#roach needs an agent

[roach-works]

There is word going around that tumblr is moving to be a legacy project and will eventually be sunsetted. Ive been following your work for probably close to a decade, and id hate to lose track of you if tumblr goes down eventually. Is there anywhere else i can continue to follow and support you?

the sky has been falling on tumblr since forever, and yet i stick around. i don't know where else i'd actually enjoy, and im not interested in having a flood of people pitch me new alternatives. i know what i like, and i like tumblr, so ill probably ride this bizarre hellsite to the very last stop.

i might get a bluesky or a pillowfort eventually--if i do, i'll announce it. im finally going to have more time for creative work this winter, so it's possible i'll finally haul myself bitching and moaning on to instagram.

the boat boys series is getting another novel-length installment; in fact, the sequel to after the storm turned out to be three novels long, and so now the focus is on editing book two act one into publishing shape. it's probably going to be published like After the Storm, as a wordpress serial.

i've also recently finished the rough draft of my first solo novel, a coming of age superhero romcom. it's been pretty funny watching everyone start nano just as i typed The End on a story that took me a year and a half. anyway my goal this winter is to get the manuscript into decent shape and then hunt down an agent. if any agents have also been following my tumblr for a decade, hi, i love you, please save me.

after all that, im thinking ill either learn rug tufting or get really into furry porn. possibly both! gigantic neon monster penis could be a very fun subject for throw rugs.

anyway, i have a lot of cool stuff in motion im very excited to share, and ill find a way to let people know about it. thanks for sticking around!

[phantom-vs-agents]

Scuttle groaned as he heard the rapping at his door signifying that someone was there. With a grumble, but still keeping his blanket around him, he slowly opened it. Face tired, bags under his eyes, and blanket tightly wrapped around him, he let out a croaky: “Yeah?”

[ciaomarie]

Waiting on my AO3 invite. Here's a one shot Sydcarmy story. Canon compliant. Post season 2. Please excuse the grammar/spelling mistakes. I need season 3 to get here quickly!

Title: Won't You Be My Neighbor

It was her break and for the 89th time in the last three days Sydney reassessed the apartments within 15 minutes walking distance from The Bear. As CDC she no longer wanted to depend on the train should there be some kind of accident, strike, or weather event. There were three that she could afford on her own and many more options if she were willing to become a roommate. She wasn't. If inspiration for a recipe struck her at 2am she wanted to get up and cook if she wanted. She loved the freedom of walking around naked after a shower, picking out her clothes or getting a snack. Most of all she missed turning up her music and dancing like an inflatable tube man in private.

She had sent a message to each leasing office to schedule an appointment next Monday and two of the three had confirmed a 10a and 11a showing. It had been more than 48 hours since she messaged the third so she called. The leasing agent informed her that the specific unit she wanted was no longer available, but they had a gorgeous 2 bedroom for $3800 a month if she was interested. "Okay, now that's just two options" Sydney muttered after getting off the phone.

"Hey mija, what you looking at?" Tina asked sitting down to eat lunch.

"Just apartments. I finally have the funds to move" Sydney answered with a sigh.

"What's wrong? Aren't you happy to be getting out on your own?"

"Oh, yeah for sure. It's just I'm really picky"

"Well, it doesn't have to be forever. Just make sure to read the reviews. You don't want roaches or bed bugs".

"Oh, I can't stand bugs! My dad still has to kill them for me, but I better get a fly swatter and spray now that I'll be on my own soon."

Break was over and Sydney stood up to resume her duties. First she needed to talk to Natalie about the upcoming private party. A celebrity had reserved the entire restaurant next Thursday evening. The names of all staff members on duty that night had to be submitted ahead of time with signed NDAs. It was all happening so fast and The Bear's debt was likely to be paid less than a year after opening. First there had been a Grio article about her being a rising black chef. That led to Keith Lee, the TikTok restaurant reviewer, raving about his to-go order that included the T-Bone and the Michael cannoli. It went viral and suddenly, they were booked for the next three months with a waiting list. She was working harder than ever, getting paid pretty well, and she deserved a place of her own.

After talking to Natalie, she found Carmy working on her prep.

"Hey, thanks! I can take over that now if you want"

"Actually….it's done. I wanted to take you somewhere for like 30 minutes" he said finishing up and cleaning the station.

Sydney folded her arms, her eyebrows raised high.

"Okay, where are we going?"

"I know you've been looking for a place and I think know the perfect apartment for you. Just a 10 minute walk from here. The landlord gave me the key so I could show you today" Carmy said trying to sound casual, but a deep pink flush rose in his cheeks.

"Why is he being weird?" Sydney thought but simply said "Okay, that's dope."

The Chicago air was soft and warm, the clean sunlight making everything look new. Summer afternoons like this made you forgive the brutal winters here. Carmy directed Sydney when to turn left and right, but refused to tell her where exactly they were going. Soon they were standing in front of his building.

The reason for his weirdness was now perfectly clear to Sydney and she felt so flattered that she had to avoid looking at Carmy when she said "So, there's an open unit in your building?"

"Uh, yeah. The people who lived just above me moved and I, uh, thought you might want to see it".

The apartment was on the fourth floor. Carmy unlocked the door and let Sydney go in first. The walls were freshly painted in "Cloud White" and the oak hardwood floors creaked comfortably under their feet. The layout was the same as Carmy's apartment with plenty of windows to let in natural light and a shockingly large kitchen for a 1 bedroom place in Chicago. As Sydney inspected the appliances and bathroom, she decided that if the rent was going to eat up even half of her check it was worth it. She had always admired Carmy's spacious apartment and with her sense of style she could make hers, a cozy bohemian oasis filled with plants, wall art, and actual furniture (eventually).

Carmy had let her roam around in silence for a few minutes, muttering and emitting tiny sounds of joy to herself. When she met him in the living room again, he said trying not to grin too widely, "If you like it, it's already yours."

"How? I know places like this are snatched up fast" Sydney said her eyes finally able to meet his again.

"The landlords, they're a couple, and their 20th wedding anniversary is coming up. They want reservations at The Bear." Carmy explained, desperately hoping to sound nonchalant about it.

"Oh, that's nice work, Carmy."

Then Sydney squealed and cried "This is just what I wanted!!" and she flung her arms around his shoulders in a wild hug. Carmy commanded his body not to shudder as he hugged her back. She was just wearing a t-shirt and without her usual layers of clothing he felt her delicate frame, her slim shoulder blades imprinting on his fingers.

In a moment Sydney pulled back shly and let her arms fall to her sides, her face burning. She made a mental note: Hugging Carmy. Not a safe activity for those who want to cook along side him using sharp objects or sleep peacefully at night dreaming innocent thoughts.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" Sydney said taking another step back and making another turn around the room.

Carmy nodded and concentrated on not melting into the floorboards.

"You're okay with this? We already spend 60+ hours together at the restaurant every week and now I'd be in your building! And literally living on top of you."

"Yeah, well, I want you to. You deserve everything you want, Syd."

"Then I'll take it! Just a warning though. If you hear someone belting out Kpop and an occasional thud, that's just my weekly one woman concert, which will be over no later than 10pm. I'm not being murdered."

Carm was no longer unable to contain the width of his smile. This girl is so cute, his body physically ached. How would he get through service tonight?

With a happy shake of his head, he replied, "Thank you, for the heads up!"

With that Sydney marched towards the door and exclaimed "Take me to your landlord!"

Carmy floated behind her.

Cue: Maxwell's "Whenever, Wherever, Whatever"

[starrrbakerrr]

is anyone else so excited for the book, but really dreading the movie?

olive-skinned haymitch/seam isn’t a want, it’s a need at this point, but as they are expanding the visual universe and continuing casting white people in every district, it’s making it less canon that katniss, gale, haymitch and the seam are brown and that the divide between seam and merchant is apparent and noticeable. because to them (casting agents, director, etc), besides jessup and a couple extras, BIPOC people only exist in D11, not even in D10 which is located where Central America is today.

and this is no hate to suzanne because i really love the series and i will always support it, i just hate the concept of writing the book and lionsgate making a shit ton of money capitalizing off the world and lessons suzanne is trying to warn audiences. because for some reason the general public spent a good two months thirsting over a dictator and excusing his actions and abuse. and now it’s trendy for people to call zendaya and law roach “katniss and cinna” like katniss’s fashionable moments weren’t occurring under tragic circumstances. these people are the capitol citizens and should be gatekept from them.

there is so much potential for the book though and im still very excited!

[darth-mortem]

This is a second chapter of my COD fic "At the Crossroads of the Worlds" translated by @g8se.

Task force "141" was sent to clean up a secret laboratory, the research of which was financed by states recognized as sponsors of terrorism. The soldiers broke into a bunker located in the Caucasus Mountains on the Russian-Georgian border. At first, everything went according to plan, but after the fighters split up, Ghost came across a strange room, the door of which locked automatically the moment he was inside. Without knowing it, Simon Riley had set off an experiment that had been brewing here for years, and now he would have to be very strong to finally return home.

Chapter 2 of 6. 2431 words. You can read first chapter here.

Past character death, angst, action, secret lab, experiment, parallel worlds

August 15, 2016. Georgian-Russian border. Caucasus Mountains. Coordinates classified. Experiment status: Two hours after successful equipment launch. Experiment No. 16/3 successful. The object has been transported. Reality LW414/2016.

Captain Riley sat by the campfire, holding a cigarette between his fingers, trying to make sense of everything that had happened today. Next to him sat a young man in a balaclava with a skull print. Across from them were the two individuals they had met near the helicopter. The wounded soldier lay in a tent, bandaged and medicated with supplies from Ghost's first aid kit. The condition of this soldier was severe, but based on Riley's experience, he believed the man would survive and eventually return to duty.

Simon stared into the fire with a motionless gaze, but the moment when he leaped out of the helicopter still lingered in his mind.

