#the british sniper guy

[syppys-den]

NGL, if there really are two of each kind of merc I wouldn't mind if these guys were the other side of the coin though not necessarily that these guys are just the Blu team and the classic mercs are the red team, I feel like that kind of thing is a little lazy

I've never shared these. These are my alternate designs for the mercs i made months ago and only showed a few friends.

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny as a Historical Badass

So, I'm sure you have all heard at least one story about those Badasses in History, the ones who are basically Legends at this point, right?

Like Simo Hayha, the White Death. The legendary Finish Sniper who managed to get 505 Confirmed Kills in less than 100 days, and an additional 200 kills with a Sub Machine Gun.

Or Mad Jack Churchill, the Craziest Commando. The guy who went to War with a Bow and a Broadsword, inflicting the last Archery Fatality in British Military History. He and his single partner also managed to raid a Village and capture 44 unsuspecting Soliders.

I want Danny to be seen in history in the same way they were.

If we go with the AU where the events of the Show happened in the Early 1900's, Danny would reach Eligibility just in time for both World Wars.

I want one of the Batfamily Members to run across a Video online of "Roman Helmet Guy" on Tiktok talking about Danny with that Badass Music in the Background.

Like, Danny is known as the Insane Solider of WW1/WW2. The guy who somehow managed to capture entire Platoons singlehandedly. The Guy who raided Enemy Camps in the Dead of night and managed to capture High Ranking Commanders on his own. The Guy that survives life threatening wounds like it's nothing MULTIPLE TIMES, and is somwhow back on the battlefield within the hour.

Some people speculate that he was an early Metahuman, but nobody can confirm because he hasn't been seen in decades. Some people.think he must be dead by now.

And then the Batfam member does a double take because, That's Old Man Danny.

Thats the old guy who runs their favorite Cafe. He must be well over 100 years old by now, but he looks like he's in his early 70's.

And doesn't Alfred frequent that Cafe?

Yes, he does. Alfred and Danny are old War Buddies.

Idk where this is going, I feel braindead right now.

I just wanted Danny to be seen as a Historical Legend because I was binging 'Roman Helmet Guy's videos and thought of this.

Wait, wasn't Diana in WW1? Like, in the movie at least she fought in WW1, so what if she met Danny during that time? What if she wasn't the only one to rush into No-Mans Land during that action scene in the Movie?

Diana shows up in Gotham and just says, "Oh no need to worry, I'm just visiting an old Friend."

Also, I recommend watching videos on Simo Hayha, he is such a badass.

[miss-dollette]

TW: Rant. DLDR.

A/N: I think TikTok has genuinely ruined the new fandoms. It has never been this bad before. Yes, there was cringe before, but this is BAD. Like, omg.

Opens phone and clicks Tumblr. Checks Simon Ghost Riley x Reader tag. What I see:

“Ugh Daddy”

His middle aged mandick entered my fresh, hairless, virgin, 18 year old pussy 🥺

“Im Sargent Athena, I’m a medic/sniper and I’m the youngest SAS member in history. Also, I’m American in the English military.”

Downright pedophilic fantasy.

Incorrect use of English slang. He’s British, but he wasn’t born in the 1920s guys.

Wears Ghost mask in public, even though the whole thing about the mask is for the enemies not to know his real face so he can be in peace in public.

You can see who watched Lolita and fetishized it from how they write their fics. If you see click on someone profile and they have bows in their profile pic, overuse this emoticon “:(“, just click off, babe.

Out of character. He doesn’t even act human in some of these.

“Meaty” “gummy” “baby girl” “good girl”

Make him an abusive creep. Also, super misogynistic, for some reason. Not even the kind that makes sense.

“He entered her womb and came”

[thedeathdoctor]

Safe House of Horrors

Pairing: Symbiote Ghost x Eldritch Horror König x AFAB! Reader

Summary:

Warnings: smut -> monsterfucking, mind reading, tentacles, anal, voyeurism, masturbation

A/N: I hope this doesn't get too confusing, but I'll be using Ghost in bold like this to refer to the symbiote. If the word is unbolded it refers to Simon Riley himself.

based on this post by @tacticalanklebiter3000 and this post by @devilanon

Ghost scanned the new additions from KorTac as they chatted in the mess hall. His eyes settled on the big one in the sniper hood and the small one sitting opposite.

König, they called the large man. "King. Who names themself -King-?" Gaz had whispered to him earlier. You, the tiny one, carried the name Medusa, and was rarely seen away from his side. They were partners, but Simon couldn't help his thoughts of them together. Displays of affection between them weren't kept with the strictest of secrecy, and he couldn't help the mix of jealousy and desire that bubbled up in his chest at the sight. He hadn't realized how long he had been comfortable in his role as the biggest guy in 141, but König was bigger still - how did you manage to take him?

At times, the sounds of you and König in the midst of passionate lovemaking drifted through mercilessly thin walls and into Simon's quarters. All too often, your lewd vocalizations were punctuated by the undeniable rhythmic slap of his hips on your ass and the creaking protests of the cot underneath. Simon would let his eyes close and take himself in hand, imagining himself delivering punishing backshots, hands wrapped around your squishy waist as he fucked delicious moans out of you.

"You're thinking about them again, aren't you, Simon?"

The voice, an oily purr, snaked forward from the depths of his mind.

"Not you agai-"

"Not you thinking about him splitting her open again, Simon. Pretending you aren't thinking about how tight her little pussy is before he works her open enough to take his cock so nicely. You're pathetic, you know?"

Simon set his jaw and fixed his eyes directly on the tray in front of him.

"Look at you, pretending to be the ever stoic Lieutenant when both you and I know about how you really feel about them. The way you think of them as you rut into your pitiful hand at night, wishing that it was her touch you felt instead."

It hisses the words with such vitriol that has Simon replacing the mask over his face, cheeks burning with humiliation. He picks up his tray from the table, placing it in the proper receptacle, and leaving the canteen without a second glance towards the recruits.

Embroiled in silent back and forth with the voice, he did not notice the pair of eyes that followed him until he disappeared past the doorway.

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

Despite the depths of Simon Riley's depraved imagination, he'd never once wondered about what lay beneath the dark veil of the operator known as König.

But you knew.

Oh, God, you knew.

König had you spread out on his bed, lazily pulsing a tentacle in and out of your ass when he brought up an Idea.

"Liebling, what do you think of the one they call Ghost?"

"Ghost?" You cocked your head quizzically.

"The Brit who wears the skull mask. Lieutenant. Don't play coy with me, Schatz, he's talked to you once or twice."

Of course you knew who he was referring to. The other massive beast of a man on base. Delicious, gravelly British accent and intense eyes behind his mask. The strong, silent type who observed from afar and noticed every detail. Massive thighs with vascular forearms to match.

König, of course, already knew many of your shameless thoughts about the man when he'd probed your mind on more than one occasion. You had a type. He just wanted you to admit it out loud and see you so beautifully flustered.

"Yeah, but not many times. He doesn't really talk to anyone, to be honest. Not much to say about him."

"So you haven't been thinking about how ride-able his thighs look in his drop leg bag harness or the feeling of your neck in the crook of his arm as he fucks you deep into a chokehold, mein Hase?"

As he'd predicted, your face flushed as you attempted to deny the fantasies he'd pulled from your very thoughts.

"So...maybe...I've thought about him a little...! What about it, König?"

"He's an interesting one... Tell me, how would you like it if he were to join us in the bedroom... just as an idea..."

"You think he's the kind that wants to watch...?"

"Is that all you'd really want him to do? Just watch?"

"I mean... I wouldn't mind more... if that's what he wants..."

"But what do you want, Schatz?"

"You know what I want, Koni..."

A second tentacle slithered up your thighs and began rubbing circles around your clit.

"I want to hear you say it out loud to me. What do you want from both Ghost and I?"

Your breath hitched as heat began to pool in your core.

"I want Ghost and you to fuck me... wanna be shared... and ruined..." you whispered.

"Good girl."

König gave you a hum of approval and began to pulse the tentacle in your ass against your sweet spot, rewarding you for the response. He admired the way your slick dripped from your neglected pussy, adding more lubrication to the tight ring of muscle around him.

"Now, come for me. I want to hear how good I make you feel, Liebling."

Letting your eyes close, you imagined the pleasure coming from Ghost this time. König hardly needed to probe your mind to know this for himself.

On the other side of the wall, your moans grew more audible to the man stroking his cock. As he listened to your whines, he thought of how he'd love to eclipse your tiny body just like König, massive hands wrapping around your wrists and pinning you to the bed as he ruts deep into you. He wanted to earn every one of those delicious moans for himself, feeling you writhe with pleasure under him.

His motions intensified with your moans, seeking to release the moment you did, yearning to feel the same pleasure as you. Right as he felt himself on the precipice, he heard you whimper out a word he hadn't expected.

"G-Ghost!"

It sent him over the edge immediately, sinking to his knees and desperately trying to stifle his full-bodied groan. Trembling hands attempted to cup the tip of his penis as he struggled to keep each spurt of cum from making a mess of his quarters. Hot, milky fluid leaked between his fingers and dripped from his knuckles as he lunged for something to clean himself off with. The shirt from his earlier workout would have to do, and as he began to wipe himself down, a familiar voice spoke up to him.

"God, you're pathetic Simon."

[minoment]

I saw your Older! Reader and raise you this: Reader that is the youngest. Gen Z little shit who's everyone's little sibling.

(My explanation for how someone so young got on is just that they're a genius. Maybe a tech wiz or engineer or naturally talented sniper idk)

Absolutely oml-

FIRST OFF.. You and Gaz, instantly platonic soulmates..

