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#scottish recon
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Brighid and Bee swarms: I will not molest the swarm queen, nor will the swarm queen molest me.
"Carmichael (1928), in his review of Scottish customs attaching to the Feast of Saint Brigit, speaks of what he calls 'a propitiatory hymn' sung to 'a serpent' which 'is supposed to emerge from it's hollow among the hills on St Bride's Day'. Some of the versions of the 'hymn', describe what emerges from a tom, 'the knoll', as rigen ran, 'a noble queen', and, on the basis of my argument hitherto, I take this to be a clear reference not to any serpent, but rather to the queen bee and, therefore, by implication, to Brigit herself.
La Bride nam brig ban On the day of Bride of the white hills Thig an rigen ran a tom The Noble Queen will com from the Knoll, Cha bhoin mise ris an rigen ran I will not molest the Noble Queen, 's cha bhoin an rigen ran rium Nor will the noble queen molest me.
By way of further support for this reading, an emendation of Carmichael's interpretation of a tom as 'the knoll' can easily be made, substituing for 'knoll', 'round heap', 'conical knoll', 'ant-hill', dictionary definitions of tom (Dwelly, 1918), one or all of which readily could be taken as referring to a bee-nest or bee-hive. Likewise, Carmichael's reading of rigen ran as 'noble queen' may also be open to an interpretation other than that offered by him here: the qualifying element ran, taken by Carmichael to be the adjective ran 'noble', constitutes a suitable soubriquet for a royal personage, to be sure, but it is also a word which might easily be confused with ràn meaning, among other things, 'melancholy cry', 'drawling, dissonant roar or cry' (Dwelly, 1918). Needless to say, the idea of a 'noisy' rather than a 'noble' queen slots in well with the tumult which accompanied swarming according to early writers (...)"
—Hearth-prayers and other traditions of Brigit: Celtic goddess and holy woman. Article by Ó Catháin (Séamas) in JRSAI 122 (1992), pp. 12–34.
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muddiestpath · 1 year
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I have no interest in military stories but COD MW2 fandom has me thinking of dumb story ideas like: werewolves in the military as trackers/infantry. & the ethical issues of a 'monster' race the government would find a way to control. To mirror how military does not care for it's soldiers & dehumanises them...
If gov could recreate the specific breeds of dogs in werewolf soldiers... They would find a way.
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if-you-fan-a-fire · 2 years
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“Gets Most Welcome Order,” Windsor Star. May 28, 1942. Page 3. ---- Lieutenant-colonel D. C.. Warnica, officer commanding the 30th Reconnaissance Battalion, is shown above with the most welcome order he has ever received from London headquarters of Military District No. 1. It is the one for the mobilization of the battalion for active service, and appointing him to recruit it. Colonel Warnica is at the left, showing the order to Regimental Sergeant-Major R. W. Gates. Recruiting for the unit will be started immediately, giving district men fit for active service a chance to serve in the most exciting branch of the army and in a home unit under Windsor officers.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months
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omg stop a cap mactavish drabble where they're caught 'n he's gotta keep the reader calm would feed my soul
—Listen To My Voice
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [He orders you to focus on him as the sounds outside the cell get closer. He promises nothing will happen to you. You know he's lying.] ❞
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“Jus’ keep your eyes open and listen to my voice, eh?” The heavy Scottish drawl snaps you back into focus, your head pounding awfully and pain ricocheting up and down your limbs. It’s a stiff and unyielding order. “C’mon now, Sergeant.” 
Coughing, you hack up splatters of blood onto your cargos—hands and arms tied down with rough rope that skins you every time you shift. 
“Fuck,” you mutter, blinking rapidly as the footsteps walk away from your holding cell and disappear with the slam of a far-off door. 
The Captain ahead of you grunts, his hard blue eyes sliding down the wreckage of your uniform; the open wounds and torn fingernails. He doesn’t look much better, truth be told. Your captors had taken pleasure in making you watch the other get brutalized—the vile rage in your eyes yet the inability to do anything. 
It was mental torture as well as physical.
“Oversight ought to know we’re gone,” Soap slides out smoothly, tilting his mohawked head to the side to study the room in casual sweeps, as if not bloodied and broken. “—they’ll be sendin’ out recon teams to scout the area in little under a day. Standard protocol.”
His voice trails, seeing your gaze locked onto the door of the cell, pupils nothing but tiny dots in your burst veins of the once white sclera. Blue finds the way your body shakes, and the man’s large fingers twitch along the arm of his chair.