The landing had been difficult. They were running out of fuel and Riley managed to land literally on its last drops. Opening the cargo compartment, he shut off the engine and unbuckled from his seat. People who had come to meet them were already nearby, and as Simon jumped out of the cabin, ready to help with the wounded, he suddenly saw who was approaching him.

The captain's eyes darkened instantly. His breath caught, and a piercing and unpleasant feeling stabbed him in the chest. He leaned heavily against the helicopter, feeling his legs giving way.

Before Simon there stood Johnny. He was older, had a scar over one eye, wore some outdated gear, but it was undeniably him, without any doubts.

“Hey, what's with you?” through the haze that filled Riley's eyes, the face of this Johnny appeared, and then strong hands grabbed him. “Are ye injured? Mate, look at me! Hey, who’s he, anyway?”

This was said somewhat to the side. The guy in the balaclava also approached, shifting his gaze from Simon to Johnny, and then shrugged.

“I thought you sent him,” he said and also peered into Captain Riley's face. “He got shot, but he's in armour, so he should be fine. Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Simon rasped, shook his head, and straightened up. “Solid.”

“Well, he's clearly not our enemy,” the third man intervened, who had managed to peek into the cargo compartment and was now standing a little further away. “So we'll talk later. We need to move Roach to our camp. Ghost, come on, help!”

“Yes, sir!” the guy in the balaclava and Captain Riley replied in unison, then looked at each other in surprise.

They all were soldiers, so, setting aside their amazement and confusion, they carried the wounded man to a small camp. The first aid kits of these four were half-empty and outdated, so Captain Riley pulled out his own. He used up all the haemostatic agents and stimulants, but he managed to stop the bleeding and stabilize the condition of the wounded man. They bandaged him and settled him in one of the two tents. After that, a soldier resembling Johnny lit a fire, and all four finally sat around, able to talk.

“Well, friend, let's get to know each other now,” said the man in the hat, lighting a cigare. “I'm Captain John Price. This is Captain John MacTavish and Lieutenant Simon Riley. The guy in the tent is Sergeant Gary Sanderson. And who are you?”

“I’m... Captain Simon Riley,” Ghost said, feeling his head starting to spin again. “Call sign - Ghost. I'm the commander of the Task Force 141.”

Now it was time for these three to exchange glances and lose their ability to speak. The guy in the balaclava froze, staring at Simon. Captain MacTavish coughed, choking on the smoke from his cigarette. Captain Price stared at Ghost for a few seconds, then spoke slowly:

“But we are the 141. And we don't know you.”

“But I know you,” Ghost replied and shook his head. “I mean, not you, but someone very much like you, and... I don't understand.”

“We too,” the lieutenant said. “I’m Ghost! Here are my dog tags!”

Captain Riley looked at his dog tags and pulled out his own. Two simple silver rings - wedding rings he had bought, planning to propose to his Johnny - hung on the same chain with them. He had hesitated for a long time, although he knew that Soap loved him, and then... then it was already too late.

Captain Riley's dog tags changed hands. All three examined them, and then Price handed them to the owner and rubbed at his temples.

“Okay,” he said in a completely bewildered tone. “Tell us how you ended up here. With all possible details.”

Simon lifted the edge of his mask, lit a cigarette, and deeply pondered, staring into the fire. They didn’t rush him, probably trying to make sense of everything on their own and maybe find some explanations. Lieutenant Riley, on the other hand, looked at him with wide-open eyes, mechanically rubbing his balaclava around his mouth, where Captain Riley had a scar that split his lips.

“On August 14, 2030, Major Price and I received data on a new mission for our 141,” Ghost finally spoke.

“What d’ye say?” MacTavish immediately interrupted him. “2030?! That's...”

“Son,” Captain Price put his hand on his shoulder, “let him tell everything. We'll ask questions later.”

“Okay,” Soap nodded, rubbed his temples, and looked at Captain Riley. “Sorry. Go on.”

“Intelligence uncovered an illegal laboratory funded by countries sponsoring terrorism,” Simon continued. “My unit was supposed to infiltrate the bunker where the lab was located, conduct clean-up, and find out what they were actually working on. We reached the destination on August 15. The combat groups of Major Price, Lieutenant Garrick, and Lieutenant Sanderson engaged with the facility's security. I went down to the lower level, took some scientists hostage, and then found myself in... probably the main lab. There was a strange room behind the sturdy airlock doors. I entered in, and the exit locked automatically. Then something started happening. Everything around electrified, there were sensors and indicators, a countdown, and then...”

Ghost paused, trying to recall the details, but they slipped from his memory, and he rubbed at his temples, furrowing his brow.

“Then I came to my senses where the bunker was, but on the surface,” he continued. “I saw... Lieutenant Riley and Sergeant Sanderson, General Shepard was about to kill them. The same Shepard that Price shot seven years ago, in 2023. Even then, I realized that something was off, but there was no time to hesitate, so...”

Captain Riley fell silent, glanced at Lieutenant Riley, and pulled out another cigarette from the pack. After a second of thought, he handed the pack to the other Ghost, who took it and lifted the edge of his balaclava. Simon saw that he had the exact same scar, splitting his lips.

“Ye mentioned Lieutenant Garrick,” MacTavish broke the silence. “Kyle “Gaz” Garrick?”

“Exactly,” Riley nodded.

The three soldiers exchanged glances again. Captain MacTavish started to look saddened. Captain Price shook his head.

“For a moment, I thought I was beginning to understand something,” he said, “but this fact changes everything. Captain, it's now August 15, 2016. There are no bunkers or labs here. We, 141, came here to find some information and clear our names. We've been set up, and now we're wanted. We trusted Shepard, but he was behind all of this.”

“And he would have killed me and Roach if you haven't showed up,” Lieutenant Riley added.

“I thought maybe you were from the future,” Price continued, “but our Gaz is dead. And we're at war here. With Russia.”

“What about me?” Captain MacTavish suddenly asked with interest. “Am I in yer unit?”

“Sergeant John “Soap” MacTavish was killed by the Russian terrorist Makarov in 2023,” Ghost replied bluntly, then stood up. “I'm sorry.”

He walked away from the campfire, away from the tents, disappearing into the evening shadows. He didn't see Lieutenant Riley stretch and kick Captain MacTavish with his foot, giving him a meaningful look in the eyes. Price sighed heavily, tossed the stub of his cigarette into the fire, and also got up.

“Okay, Soap,” he said. “I think we could all use a little snack. Let's check our supplies and organize us some evening grub, and Ghost, go and bring Captain Riley back.”

The lieutenant nodded and went to where his... double had disappeared a few minutes earlier. Simon couldn't find answers to the question; he only understood that he was literally drawn to the other Riley. Therefore, he easily found him among the trees and rocks. The lieutenant moved silently, but the captain still heard him and turned his head, exhaling smoke from another cigarette.

“Mind if I join you?” the lieutenant approached, but stopped at a distance, ready to leave if the older and clearly more massive Ghost said he was not allowed.

“Go ahead,” nevertheless, the captain replied in a broken and very tired voice.

The lieutenant came closer and sat down next to the fallen tree trunk. There was only one cigarette in his pack, and he sighed, lifted the edge of his balaclava, and lit it.

“You loved him, didn't you?” he asked quietly, unable to look at his double. “Johnny...”

“No,” Ghost shook his head. “I didn't love him. I still do, and that's my problem.”

“So those rings on your dog tags...” the lieutenant finally glanced at the captain, and he noticed that his eyes were suspiciously shining, as if from tears.

“Yes,” Riley nodded. “I dreamed of marrying him. Retiring together. Growing old together. That's why when I saw your MacTavish, I felt sick.”

The lieutenant fell silent, looking at the captain with wide-open eyes, and then impulsively moved forward and hugged him. Riley was stunned, but then cautiously placed his hand on the shoulders of his younger and much smaller double, bringing him closer. He didn't ask any questions about Captain MacTavish; he simply enjoyed moments of warmth and peace in this absolutely astounding and terrifying situation he found himself in.

“Shall we go back?” Lieutenant Riley suggested when they both finished their cigarettes. “The captains have probably cooked us food by now. You could use some dinner and rest.”

“Yeah, you're right,” the captain sighed, squeezed the shoulder of his younger double, and got up with difficulty. “And we need to check on your Roach too.”

When both Ghosts returned to the camp, Price and MacTavish were sitting by the fire, a pot was hanging over it. A familiar smell of field food wafted from the pot and Captain Riley even smiled a little under his mask, sitting back in his place.

“Simon,” MacTavish began, and both Ghosts looked at him. “Damn, we need tae come up with something so that ye two understand who we're talking tae.”

“Call me Ghost,” Captain Riley said. “Him – Simon. So what did you want to say?”

“Well, we talked with Price,” Soap paused, clearly unsure how to express his thoughts. “In short, it may sound strange, but maybe in tha’ lab ye were clearing, they were researching parallel worlds and ways to travel between ‘em? Yeah, I know it sounds like a comic book plot, but if we simplify it, this option seems the most true tae life.”

“Maybe,” Ghost replied, shrugging. “At least it’s some explanation.”

“Alright, boys,” Price interrupted. “None of us understand any of these things, so let's solve the problems step by step. Tomorrow morning, our pilot will arrive and take us to our temporary safehouse. I think, Ghost, you should come with us.”

“As you say, sir,” Captain Riley complied, lowering his head. “Probably, that's my only option.”

“Hey,” Lieutenant Riley sat down next to his older double and put a hand on his shoulder. “I can't even imagine what you're feeling, but let's try not to think about it right now. We all need to eat and rest, okay?”

“Yes,” Ghost looked gratefully at the younger Simon. “Yes, you're right.”

“Great,” MacTavish rubbed his hands together, then scooped a portion of porridge with canned meat onto an aluminium plate and handed it to Captain Riley. “Price ‘n’ I will take the first shift, so ye and Simon eat up and go tae sleep. We've already checked on Roach; he’s fine, as much as he can be in his condition.”