You're like 18/19 and just enrolled, but because of your skill Price put you in 141.

You and Gaz are complete trouble-makers. Prank wars, running around, yelling at 3am, you name it. Neither of you can cook for shit either. Both of you make fun of Soap and Ghost. You guys both know the Gen-Z slang and constantly make 'your mom' jokes.

Speaking of which, you have NO FEAR. Like, none. You will outright mock Soap's accent and do that annoying little copying/echo thing until Soap has to walk away and take deep breaths. You've probably asked him to have a bath with you and then ask "why not, you're Soap aren't you?" when he refuses. It was the first time anyone had heard Ghost laugh.

You probably call Ghost 'babygirl' and make fun of him for being British (even if you are British yourself).

You make fun of Soap and Alejandro for not being 6'+ but then ask them to teach you curses and swear words in Spanish and Gaelic.

Laswell LOVES you. Like she automatically becomes your mom. You keep 141 on their toes and she loves that.

Price is like your uncle. You can straight up bully him and he will find it absolutely endearing. You make fun of his moustache a lot, I don't make the rules.

Rudy and Roach get very overwhelmed by you, but they love you to the ends of the earth like the perfect older brother figures they are. They probably are the ones who check in with you three times a day and check if you've eaten and drunk enough water.

Hahahaah.. König... he is terrified of you. You never call him by his name. It's always "tree", "beanpole", "massive bratwurst", or "heffalump" (from Winnie the Pooh). He doesn't know what a heffalump is but it scares him. You're also constantly asking him why he's so tall and asking if you can sit on his shoulders when you're practicing your sniper shots.

That conversation usually goes like this:

Y/N: "Oi heffalump.. sit for a minute while I get up.."

König: "E-eh?! What are you doing?"

Y/N: "I need some height to be able to see Soap's silly little mohawk across the training ground. SIT STILL!"

Soap: across the coms "MY MOHAWK IS BEAUTIFUL.."

Ghost: "Johnny shut the fuck up they can see you.."

Y/N: shoots airsoft bullet and hits Soaps target

Everyone: ...

Y/N: "YES! KISS MY ASS... Thanks bratwurst.." gets off of König's shoulders

Gaz and Price: on the floor, laughing

Ghost: pissed

Soap: insulted

König: absolutely baffled

Y/N after terrorizing the whole team ^

i wrote this on 2 hours of sleep, i apologize for the cringe and incoherency-

[callsign-datura]

dude would u ever write 4 price 😋

WOULD I? IS THAT EVEN A QUESTION? if you want smut... ask, i gotchu. John Price is the epitome of a strong, capable man. He's not gigantic, but he's big enough to make you second guess fucking with him. He has a face that's unreadable, stony eyes and an alluring accent that makes him all the more attractive. The worst part? He knows it. He knows he's attractive, he knows that he's hot. So he takes advantage of that fact. When you, a pretty girl, somehow ends up on his Task Force? An elite team with spots reserved for only the best? He doesn't treat you any differently. He's hard on you just like he's hard on the guys. But he does expect more from you. And you impress, every single time. Whether that's being agile and quick, or being good with a sniper rifle, his eyebrows arch upward every time you make your skill known. He likes that. He likes the way you look at him, too. The way your eyes linger on the span of his shoulders, his broad chest and the way he sits in his desk chair... he takes note of it. He takes note of the way you seem dizzy every time you're in his office. Whether that's the near-caustic cigar smoke that invades your senses or the way his imposing presence fills the entire room and leaves no room for argument when he makes a decision. If only he knew, though. If only he knew that you felt this overwhelming heat every time he was manspreading in that damn chair, if only he knew that you got immensely horny just from seeing him in action? He'd have your ass for insubordination. At least, that's what you thought. You thought he was an incredibly professional man, and, well, he is, but he decided to exceed your expectations. On a particularly difficult day, where you had to take part in some hard drills and difficult training and sparring, your entire body was tired. You were tired. Emotionally and physically. Your room was down the same hall his office was, so every time you went to your room you'd pass his office. This time when you passed, you noticed that the door was open. You took a quick look inside, and there he was. Price was leaning against the wall, cigar between his lips as he stared at the window with a faraway look. In his other hand was a crystal glass filled half-way with an amber liquid, and he swirled the liquid inside before setting the glass down on the windowsill with a soft thud. He turned his head, and his gaze immediately landed on you. His deep blue eyes penetrated every fiber of your being and ran a shiver up the center of your spine. His lips quirked up into a faint smile when he saw your form shrink in on itself. He pulled the cigar from between his lips. "Sergeant." He said, lowly, gruffly; British accent lacing the word and sending heat straight to your cunt. He put the smoldering cigar in the ashtray in the windowsill, and crossed his arms over his chest, the manner making him look even broader than he already was. His gaze flickered down to your legs as you scuffed your heel against the floor. "Need somethin'?" He inquired, finding it slightly amusing you hadn't responded yet. "Um," you said quietly, trying to straighten your form. You were a soldier, not some blushing schoolgirl in the same room as her crush. A soldier. "No, sir. I was passing by and your door was open." He chuckled. A low chuckle that made his chest heave, and your pussy flutter on nothing. He took a few lithe steps over to his desk as he drew the chair out, and settled into it. The chair creaked under the addition of his weight, and he leaned back, his knees drifting apart as both hands rested on the arms. "So you decided to have yourself a peek, hm?" He said. No, he cooed it. He might as well have been purring at you. "I didn't mean to invade your privacy, Captain, I was just curious." You said quickly, trying to cover your ass. He chuckled again. Your cunt pulsed. "Come," he reached up and gestured with two fingers, a beckoning motion that made the tendons in his forearm flex. "Let's have a chat."

[bleedingcoffee42]

Part 4- Replacements

Wishlist for things that should have made the show.

Speirs did a radio interview in England as he was recovering from shrapnel wounds from Carentan and it was broadcasted during Victory Parade of Spotlight bands. His parents, sister were hosted by Coca Cola and Toll House back home to listen to it. I'd love to hear this. He comes back from the hospital and is assigned to S-2 and then ends up swimming across the river in Holland by himself a few times and gets shot in the ass. Please, let this man fulfill the prophecy of being a Easy Company man, by showing him washed up on shore wounded in "The best place to get shot."

In Carentan, Clancy Lyall runs straight into a German's bayonet and got stuck on it as bayonets tend to do when skewering. Lyall shoots first and the German fell backwards pulling the bayonet out. After getting morphined by himself and at least three other people, he's sent back to England and in the hospital and hears "loud Scottish brogue" and it ends up being his frickin Dad! Merchant marine that got torpedoed and was being treated for hypothermia. Gave him a Luger Luz gave him, Dad was thrilled.

Okay, I admit I just want more Spiers, but come on. In Eindhoven his guys were laughing at him because a hot lady kissed him so hard and long he turned red with embarrassment. We need this.

This when Buck and Nix have their "I hate Jocks!" Conversation. And Buck has do PT in O.D.s because Nix is a petty bitch. Please.

Lieutenant Brewer. He's the guy who walked out and got shot by a sniper. Well, he survives but everyone was like "Oh this dude is a goner" and said it out loud. Give us that. Give us Buck Taylor who sees Brewer face down in the grass and says "Let's get moving, Brewer's finished." and Brewer hears him. And Al Mampre is even worse, he takes one look at the guy who is pale as hell and is like "Lieutenant, are you still alive? Because if you're not, I'm leaving." He ends up being one of Buck's friends who he's been told is dead TWICE only to walk in and see the guy just chillin. Got hit between the eyes in Carentan, they said he was dead and Buck sees him in Aldbourne. Then in Holland he's told he's dead and sees him reading a book in the hospital in Oxford! Flesh this guy out. He's been 'killed' twice and ends up going to work for the CIA, dude could be more.

Clancy Lyall ended up in a Heineken beer factory. He also watches the Brits get out of the tanks and have tea. Every damned day. Winters gets pissed about it. Let us see him pissed.

Shifty debating if he wants to take out Germans who are escorting American prisoners.

Guth has a parachute malfunction , hits hard and ends up paralyzed. Medics take him to a barn and he wakes up to see his hometown doctor! Goes to the hospital but they don't operate and eventually he rejoins Easy even though he could have been discharged but wants to be back with the guys.

Nix and Dick climbing the church tower in Uden. Dick runs down grabs a squad and intercepts a German squad, runs them off, then he goes back to the tower. He and Nix just casually watch the Luftwaffe and tanks hammer Vachel. He comments that he can't believe nobody is trying to take them out. Cue smirks, smiles....the Germans finally sending a shot at them and hitting the bell above their damned heads. They fly down the tower then laugh about it. GOD do I want this scene.

Dick looking for a new CP and coming across a tank and no guards on duty. Pissed he goes inside and sees a British guy eating eggs with a local girl and the guy asks if his tank is still outside? Dick is PISSED, go off buddy. Then he goes to the tavern across the street and Welsh is ON the bar. Dick is chill though, "We had different priorities" but the check point was set up.

[biggestxsimps]

Heard Feelings

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Male Reader

A/N: I'm sorry it's so rushed, and that Simon is so ooc, I've got a request for him coming out, but I don't think I can write for him after that, at least for a little bit.

Can I also say, thank you guys so much for 250+ followers, we really appreciate it!!

PART 1: Unspoken Words

Y/N’s POV:

I was woken up by the sound of muffled talking. As I gained consciousness, I made out "I can't believe I'm doing this. You're not even conscious." My eyes remain shut as I hear the familiar gruff of the british man’s voice. I kept an expressionless face, I could feel his intense gaze wander my frame.