In the back of his throat, he lets off a rumble and resets his stubbed jaw; the scar along his left eye shifting with his expression. 
“Sergeant,” your face twitches, but you don’t look at him. Inside your chest, your rattling lungs can nearly be heard aloud. 
Captain MacTavish’s lips tighten. “Didn’t I tell you to listen? Pipe up! This is important.” 
Your mind dances between hysterics and the numb oblivion of shock. While Soap had years to adhere to the idea of bare torture—even going through it before—you had no such luck. Experienced with weaponry, yes, but One-Four-One had only taken you on with the idea that you could become better than you already were. 
You’d never gone through an actual interrogation beyond training. 
Fast flinching eyes dart to your superior, chest heaving and adrenaline coating your expression. Blood drips to the floor. 
Soap grinds his teeth and sighs through his nose.
She won’t last like this, he tells himself—blunt and honest. He’d told Price it was a bad idea to let you tag along, and without the reassurance from his fellow, he would have straight-out denied you coming. Too inexperienced. 
This was exactly what he had been worried about. 
But, hell, if that fear in your eyes didn’t make his stomach knot; a heavy rage at the image of your broken skin as all he could do was watch. But it was a silent kind of fury. Weighted with the knowledge of revenge. 
While the man hated dogs, he sure acted like a loyal one. 
“One day,” the Captain tells you—hardened; inflexible. His orbs are like hard steel and his stiff body like rock. “You can take one more day. Just need to focus on me…Copy? I don’t want your eyes to leave me. Not through any of it.”
You push through your haze, staring into his eyes with the vile stench of fear in the air. It was human nature to not want to be harmed. To dread pain and suffering in all senses. 
This man seemed apart from that. 
The Captain grunts, harsher now, “Copy?”
“I-I,” you stutter, lashes fluttering. “I copy, Sir.” 
“Relay.” He barks, watching you closely.
“One day.” Answering immediately, you clear your throat and stifle your whimper of agony—a few of your ribs are broken. “I can make it one more day.”
“Good.” Soap’s accent makes the words clipped and true. Taken as law. “Nothin’ll happen that won’t be repaid. Keep that close, it’ll help.” 
“How many times have you been through this?” Talking helped with the nerves, your focus leaving the sounds in the distant hallways and the loud voices wafting in the vents. The room was cold; you shiver and grimace as your body moved. 
“Too many.” Soap huffs, pulling at his restraints with a heavy hand and growling under his breath when nothing happens. “Comes with the territory, you’ll get used to it.”
You lick your bloodied lips and feel the cuts in them. “...Is that a good or a bad thing, Sir?” 
His lips twitch into a low smirk, shooting you a sly narrowing of his lids. “Well, I’d say that’s up to you now, isn’t it?”
In the grimness and the barbarity, you huff what can be described as a dead woman’s laugh. 
The Captain, still trying to find a loose area of the rope, grits his teeth and utters, “There’ll be no deaths here ‘cept the ones outside this cell, eh? Like I said—focus. When I tell you something, I don’t care how hard it is, you’ll be listenin’ to me. Got that?” 
Footsteps sound up again from beyond, and you tense, eyes flinching wider. Soap grunts out an order and you keep your feral gaze locked on his. Blue eyes bore into you, flaying their meaning deep into your body like you’re made of clay. The uptick in your pulse makes you shake wildly. 
“Keep those eyes right on me. Nothing’s goin' on that’ll kill you, aye?” The door turns and the unlocking of the barrier snaps like electricity up your spine. You want to run, but you know you can’t.
And through it all, you stare straight into Captain MacTavish’s frozen eyes—his strong brow pulled in with authority. He nods his approval with a quick jerk of his head. When the door opens, you can’t help but fear he’s lying.
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brewed-pangolin · 6 months
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Visual prompt for Super Soap Sunday:
On mission you can't stop thinking about Soap's gloved fingers. What to do....what to do....
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Trigger Finger
18+ MDNI: Pretty self explanatory here, folks. Just a quick little drabble. Totally unedited. I'm going down with the ship.
Happy Super Soap Sunday. (And I apologize for this taking FOREVER!)
You couldn't help it. The way your eyes constantly moved to linger over the movements of his gloved fingers over the top of steering wheel. Rhythmically tapping to an unsung beat in his head as you both sat silent in the front of the humvee.