“Understood,” Ghost nodded, handing his plate to his younger double and taking the one MacTavish offered. “Thank you for all this. For believing.”

“We still don't know what to believe in,” Captain Price shook his head. “But you saved two soldiers from our task force and took down a traitor. So, we trust you. Now eat.”

Nodding, Simon took a folding spoon from his gear pocket and dove into his meal. Only now did he realize how hungry and tired he was. Finishing his portion, he immediately went to the other empty tent, not even waiting for his younger double. However, he quickly joined him. For a few minutes, they both fidgeted, trying to arrange themselves so that they were warm and comfortable. Finally, they froze, closing their eyes and diving into sleep. The older Simon embraced the younger one from behind, and he had no objections. Their equipment lay nearby, and Lieutenant Riley pressed his back against the chest of his muscular older counterpart, realizing that this warmth was much more comforting than the thin blanket they both covered themselves with.

“Simon?” the lieutenant called quietly, feeling the captain's hand on his heart.

“Mmm,” the older Ghost responded drowsily.

“I believe you,” continued the younger Ghost. “I don't know how to explain it, but I feel something common between you and me. You're different – so big, strong, and self-assured, but still...”

“Yes,” Ghost shifted, pressing the lieutenant closer to him. “I feel it too. Simon?”

“Yes?” the younger one tilted his head slightly to look at his older double.

“You may not be as big as I am, but I'm sure you're very strong too,” Captain Riley spoke and smiled, causing his eyes to narrow slightly in the openings of his mask. “Let's go to sleep.”

“Yes,” the lieutenant settled back down and relaxed, feeling absolute trust and peace toward this visitor from a parallel universe.

Captain Riley had the same scar that cut across the lips. Perhaps his other scars matched those of the lieutenant? Maybe in his world, he experienced the same horrors? Maybe he could understand Simon?

All of this troubled the young lieutenant, but drowsiness was stronger, and feeling the captain's steady heartbeat and his hand on his chest, he fell into such a peaceful sleep that he hadn't experienced since Shepard, the traitor, took him from the scorching fire of Manuel Roba’s base.

[crunchyroaches27]

pt2 of hybrid!Soap and owner!rescuer!Ghost

one of my first fanfics, I apologize beforehand 😔✊

ermm.. sorry I took like two years to post this

AU where soap and a couple other randos are half a different species bc of evil scientists!1!! Soap is half tiger.

GHOST’S POV

Gaz and Roach had agreed with Ghost to split up the responsibilities. They each chose three hybrids to examine. The three men all wished each other luck in their difficulties, and strutted off.

Ghost had ended up with the responsibility of analyzing Hector, a male eagle hybrid, Dimah, a female dog hybrid, and (after much convincing and persuading) Soap. The engrossing tiger hybrid.

The first hybrid was quite a challenge, many angry screeches and profanities coming out of the eagle in response. "Fuck off!" He'd caw. Ghost chucked a chunk of meat treated with a calming agent, and observed as the hybrid's temper soon died down as he ate it.

Everything soon went smoothly, and Ghost (clad in his most protective armor) started to examine the man. His eyes, mouth, etc. Ghost was no doctor, but he made sure to be diligent and meticulous.

The dog hybrid was a fairly simple task. The woman, at first glance, was skeptical of Ghost. She kept her distance. Realizing Ghost was no threat, she bounded up to him, eagerly hugging and greeting Ghost in Urdu.

She stood there, docile, patient, as Ghost prodded and explored her body, checking off little boxes after every examination. Ghost fed her a slab of raw venison for her good behavior.

Then, finally, came Soap.

Ghost first watched the tiger-man through the transparent wall of glass, as if to determine if Soap needed to be fed a piece of the calming meat. Yet Soap only gazed right back, his curiosity glinting conspicuously in his eyes.

SOAP’S POV

Soap flicked his tail inquisitively. It was the man in the skull mask. He still wasn't sure what it was for, so he ruminated for a while longer, staring into the blue orbs of the mysterious human before continuing to groom himself.

Soap heard the door of his enclosure click open with a high-pitched beep and a shocked, pronounced hiss was delivered from his maw. He jumped to his feet in surprise. Soap took Ghost's intruding of his space as a sign of hostility and he bristled.

"Calm down, mate," Ghost held his hands out in a manner that proved he was no harm. Tentatively, Soap settled back onto his side, ears twitching skeptically as Ghost approached with his checklist. Sounds British, noted Soap.

Soap watched with pupils as thin as hair as Ghost started to pull at his tail, pressing down on it and feeling the bone underneath. Peeved by the uncomfortable pressure on his tail, he sat up in a flash and batted at the side of Ghost’s head audaciously. "Stop that," Soap ordered.

Soap picked up on Ghost’s grumbly noise of frustration. He found that taunting the man was quite humorous. He was quite sardonic, the little prick. Soap sniggered and flicked his tail mischievously, as if inviting Ghost to examine him again. “I’ll let you examine me,” he purred. “Just, eh, tell me yer name.”

GHOST POV

The purr of mischief that came from the tiger was piquing Ghost, but he sighed and tried to melt his angry regards away. “My name is Simon. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.” He introduced himself, and gestured to Soap to part his mug. “Open your gob,” Ghost ordered, pinching a tongue depressor between his index and thumb.

“Ya didn’t say Simon says,” Soap cleverly quipped back, sitting up in his seat. Ghost, for once in his life, found a witty play of words humorous and his eyebrows rose in amusement. “Simon says open your greedy mouth,” he chuckled out, beguiled. “Fuckin’ brits,” Soap obediently carried out the order and parted his jaws, leaving Ghost a bit dumb when his carnivorous teeth revealed themselves. Ghost grunted and pressed down on Soap’s barbed tongue, shining a flashlight to bring light to the back of Soap’s gullet. Ghost scribbled a check mark of the paper.

A cheeky response at every examination was unavoidable.

Soap had stood up upon Ghost’s request, for an evaluation of his physical body. “How tall are you?” Ghost inquired, pen bouncing up and down repeatedly on the checklist. “I like to tell the ladies I’m six-five.” “What ladies?” Soap would then hiss offendedly at Ghost’s equally wicked reply.

Then, came the awkward questions.

Ghost prepared himself mentally, but casually querying about another man’s, no, creature’s shaft with its owner was something Ghost could not do without hours of mental prep. Sadly, he did not have prep.

“Okay, so, you got.. ahem, FIV?” Ghost chewed on his bottom lip; the silence seemed like a constant buzz in his ears. “No. Don’t think so,” Soap susurrated meekly, shifting his weight onto another foot. Soap’s long, round muscles rippled beneath his shirt and for a moment, Ghost was impressed.

Ghost cleared his throat before flipping over a page. “You dysfunctional?” “Er.. no,” Soap would reply once again in a shy intonation, yet there was a faint undertone of frustration. “Healthy swimmers?” “I- Uh, I don’t know.” “Any probl-“ “My dick is fine, Simon.” Soap hissed under his breath, clearly embarrassed to be having this sort of conversation.

“Of- of course.” Ghost suppressed a fat chortle, which made his the corners of his mouth twitch. He ticked off one more box and wrote a couple comments before speaking. “That’s all.” He finished, sauntering towards the exit of Soap’s enclosure.

SOAP’S POV

Soap chewed on his meat that had been chucked at him by Ghost as praise for his good work on his bodily exam. Sure, the last string of questions were awkward, as they were talking about Soap’s barbed dick, but his other owners had done worse. Like collect his semen non-consensually. They’d spritz the urine of a tigress in heat, drive him into a frenzy, then manually fetch his sperm while he was vulnerable for testing.

Soap shuddered at the memory, then at the feeling of pleasure he would gain from that experience. He, no doubt, had reveled in satisfaction when the fleshlight-like object coaxed him into cumming, the way the liquid warmth gratifyingly shot out of him. Soap felt his face flush. The blood in Soap’s rushed to other places other than his mug.

Soap noticed the tightening between his legs, and quickly scrambled to a new position that concealed his erection from the watching cameras. With bated breath, Soap went deeper into his foliaged habitat, thankful that the task force customized his enclosure to his natural environment.

He did his many deeds (as tigers can cum 50 times a day) behind the heavy lush and Soap struggled to stifle his yowls. Instinctually, Soap balled up his fist and pushed it onto his lips. He bit onto the soft tissue, as if it was the nape of a tigress.

GHOST’S POV

Ghost could swore he heard the pesky caterwauling Soap usually produced, but the sound seemed stifled, like if Soap was gagged. His fingers fidgeted uneasily with his belt. Ghost hurried to the camera room and flipped to Soap's channel.

At first tere was nothing unexpected, though. Soap was resting on his makeshift cot, his muscular back facing Ghost. Until he noticed the ragged manner in which Soap’s chest rose and fell, like if he had running in circles for the past two hours.

Ghost tapped on the transparent glass wall in an attempt to draw Soap’s attention. Promptly, Soap twisted to face Ghost, and quickly groomed his hair before sitting up. What? Ghost could see him mouth, not missing the tiny detail that Soap’s face was flushed.

Ghost mimed permission to enter Soap’s territory, prodding a finger at his own broad chest then pointing a finger to inside the foliaged room. Soap tentatively chewed on the bottom of his lip before nodding, shrugging his shoulders dismissively. He laid back down on his little mattress.

Ghost clicked the door open with a swipe of his personalized keycard. “You okay, mate?” He’d question, taking a couple more paces ahead until Soap was an tail’s length away. “Yeah,” Soap would reply back with a lazy meow. Ghost could practically hear the lump Soap just swallowed. “Why’re you looking so.. beat?”

To that, Soap did not reply. Ghost, worried that the hybrid might be homesick (why would he, he’d lived in a hellhole??), he crouched down to examine Soap’s face closer. “MacTavish,” Ghost growled at Soap’s uncharacteristically angsty demeanor; he was having post-nut clarity. Soap rumbled a snarl back in an irritated intonation.