Nothing could've me prepared for his next words, “I want you, no,” He takes a dramatic pause, before huffing out. “I need you.” I no longer feel his eyes on me, cracking a slight smile at the man’s indirect confession. Words I never expected to come out of the Lieutenant's mouth.

I find it difficult to fall back asleep, his words replaying in my mind. I opt on just resting my eyes, waiting until he either says something else or decides to ‘wake me up’ to swap places.

I’m not sure how long exactly I had been laying down, I had chosen to just stare at the sky for the rest of the time I had to wait. Watching the stars before feeling a rough grip shake me. I turn my head and lock eyes with Ghost. “You’re awake?” I sit up, feeling his eyes pierce me. “Yeah, ‘couldn’t end up sleeping.”

I watch as the gears in his mind turn, his eyes widening as he clears his throat. “The whole night?” The nervousness in his voice was evident as he asked. I nod as he tears his gaze away. I move to get up, making my way to the already propped sniper. “Fuck” The man behind me grumbles as he throws his head in his hands.

Ghost’s POV:

Fuck, this wasn’t happening-

Wait, I don’t even know if he heard anything I said. I turned around to the (H/C) haired boy, his back facing me as he slouched to the scope of the sniper. “Get some sleep, Lieutenant.” He cocks his head to his makeshift bed, before adjusting himself. I sigh as I walk up behind him. “I’m not tired.” He looks up from the gun, raising an eyebrow before looking back at the building.

“You’re welcome to stay awake with me then.” I let out a grunt in response. Watching as he tinkered with the gun, fixing it to his preference. After a while of watching him, I felt the urge to ask, I tried my hardest to repress it but the words just came out. “Did you hear-” I stop myself as I gaze anywhere but at him, not truly wanting to know.

“Yeah”

“I didn’t-” “It’s fine Lieutenant, I found your words very sweet.” I could hear the smirk in his voice. “How much did you hear exactly?” He turns around to me, that smirk still plastered across his face. “Enough to know you ‘Need me’.” I feel my teeth grit at that, I open my mouth to speak but he beats me to it. “Relax, I’m just fucking with you.” He lets out a short chuckle.

“I feel the same for you, that you feel with me.” He leans against the wall behind him, staring me down. “You do?” He smugly nods. “How long?” He shrugs, “I don’t know, ‘think it was ‘’Love at first sight’ or something.” He spoke about his feelings very casually.

He pushes himself off the wall before walking, stopping a few inches away from me. His hand wrapped around my covered cheek, his palm pulling my head (Up/Down) to meet with his. “Just tell me if you want me to stop.” His eyes looked even prettier this close, his eyes drag down to my clothed lips. His free hand reaches up, slowly lifting the bottom of my mask, he pulls it to the top of my lips before resting the hand around my neck.

That's when I feel his lips on mine, fuck. I’ve been waiting so long for this. I grab his hair, pulling him deeper into the already sloppy kiss. We split for a couple seconds after losing our breaths, going straight back onto each other's lips. His hand reaches around my waist, pulling me closer-

“Prepare yourself soldiers, we have visuals on the 6th floor. Get into positions.”

My heart drops at the sound of the captain's voice, we immediately pull back from each other, breaths ragged and short. We just stare at each other before we move. We both stumble around, fixing our appearances before we move to the sniper. I duck down, aiming where I had been told, when I hear an out of breath laugh. I feel my lips tug up, my heart pulling as I speak. “That was- great.”

He sighs, “Yeah, shame it was cut so short.” He gives me a look before keeping his eyes back on the target. “We’ll just leave it for later.”

A/N: Can you tell I have no idea how guns and the army works.

Masterlist  

- Written by Owner 1

[tauforged]

i will say the gameplay for the wf99 demo felt really nice. not TOO wildly different but it’s definitely somewhat slower paced and smaller scaled which is nice. i love blowing up entire rooms with the press of a button as much as the next guy but taking it back to ‘shoot guy with gun and maybe stab with sword’ is a fun change of pace and less overwhelming than usual. reminds me of the old ovw pve missions like the blackwatch one. definitely suits the fact that we’re playing As A Character That Says Things And Reacts To His Surroundings (even if he’s painfully british about it. sorry arthur not all crimes can be forgiven) and it makes me really excited to see what everyone else’s gameplay is gonna be like. aside from quincy being a sniper, aoi visibly having dual pistols, and amir having twin daggers we don’t know what anyone else will be working with so it’ll be fun to see what sorta weapons will be available too….. very excited for 99 overall cannot wait for the full update

[moody-alcoholic]

Special Delivery Service

Chapter 15 - The New Client

Summary: Simon x reader, 4.1k words. Time to meet Kira Nova, the British pop sensation requesting armed security.

CW: Mentions of SA, Mentions of terrorist's attack, break in, mentions of stalking, crazy fans.

AN: I have no idea why this chapter took me so long to get through, it's very fluffy, very much filler.. Anyway cue bodyguard shenanigan's for the next few chapters.

Previous - masterlist - Next AO3

Enjoy <3

“How do I look?” You ask Johnny straightening your blouse. 

“You look fine.” Simon says. 

“He has to say that I need a neutral source.” You say turning to Johnny. 

“You look nervous.” Johnny says smiling, you sigh. 

“Don’t worry it’ll be fine.” Kyle says, you turn to look at him. He leans over the balcony next to Johnny. 

“I can’t believe we’re meeting the Kira Nova.” Johnny says.

“You had no idea who she was.” Simon says.

“Not a clue,” Johnny replies, you sigh. Kyle chuckles and you lean over the balcony. 

“You guys need to get out more, she’s all over the UK right now, her music is in the top 10, her tour has been advertised for months. Kira Nova is just a stage name. Her real name is Charlotte Casanova.” You explain. Simon looks at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Italian parent’s.” You say like that’s supposed to explain everything.

“So what does she need armed security for?” Johnny asks, biting into an apple. 

“Something about the recent attacks, she’s delayed the start of her tour twice.” 

“Where’s the first location?” Kyle asks. 

“O2.” You reply.

“That’s gotta be one of the most secure venues right?” Kyle asks. 

“Plenty of sniper spots.” Simon says, you look at him frowning. 

“Do any of you actually read the documents I write?” You ask looking round at them all. 

“I read the summary.” Johnny says, you nudge him. You’re looking out the main doors when you see 2 back SUV’s with tinted windows pull up outside the building. You swallow hard, that must be them. You hear John’s door opening as he comes out and everyone stops leaning on the balcony. You look back at Simon who pulls his mask up over his nose, you smile at him. 

The nerves are back again as John walks down the steps, you all go to follow him, there are people getting out of the SUV’s tall men with earpieces in. You try to look for Kira but you can’t see her, she must still be in the car. Someone walks into the building through the open doors, he looks frazzled, skinny with a bag swung over his shoulder and papers in his hands.

“Who is Mr. Price?” He asks flicking through papers before looking round everyone. Price holds out his hand.

“Mr. Price,” Johnny whispers, leaning into you chuckling. 

“It sounds so wrong.” Kyle says behind you. 

“What’s this?” John asks, looking at the piece of paper he was handed. 

“NDA, you’ll all need to sign one.” He says passing them around to everyone. You skim over it, it just looks like legal jargon. Everyone waits for John who signs the paper then hands the clipboard round. The man waits until everyone has signed it and he’s taken it back before smiling and heading back to the cars. Another man gets out, he's in a smart suit, he looks over the papers then gets back into the SUV. 

You’re all just waiting in silence as people move around, then the car door opens again and the man gets out again. You watch as she steps out the car, she’s wearing a thick jacket pulled right up the back of her neck, a hat and thick rimmed sunglasses. She enters the building in a hurry followed by the rest of her entourage. When she’s in the building she relaxes, pulling her glasses off and looking round everyone.

“I thought you were all military?” She asks. 

“Ex-military.” The man in a nice suit behind her says she sighs rolling her eyes. 

“Do you have somewhere we can talk?” The man in the suit asks. You raise any eyebrow as John leads them upstairs to his office. Everyone follows, the man in the suit and Kira sit down while everyone else stands behind them. 

“First, obviously I would like to say thank you for taking the time to talk to us, you would not believe the amount of hoops we have to jump through for this.” The man in the suite says. 

“And you are?” John asks him. 

“I’m Richard, her manager.” He puts his hand out and John shakes it, he looks at you. You shrug, he read the same info as you. 

“So how long have you been doing security?” Richard asks. 

“Almost a year.” John says. You hear Simon sigh, you know he’s the least excited about this. He gave you the long speech about how much he hates doing security work. 'Standing around for hours on end waiting for nothing to happen to someone. At least if I was a bouncer I’d get to kick drunkards around.’

“So why do you need armed security? The information you gave us was very vague.” John asks, sitting down. 

“Unfortunately, we’ve had an incident, multiple incidents of threats sent via social media.” Richard says, looking at Kira. 

“What kind of threats?” John asks. Johnny nudges you, thrusting his phone in your face. You squint reading the tweets. 

“Shit.” You say, John looks over at you. 

“You’ve really poked the bear lass.” Johnny scoffs, passing his phone to John. He looks through them swiping on the phone. It’s threats she’s been sending.  

“Unfortunately, Charlotte has a habit of calling out people she does not agree with. That includes a group of ex-fans who have seemingly put a bounty on her head.” Richard says. “I assume you’ve seen the video?” John shakes his head. Richard sighs, taking out his phone and pressing play on a video before handing it to John. You’re not listening to it but John sighs his eyes looking up and digging into Kira. 