The recon mission was dull. Uneventful and borderline boring, so it was no surprise that your attention would be drawn elsewhere.
And what was worse, is that he caught you staring on more than one occasion, but kept his curious inquiries to himself. Deciding to let it play it out and lure you in further, like a glistening bait to an unattntive fish.
And just when the time was right, when he felt your gaze linger just a bit too long, he'd reel you in with that signature Scottish charm.
"Seein' somethin' ya like, bonnie?"
"What? No." You shot back. His sudden deep brogue breaking your mindless trance. Shifting your gaze away while a soft rouge hue of embarrassment warmed in your cheeks.
"Mhmm. Then why ya keep starin', hm?"
"I wasn't staring. I was..."
You paused. Words suddenly lost. Breath catching in your throat, eyes desperately searching for an answer that was nowhere to be seen. And all the while feeling like a wild animal caught in his perfectly timed trap.
"It was the tapping, okay. That's it."
"Aye. The tapping."
"Keep tellin' yourself that, bonnie."
The uncanny arrogance in his tone was palpable. Confidence smearing over his face as the corner of his mouth curled up at you. He returned to the rhythmic cadence once more, now much more deliberate. Like the beat of a drum beckoning to you from the deep recesses of your mind.
And with that, you finally gave in.
"Goddamit."
"Aye. Goddamit."
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What ensued was nothing short of trigger finger induced ecstasy. Your seat reclined back to its limit, his hand buried deep within the top of your open trousers as his gloved fingers teased along the flesh of your silkened walls. Pumping in and out of your soaked cunt while his thumb relentless circled over your throbbing clit. His movements working in tandem, luring you ever closer to orgasm as you clenched your thighs around his forearm.
"That's right, bonnie. Jus' tappin' that sweet pussy a'yers."
You were done for at that moment. Lost at sea in an ocean of pleasured paradise as he coaxed a delicious moan from between your lips. Your hands gripping into the arm rests as your hips bucked to force him further down to the knuckle. Your walls tightening around him as you rode out your climax against his palm.
And this is how it all started. Day in and day out. While on solo recon missions, his hands would always meander their way into the warm confines between your legs and beckon more of those sweet moans that only he could conjure up. The maestro to your pleasure. And only he could make you sing. And above all, one thing always rang true.
The gloves stayed on.
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Drabbles Masterlist
If you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM. Much love 💛
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@deadbranch @d3athtr4psworld @punishmepunisher @jynxmirage @homicidal-slvt @glitterypirateduck @sofasoap @kkaaaagt @astraluminaaa @strlingsav @macravishedbymactavish @mykneeshurt
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tacticaldiary · 9 months
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Hey there! Love your stuff! I was just reading some of your work for our favorite Scotsman and I was wondering if you would be so kind as to feed me more.
Picture this, Soap and Reader have been a thing since like forever. On the “Alone” mission or something, reader goes on a rampage to find her sweet sweet Johnny.
A Still Beating Heart
Pairing: Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
"Like hell I was leaving you." Clicking her tongue, she shifts her focus on his wound that's bleeding through the hasty patchwork. "Not letting you bleed out now."
"You gonna kiss it better, hen?" A poor attempt at a joke.
"I'll kiss you all you want once we're safe."
A/N: This turned out way longer than I expected-
Masterlist
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Rain obscures her vision as she runs, the image of Johnny hitting the ground after being shot playing over and over again in a dreadful loop.
He got away. He's gotten away. He's alright.
She chants it in her head over and over whilst navigating the winding streets of Las Almas.
"Watch it." Ghost barks yanking her to the side roughly when she almost crashes head-first into a crumbling brick wall. "Get your head on straight, Sergeant." Muted anger coats his words as he spits them out.
She grits her teeth in response, taking a second to survey her surroundings. They've stopped in an alleyway a good chunk of the way into the town. There's no doubt that Graves would be on their heels, they couldn't afford to stop for long.
Leaving two deadly soldiers who are witnesses wouldn't be a risk he'd take.
Three. She reminds herself with a fierce determination. Three soldiers.
How dare he. How fucking dare Graves turn around and betray them like he hadn't been their brother in arms for the last few weeks. The fact that he'd turned on them without remorse, shot her boyfriend without batting an eye was unforgivable.