“Wanker,” Ghost commented back silently. Soap snorted and turned his head to look at Ghost from the corner of his eye. “You alright? Hungry..? Sick?” Ghost listed, and for each possibility, Soap just nodded a no. His single, thick strip of hair was disheveled from his activities, and Ghost almost mechanically ran his fingers through the swathe of hair.

Unintentionally, Soap purred as the wordless interaction continued. His throaty vibrations involuntarily hypnotized Ghost into continuing the intimate gesture, with Soap taking it blissfully— his slit eyes slowly blinking. It felt so nice— how could Soap have such soft hair? Ghost dared to rub those cute ears.

SOAP’S POV

Soap mrrped, delightedly surprised with his ear being massaged. For a moment, his ponderous clarity vanished and he leaned into the touch of the mysterious skull-clad man. He gripped Ghost’s flanks, ensuring that the petting would continue. Soap felt a sense of repulsion; he was acting like a wee kitty pet. He loved it at the same time, feeling that soft flesh he so wanted to tear stroke him so deliberately...

”Stop and I’ll claw yer white arse to oblivion,” Soap hissed threateningly, leaning in even closer to Ghost’s touch. At one point, his scalp rubbed against Ghost’s broad shoulder. “Don’t stop,” he breathed once again, tail curling into itself. So, this was what it was like to be treated right? To have his own habitat adapted to his needs? To be able to catch and eat small prey; to be able act as a true tiger every now and then? Soap could get used to that, Lovingly, Soap toppled onto his newfoundedly decided ‘owner.’

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 7 "the walk" thoughts

today was another awful day at work. trying to hope that it’s just the getting started part that makes this job awful and not that the job itself is awful, but i need my scully and mulder time again tonight. fetch me them. this instant.

let us begin. a man is in a hospital. someone won’t let this man- who we learn is a lieutenant colonel- hurt himself. he glances at a mirror.

oh, and he’s out of his hospital bed and breaking loose. into some boiling water? with weights in his pockets. oh nooooo. someone catches him and he says again that “he won’t let me die” HUH? what is going on???

man, i feel bad for this poor gentleman. idk who is tormenting him so. but i hope the “he” the lieutenant colonel spoke of leaves him alone. 

oh shoot, the agents are there three weeks later and he is in this sort of… facial gear stuff because of the burns. and his hands are wrapped up, too. i realize now i have almost no familiarity with the process of treating burns. i guess i’d never thought on it before.

scully’s taking notes while mulder asks about whoever this poor man sees when these awful things happen… he sees a solider standing at attention. a ghost? a real guy? a secret third thing?

oh! scully is not taking notes. she is passing them. she says it’s classic ptsd. her handwriting… it’s nice <3

the man says that whoever is tormenting him burned his wife and children alive???!?!? hello??!?!

someone pulls them out and asks them to suspend their investigation and scully is NOT having it. at all. putting her foot down. as she should. oh the general can’t talk “ask him to make himself available” okayyyy!!!! mulder looks pleased by this. but some guy delivering mail overheard what was going on and seems deeply troubled.

guy carrying mail goes down the hall and he seems to be crashing a group therapy session, where a man who has lost a leg is describing his recurring dream, which he calls “the walk”, running with his family, and it seems so real. he’s opening up! talking about his feelings! all good things to be doing in therapy!!

and some guy named leonard is being mean??? tearing down his happy dreams? saying they’re not “normal people”. and the walk dreamer says they ARE normal people, but leonard is like nope. no you are not.

leonard points out that he has no arms and no legs and that he prays god will come down and take away the dude leading the group’s arms and legs. oh. this seems unhealthy. then he gets wheeled out by the mail guy. who is named. roach.

roach is freaking out because the fbi agents are here, asking about the lieutenant commander. and he says “to hell with the feds”. so is this leonard the guy that burned his family alive??? is he torturing him?? or something??

now scully and mulder are being called into the general’s office. and the general, named callahan, is yelling at them for misconduct. i’m a little confused tbh but i guess they were supposed to go through him? um. okay. sounds like they’re trying to keep secrets and NOT the fun kind! 

scully is NOT letting this man go. and she shouldn’t! um why doesn’t his file mention his whole family died… yeah i’d be asking the same thing!! the general is like yeah it’s sad. but why are you here.

OH TEA??? ANOTHER person had their family die in a fire and had tried to hurt themselves but kept saying someone was stopping them… oh scully is PISSED today!!! she demands a stop to this nonsense and some answers.

she says she thinks it’s very clear what is going on here: she thinks the men killed their families, and the general is hiding that fact. OH! my brain didn’t go there. but i can see why she would think that. anyway they are sleuthing about. 

general looks stressed as hell. he tells the woman- captain draper- to go home. pulls some alcohol from under the desk. but then HE STARTS SEEING A SOLDIER saying “your time has come”!!! and there are spooky noises coming from a cassette tape!!!! 

draper is swimming. i knew something was about to go down, because we rarely see people swimming just for the fun of it, except that one time in season 2 where mulder was swimming about at the beginning of the episode. anyway, it’s very quiet and spooky. she seems to think she sees something. OH. and something does in fact grab her. and pulls her under?!!!! NOOOOOO 

scully at the scene as they pull the body out. general callahan is there too, and he seems surprised. there are bruises around her neck so it is not looking accidental. 

mulder says that if the pattern is consistent, the general’s family might be in danger. he seems offended by this but a pattern is a pattern. and mulder’s hair is messed up a lil aww. AND NEXT CUT ITS FIXED HAHA they must have spruced him up!!!! that is so funny

general seems to have taken the message to heart. talks about seeing a guy and the phone going wild. 

okay back at the general’s house… someone magically got through the door??? like the mail guy. oh it’s ROACH!! 

(i thought that later in the episode we would get an explanation as to how he sort of just clipped into the house but. it was never revealed)

fbi at the house. playing the spooky audio from the phone message. mulder is pondering. scully is looking around. she is always looking around and i love that about her. SHE SAW SOMEONE IN THE YARD!!! queen of spotting things.

ohhh leonard is at the doctor’s. and roach is approaching. he is bringing something from the callahan’s house TO leonard. and he says he doesn’t want to do it anymore but leonard says he wouldn’t be in the wheelchair if it wasn’t for him, so he owes him. oh that’s not how that works i don’t think…

he says “the enemy must be defeated” um is the enemy your boss? i have had some bosses that are enemies. but he’s speaking as someone who was sent to war and their erroneous decisions put him in peril. so very different context.

the earlier burn victim lieutenant colonel is being wheeled down to the doctors/nurses and he seems really freaked out to see leonard. i wonder if he can sense who it was…

(scully walks in to find mulder replaying the same cassette again and again) “find anything?” “no, but i’m really beginning to like the tape :)” AUGH i paused here to type down that line and he has the BIGGEST nerdiest smile it’s priceless :) need to find this screenshot so i can just look at it when i’m down

but scully says we found some fingerprints!!! and they go to roach’s place and arrest him. mulder is looking about a very nasty kitchen. and in a cupboard he finds mail stolen from all the targeted people!!!!

the general’s son sees a soldier but he’s not worried about it so maybe it’s a guy they know?? or someone guarding them since they might be in danger. but then he gets BURIED IN A SANDBOX??? and the soldier tries to dig him up. 

NO!!! THE BOY DIED!!!! 

this is really sad.

roach, in custody, identifies himself as “rappo’s mailmail” so it turns out rappo is leonard. same guy. and now he’s a suspect. scully thinks roach lied but we can’t rule anything out i know this tv program.

so leonard is dreaming. and roach is saying he knows this place, that he isn’t safe here, that he’s going to be killed. so is it in his dreams that leonard can go about and murder people?

for some reason mulder has been carrying around dental x-ray plates and she’s like “i know, you’ve had them the whole time” so i’m glad they’re at a point in their relationship where they don’t feel the need to ask, “hey, why are you carrying around stuff from the dentist” there is just that implicit trust 

oh, mulder is saying it is a case of astral projection, and that this leaves behind radiation. and maybe he needed a piece of their mail to form a connection. and then he plays the cassette backwards and it says “your time has come, killer” ohhh!!

so they go to question him and mulder jumps straight in with the “why did you kill him and also why can you leave your body” 

OH LEONARD SAYS SOMETHING NASTY TO SCULLY this is a good way to make mulder very angry. but leonard screams in his face about him not knowing war, or what it’s like, and he is INSISTANT that he is astral projecting

the callahans are putting away the boy’s toys nooo it’s so sad :( they’re both crying and he’s pouring a drink when he sees leonard in full gear and then his wife dead on the ground!!! and the phone rings while he pulls out a gun. 

the general has his gun and brings it to the lieutenant colonel. and he says the same guy won’t let them die. and the lieutenant colonel knows who it is!!!

callahan is confronting leonard, who says he killed his wife and his son. he fired like a million bullets. but none of them hit, just went right in the wall. agents roll up just as leonard enters some kind of trance. and callahan gets in the elevator, having refused to kill leonard like he’d hoped for!!!!

the general goes to a bottom floor, where pipes are exploding and the voice is talking about how his time has come.

enter mulder, who finds him on the floor, but also the astral projecting leonard is decking him.

and the colonel goes in there and smothers leonard!!!

scully is mad because she was trying to save leonard from what she thought was a seizure but she was interrupted and instead watched a murder go down. not a great feeling, i’m sure.

episode wrap up. no physical evidence that leonard committed the murders. but he meant to keep his victims alive and suffering. and as mulder talks about the case, the lieutenant colonel walks in and hands the general some stuff. and he walks away pushing a cart, while mulder ponders what can destroy the human nature.

well. that sure was a dark one. 

it turns out i’m not big into episodes where children die. just ruins the whole tone.

i think there were some interesting concepts being explored here, on who suffers the most in war, the ordinary men being sent out to fight and be fought while others give the orders from relative safety. and the resentment that dichotomy causes. as well as the weaponization of survivor’s guilt in the form of roach just going along with the evil schemes. that is interesting. 

but all things considered, it was a bit too dark for me. it was lacking in whimsy or jokes, which i like to keep going at an even pace. i liked to see a very determined scully, and a mulder who was smiling happily on his cassette tape streaming endeavors, but other than that, this was a real bummer.

i will say, it did mostly successfully distract from my garbage day, though, so i do not take this for granted. it just would have distracted me a whole lot MORE had there been a higher number of stolen glances and grasping hands and brushing fingers through each other’s hair or cradling of injured bodies. these are really balm to the wounded soul.