The phone comes to Johnny and you lean in looking at the screen. It looks like the terrorist videos you’ve seen online only instead of terrorists it looks like fans. A few people stood with a blown up photo of her behind them, weapons in their hands, faces covered. They’re condemning her and her music, saying that they will target her concerts, as well as offering money for someone to ‘take her down.’ 

“What have the police said?” John asks. 

“Not much, she made the threats, but they don’t think she’s a target. They seem to be under the impression that it’s just empty threats, that the weapons are fake and it's just a parody. Not the most uncommon thing they have seen unfortunately.” 

“You think it’s serious?” John asks. 

“There was an attempt on her life. We managed to contain it without letting it get out into the press.” 

“Why didn’t you go back to the police?” Kyle asks. 

“We did, they didn’t really do anything. Said there was no evidence it was linked, just a coincidence.” He shrugged. John looks up at Simon, it’s like they’re mentally communicating.

“I don’t care if you help or not.” Kira says, breaking the silence. Richard goes to protest. 

“You brought this on yourself.” John says as a matter of fact his eyes are digging into her. She just nods. Simon sighs again. 

“We’ll help.” John stands up his hands on the desk as he leans forward. “I need to know you’re willing to work with us. I will not put my men in danger if you’re going to continue to antagonize people who seem pretty hell bent on harming you.” She nods again. 

“I promise you Mr. Price she will not be doing anything of the sort.” 

“Okay,” John nods. Everyone goes to move Simon grabbing your sleeve, you follow out the room leaving John alone with Richard and Kira. 

“Fucking idiot.” Johnny says under his breath as he flops down on the sofa.

“Who?” You ask sitting down next to him. 

“What do you think LT?” Kyle asks. 

“More money than sense.” Simon says. 

“She’s an idiot.” You say agreeing with Johnny. She’s so openly provoking people. “Actions have consequences.” 

“At least she’s not a diva.” Johnny shrugs. You look up at Simon as he crosses his arms.

“Listen to this one.” Kyle says, looking on his phone. “Don’t come to my concert’s if you’re not willing to spend. Don’t want no broke ass fans.” 

“That’s not too bad.” You say. 

“She posted that this morning. This group really hate her, look at their website.” Johnny says leaning over and showing you a website. It looks amateur but it’s full of threats, a list of demands. You watch as Johnny presses through the tabs. 

“What did she do to piss them off so much?” You ask. Johnny shrugs. He clicks on another tab it looks like a live social media feed. It’s giving live updates on where she is. She left her flat with her manager at 8 o’clock this morning. You watch as Johnny refreshes the page and Kyle reads more of her questionable tweets. Then a picture of the work building and the SUV’s parked outside. 

“Shite, Si come look at this.” You watch as he comes over looking at the phone. He takes it out of Johnny’s hand and heads into the office. Johnny gets up to look over the balcony and you follow him. You don’t see anything out of the ordinary, you hear Simon come out of the office. 

“Soap, Gaz lets go.” He says heading down the stairs. They don’t need to be told twice following behind him as they walk out the open doors looking around. You watch as they disappear out of view. John comes out of his office calling you and you go in. You look at Kira, she looks like a kid who’s just had the telling off of her life, her head hung playing with her hands. 

“Hope you’re ready for some paperwork.” Richard says handing you a heavy stack of papers. They almost knock you over with how heavy the stack is. 

“What’s this?” You ask not being able to flick through them. 

“Everything Charlotte has got in trouble with. We believe any one of them could be behind this group.” He explains, you look at the paper on the top; it looks like a court transcript. 

“Why don’t you just agree to their demands?” You ask, looking at John. You don’t know if that’s an appropriate question or what their demands even are. 

“They want me to give away almost all my income and retire from singing.” She says, you raise an eyebrow.

“Is that worth more than your life?” You ask, you see John smile. 

“Singing is my life, I have nothing without it. Besides, I won't negotiate with terrorists.” She says looking at you like you’re an idiot for even asking. 

“They’re not terrorists.” You snap at her, you don’t mean it. You just don’t like the thought of her comparing some crazy fans to terrorists. She looks at you in shock. 

“They fucking attacked me they’re terrorists!” She snaps back. You look up at John and he motions at the door. You get the idea, shaking your head and walking round the room. No one is back yet from whatever it is they’re doing as you make your way back over to the sofa. You thumb through the papers picking up what looks like a bunch of photocopied fan letters. Then your stomach drops they’re thank you letters. Kids thanking her for her charity work.

The next piece of paper is an invoice. You remember seeing about this in the news. She's been accused of embezzling money through her kids cancer charity. How she hasn’t been canceled already is a miracle. This happened a few weeks before the wave of terrorist attacks across Europe. She performed at the charity concert and set a new date for her tour to start. People seemed to forgive her for that, besides it is all just allegations. You look back towards the office, maybe she wasn’t such a bad person but she certainly wasn’t making a good first impression. 

You see Johnny and Kyle walk up the steps coming back over to the sofa. 

“What’s all this?” Johnny asks, taking his jacket off. 

“Her dirty laundry.” You say.  

“Shite, she’s got more paperwork than I do.” Johnny chuckles rubbing his knee. 

“You need to get back to physio for that mate.” Kyle says.

“Na, just the weather getting colder is all.” Johnny replies. Simon comes up the stairs next and walks into the office. Everyone just sits in silence waiting for what’s going to happen. A few minutes later everyone walks out. John and Simon hang back watching as her and Richard get back into the SUV’s. You can’t hear what they’re saying as Simon stands with his arms crossed and John leans on the balcony. You watch the SUV’s drive away as Johnny picks up another paper. You look over at it, it’s definitely a fan letter judging by the colourful language. 

“Maybe being famous isn’t so easy after all.” Johnny smirks. 

 —————————— 

You hadn’t been home for long before Simon was called back into work. He left quickly, not telling you why he had to go back. You cooked some food and watched the TV waiting for him to let you know what was going on. You learnt that when Simon was working unless he had to tell you he would wait. He could be doing anything, could even be doing soldier work. Seems like John was pretty buddy buddy with some people at MI5, they would ask for favors now and then. Kate Laswell the woman you met in Paris you learned works for the CIA. It was almost starting to sound like something out of a movie. Maybe John knew nuke codes too. 

It was almost 9pm when you looked at the clock again, he still isn't home. You get up going to the kitchen, before you get tired you need to take the trash out at least, it’s bin day tomorrow and you hate leaving food in the flat overnight. You get up collecting it all fighting with the bin to pull the bag out. You’d been ordering too much take away, you needed to get back into cooking. You feel bad too, Simon’s a fit guy and you’re pretty sure he would prepare a home cooked meal rather than chinese every night. 

When you open the front door a cold wind hits you, winter is moving in, you like winter mainly christmas. This will be your first christmas with Simon, you’ll need to start thinking of gifts to get him. What would you even get him? Well if all else fails you can’t go wrong with Lynx and a chocolate orange. The thought of buying and wrapping christmas presents for everyone makes you happy as you walk into the hall closing the door behind you. 

People are still out when you make it over to the bins. Walking their dogs coming home late from work, or going out. The carpark is always well lit, you’ve walked across it to the bins many times. This time something felt different though. You can’t explain it but it feels like there’s someone watching you. You try to push the feeling away. There’s no one watching you, you’re just being paranoid. You’ve been reading documents about a group stalking someone all day that’s all it is. 

You throw out the trash making it back across the carpark without incident. See, you’re being silly . You tell yourself as you walk back into the block of flats. You walk up to the first floor then you see your door open. You freeze, gripping the staircase banister. You’re sure you closed the door. Your heart is thumping in your chest, your lungs burn as you realise you haven’t taken a breath. Maybe the wind blew it open. Maybe you didn’t lose it. Your hand reaches into your pocket as you step up to the top step. You hear something, papers being ruffled. Maybe Simon’s back you call him bringing the phone up to your ear. 

“Hey, sorry I know it’s late-” 

“You’re not here yet?” You ask quietly, cutting him off. 

“No, I'm coming back now.”

“Simon, I think there’s someone in my flat.” There’s silence on the line. You’re at your door now it seems like your body has already decided you wanted to go into your flat. 

“Stay outside, I’m on my way.” 

“I’m going in.” You whisper ignoring his instructions. You hear him protesting so you take the phone away from your ear. You open the door with your foot. You see a figure in your flat bent over the pile of papers on the coffee table. He’s dressed in all black with a balaclava on. By his build it’s a man, or at least what you assume is a man.  

“Hey!” You shout as loud as you dare. The figure springs up, his hands wrapped round the papers from the table. You can hear Simon calling you down the phone but your adrenaline is spiked and you’re looking at the person in your flat. Before you can do anything he is rushing towards you. You freeze as he pushes past you. You’re too scared to do anything but he has the files you were given earlier. 

“Hey!” You can just as he turns to the stairs. You reach out and grab him, pulling his arm. He saps around to look at you, his eyes scrunched together he looks mad. You realise you haven’t let go of his arm. Fear runs through you as he shoves you off. 

“You shouldn’t work for that bitch.” Definitely a guy. He runs down the steps and you bring the phone back up to your ear. 

“He’s gone.” Is all you manage to say. You hear a sigh down the line. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” You manage to say, still stood in the hallway. 

“Go into your flat. Lock the door. I’m on my way.” He says. You hear him hang up. You go into your flat and lock the door looking over at the mess of paperwork round your flat. You feel sick. 