Rage, hot and fierce scalds the blood running through her veins. Her mind is a storm of conflict, a desperate chant of Johnny's name on repeat. Between the anger, there's the blinding worry that accompanies it. It had all happened so fast she didn't get a chance to see where exactly he got shot, just that he'd fallen with a pained grunt, then Ghost was shouting at him to go.
Part of her rages Ghost him as well, for the way he'd roughly stopped her from lunging into the open to get to Johnny. It's not justified. Ghost had done his job as Lieutenant, had gotten them both and Johnny out of there in time.
Just barely in time.
While Ghost ventures farther into the alley, she clicks on her radio, switching through different channels. "Transmitting in the blind, does anyone copy?" She says into the device, frustrated when there's no answer, she flicks through the channels again and-
A raspy cough, a weak, familiar Scottish drawl.
She switches to it immediately, bringing the radio up to her mouth. "Johnny? I read you." The relief is palpable in her voice, a creature that settles with its claws still out. "What's your location?" She holds her tongue and her questions upon hearing heavy, raspy breaths from the other side. "Johnny?"
"Aye. 'S good to hear your voice." He manages. "I'm in...at the corner of a street. Edge of the town somewhere." There's a grunt from the other end, the rustling of gear and clothing as he sits up. "Is Ghost there?"
"Affirm." Her eyes snap to the man as he talks through his own radio. "There's a Church north side of the city. We'll recon there." His scouting must have resulted in something, then. It's a good plan, she'll admit. A structure with a solid vantage point gated off and less likely to be surrounded with its many exit points. Smart.
"Copy." Johnny's short response makes her frown.
"Can you make it?" She presses him. The short beat of silence has her heart sinking.
"'Course I can." He laughs but it's hollow. "Don't worry your pretty head about it. You'll see me in no time."
"Get moving, Soap." Ghost shuts down the conversation tightly, peering into one of the cracked open doors that lead into what looks like a clothing store. "Stay on my six," He tells her. "It's a straight path there, but we don't have a count on-"
"I'm going fetch him." Ghost exhales slowly, not turning around. "You and I both know he's lost an unknown amount of blood. I'm not risking losing him to that motherfucker." She snarls.
"You don't have his location."
"I'll scour the outskirts until I find him. You provide overwatch from the church. I will find him."
The fire in her eyes, the tight-strung posture...Ghost has little doubt that she would. They meet eyes, but she doesn't back down for a second, daring him to order her otherwise.
Finally after what seems like ages, he jerks his head behind him in silent, begrudging approval. "Thirty minutes, Sergeant."
"I'll only need ten."
                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Tucked behind the counter of a grocery store, Soap clenches his jaw as footsteps pass through the window above him. This entire situation was a shit show.
The sting of betrayal was almost as painful as the insistent throbbing on his shoulder. He's already sure the bullet is lodged in there from the quick once-over he gave himself. Admittedly, it had taken him longer than he expected to get his bearings. Judging by the puddle of blood he woke up in, he'd already lost a good amount of blood before he'd roughly packed the still gushing wound.
Guerrilla warfare was bloody and made something vile crawl through Soap's veins. Every time he ties together rope and metal to pry open a door, or fashions a bomb out of a mousetrap, he can't help but think of the bodies he'd encountered on his path to the church. Children, women, men...nobody was spared by those fuckers.
It was vile, a kind of justice he didn't enlist to take part in. The very thing he's sworn to protect people against...
Soap is snapped out of his thoughts by Ghost's voice. They'd had some back and forth whilst they were moving, and Soap knows it's partly to keep him alert and present. Underneath Ghost's rough words, there was always a twinge of worry lacing his tone only someone familiar with the exact lilt of his mannerisms would pick up.
Once the footsteps recede, Soap groans quietly, pushing himself up to his feet with help from the wall. His legs protest, his arms ache and a deep exhaustion infects his mind, begs him to sit down for a few minutes and let go.
In an attempt to shake off the thoughts, he takes a deep breath and reaches for his radio to hear the one voice that always makes him snap to attention.
Soap's been thanking whoever was up there that she'd ended up safe with Ghost. It didn't ease his worry but it soothed it into something more bearable. She wasn't incapable by any means, but even the strongest person benefitted by someone equally capable by their side.
God, he hopes he reaches the church before he collapses.
Swaying suddenly, Soap curses under his breath and reaches to grab the counter to steady himself. In his haste, his arm crashes against a vase, sending it crashing to the ground.