[muldermuse]

what about jealousy the other way around? like Fox getting close to someone they're working a case with (kinda like the roach episode) I love your fics by the way!!!!

Thank you so much for sending this through!!!! I went a different way with it but I hope you like it my love <3 <3 <3

I wrote this really quickly so it is def not 100% but pls allow it - it was fun to write. Reader and Mulder are in an established relationship in this fic!

If you have a fic idea, or hc, or Fox thoughts (or thots) pls send them through!!

Fox’s new case has introduced you to a new colleague, a woman who you’ve watched from afar before, Agent Brenda Wilson. There’s something about her you are unsure of, call it intuition or call it your ability to overthink most things in your life. Around the building, day to day, you never really see her. You don’t say hi if you do, you don’t know her and she doesn’t know you. You’re sure she’s never noticed you and you hope that she never does. That is, until, Scully gets assigned to a case that takes her away and Agent Wilson has to step in for additional support for the X Files. Mulder is trying to keep on Skinner’s good side so despite being certain that he does not need a glorified babysitter; he stays quiet about Wilson's brief transfer to the basement.

Each day this week when you’ve gone down to drop off his post-lunch coffee, she’s been there, perched on his desk. She eyes you as soon as you enter the artificially lit room and you feel tiny. It's as if she's a predator and your prey, innocently meandering into the Lion's den with a Starbucks for you and your boyfriend. You try and swallow down whatever disgusting jealous feeling is rising in your throat as you slide his coffee across the desk to him.

Apart from stilted greetings, she never really speaks to you but she must know about you and Fox; that’s what you reason. There’s nothing malicious happening, especially on the side of Fox, who has told you at length how there is no one else for him but you.

“You know, Agent” she maintains her eye contact with you for longer than she ever has, “I’m starting to feel a bit left out! You never bring a coffee down for me. I have to watch this guy drink his coffee and there’s nothing for me.” Her giggle fills the room which is otherwise full of awkward energy.

“This guy,” she reaches her hand across the desk to touch Fox’s clenched fist, “always offers to go and get me one in the morning. Isn’t he a sweetheart?”. You swear you see the dark glint cross her eyes, you swear you see her eyebrow cock slightly and you swear; you see red.

“Actually, I just came to steal this sweetheart from you for 2 minutes. Fox- I need to speak to you outside” You chirp, trying to stop yourself from physically shaking from pure anger and adrenaline. Fox knows the smile plastered across your face is fake, he has to bite his cheek from the inside to stop himself outwardly laughing. He nods politely at Wilson as he walks over to you, just before you both leave her sight; you interlink his hand with yours.

“Kiss me”

Before he gets chance to speak, you push your lips against his and your tongue runs against his lower lip. He opens his mouth languidly as your noses bump against each other. Your hands slide down his back as his move up to your face to hold it. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, you feel hazy from the touch of his lips, the taste of his tongue, and the feel of his strong hands holding your hips. As he pulls away, you move to press tender kisses to his neck; he stifles a moan at the contact. 

“You better not be jealous of her”. You feel his nails begin to dig into your hips, “she’s nothing compared to you.” He brings his face close to yours, a quick peck to your lips, and smiles as he takes in your dazed eyes. He loves kissing you, it's as if you get drunk off the feeling of his lips and he always wants more.

“I’ll show you tonight, okay?” You nod as you listen to him, attempting to wipe your gloss off his lips with your fingers, “I think I need to remind you how much I love you.” He holds your hand as he presses your fingers to his lips, “I’ll spend all night proving it if I have to”.

[krissneedsleep]

Hanahaki part 2

(Soap- Purple, Simon- Red, Gary- Blue, Makarov- green, Price- Pink, Kyle- Orange)

"You kill him, I'll kill you." Soap told the man behind Price's back.

"Oh Ivanka. You are better than these humans." Makarov turns the safety off. "Come with me instead."

Soap hung the phone back. He went away from the window, got to the stairs and got out of the building, Gun pointed at Makarov's back.

"Price, take your gun out." Soap told him now near them both.

Makarov raises his hands and dropped his gun while Price took his out and grabs the fallen weapon. 

"Give up Makarov." Price pointed both guns at him. "Call off everything and surrender."

"Never." He smiles as a gunshot was heard.

All Price felt before hitting the ground was a sharp pain in his back. Johnny shot a bullet into Makarov's shoulder while the man moved away.

Makarov ran. Johnny went to Price not giving two fucks about his dad.

"Price. Price stay with me!" He said holding the wound closed and turned him to his side. "You're going to be fine."

"G-get Nik." Price told him before passing out.

"Medic and Evac! Now!" He ordered in his comms. "Capt'n Price got hit!"

Johnny knew that they had to leave the street and hide from others. He wrapped up the bloody wound as best he could, got Price on his back and started walking to the safehouse they got in the forest away from the town.

Nickolai heard the call and started the engine. He called upon a friend, who's a medic to his location with shit that can deal with a bullet wound. Once the friend got there he flew them both to the town.

Roach, Gaz, Ghost and Laswell weren't able to hear any as they're in a dead zone.

"All packed up." Gaz informed them. "She'll be fine. For now." He looks up at them.

"... She need to go to a hospital." Ghost spoke, cleaning his hands with bottles of water.

"Hand me one." Gaz stretches his blood stained hand. Ghost gave him two and Roach took 2 to clean up the mess.

They heard outside solders searching for them 4. They came closer to the door they blocked. "Sargent Roach, Agent Laswell. This is Agent Bishop."

Non of them replied.

"Ivanka and Price are at the safehouse. Nik went to pick them up. I got Rose Trisha with me." Agent Bishop informed them.

Ghost recognizes Rose's name as Johnny spoke a lot about them. So he spoke. "Which town they're from?"

"Trisha is from Moscow. So is Johnny." Bishop replied.

"... That's true." Ghost muttered. "Got medic on standby?" He asks the Agent.

"We do. Now open this door and let us help you." Miss Bishop tells them.

"Ghost! We can't trust them!" Gaz whispered. " They could be from them."

"Gaz. You said it yourself that Laswell need to go to the hospital." Ghost replied "we need her alive."

Roach stood up, he walks towards the door and takes stuff away from it.

"B-bisho- Bishop?" Kate tries to speak. "Sh-she'-s w-with u-us."Gaz lifts Kate's head.

"No. No don't speak take it easy." Gaz tells her, " the medics here soon." Ghost left to help Roach.

Bishop got in with the medics who rushed to Laswell and help her onto the gurney.

"Half of the base is damaged and some of them are still here." Bishop informs them. "One of you can go with Kate."

"I'll stay." Roach tells them. "I haven't been on a mission for a while."

"Guess I'll go with laws." Gaz walked away with Kate to the transport to the hospital.

Ghost took Roach to the helipad leaving the taking over the base back to Agent Bishop.

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Tunguska (4x08)

Rats are survivors. Natural born killers who do the work of destructors; by no means impervious, but they’ll attack the weak, anything that stands in their way. They adapt and survive.

Alex Krycek respects that. Maybe it’s why Mulder’s “insult” had felt like a compliment. 

Yeah, he’s learned to live like the rats. 

And yeah, Mulder. He’s had little trouble adapting. 

The relentless agent sits across from him now in this miserable cell, picking at the underside of his boot. Conversation doesn’t really work for them. They’ve been through enough shit together; you’d think he’s earned an iota of trust.

“So,” Alex ventures. “We gonna die here?”

Mulder glowers. “If we ever do get out, I’m gonna kill you myself, Krycek.”

Alex smirks. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Oh, no?”

“You’ve had a hundred opportunities. You haven’t taken any of them.”

Mulder’s eyes narrow. He says nothing. Spooky Mulder would never deny the truth.

They sit, the faint scratching of roaches and vermin echoing around the cell. Perhaps silence is preferable, but Alex can’t help himself. He wants the upper hand. He needs the upper hand. 

And he knows exactly how to get it.

“Whaddya think Scully’s up to?” he asks. Mulder’s eyes dart towards him, then away again. Here we go. As expected, Agent Scully is his trigger. Adapt, Alex. 

“Scully, Scully, Scully,” he purrs. “I remember when I met her. She could barely look at me. Like our partnership personally offended her.” He looks at Mulder, trying to make eye contact. “Most agents get a partner or two in their career. Maybe it works out, maybe it doesn’t. They move on. Not you two, though.”

His cellmate remains silent, but now wears  a searing glare. 

“We’re gonna die here anyway, Mulder, so you may as well confess. What’s she like, you know… in the sack? Carpet match the drapes?”

If looks could kill, Alex would be a dead man. He thrives off this, off making Mulder squirm. It’s just so fucking easy.

Sometimes he wonders how things would be if he’d just join forces with Mulder. He’s the obvious choice for an ally, morality-wise. But morality isn’t the medium with which Alex paints. He isn’t like Mulder. And anyway, there’s something he relishes more than his admiration of the man: the power Alex wields over him. 

Like right now.

Mulder clenches his jaw and looks away, unable to meet Alex’s eye. Once again, his honesty betrays him.

“Are you serious?” Alex’s eyes go wide. He was absolutely certain they were sleeping together. Talk about an X-File. “Shit. You two really had me fooled.”

His incredulity aside, this approach isn’t working. He needs to take a different route to get a rise out of Mulder. Something worse. 