What the fuck just happened…

—————————— 

Simon gets a lift from John. It feels like it’s only been a few minutes and you’re on your hands and knees picking up the papers the guy had left. Simon and John walk into your flat. Simon comes straight over to you and you sit back on your knees as his hands find your face. 

“You okay?” He asks, you nod sniffling. You’d already had a cry as the adrenaline wore off. 

“Did you get a good look at them?” He asks, you shake your head. 

“He had a mask on, it was a man though.” He nods, getting up and kissing your forehead. 

“He took most of the paperwork.” You say to John standing up with what’s left. It’s papers you haven't read yet. He comes over taking the papers out of your hand. 

“What happened at work?” You ask.

“Break in, they didn't take anything, tried to get into the store room and Price’s office.” Simon explains as John looks through the stack.

“Who do you think did it?” You feel like you already know the answer. 

“That crazy stan group. What exactly did she do?” John asks, you can hear the kettle boiling. You look over at the kitchen seeing Simon making tea.

“Well, there’s multiple lawsuits for defamation. Something about embezzling from a charity. Then there are the social media claims. People coming forward having worked for her, saying they were treated horribly, allegations of her sexually assaulting people. There’s a lot here, I haven't had time to look through it all.” You explain looking at the small pile of things you’ve even been able to go through. 

“What did MI5 say?” Simon calls from the kitchen. 

“She’s on their radar, they’re aware of the video but don’t think it’s a credible threat. It’s a group of unorganized fans, not a terrorist organization.” John says.

“Anything concrete? Lawsuits, guilty verdicts or all hearsay?” He asks turning back to you.

“A few pending suits from brand companies, one or two class action suits. I don’t know what that guy took. I hadn't finished going through it all.” You sigh. You should have waited for Simon to come. Locked him in your flat and waited. He would have probably jumped off the balcony. You’re only on the first floor. Besides how were you supposed to lock him in your flat, you went out without a key.  

“But they’re just fans, do you really think they’re dangerous?” You say.

“They’re orginised, they know where we work and broken in plus have been here already.” Simon says looking round from the kitchen. You watch as John and Simon look at each other doing that thing where it’s like they’re mentally communicating. John hands the papers back to you. 

“I’ll talk to the client. Two break-ins in one night, these guys aren't playing.” John says.

“Too dangerous?” You ask.

John chuckles heading to the door. “No such thing.” He says leaving. You want to call out to him and tell him he’s wrong. You turn to look at Simon in the kitchen bringing over 2 cups of tea.

“Maybe if it's so dangerous I should have some protection.” You say, you’re not sure where this is going. You just don’t want to feel alone in your own home again. Not after everything. You go round to sit on the sofa next to Simon.

“You’re not having a gun. I can’t be worried about you shooting innocent people because you get spooked.”

“I didn’t mean a gun besides even if I did John taught me how to shoot.” He sighs as he puts the mugs down on the coffee table.

“John took you to a range once.” 

“You teach me then.”

“No.” 

“You’re more likely to hurt yourself with a weapon than you are of actually stopping anyone.” He says as a matter of fact. You don’t know why you’re upset, he's right. Plus it is still very illegal, is it worth the risk for life in prison? You run your hand over his chest, you don’t want to be mad at him, it's not his fault.

“Sorry.” You say he wraps his arm around you. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, just don’t want you getting hurt.” He says kissing the top of your head. 

“So, do you look good in a suit?” You ask, changing the subject. 

“I haven't worn a suit in years.” He says.

“I can take you shopping if you want?” He looks at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah it’ll be fun. I’ll ask Johnny and Kyle too, I'm pretty sure I heard them complaining about having to buy new suits.” You go to pick up your phone but he wraps his arms around you pulling you onto his chest. 

“I would rather go back through SAS training than suffer through a shopping session with Johnny, and Gaz.” He whispers in your ear sending shivers down your spine. 

“Oh yeah, I think it would be fun.” You tease. “Imagining you in a nice suit and an earpiece. Protecting a celebrity. It’s kind of a turn on.” 

“A turn on really?” He asks, kissing your neck. 

“Would you be my bodyguard?” You ask, repositioning yourself over his legs. Letting your head sink into his neck. 

“Depends what kind of celebrity you are” He teases his hands gripping your waist.

“I think I'd want to be a movie star, think about all the people I could meet.” 

“Need someone to walk you down the red carpet? Practice your scenes with?” He kisses your neck and you shudder at the contact.

“Especially the sexy ones.” You say leaning down to kiss him. He smiles as his tongue presses against yours, his hands moving down your back, cupping your ass. Maybe you could have sex now but you’re too tired. You break away from the kiss swinging your legs around so you’re sat back beside him. His arm comes over the back of the couch and you snuggle up beside him as he reaches for his tea. 

“Fine, we can go suit shopping tomorrow.” He says, sighing. You squeal excitedly as you reach over for your phone to text Johnny and Kyle.  

“But you have to get a nice dress to match.” He says as you’re halfway through the text. You turn to look at him seeing the playful grin on your face. 

“I’ll do you one better.” You tease. “How about a nice matching underwear set you get to rip off me after a long hard day.” He chuckles while sipping his tea. You feel heat rush to your cheeks. 

“Hey, I’m new to this flirting game, leave me alone.” You protest. 

“Baby, you’d look sexy in a bin bag.” He says resting his free hand on your thigh. You blush again. You snuggle up against him finishing the text. It doesn’t take long for Johnny to text you back.

“Johnny says he knows a place that does decent suits.” You say as Simon turns the TV on.

“‘Cause he does.” He says leaning back. You look over at the pile of paperwork still waiting to go through. You hope the guy didn’t steal anything too important. At least court documents are public record, you should be able to track down anything you’re missing. Seems like tomorrow was going to be a long day after all.

Next Banners by Firefly Graphics

[prac-ticalproblems]

suggestion based off your post asking for suggestions: what do you think all their favorite albums would be. mind you they’re in the late 1960s so like it would be an album they liked so much they would save up and buy the record. lord knows music was an arm and a leg for 10 tracks. I’m thinkin engie might be into Johnny Cash, definitely bein into At Folsom Prison and probably also Townes Van Zandts self titled album when they came out in 1969. Scout would probably be a Chuck berry fan. I can also see him knowing how to dance to 40s big band music because his ma used to dance with him in his brothers in the living room as kids but he would be embarrassed about that one. Soldier would HATE the Beatles. and I have no idea about everyone else.

You. You get it. I’m gonna squeeze you. /pos

I love this ask so much I am going to do 60’s AND make it regional and Historical! Because we are syncing brain waves rn. (With a little bit of karaoke headcanonz)

1960’s music w the mercs

Medic - I believe that Medic is a very chaotic music lover. He has a background of classical in some way, with his fascination for it in the game and it’s bled outward into loving loud booms and the thrill of it speeding up.

So maybe some early forms of rock? Especially if it’s Peggy Peter’s. He sings like shit though.

Heavy - I’m not going to lie, this immediately came to me. Heavy loves pop. Heavy loves a bouncy little jig that he can play while cleaning Sasha. He probably got it from his sisters. I also believe that he has a very strong sense of political beliefs about his country so pop that has a message.

Definitely Edita Piekha. 100%. Lovely vocals from the gods. A little rattling, but He is a perfect bass.

Scout - HE WOULD LOVE CHUCK BERRY. That man hums ‘My Ding-a-ling’ as he showers. Absolutely.

He has Sex Bomb tattooed, but I’m sure his favorite Tom Jones song is actually It’s Not Unusual. He screeches when he sings instead of singing higher.

Demo - I see him being into much older songs for his age (he’s like nearly 30) just because of the way his mother raised him. I think he’s got an older soul than he thinks. So 1940’s swing and soul. Strong believer that he has more than a few albums that he cherishes, but most of them are from his mom.

He cries every time he puts it on though, just to let the feelings out. When he’s drunk, he sings terribly, when he’s sober? Probably still a little bad but he doesn’t know his range and doesn’t care if he’s tone deaf.

Pyro - I have personal ideas about Pyro that makes me think he is a huge Jimi Hendrix fan. I refuse to explain or elaborate as I will be here all day.

All Along the Watchtower. He bounces whenever it’s played.

Sniper - Jazz. I know it’s an easy answer, but it’s also THE RIGHT ONE. I think he’s very much a “nod his head and listen” type of music lover as a posed to “can’t stop moving” sort of guy.

He also probably prefers wordless music, for focus, and lyrics in music when he’s alone. (He is dancing in his room when no one’s around.)

Soldier - FUCKING HATES THE BEATLES. I’m almost tempted to say the only thing he listens to is music about WAR. But he’s probably into punk music. But I’m sure he fucks up and listens to anti war songs instead of actual war songs. So he’s accidentally listening to ‘hippie music’. No one has the will to explain it to him.

His favorite song is probably Gene Stridel - What do you win when you win a war. But only when he’s more self aware, more aware of his situation. It comes and goes. Soldier refuses to sing the song, ever. But it’s close to his heart, even if he sometimes doesn’t know why.

Spy - secretly a hippie. Definitely into Yé-yé, a type of french-ized version of British pop/exotica (like THE BEATLES.) He shows Soldier his music taste and it sends him into a rage. I think he takes pleasure in it.

Especially Baroque Yé-yé. Very Spy feely. Also Scout’s mom has probably shown him some Josephine Baker, and he likes it. Sings in a snooty little voice but it sounds pleasant enough. He thinks he’s the best singer in the team. (it’s heavy)

Engineer - GOD, you’re so right. Johnny Cash is the most fitting for him. I feel like he’s definitely a music sharer and taker. He carries songs from the people who he loves around with him. I think his mom loves Tammy Wynette and it’s crossed over to him.