The noise is accompanied by the yells of Shadows outside the store. Soap barely has time to curse himself out and make a lunge for the stairs before the soldier from before peers into the store, rifle at the ready.
Gunfire rains down on him, grazing his arm when he presses himself behind a brick pillar for cover.
Fuck. Fuck.
Sweat beads down his back as he struggles to keep himself upright, shaky fingers patting down his pocket for the knife he'd yanked out of a soldier's head an hour ago...has it been an hour? He doesn't know anymore.
Cautious steps approach him, his heart pounding against his chest as adrenaline pushes itself through his system.
It was strike now or get struck down. The element of surprise was the only advantage he had. His shoulder aches like a bitch but he sucks it up and tightens his grip around his knife.
It all happens at the same time.
Soap lunges out of his hiding spot, weapon raised as much as the fuzz around his vision will let him.
And he watches as someone else tackles the Shadow to the ground.
Soap stops in his tracks, tensing at the vicious way she slits the man's throat. Familiar hair, a body he's mapped out with his hands and mouth over and over again.
Her gaze snaps up to meet his, a shock down his spine.
"For someone so loud, you're good at staying hidden." She huffs, wiping the blood off of her cheek.
No. No, she couldn't be here. She was supposed to be with Ghost, not roaming the streets crawling with Shadows for...
For him.
The thought warms him from the inside out despite the situation. Who the hell is he kidding? He would have done the exact same thing for her.
The moment her hands touch his arms, all the energy seems to snap out of him. Johnny's knees give out, her hands barely catching him to lower him gently to the ground.
"Shit, Johnny?" Panic laces her voice. A hand slick with blood cups his cheek, slaps it gently to prompt his eyes to flutter open. "You gotta stay awake, okay baby? Come on." She doesn't relent until he listens, a hazy gaze focused on her.
"Ya shouldn't be here." He rasps out.
"Like hell I was leaving you." Clicking her tongue, she shifts her focus on his wound, bleeding through the hasty patchwork. "Not letting you bleed out now."
"You gonna kiss it better, hen?" A poor attempt at a joke.
"I'll kiss you all you want once we're safe." Hooking his uninjured arm over her shoulder, she helps her stand. Her heart clenches at the pained groan he tries to muffle. It's good that she had the sense to come back for him.
She doesn't want to think what might have happened if she'd been a second too late.
"That a promise?"
"A threat." She corrects as they stumble towards the backdoor. The weak snort she gets in response is more than enough to loosen the knot in her chest an inch.
Soap's laugh dies in his throat when they hit the streets.
"Jesus fucking Christ." He mumbles, looking around at the roads bathed in crimson.
Bodies and bodies of Shadows lay scattered around almost every alleyway they hobble through. Peeks through to the main roads show the same results. Black masked figures slumped over, limbs twisted and odd angles, necks slit open brutally.
"Had some fun getting to me, did ya?"
There's no response from her but a shrug.
There's no sorrow or remorse for what she had to do to get to him. A mantra of his name playing through her head, the desperation of getting to him and the rage of the situation mixed together had made each swipe of her knife, each broken bone easy.
She's painted the town red.
Johnny. She needed to get to Johnny and whoever was standing in her way had met their demise by viscous hands and an unforgiving sentence.
"I'm surprised you made it that far on your own." Keeping him talking was important. "Graves will face hell for what he's done." They duck into a street, the church in plain view.
"It's a bleedin' a war crime." Soap says. "Makes me want to commit a few of my own." His voice dips down to a growl. She shares the same sentiment.
"Amen." She mumbles back, peering out into the courtyard in front of them. A couple of figures patrol the area, breaking off of each other to peer behind parked vehicles and doors to different shops.
"Four hostiles in our path." A grimace. She gently lowers him down against the stone wall. "Stay here while I clear our path... not that you can go anywhere, actually."
Soap seems displeased about her going off on her own, but he knows that he's more of a liability than an advantage in a situation where stealth is valued. "Take 'em quietly."
"Copy." Her bloody knife spins in her hand. "Be right back, baby." Pressing a kiss to his temple, she slips out of the alley.
Johnny breathes out a shaky sigh, and lets his head hit the stone behind him. Itchy and restless from being able to do nothing, he loathes feeling so...useless. He's confident in her, how could anyone not be? But that doesn't quell the need to shield her from everything he can spare her from.
She was fiery and bright, everything he'd always wanted. She came into his life as a force to be reckoned with, butting heads with him and throwing insults back at his face as easily as he uttered them to her.