“You know,” Alex says, lowering his voice. “Back when she was abducted, I suggested just… killing her.” Mulder bristles. “They underestimated your determination, but I never did. I warned them you’d never stop. They didn’t listen.”

A loud clang comes from somewhere in the gulag. A horrific scream. 

“Guess there’s still time,” Alex shrugs. “They don’t make the same mistake twice.”

That does it. Mulder lurches across the cell and wraps his hands around Alex’s neck for the second time today. There’s rage in his eyes, a primal savagery. And Alex likes it. He isn’t even sure why he does this, why he wants it. Maybe it’s the kind of thing he needs to feel alive. To feel like he isn't alone in the dark.

Like he does on occasion, he thinks of the missile silo. Mulder would probably like that story. But he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for talk. His arm is jammed beneath Alex’s chin, pinning him against the wall. He can feel his airway closing, but he knows it won’t last. Mulder will let him go. 

“Don’t ever say her name to me again,” Mulder seethes. For a wild moment it feels like they might kiss, and it’s not the first time he’s felt that way. There's an undeniable energy between them. Maybe it’s the knowledge there’s no one on the planet he hates more. Maybe Mulder’s passion is contagious. 

Maybe they’re both just animals.

As expected, Mulder lets him go with a ceaseless penetrating glare. Their little game is over for now; at least, until they play another one. 

They sit on opposite sides of the cell for hours until dinner is served. He and Mulder spit out the roach-infested soup in temporary camaraderie, but then a guard makes his way inside, and Alex takes his shot. He’s got one play left and he’s going to use it, no matter the cost.

The guard hesitates. Mulder asks for a translation, understandably concerned. Alex replies honestly: “That I want to see his supervisor.”

If he doesn’t want to see you, you’ll be accountable, the guard replies in Russian. He appears taken aback, unaccustomed to a prisoner's authoritative tone. 

I’ll be accountable, Alex insists. Mulder dumbly looks back and forth between them. 

The guard acquiesces, and opens the door. Freedom lies ahead if he can play this correctly, if he can just find one more dark pipeline to squeeze through. Maybe he’ll get out of this shithole alive after all. 

He’s brought before the head honcho and sings like a canary. The Americans are working on their own vaccine; he’s even got the name of the head doctor. He mentions an old comrade, Vasily Peskow. That gets their attention. 

Alex Krycek has been no stranger to loyalty. But as he betrays the country he genuinely loves, he realizes the truth: his loyalty is only to himself. 

As he’s escorted from the gulag, he’s taken past Mulder’s cell again. He peers inside where his adversary awaits whatever fate Alex’s defection has unleashed. There’s a slight twinge of regret inside him, but it quickly passes. 

He steps outside as the chilled air of Tunguska slaps him in the face. Beneath him, a rat scampers by, disappearing into the woodwork.

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own

@admiralty-xfd

[cookinary]

Hey guys, if you want some music

I've been putting together a playlist of what my AUs' themes would be

I'll be making a list under the cut of which song matches which AU (so don't check it out if you wanna figure it out for yourself!)

Da OG boi: Banana Man - Tally Hall

Android: Robot Rock - Daft Punk

Backrooms: H A L L S - CG5

Basically Villain: Gangsta's Paradise - Coolio

Beyblade: Beyblade Metal Fusion French opening

Brothers in Arms: Turn the Lights Off - Tally Hall

Cartoon: Duck Sauce - Barbra Streisand

Clone: I think I'm a clone now - Weird Al

Cyberpunk: Organic Self - Noisecream

Demon Banana: Demons - Imagine Dragons / Phoenix - ft.Cailin Russo and Chrissy Costanza

Dragon Pilot: Dragon Pilot Hisone to Masotan outro

Escaped Experiment: Monster - dodie

Explosive Personality: MINECRAFT CREEPER RAP - Dan Bull

Ghost: Ghost - Confetti

Godhunter: Godhunter - Aviators

Honey I shrunk the kid: So What - Three Days Grace

It's just a game: Losing My Mind - Mystery Skulls

Mad Guy Dead: MAD RAT HEART from the Mad Rat Dead OST

Mad Switch: Fuck You - Lily Allen

Magic: Dementia - Owl City ft. Mark Hoppus / ROACHES - Luluyam (I picked these songs because Mage is psychotic because of everything he went through)

Mountains: Les bronzés font du ski

Murder Drones: Disassembly Required - Liam Vickers

Mutant: Captive Normal from the Hi-Fi Rush OST (PLEASE CHECK THIS GAME OUT) / I'm My Own Master Now (Platinum Mix) from the Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance OST

Nyankees: meow - lvusm

Pacific Rim: Pacific Rim main theme

Phoenix: Phoenix - Netrum & Halvorsen

Pokemon: The Journey Starts Today - Walk off the Earth

Portal: Who I am - CG5

Post-Apocalypse: Survive - SOARA / Wasteland Outlaw - MAJESTY

Radioactive: Radioactive - Imagine Dragons

Reaper: The Man Comes Around - Johnny Cash

Sailing Seas: The Seven Seas - F-777

Sea Monster: Ocean Man - Ween

Simulation Collapsing: ECHO [Cover] - Alfakyun

Space: Starman - David Bowie

Spare: I Can't Decide - Scissors Sisters

Supers: Speed of Light - Joe Satriani

Swap: Sweet About Me - Gabrielle Cilmi

Tanuki: Heisei era Tanuki War (Spirited Season) from the Pompoko OST

Therianthropy: Wild Slide - Jules Gaia / T-Rex - K.Flay

Time Agent: This Time - PXL

Time God: Temporal Tower from the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Explorers of Sky OST

Time Loop: Stuck in a Timeloop - Animadrop

Totally Spies: Here We Go - Totally Spies season 1 opening

Turning Red: Pandas Unite/Nobody Like U from the Turning Red OST

Unaware Eldritch God: God - Jake Daniels

Untitled Friend Game: Goose Goose Revolution - TheLivingTombstone

Werewolf: Animal In Me - Solence

Witch Vampire: Happy Halloween Rap ver. - nqrse

Zombie: Macabre Rotting Girl - Kathy-Chan / Stay Alive - FFM ft. Felix Bushe / INFECTED - STARSET

Junkyard King: Junkyard King - Navie D

Rookie Mistake (AU where my sona is present): Idontgivea***k - Rabbit Junk

And EMPIRES by Electric Swing Circus isn't for an AU but I thought it was a good fit for vanilla Ophelia

[wtfgaylittlezooid]

AAAAAAAAAH I absolutely loved your Bug!Vicagent tidbit!!!

... did Vic hear Agent, in the end?? Bc it would be so cute yet angsty if Vic did hear him and that his voice and promise was something that helped Vic

But that's just me musing lol

TYY!!!! I think about this little plot way too fucking much

Vic also doesn’t because at that point he’s completely gone. Only thing left was fungus instinct. He does know how much Agent cares though, since throughout that battle his sense of self does slip in a few times, though he only takes advantage of that to order Agent to just kill him at that point. Agent ain’t doing that tho because he needs Victim. That’s why Agent apologizes for not following Victims orders lol

Fun fact about zombie Victim: very good way to gauge how much time he has left is by listening to what he’s saying. He does NOT shut up once he is constantly talking during the entire fight, usually just mumbling/droning to himself without though. If he’s talking about magic or getting you to leave that’s the instinct talking. If he’s talking about control or whatever vic tends to talk about, then it’s still pulling snippets from his memories which means he’s there just buried. and if it’s nothing but gibberish aka the roach language for a prolonged amount of time then he’s gone 👍

[slifarianhawk]

Chapter 26: make it easy on yourself

As Albert, Excella, and I drank, I rang the boys back in through the comm link.

When they walked into the room, I offered them a drink to which Nighthawk and Steve took the offer up. I had Archer put away the Disaronno and Osmanthus wine as the festivities were winding down.

"Now that you are a part of tricell, there is something that needs to be done, my dear lotus." Wesker said, stroking my cheek,"a gift if you would believe it or not."

"Yes, the main reason I went to Russia was to extract two people. A Dr. Cordell and his lovely wife, the main doctor in the creation of the Angelis virus project, which you are so versed in." Excella said, taking a sip of her brandy.

My eyes flared their signature, icy blue. My blood started to boil, memories flooding to the surface. My body slowly started to tremble in rage. I dropped my glass and watched it shatter.

A massive growl was unleashed from my throat,"CORDELL!"

(FLASHBACK)

{Trigger warning torture mentions of non con}

/October 28,1998/

Cold, my knees and feet were freezing on the cement floor. Seven needles stuck in my back. My arms chained down pinned to my side. The cold steel dug deep into my wrist, causing deep gashes and scarring cuts. My body naked in a hunched over position translucent white fluid dripping from my back side. Tears stained my cheeks.

CRACK! A bull whip rung out slicing open the flesh between the first row of syringes. Searing pain was all I felt as the wound hastily repaired itself.

"Her will is undeniably strong, colonel Sergei. But it seems the Angelis virus has also made her at least much more easily fixable. Just admire how fast she heals." Dr. Cordell said, walking in front of me as my eyes glowed a cold shade of blue,"tell me, was she truly wasted on scum like that damnable traitor, Wesker?".

I growled and started to transform into the equinoxal mutation. They brought up him. Here, why!?! just to rub salt in the wound of being stuck here. My dead husband is coming back to haunt me again.

ZAP

Scorching pain seared through me. A cattle prod was pulled away from my side. The pain was a reset to my body, causing the transformation process to halt. The ringing in my ears started to amplify.

When I get out of these damn chains, Sergei will pay. He already had taken my support system, and now he's rubbing a wound with salt. I was going to make him pay dearly for this.

"Yes, I do wish I got to my niece first before that stupid roach did, but lord Spencer has his plans for her. As his most loyal follower, I'll obey his every command." Sergei said, taking a scalpel and carving his name into my back, "doesn't mean I can't have fun with her. I already tainted her lovely back side. Now I'm going to work on that pretty little mouth of hers. Slowly, I'll mold her into the perfect toy and soldier for me and Spencer. When the time comes, she'll be able to eradicate our infestation." A dark laugh echoed out of Vladimirs throat.