Rip, you stupid fuck, you would have loved Poor Man’s Poison. He probably does that thing where they end off words in country with like a howl, instead of just ending the sentence.

[pvtchurch]

[DAY 3: ALTERNATE UNIVERSES]

what if i was a russian sniper and u were a british expat working as a spy for the US government and it was the 70s... and we kissed 😳

for @rvbrarepairweekdos!!!

ship insp

WELP I'm so glad I at least got to do 1 drawing for this!! idk if I'll be able to draw anything else but I hope so ^^ it has been very fun so far to see everything get posted!

this "cold war" au doesn't actually exist... just thought it would be fun since I hc the dakotas as russian lol.

this is not the highest quality drawing ever but I hope you guys enjoy anyway.

and thank you to ghost for hosting this event :D

bonus: how my friend described this drawing

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

medic for the ask game? Alternatively, the eyelanded

I CANNOT answer all these damn questions about a talking sword you're getting Medic

favorite thing about them He's also just HILARIOUS like he's really really really funny and fun to watch and think about. His voice performance is so good he has so many top-tier funny moments. Also titties

least favorite thing about them Absolute fucking nightmare to play, which makes every single Medic main, yes, even you, an absolutely insufferable person

favorite line Where do I even fucking start with this guy. Who's ready to be a mother?

brOTP Now I don't think they would "hang out" but I think Medic would be like the Joker for the Administrator. Like Wheatley and Glados if Wheatley were smarter and also German instead of British. He would love pissing her off so much and that's funny. I also think he's great at hanging out with the whole team as a group, it balances out his energy a bit more and he's not as. yknow. Medic. as he can be one-on-one

OTP Sniper fucked that old man

nOTP Mediscout is boringgggg I'm so sorry it's BORING. There are ways to do it that I think can be fun but mostly it's just boring. I'm also finding engiemedic more and more boring the more time I spend here but you know. It's whatever

random headcanon Medic cannot read. More specifically, he's probably dyslexic, and has trouble with reading in any language. Also I generally write him as vaguely trilingual (German, Yiddish, and English) so that was probably a struggle for him, and I think he confuses the vocabulary and grammar of all three languages together a lot. But he's good at math

unpopular opinion Medic actually likes people. He's actually friends with the people on his team and they like him back. He's "weird" for sure, and he's definitely a sadist, but it's tf2 so that doesn't really matter and he's mostly just an Eccentric Scientist everyone finds weirdly charming in his own little way. The implications are astounding

song i associate with them Bubblegum Bitch dadada dadada

favorite picture of them

This one is just really top tier. I don't love this comic's art style and it's not my favorite way he's ever been drawn but it's just so fucking funny. He's even kinda doing the nerd finger point in this one

[ID: A Cold Day in Hell comic screenshot of Medic running through a door, a stack of papers in his arms, saying "Wait! Are we leaving? What about the baboon uteruses?" End ID]

[fluorescentbalaclava]

training season's over (double chapter)

Chapter 7: Gleaming & Chapter 8: FISH n' CHIPS

Summary:

Gleaming

To describe something as good, desirable or brilliant. A particular favourite of the Guards Division. If something is ‘gleaming’ you’re probably onto a good thing.

FISH n' CHIPS acronyms, Fighting In Someone's House and Causing Havoc In People's Streets.

TF141/female reader, König/female reader

spy reader, forced bonding, slow burn, slow build, military inaccuracies, suggestive language, language, canon typical violence, second chance, domestic fluff, enemies to friends, becoming buddies, referenced torture, hurt/comfort, hugs, bar fights, alcohol, cuddles

previous: chapter six "contact"

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

Chapter 7

How to tell a guy has a crush on you?

You immediately groan to yourself for googling this at your grown age. There was a time when you dated, you even had a boyfriend before all of this. Still, it feels like a lifetime ago, those thoughts were pushed to the back of your head for a while, but after your encounter with König you need answers. 

God, at what point I got so disconnected with emotions?

Ah, the good old WikiHow.

 1 - He talks to you—a lot.

Uhm...maybe?

2 - He makes eye contact.

Definitely, it’s kinda unsettling sometimes.

3 - He gives you his full attention.

Uh... I mean, yes. But isn't this like the bare minimum?

4 - He laughs at your jokes.

This is ridiculous.

5 - He tries to impress you.

Eh, perhaps.

7 - He lowers his voice when he speaks to you.

The fuck?

You cringe at yourself, before closing your computer and placing it next to you. I mean, maybe it’s not romantically? He clearly cares about you, after all, you don't just go through that for anyone, at least you wouldn't. Or would you? Fuck, this is hard.

König was---is your friend. You began to remember the first time you met him; you fresh joined KorTac, lined up in a row with other new recruits. Upcoming missions required weeks long deployments, and you were informed that some of you were needed for them as there was a shortage of staff in the base, due to the many operations KorTac was contracted to carry out, and that the commanding officers would pick a few rookies to fill the spots.

The first two officers went past you, not even giving you a second glance, just picking the biggest people in the row and calling it a day. The third of them, an American, just looked down at you and with a sarcastic tone said.

"I think you're in the wrong place, doll."

Cunt.

The sight of the fourth one immediately made everyone on the row stand straight. You heard someone beside you whisper "colonel". He was intimidating, tall as fuck, with a black sniper hood over his face and clear paint smeared on the fabric under the holes of his eyes, looking straight out of a Friday the 13th film.

He walked in silence, taking the time to examine each one of the remaining recruits in line. Opposite to the other officers, or at least the ones he talked to, he liked rookies. They were fresh meat, easy to mould to his liking. You saw him looking at you, slightly tilting his head like a curious dog, and you made yourself hold his gaze.

That might have caught his attention, because next thing you knew, he was in front of you. Looking down, probably standing too close on purpose only to make you look up even more, putting your neck in an uncomfortable position. God, it was humiliating.

"Name?" He asked, surprising you as his voice was not as deep as you expected.

"Sage, sir"

"SAS?" He asked, pointing at the Union Jack on your chest.

"No, sir. I was hired before I could try for selection. Corporal, British Army." You explained, and you saw him narrowing his eyes while looking at your face.

"You're coming with me, Maus." He said before simply turning around and walking away. Leaving you a little dumbfounded, as well as your fellow comrades, but soon you followed after.

And that was it, just like that you were under his command until you had the requirements to try and become a sergeant. You never asked him why he exactly did it, you didn’t want him to feel like you were questioning him. He was your superior, after all. Google just told you that "Maus" was a common term of endearment in German.

Those thoughts brought back to that day in Uzlovoye, Russia. Everything felt calm enough— just a rural town, you thought. You really don't remember much; you remember getting into what seemed like an abandoned building and having to collect a computer with vital information inside a bunker. You remember hands behind you, König's voice asking for updates through the comm, the growing anxiety in his voice at the lack of response, the hands squeezing your neck, and then everything went black. The next thing you remember was lifting your head, trying to move to no avail, something hard behind you, the feeling of restraints all around your body, and the disgusting smell of rust and humidity.

A knock on your door distracts you.

“Who is it?”

“Me,” Soap voice says from outside the door.

“Come in.”

He opened the door, finding you resting on your bed already in your pyjamas. One with bunnies this time. Looking around, he quickly realises you have already made yourself quite at home. The room is fully decorated now, except for some boxes piling up in the corner. He could even bet you would have painted the walls as well, if given the chance. You can tell he’s also ready for bed with a shirt from some band you don’t even know and tartan pyjama bottoms.

“Came for a tour?” You said it with a teasing tone from bed, looking up at him.

“Oh, sorry” He answered clearing his throat.

“I'm here to formally invite ye to our monthly film night” Soap said with a playful, elegant tone.

"Monthly? How come I'm first learning about this? I've been here for four months already" Seeing Soap standing on the doorway with a cocky grin.

"Sure, ye can get mad at us for not inviting ye...or ye can be over the moon we are doing it now" He said teasingly.

"Fine...just give me a minute."

And now you were there, in the usual sitting position, with Gaz in the middle, you on one side and Soap on the other. Ghost and Price are sitting on individual sofa at each end of the couch. All of them looked more casual, in their pyjamas as well. Maybe next time you could convince them to do a face mask and turn this into a proper sleepover, like the ones you held with your girlfriends back in high school. You brought a blanket with you to snuggle as well as a cardigan, the base felt like a freezer in the winter.

They did a rock, paper, scissors competition to see who picked the film. Something in you got suspicious when everyone groaned when Price won, even Ghost, but you gave his taste in movies the benefit of the doubt.

Fucking hell...

He picked Gangs of New York, and about half an hour later, the only thing keeping you awake was the feeling of your head bobbling every time you were close to falling asleep.

The only thing keeping Kyle entertained was seeing how hard you were trying to stay awake. From what Johnny told him, you apparently had trouble sleeping, often waking at night to sneak to the kitchen. So, to try and help you, at some point he shifted his shoulder a bit, so when you fell asleep, your head fell against it.

He felt how your breath slowly became even and calm, and you soon were sleeping like a baby. At least she can spare herself from this. As much as he tried to keep focused on the screen, trying to at least follow the storyline, you kept leaning more of your weight against him, seeking his warmth, to which he felt his cheeks warming up.

He took a look around, Ghost was watching the screen, Soap was asleep as well, and Price was watching the picture attentively.

