your problem is? ? ? maybe people are happy writing chilfuck as a babygirl or marcille as something other than a girlfailure in which case good for them!! it sparks joy yahhhh!!! i’ve blocked enough people on twitter to mostly be at peace these days but tumblr is Not Safe everywhere i go on my dash there are these weirdos who think everyone else is doing fandom wrong. you silly man. you absolute buffoon. you mysterious moralist

like listen i am the most literaturepilled mf out here so i think i’m entitled to yap about this i like my characters fucked up and bizarre and quadruple-faced and so only read very particular fics but maine gotte i will not complain about it publicly because that’s my business! other people are here for other things. escapism. joy. Oviposition. and that’s great because life’s boring when it’s just you and 10 other guys like you. i’m telling you morally outraged random 18 y/o the oviposition guy is the key to the universe and i’m Old and Tired now so every time someone puts that ‘marcille is more than a genius and people need to stop writing her like awooga booga whatever the fuck’ shit on my dash they’re catching that block like a fist flying out of a can of tuna oh yeah i’m closing my eyes i do not see your dumb ahh shit i go to bed

[piningpercussionist]

Eh. Don't worry about showing Blaze or whatever he's called now. I'm a bit of a tattletale myself so I have no right to complain.

Also apologies that you don't like my energy yet it's not uncommon, and understandable.

- 💠 (ooc\\ yes I'm aware those were internal thoughts and this is intentional that they can hear them :3)

...

(Oh fuck that, actually. What the hell??)

*Kim stares down at the new message with a fair bit of dread, blinking rapidly.*

(How did they know that? How are they doing that?!)

*She looks around nervously, despite knowing that Blaze is the only other person in the apartment, at the moment. She taps her fingers on the desk, repeatedly and quickly, trying to work out the burst of nerves.*

(This isn't like with Doc. This is-)

*Kim looks concerned, for a moment, before grimacing and rubbing at her temples as pain flares up yet again.*

(I need to stop doing that. Whatever that is. At least that one wasn't as bad as- Kim, stop it. You're getting distracted.)

*Taking a somewhat shaky breath, she turns around in her chair, expression a little haunted.*

(( @matthewpatelaskbox ))

Hey, Blaze? Do you- come look at this, please. And the last ones, actually.

*While she waits for him to walk over, she types out her response, though she doubts the necessity of the act as she does.*

I think I'll be doing just that, honestly. And... no need to apologize, I guess. On reflection, whatever's up with you might be... marginally less invasive than some things that have happened before. Maybe. Although if you're freaking me out on purpose, continue to apologize actually.

[isablooo]

every time i blink theyre doing another terrible adaptation of a gothic novel will i ever be free

[genderfluid-druid]

“what happened to him?” “he read a book so bad he returned it to the library a third of the way through, but now his brain won’t stop chewing on the potential it had 😔”

[sneeb-canons]

mind generally feels little to no emotion except sometimes when he just explodes (usually with anger)

Headcanon #59

[dulcewrites]

It is still so fucking weird how easily people in the hotd fandom fancast parts that have already been casted???? Then claim ‘oh book accuracy’ knowing damn well the people they would rather play the role also are not 100% book ‘accurate’.

And it’s never for the reasons they should/could be different. Both Rhaenyra and Helaena get described as being plus sized in the book, but you can sure as hell bet the ‘book accurate’ castings people make only include thin actors. They only make them to disparage the actors bc they are piss babies about the direction of the show (with how people treat emma or liv) or bc the actors have ruined the incest self insertion vibe they want (emma or phia).

Bc both emma and liv have been vocal about how they see their show characters (key fucking word: show), they have recieved an onslaught on weirdos being cruel to them. With that unfair criticism comes the most ludicrous fancasts. It’s all wrapped in misogyny and sometimes even transphobia. The amount of gross screenshots I’ve seen from people the day emma was casted. Saying they aren’t ‘pretty enough’ to play ~the realm’s delight~…. The gag is most of those people now have Emma’s Rhaenyra as their pfp?? It just goes to show how all that love for a character is wrapped up in a wig and period clothing.

It’s becoming more and more clear to me, a thought I already had btw, that people only ‘stuck by’ Emma’s version of Rhaenyra for the delusional targaryen lover/staunch team black to the death of it all. Not bc they actually value emma or their opinions/acting. Bc the moment emma says anything but ‘Rhaenyra loves her uncle daddy’ (gag) or that Rhaenyra hates Alicent, suddenly people turn on them. Suddenly it’s ‘Olivia must be getting in their ear’. As if liv and emma being close means emma is going to change their thoughts or compromise their acting. Emma is an adult with their own feelings. It’s very weird to blame olivia on them clearly knowing that Rhaenyra cares for Alicent and vice versa.

Y’all need to put the played out Holliday Grainger (mind you she’s a transphobe who isn’t holding a candle acting wise to emma) fancast DOWN, and pick up some common sense and human decency

[naamahdarling]

Time for y'all to

send asks!

again!

[mermaidsirennikita]

Goodreads review pet peeves:

--using gifs

--using photos of people you imagine as the leads (which are always like, 10 years out of date, or like, Victoria's Secret Angels for the girl next door heroine, Henry Cavill, Henry Cavill, and Henry Cavill, especially when the hero is described as: scarred, kinda ugly, GIANT, blond, brutish, none of which describes Henry Cavill)

--"I love a man in uniform" okay blue lives matter

--"I loved this book.... but the heroine was SUCH a bitch, he deserved better!!!" [heroine had an active role in the plot, basically]

--"it just bothered me that he used violence against her" [consensual spanking]

--"I just wish authors would keep their pOLITICS out of MY BOOKS" [hero or heroine expressed regard for basic human rights]

--"I miss accurate historicals" [there was one (1) person of color who may or may not be a lead and wasn't suffering, OR the heroine is not a virgin and is not a widow]

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

i do see a lot of interesting takes on here about other social media which i feel are heavily influenced by the fact that lots of people on this website maybe don't have many friends

[girl-bateman]

My number one loser behaviour is hate-watching this one fuckass sims youtuber until I get so angry that I have to turn it off before the adrenaline makes me pull an all-nighter

[moderatetoaboveaverage]

Protester: I'm not going to vote for biden because of his support for an ongoing genocide

Lib: NOOO! STOP!! If you don't vote for Biden then Trump will win!! If we have Biden in office then we can pressure him into calling for a ceasefire! You lefty lunatics are going to doom us to Fascism!

Protester: is beaten bloody by the NYPD and hauled off to jail

Lib: Truly a shame, this is exactly the kind of authoritarian repression that you idiots will let happen in Trumps America. Our democracy is at stake, and you won't even go out to the polls!

[dustypantsfortherain]

(Discussion over me reinstalling Windows onto my computer because my hard drive got corrupted)

Dad: So they gave you Windows 11 with your computer with no way to install it.

Me: I bought Windows 11 as a CD and (sisters boyfriend) luckily gave me Windows 10 as a flash drive before I had a cd player to install Windows 11. Making it so that I did not learn till now that you needed Windows 10 installed before you install Windows 11.

Dad: So they gave you Windows 11 with no way to install it?

Me: I bought it from the internet. No one else was involved.