"HE IS ALREADY DEAD AND GONE HIC JUST KILL ME YOU HEARTLESS BASTARD." I screamed at the thought of Sergei shoving his disgusting penis in my face. It made me feel sick to my stomach.

"She doesn't know, does she colonel?" Dr. Cordell asked.

"Know what, Sergei? What are you not telling me?" I growled out, my nails slowly growing and turning black.

"Red queen." Sergei said, turning to face the wall.

"Yes, Colonel?" A red hologram of a beautiful woman appeared.

"Show our dear agent seven forty-eight the final moments of the mansion lab and front entryway." Sergei said as a screen lowered into view.

Cctv footage played of the Arkley lab on the night of July twenty fourth.

"You'll regret this, my lady, of that I promise." His eyes left a trail like mine except his glowed a brilliant red.

It showed him plowing through B.O.W.S. and even trapping Lisa Trevor. The best and worst part was that he was alive and had survived. He hadn't come to me. He didn't even come home or contact me.

"He.....he...... he abandoned me.....why?" I was there. I came back to Raccoon City to find him. Spencer was right he had survived and chose not to come for me.

Doctor Cordell laughed along with Sergei as my heart crumbled away into nothingness. The ringing in my ears was now a deafening roar. My face grew a sheet of black glass like silica, creating a mask that hid my tears. My choking sobs started to sound like blood curdling growls. My canines were now black and four inches long over my bottom lip. Six massive bloody batlike wings ripped from my back, throwing all but one syringe into the walls. Black silica bracers grew from under my skin, breaking their way through my wrists. I flicked the wings, and the chains corroded away. Cracks formed in the cement floor.

I was truly alone. My family thinks I'm a monster. My friends are dead. Sergei rapes me during the night. Worst of all, my husband abandoned me. The only things that keep me alive are my kids. However, Vladimir has my daughter here, and the other has been tagged for capture. My life has been made mute.

Darkness clouded my vision. The ringing was blaring in my head. Make it stop. Make it stop, please. The pain that radiates from my heart was driving me mad. Then, all of sudden, the ringing stopped. I feel cold and cramped.

《Entering 3rd person POV》

"What is happening, Cordell?" Sergei asked the now terrified doctor.

"This is the arch angel form, sir. Most of the research has been non-existent, and this form was just a theory. What happened if the equinoxal mental state was pushed to the limit and broke. She broke sir congratulations are due, but not at this time we should run." The doctor said, terrified backing away.

"Vladmir Sergei! Prepare to be sentenced to Hell!" A raspy roar ripped from Tabitha's deformed mouth.

"I don't think so, my dear fragile flower. I still have plans for you. Cordell, hand me the viral stabilizer you were bragging about." Sergei said with his hand extended.

She raced over to Sergei and swung her five inch long black talons. Her claws were as sharp as a lickers' talons they left a massive gash in Sergeis's side. She tried to retreat back, but Cordell handed Vladimir a syringe, and Sergei had injected it into Tabitha's neck.

Tabithas body started to flame up, and silica surrounded her body. It encased her in a black obsidian like cocoon. When it shattered, Tabitha's body had returned to normal splayed across the floor, and the mutations remained as obsidian statuary.

《Tabithas pov》

"You belong to me now agent seven forty-eight. If you try to harm me again, I'll kill little Miss Alistar and bring that bastard son of yours here. Do you understand, my sweet anemone." Sergei laughed, pulling my body up by my matted bloody hair,"Yes, anemone the flower of fragility. That's what you are not the filthy lotus of rebirth but a lowly buttercup of fragility. You are as fragile as obsidian and just as sharp. The weapon I need will be you seven forty-eight. Make this easy on yourself, my dear, and accept that you now belong to me."

"Yes, sir." I hung my head lost in a tidal wave of depression and reluctance.

(END OF FLASHBACK)

"Commander?!?" Nighthawk screamed.

Huh? What is going on? I can't move

"Everyone get back she's going Arch-angel!" Archer shouted.

The door opened, and I heard footsteps dashing out. It was time. I opened my eyes.

SHATTER!

I broke out of the silica that was starting to encase my body. I won't let that bastard Sergei control my life now that I was free. I'd choose when i go Arch-angel.

Albert was beside me, holding my shoulder. His sunglasses were off as he stared at my now sweat drenched face. He wore a concerned look.

"Tabitha, my dear lotus," He placed his hand on my face, his thumb stroking my cheek,"What did you see? What did you see in that flashback? I know PTSD when I see it. I've seen it in plenty of my men now tell me what you saw my love."

"Sergei and Cordell, when I found out you survived the mansion incident. They both watched me turn into the Arch-angel form. Sergei was becoming my handler, and all cordell did was laugh. Now it's time to return the favor to Dr. Cordell." I clicked on my comm link, "Archer, bring my scalpels, syringes, and pliers to the containment room. Have the prisoners transferred there."

I stood up, placing my corrective shades on, "Nighthawk, please escort me and Wesker to the lab. I need to make several doses of the angelis viral stabilizer and a special treat for Dr. Cordells wife."

"Yes, mam, please follow me." Night hawk bowed, revealing his massive hawk like wings.

"Project a.c.r.o.h? You certainly have quiet the mangarie of interesting people under you, my dear lotus." Albert said, admiring Nighthawk and his wings.

" Even so, we all gladly serve our Pheonix." Nighthawk said, leading Albert and I down the hall to my lab.

Once we arrived at the lab, I threw on my lab coat and sped to my workstation. Quickly, I prepared seven vials of my blood and synthesized three doses of max strength viral stabilizer. Albert stood in the corner as I worked. He seemed deep in thought.

When I dropped to the floor, he walked over and pulled me into a warm gentle embrace, "My dearheart, please be careful. I don't know a lot about the angelis virus, but I can tell that what happened has really drained you. Please, my lotus, make this easy on yourself and rest. Come, I have something to show you. He took my hand and led me out of the vehicle bay.

We walked along the trail of the apple orchard to Alistar's sanctuary. When we got there, I was shocked by the state of things. The statuary was put back together, surrounded by pink carnations. Albert sat at the bench he held me on last night and pointed at the angel statue that had a blue tarp in front of it.

"Go ahead, my lotus lift it. It's not much but something I could do to help you mourn better. I worked ever since you fell asleep, and Excella landed last night." He said as I turned to to fave the tarp.

With a quick grasp, I pulled the cover away and gasped. Tears were now forming in my eyes as I fell to my knees. There was fresh sod and a new headstone in front of Alistar's statue.

It read," Laid to rest, here is Alistar Lancaster. Daughter of Tabitha and Albert Wesker. May she wander the stars infinitely. 1982-2003"

Albert stepped up behind and crouched beside me. He draped his right arm over my shoulder. A relaxed smile was on his face for once. It was stunning.

"I know, I was not there for you or her either when she was born or when she died. However, I know that she wanted this. We are a family again, and once uroboros is complete, no one will harm us again." He said, looking at me, removing his sunglasses.

With a simple motion, I turned and kissed him, "Carry me back to base so I can rest. That way, i can make Cordell pay for all he did to me and Alistar. He will feel the pain that she felt and all the pain he caused me as well."

Albert quickly lifted me up and took me in his arms, heading back to base,"Anything you wish, my dear lotus."

[sumpix]

The secret lives of New York’s doormen

They know your secrets — for good or ill

The first test was the audacious cockroach that sidled into our apartment about three days after we moved in.

Hardly enough of a native Manhattanite to calmly swat it and flush it and go on eating my pizza, I pollyannaish-ly sprinted downstairs instead. “Excuse me,” I breathlessly announced to the crossword-solving bald guy manning the front desk — I hadn’t even had the courtesy of introducing myself to him yet. “There’s a cockroach in my living room.”

Visibly unimpressed but with an air of professional politeness that almost hid what he actually wanted to say (“suck it up, princess”), he looked up at me sympathetically: “The exterminator comes Tuesdays.” It was Friday. In the five seconds that followed, my desperation thickened the silent air between us until he buckled: “OK, OK, OK, OK, OK. I’ll be right up.” He was and minutes later the roach was history.

In years to come, when I eventually move away from New York, I will remember many charmingly unique — and not charming but very unique — things about this vibrant, pungent, unapologetic, ragbag of a city.

High up on that eclectic list, though, will likely be the weird and wonderful kings of discretion who are privy to your secrets — your sordid affairs, habits and addictions — but about whom you know absolutely nothing; creatures who are as enigmatic as secret service agents, as polymathic as Swiss army knives, but as unassuming as the dude next door whose name could literally be anything. The heroes of the free world, the invisible cogs that keep the wheel spinning: New York City’s doormen.

Doormen in the Big Apple have a deep and storied past. By some accounts, they’ve patrolled apartment buildings for more than a century and a half. Nobody seems to have an exact count, but estimates put the number of union doormen across the five boroughs at over 25,000, spread across more than 3,000 apartment buildings.

They’re everywhere. And yet, it’s rare that anyone actually ever stops to consider who they are, and the real value — beyond opening doors and handing out Amazon hauls and takeout — they actually offer. Bulldozing the social etiquette that suggests it might be inappropriate to ask someone you don’t know a personal question, I quizzed one of the doormen in the large apartment building where I live why he chose this profession. His response? The money — unionized doormen make about $60,000 a year — and the job stability. Before becoming a doorman he was an aerial gymnast. “It was fun for a while,” he explained a little wistfully. “I sometimes miss the glitter.” When I asked several dozen of my friends and acquaintances across the city to share stories about their doormen, a few recurring themes emerged. If you’re a man dating women in New York, don’t worry too much about an overprotective male friend, or brother, or father: consider the doormen to be the real gatekeepers you need in your corner. Someone told me that her doorman had physically stopped several unwanted visits from a potential suitor. Others shared how their doormen had valiantly lied about them not being at home, or being sick, to make a caller go away. One woman told me she’s made an agreement with her doorman under which he judges any male visitors she brings home and then shares his impressions and assessments with her. “He has a high bar,” she said. “Most of them he’s deemed not worthy.” Cockroaches come in all shapes and sizes, I suppose.