His hand was awkwardly behind you, not sure what to do with it, as your body was pressed on his side. After a few minutes of consideration, he decided that to be comfortable, or so he told himself, to delicately put his arm around your waist, careful to be respectful and gentle. You shifted slightly, and he almost pulled away, but you just snuggled more against him, making him confident enough to cuddle you some more.

He leaned back on the couch, relaxing. It was surprisingly pleasant to rest like that. He could feel the warmth of your body underneath your clothes and how your body gently moved with each breath.

The light of the television illuminated your sleeping face, your muscles relaxed and a peaceful expression, quite the opposite of what he normally sees in you. You looked like a powerhouse when you trained, running through the o course like it was nothing, doing series after series at the gym, and relentlessly hitting whatever thing you had in front of you to train: the bag, mannequins, or Soap. 

In your sleeping thoughts, the heat coming from an unknown source was soothing, the aroma of cologne appearing in your dreams and the softness of the cotton of his shirt against your cheek.

He tried to remember the last time he ever was with someone like this. Probably before he joined the 141. Since he met Price, his life has been dedicated to the task force, his country, and saving the world. He almost forgot how nice this was.

The thoughts started to drift even more.

He imagined coming back to someone after work, lying like that while relaxing after a hard day of work, ordering takeout, watching the telly, and then heading to the bedroom. He didn’t realise until now that he craved that, the intimacy of a partner and the closeness of someone outside his friends. So focused on his job he almost forgot the feeling of a warm body pressed against him, the softness of the fabric of your shirt under his hand, your steady breath...he felt slightly flustered at the thoughts crossing his head, but he allowed himself to enjoy in silence. Just two co-workers resting on an evening—it wasn't a big deal. You looked adorable, he had to admit. And he enjoyed the moments he spent with you off-duty; going for the groceries, watching reality TV, or going for runs in the morning. All the stuff he dreaded or felt like chores of civilian life was now enjoyable. They almost made him forget he was a soldier, that he was in a base, and that you are there because you are a criminal. Of course, he would never tell you any of that.

"Kyle" You whispered groggily, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at you. You couldn’t even open your eyes, the sight bringing a soft smile to his face.

"How long until it ends?" You added it, making him chuckle silently.

"It's almost three hours long, and we're only one hour in, luv" He whispered back, amused.

"For fuck's sake" You muttered in an annoyed groggy tone, curling up on yourself even more while pulling the blanket up, wrapping yourself as you were still leaning against him, going back to sleep.

He could get used to this.

Chapter 8

With a unanimous vote, or so they told you, they decided to take you to the Battleship, a small bar close to the base opened by a retired SAS member mostly for other soldiers to hang out in.

You decided on putting on a long-sleeve shirt with some open buttons on the front that let it hang open enough for your tank top to peek out. As well as just some normal jeans, your tactic boots, and a jacket. You also decided to leave your hair down with clips to prevent it from falling all over your face. And just the tiniest bit of makeup—you were actually excited to see yourself a bit more dolled up than usual. Still casual enough, you think.

When Price sees you, a realization quickly strikes him. Yes, you were a merc, a spy, and you murder people—all crimes he was already too familiar with, and by the looks of it, so were you. But you were only a girl. When you arrived with a soft smile to meet them in the car park, it was like you didn't belong there with them. In other circumstances, you probably would have finished college by now; you would be getting ready to go out with your girlfriends for a drink after a normal day of work and chatter about your lives; you'd have a flat (a new one); and probably a partner. But instead, whatever life choices you made brought you here, going out on a Saturday night with four war criminals, older than you, to a shitty bar on the side of the road. He almost feels pity for you.

Pity he's quickly snapped out of when, apparently, once you got in the Jeep and you were getting comfortable, Soap got in behind you, accidentally pulling your hair with his arm against the seat, to which you winced and almost instinctively threw a very hard push against his shoulder, making him loudly groan but back out.

"Get off my hair," you said, glaring at him, picking up your hair and putting it over one of your shoulders, brushing it together again.

"I'm trying, but it's fuckin' everywhere. Can't ye put on a ponytail or something? Jesus Christ, no need to dislocate my shoulder." He said it with a small wince of pain, rubbing his shoulder.

"Muppets, behave," Price said with a sigh before getting into the driver seat.

It's probably going to be a long night.

He had yet to ask you for what fucked-up reason you ended up enlisting in the first place. But he saw you were uncomfortable enough when he tried to make you call your parents more frequently, and he didn't want to push any further.

He saw on the rearview mirror that Soap and you had made peace, and he was now telling you about how terrible the new recruits were and how they couldn't even handle a few runs around the base, and he was surprised when he heard a “I give them two more weeks” from Ghost, who was sitting next to you.

You seem well enough, considering your situation. He was glad when Kyle came to him, asking for permission to take you along with Soap to the town on a small shopping spree by the sounds of it.

Soap very much enjoyed the little getaway, even if it was for mundane things such as going to the supermarket, the bakery, and a small shop to get your mug. They made you wait in another aisle while Gaz and him debated between getting you the “I’m not short, I’m just more down to earth than most people!” one or the "Don't be a cuntcake" one that had a little drawing of a cupcake. Ultimately, their decision was the right one when you opened the box and cringed at the mug about your height. He really enjoyed getting to taste the macarons you bought. They were a bit overpriced for his liking, but they were tasty, so it was worth it.

"So... thoughts?" Gaz said, walking beside you as you entered the bar.

"It's...not bad," you say slowly, looking around.

It's clearly not your style or your idea of a bar. The decorations look like they were clearly chosen by a retired soldier (in a bad way), and it reeks of cigarettes; you could be smoking two cigars yourself by the amount of smoke you're breathing. Needless to say, it is quite busy, and Ghost and Price walk in front of you, with Soap behind as they go to the bar. Gaz just chuckled, probably sensing that this wasn't really your cup of tea.

"After a drink, it'll grow in you," he says as you start walking to the counter as well.

"Price! It's been a while, mate, what you've been up to?" The man at the counter asked cheerfully, already grabbing a bottle of whisky.

"Very busy months, Arthur. We are catching a break while we can," the captain answered while leaning on the counter.

"He is the owner," Gaz whispered to you.

You glanced at the man, looking him up and down. Checkered shirt, long beard, curly hair, missing a leg. Probably the reason why he retired in the first place.

"Oh, and who's this? Your daughter?" He said it with the same cheerful attitude, noticing you were looking at him and extending his hand to you. You chuckled as you shook his hand, and Gaz and Soap snickered at the comment as well.

"How old do you think I am? No, she's a new recruit," Price said in a mock-offended tone.

"Sa---...eh, Wire" Old habits die hard.

"Sorry, John. And it’s a pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.” He said it with a friendly tone, letting you go and putting a small bowl of peanuts in front of you.

“What can I do for you today?"

"Water, I have to drive."

"Whisky"

"Bourbon"

"Guinness, please"

"Do you have absinthe?"

"I actually do! It's been a while since someone ordered, but we serve it the classic way. Give me a moment." The man behind the counter, seemingly excited by the request, left to search for the necessary tools on the back.

When you looked next to you, your teammates were looking at you as if you had a second head.

"What?" Your tone was already defensive.

"Are you an alcoholic, bonnie?" Soap answered with his own question.

"I like the taste! It’s like liquorice."

"That doesn't help your case, luv," Gaz said teasingly, winning a playful scoff from you.

"Fuck off, it's just to warm up."

After Arthur came back, he made a small show of serving your absinthe, ice-cold water, absinthe spoon, and sugar cube, and you were surprised to even see a Pontarlier reservoir glass. After that, he went to serve the rest of the drinks less excitedly.

Once the first round was finished and Soap gagged after asking to try your drink, the five of you left the counter in favour of an empty table next to the pool, dividing into two teams: Soap and Ghost against Gaz and you. Price opted to be a spectator while smoking a cigar. After Ghost broke the aligned balls, their team had the solid ones, while you were left with stripes.

Alcohol must have really warmed you up because you were laughing more than usual at playful banter and at Soap's stupid dick jokes directed at Ghost regarding balls and pool cues.

Simon grumbled, but deep down, he didn't mind. For a change, it was nice to hear your laugh and to see your cheeks flush as you got hot from laughing and the heat of the place. He could see the men from the other tables ogling you, and although he knew you were perfectly capable of handling them yourself, he couldn't help but shoot glares in their direction when you weren't looking, making them immediately turn around at the sight of a man like Ghost catching them red-handed. A strange feeling of protectiveness was brewing in his chest—something about someone like you in a place like this and surrounded by rough men. It was foolish to think; he was well aware, and he felt almost embarrassed to even entretain the idea. Three months ago, he hated you and everything about you, and he let Price know multiple times that it was a terrible idea to have a criminal on the team.

But now...he had to look away when you bent over the table on your turn; suddenly, the inside of his mask was too warm.

"I need a drink," you announced, bubbly, stretching your back before handing Gaz your pool cue.

"No more absinthe, bonnie, won't hold yer hair while you throw up." Soap said, teasing, making you chuckle.

"I'm getting a coke; don't worry, mom."

"And I'm going to the bathroom," Price announced from the nearby table.

"Does anyone want anything?" You asked as you began to walk away.

"No thanks, luv," Gaz said, as Soap and Ghost only shook their heads as they were studying the table, seeing the best way to proceed as they were losing.

You walked away to the counter, which was across the bar, allowing the three men to keep sight of you.

Soap lowered his upper body over the table, hitting a red ball but missing the pocket, making him curse under his breath. Gaz chuckled at this, and they had a small break while you got back since it was your turn. He saw you waiting for Arthur to be done with another customer when a man he didn't recognize but saw on a nearby table approached you, shamelessly putting his hand around your waist as he stood beside you. The men on his table were watching the scene with a smirk on their faces.