Whatever services and value doormen offer, it’s unequivocally a good idea to be very nice to them. They have the unique ability to make you very comfortable or very uncomfortable, and if you make an enemy of your doorman there’s a good chance that you’ll be stuck with him or her (though it’s usually a him) for your entire tenancy. Many doormen have worked in the same building for decades. Rarely are doorman jobs advertised. According to my unscientific research, the best way to get a doorman job is to know someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone. And then you have to be a bit lucky too.

Indeed, earlier this year a doorman named Manny Teixeira retired from a job that made him New York City’s longest-tenured doorman. He’d worked at his building on the swanky Upper East Side since 1961, according to local news. And tenants in that building certainly took my advice about being kind to your doorman to heart. One of them allegedly bequeathed a dog to Manny in his will. Her name was Lucy.

A very basic rule, I’m learning, is to greet them, know their names and pay them a holiday bonus. Occasionally, offer to bring them something back from a coffee run. If you’ve got extra-special needs — vermin that need destroying, stalkers that need repelling, regular late-night ice cream deliveries that you’d prefer to be notified about before they resemble a melted, milky mess — then throw in a baked good for good measure.

Doormen will always judge you. As someone who’s tasked with dealing with human beings all day and all night — the good, the bad and the sloppily inebriated who lose their keys every Saturday night — that’s absolutely their prerogative. But at least if they like you, and if you show them the respect they deserve, they might have the dignity to pretend they’re not judging you. Even misguided ignorance is bliss.

This article was originally published in The Spectator’s November 2023 World edition. 

[silverspleen]

@your-royal-highness-of-trash

Pulled out into TWO new posts b/c I cannot be subjecting my friends to one longpost but rather many smaller posts with the majestic read more tool. I hope this is cool.

(Context. My reply to This.)

THE FUN HALF lets ramble about character stuff yes pleaaaase they really did nail the characterization they did do that I hate how good of a job they did.

First it is so funny that you already know Bad Suns! I was literally introduced to them this summer by one of my D&D buddies on one of our driving days where we just hang out in the car listening to music loudly with the windows down and I was just, blown away by their sound. And then like a week later went. "Wait.... This is a blorbo song. This is an Alex pov Faralex song. This is him being filled with emotions oh my god"

Glad you are also just "eh" on Ghoap. Like. I've read some great Ghoap fics but like. Perhaps it's the hipster in me. I get the dynamic allure, I get the chemistry, I get that it's hot but I am just not insane for them like the majority of the fandom. Because I already have Faralex. And og Ghost Roach but WHATEVER.

I have posted about the Alex disability thing before already so I 100% hard agree. When I actually looked up the timeline for a prosthetic, just like, as a cursory google for the most vague of fic writing stuff, I was immediately like. OH THEY DID NO RESEARCH HUH. He would have still been in PT by the time they brought him into Warzone he would not be ready for it, but like. Yeah he's so? He's nice? He's a nice man and very friendly but he's also not a good man (we forget that these are not the same) and also sort of hyper focused on Farah and sometimes I think that it's easy to backseat his angst when Farah's right there for him to sort of focus on instead of his problems? He was a marine and a CIA agent and I'm sure he has some like very intense ingrained stuff about technically being actually genuinely disabled with likely chronic pain now and it probably isn't great! I love a healthy dynamic but I will not lie and pretend I'm not into a little bit into how his thing for her can 100% be a little unhealthy. I like a little smidge of the spice with that devotion dynamic. As you said, being mentally ill together. I like that she is in a position where she needs someone who is like, a little obsessed with her in a way that's Not Normal, and he is in a position where being Not Normal about someone probably gets him through some rough days but also watch out! Don't let that consume you!

I feel like he probably gets the prosthetic from Price (and Laswell later), but like. Surely it gets broken because, as you said, he is running around in the desert for hours at a time on combat missions. Farah gets her little care package of goods from Price and Alex just gets leg parts it's constantly leg parts every shipment there's a leg part in there you can tell he's been somewhere because we just have ruined liners everywhere and you can tell when stuff is really bad because there's just. A leg. Abandoned in some building somewhere and smashed half to shit.

Out of Alex I want 1) more disability stuff because yes. Like he has to use crutches a lot, right? Surely he does. How easy is it to shoot a gun in crutches I have to know! I want like "ah ha we have attacked the ULF off guard surely now we will be at an advanta-" *thudding sound of angry CIA deserter in crutches with a gun and still very capable of being dangerous* 2) We are so cagey about the whole "he is now a terrorist" CIA deserter thing. Does he have family at home? He died so like. Did his mom or dad get a flag? Do you get a flag when you desert? Surely they knew he was into some Incredibly Black Ops stuff so like when he vanishes off the face of the earth it was normal up until they get a letter like "lol sorry he's dead." (But he's not dead, you'll just never see the top secret blurry photos of him in the desert doing a terrorism, which was not all that different than what he was doing before he just enjoys it more now.) How many skeletons are in that closet boooy.

You should totally make a bookmark collection!! I know I value the heck out of people who do fic reviews and collections and stuff. Nothing like seeing that someone else is really enjoying a ship dynamic and collecting stuff that's their taste.

"Different Relationship" yes they are in love your honor. He would never intentionally mispronounce his beloved wife's name, he's just a stupid American and gets it 50% correct but he tries. I have never seen this video. Thank you so much for linking it.

-

Ugh thinking in my brain again about like, do you think he would have ever brought Farah to PT? Like he's going to PT for his leg under some assumed name somewhere and has told the therapists some sort of half truth sob story about his life that is 80% CIA lies and 20% actual dynamics from his life so they are aware of Farah in a "I need to get better because there is someone in my life I need to get back to" way. And then he slowly phases out as he recovers and later he actually brings The Someone to one of his checkup appointments and it's this tiny middle eastern woman that he has really intense energy with where they are clearly having entire conversations just by staring at each other. Between his military tattoos and how she gets this edge to her every time there's a weird noise outside it's slowly becoming obvious that they are both military somehow but everything goes well until there's a global news update about Urzikstan and they both get really weird and quiet until Alex is like "hey lets change the channel now :)" and Farah says something in Arabic and he replies and they have some sort of laugh about it and it's like, uh oh these people! These people are somehow connected to global events in some nebulous way that you're not sure you should be thinking about!

Anyway shout out to the government guy who brought his concealed carry into the clinic! I don't think that was necessary! I looked it up and it was probably legal since we didn't have a sign at that point but why did you do that knowing full well you would have to take off your shirt for the scan and I would have to be uncomfortably near it the whole time! I will complain about this whenever I can! It was weird!

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

The Imperfects

From the start, I knew the show would be canceled after his first season.

It was nice, but that's it.

It's like Teen Wolf meet mad scientists.

The characters were great.

It really liked the duo Dr. Burke and Dr. Sarkov.

But it wasn't as entertaining as others series.

Why they needed a cure when the pills worked so well?!! So many others thinks didn't make sense either.

ps: What was so urgent with Darcy's phone call?

Some quotes:

"- You know lying is a form of selfishness? (Juan) - And judgment is a form of control." (Tilda - Episode 4)

"- Why are people so obsessed with the idea of becoming a superhero? (Episode 4)

"- No, the science is that complicated. It's the curse of being a prodigy. I'll always understand the world in a way regular people could never comprehend." (Dr. Sarkov - Episode 5)

"- Pro-tip. If you speak less, you will learn more." (Dr. Sarkov - Episode 5)

"- Yeah, pro-tip. Speak less, live more." (Juan - Episode 5)

"- How do you feel? (Dr. Sarkov) - How do I feel? My girlfriend just dumped me by scientist. (Juan) - Oh, no, I mean physically. Yeah, I don't care, emotionally speaking." (Dr. Sarkov - Episode 7)

"- How about I know what it's like to lose someone you love?" (Episode 7)

"- Hate will eat you up inside, but you've gotta find a way to forgive." (Juan - Episode 7)

"- Because I wanted to give you my condolences. (Dr. Sarkov) - Sure you do. (Tilda) - I'm being sincere... Do I sound naturally sarcastic?" (Dr. Sarkov - Episode 7)

"- I don't want to. Immortality? Ugh, imagine. Never get anything done, because "There's always tomorrow." (Dr. Sarkov - Episode 7)

"- Our DNA doesn't make us monsters, our actions do." (Juan - Episode 7)

"- If you're gonna assist me, get one thing straight. This is not a democracy. You do what I say, when I say it. And if you don't like it, feel free to skedaddle." (Dr. Sarkov - Episode 8)

"- According to the clerk, someone matching Sarkov's description and level of jerkiness stopped here about an hour ago." (Abbi - Episode 8)

"- He was flirting with you. (Dr. Burke) - Of course he was. It's time for the tipe. (Dr. Sarkov) - Maybe he just thinks you're cute." (Dr. Burke - Episode 9)

"- Never underestimate a roach, agent. When everything else on this planet is dead, the roach is the one left." (Dr. Cain - Episode 9)

"- I'm Alex Sarkov. I'm a selfish, self-centered, narcissistic jerk." (Episode 9)

"- Dr. Hallenbeck said feelings are a waste of energy." (Dr. Sarkov) - I mean, you must feel something. Anything? (Dr. Burke) - Nothing. Maybe a simmering resentment for their selfishness. (Dr. Sarkov - Episode 9)

"- Careful, you'll chafe your hands. (Dr. Sarkov) - Now you develop a sense of empathy." (Dr. Burke - Episode 10)

"- Well, how was I supposed to know the Helix Institute is a shell company? When someone offers you money, do you ask where it's from? Or how much you can have?" (Dr. Sarkov - Episode 10)