This made him annoyed, and apparently, he wasn't the only one.

"Fucking dogs." Soap said, standing next to Ghost.

"Should we go for her?" Gaz asked, trying his best not to sound too eager. He saw you turn around with a scowl, clearly not happy.

"Lass can take care of herself," Ghost bluntly answered. Although his eyes were betraying him, he was still glued to the scene.

When he turned to look back at you, you were saying something to the man while glaring at him. The men chuckled and said something back, and you rolled your eyes. Your face went back to face the front. Maybe you didn't mind?

Then he saw how the man's hand slithered down your back, and he felt his blood boiling. But before his hand could reach its destination, a quick blow from your elbow harshly met its own destination, connecting with the man's nose. Not only making him pull his hand away but making him fall back with a whine of pain, and now everyone’s eyes were on the scene.

"You fucking whore!" The man said loudly before he got up, clearly aggressive. But you weren't backing up, either.

"Fuck," Gaz said before he quickly hurried up to the scene, followed by Soap.

As they arrived, Gaz got in between the man and you, and Soap quickly held you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist. The man's friends are also holding him back, muttering stuff along the lines of “it’s not worth it” or “it’s just a chick.”

"Put your fucking bitch on a leash," he said angrily, blood pouring from his nose. Ah, a yank.

"Haud yer wheesht," Soap barked at him from behind you, still holding you as you tried to break free from his arms.

"I’ll chop your hands off." Not even you knew you had so much pent-up anger inside you, probably looking for the right situation to explode. Johnny was struggling more than he would like behind you, feeling like he was trying to hold back a bull. Bloody hell, maybe I should do more weightlifting.

"The fuck is your problem, mate?" Gaz through gritted teeth, but before the man could scream back, you were approached by Ghost. The man's eyes widened, and he stayed quiet, all the blood draining from his face.

"L-Lieutenant." He said this while standing straight, trying to sloppily clean the blood off his face with his hand.

"You are?" Ghost asked.

"Shadow Company, sir." You heard Soap muttering 'of course' under his breath, still holding you back.

"T-This girl broke my nose!" He said, pointing at you, making your efforts to break free from Soap's grip increased.

"Yer awfy crabbit, mo leannan," Soap whispered to you, not letting you go, trying to get you to calm down.

"Only because you tried to touch her ass like a fucking mutt in heat," Ghost answered bitterly, looking down at the man who looked as if he wanted the earth to swallow him.

"What’s the problem here?" Price approached the situation, fresh from the bathroom. At the sight of the captain, the man looked like he wanted to throw up.

"Graves men were getting handsy with the lass," Gaz explained, and he heard you groan in annoyance behind him.

"I can take care of him myself." You said through gritted teeth.

The same alcohol that made you giggle like a teenager is now making you thirsty for blood, as well as annoyed that they felt the need to handle the situation themselves, like you weren't an adult and a trained killing machine, just like them. All the frustration, sadness, and anger that you obediently swallowed in the first months of your new life, not wanting to worsen your already poor situation, is now coming back to bite you in the ass. You wanted to unleash every little one of your frustrations on the man in front of you.

"Mo chridhe, calm down," Soap said again. Gentle but struggling, you were using all your force to get out of his embrace.

"LT, help." He said in a strained voice as he kept trying to lock you in his arms, to which Simon rolled his eyes, but he eventually approached you. With ease, he wrapped his arm around your waist and threw you over his shoulder.

"Fucking hell, Simon," you said, now with a view of the 'Lieutenant Riley' written on his back.

"Some fresh air will do you good, flower." He said as he walked out of the bar carrying you.

This was a rather embarrassing situation, everyone was watching curiously. It was not the first time you were carried out of the bar, and certainly not your first fight. Probably not the last, either. You deep down knew that the gossip of the new girl getting into a fight and being carried away by her lieutenant was going to spread like wildfire on the base.

But, your head felt slightly woozy making you accept your fate as fresh air was starting to sound very nice.

"Sorry, Arthur," Price said with an apologetic look, looking at the bartender.

"Don't worry, John; good to see the new recruits still have some fire on them." He was hinting at the direction in which you disappeared.

"And you," Price said, turning around to the other men again. The main culprit is now holding a napkin against his nose, sitting down like a wet dog. John had a severe look on his face, making the men look more miserable. "Name. Now."

You sat in the Jeep with the door open. Ghost was standing in front of you, his mask lifted as he smoked a cigarette. You notice the blonde stubble; the concept of someone as big and intimidating as him being a blonde named Simon was quite funny, but right now you tried to focus on deep breaths, trying to calm your own anger down.

After a few minutes, you saw the Shadow Company men being pushed out of the bar by Gaz and Soap, followed by Price, who seemed to be on the phone. Your anger, far from diffusing, spikes again. You began to stand up again.

"Let them handle it." He says it in a calm tone, putting his free hand on your shoulder and making you sit again.

"I can handle it myself. My ass is the one involved, not yours," you answer, glaring up at him.

"I know you can, and as much as I would enjoy seeing you beat the shit out of them, you don't have to." He says, voice husky but surprisingly gently, looking down at you. You arched your brow at his words, and he decided to elaborate some more.

"Price is most likely calling Graves; they'll probably get a written reprimand, extra shit to do, and they will be banned from our sector on the base."

"I don't need Price to rat them out for me; I can take care of it."

"My point is that you don't have to. Listen: Despite everything, you are still on thin ice, flower. That thing is not a bracelet." He was gesturing to your ankle monitor.

"We don't give a shit if you kill them; in other circumstances, I would have gladly help you. Shadows are cunts, and they all act like mutts after a bone. But getting into a fight with people who are guests in our base is not a good view for the higher-ups, and Laswell and the Captain can only do so much in your defence." You listened attentively, his words making sense, but you still couldn't help but feel annoyed as you saw the man and his friends being escorted to their car, Price still on his call.

"Besides, you don't have to do it all yourself, you know?" He said that, and you directed your glance back to him.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to take care of yourself alone. We are a team; we take care of each other." You can't help but show a hint of surprise on your face.

"Are we?"

"Yes."

After almost four months...the bastard.

A smile slipped from your lips, and he kept looking down at you. In another context, he would be pissed at giving in, but he let you savour your victory, you deserved it.

The moment was broken as Price approached.

"Back to base, muppets," he said, opening the driver door, not before watching the car of the members of the Shadow Company leave the car park.

Soap came behind him to ruffle your hair, making you groan playfully.

"You okay, bonnie?" He asked warmly.

Gaz also arrived behind him, handing you your forgotten jacket and a can of Coke he bought you.

"Thanks, Kyle...yeah, I'm fine. Fuck... I’m sorry." A hint of embarrassment got to you as you rubbed your temples.

“None of that, bonnie. Anyone would have done the same. Not me, though; I would have kicked his balls.” Soap said, shrugging, making you chuckle.

“Not for punching him. For ruining the night.”

“Sweetheart, everything is fine. I talked to Shepherd; he’ll chew Graves ear off. For now, they’ll enjoy cleaning the showers with a toothbrush, and they’re banned from the mess hall and the gym, so you won’t see them.” You listened to Price, and you looked back at Ghost, who was giving you an ‘I told you so’ glance.

“Arthur said that you'd get a free drink next time.” Gaz said, also trying to lighten your mood.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, trying to avoid their gazes. You felt vulnerable, accepting help; it felt both terrible and surprisingly heart-warming.

The way back was actually nice, with Price telling a story from when he was a private and they had a few drinks while camping. One of them got so drunk that they made him believe there were lions in that zone, and he was scared shitless until he sober up enough to realise, they were in the German countryside.

The stories were a bit silly, but the way they were telling them was both endearing and entertaining. There was a fuzzy feeling in your stomach, and your cheeks hurt a bit because you were not accustomed to laughing and smiling this much.

next chapter: coming soon!

Thank you to the lovely people following this! <3: @no-lessthan3 , @blush-haze , @eustassh , @valkyrieunknown

if you like it leave me some kudos or suggestions on ao3! <3

[pastlivesandpurplepuppets]

I was providing cover fire for the rest of the platoon, when I felt something hit my leg hard. I thought I was hit. But it was Buck Compton’s head. He fell across a wheelbarrow right at my feet. A sniper got him right in the backside. He looked up at me and said, “She always said my big ass would get in the way.” He had four holes in his rear end. He was a strapping guy, too heavy for anyone to drag, and we were being bombarded with heavy machine-gun fire. I tried to help Buck, but he told me to leave him there for the Germans. (Bill adds: “When Compton got shot, he wanted us to leave him there to die. He didn’t want anyone else to get hit trying to save him. He was no midget. Six-foot-two, two hundred forty pounds. I told him he was going to get shot in the ass because he was too big to run fast. Our company medic, Gene Roe, tried to patch him up, and we had to get him out of there. Malarkey, Babe, Joe Toye, and I and some others tried to lift him, but it was like picking up a damn elephant. We had to rip a door off a barn, make a stretcher out of it, and get him up onto a British tank. He was mad as hell that we were trying to help him. Mad as hell. Cursing us all. He wanted to kill us. But Compton was lucky. He got four holes in his rear end from one bullet, and I’m saying he was lucky. It was a fleshy spot, they could fix it bing-bang-boom, so he was lucky.”)

That was a pretty amazing feat that Bill, Malarkey, and Toye pulled off. They did it in that open field with machine fire coming from every direction. Especially considering we were the only platoon there, the others were off to the flanks.

~ Babe Heffron