Love had hit him hard.
Stuck in his head, his eyes flutter shut against his wishes as he thinks. Just for moment, he tells himself. Just until she gets back.
Just a second of rest wouldn't hurt, right?
Somewhere in the depth of his mind, he knows that letting himself fall unconscious was the worst possible case in this scenario, but he couldn't have stopped himself if he tried. The blood loss makes him tired and lethargic and before long he's fallen into the inky depth of sleep.
                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
It had all gone to shit.
Three of the four guards she'd taken down quickly. It had been almost easy how fast and quiet they went down, gurgling on their own blood as her knife slid across the chinks in their armour, the skin of their necks.
The third guard had been a little too trigger-happy, though. A twitch of his finger while he was choking had set his gun going off with a bang, a bullet embedded into one of the cars nearby.
It had been enough to alert every goddamn person in the vicinity.
She's glad she left Johnny behind, at least his position wasn't compromised.
Just as the street started filling up, her radio had crackled to life, Ghost barking that the church had been compromised and overrun, ordering them to meet him at the end of the street to secure a vehicle.
She was already there, all she had to do was keep her position and stop the Shadows from flanking her until Ghost got there.
"Copy." She mutters into the radio, setting up the rifle she'd swiped from one of the corpses over the hood of the cars she's ducked behind. "Eyes on a possible vehicle." She relays over comms upon setting sight on a blue truck close to her, relatively unscratched. Firing off round after round, the soldiers drop like flies. The armoured ones are a little tougher to deal with, and need a more precise aim but she manages somehow.
She curses under her breath as more of the pour from the stores and alleys into the streets.
Just a little longer. Ghost was almost here, then they could secure a vehicle, grab Johnny and get the fuck out of here.
Wrecking carnage in his path, Ghost emerges from behind a barrier after what seems like an hour, and together the both of them climb into the truck she informed him of. "Stop by the far alley and I'll haul Soap inside so we can get the hell out of here." She grunts, firing off shots from the back of the truck as Ghost starts the ignition.
She gets an affirmative and they're on their way, ducking at the sound of gunfire and barked orders following them.
She jumps out of the truck and runs into the alley where she left him. "Time to go Johnny, come-..." She halts in her tracks, into a dead stop at the scene in front of her.
Blood splatters the wall behind his shoulder, the wound aggravated and bleeding through the improvised bandaging in rivers of red down his arm. He's...he's pale, shallow gasps of breaths that are barely there making his chest move in movements too small to be healthy.
Ghost yells at her to make it quick, and it's her Lieutenant's voice that brings her crashing back to reality. Swallowing back her panic, she hoists Johnny up and drags him into the back of the truck, yelling at Ghost to move as she lays him down as still as possible.
Bullets ping off of the metal, but all she can focus on is pressing her hands to Soap's wound. She leans in close to feel him puffing out short gasps of air.
Still breathing, she tells herself as Ghost makes a sharp turn. He's alive, he's breathing, he's here, he's not dead. Alive, alive, still alive.
With hands shaky, she pulls out a proper roll of gauze from her vest, the emergency first aid pouch she carries is worth its weight in gold.
"Don't you fucking die on me, baby." She whispers, voice cracking. "It's not allowed." She wipes the worst of the wound with disinfectant before packing the hole with fresh gauze.
There was so much blood pooling beneath him in that alley...and how much had he lost before that?
He needed a medic, and fast. She wouldn't lose him. Not him.
Not her Johnny.
Not the person that could coax a smile out of her even if she was in the foulest of moods. Not Johnny, who always seemed to know what she needed, what made her feel better. Not the love of her life who she'd seen a life out of the military with.
Please, not him.
Time flies by and soon, Ghost pulls over in front of a safehouse. When he exits the driver's seat and comes round the back to asses the situation, his heart sinks as he finds her curled up over Soap, lips pressed to his forehead as she whispers to him, her hand carding through his dirty hair as if he might wake up to feel it.
"Let's get him inside." He says, tone oddly sombre. If he notices how wet her eyes are, he doesn't comment on it, merely helps her carry him in silence.                                   · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Rudy had been a godsend. His safe house had been packed with supplies much more useful to Soap. He'd taken one look at Soap, at her wrecked and frantic state, and taken over. Ordering her and Ghost to start studying the maps to the facility they planned to break into, he started his own inspection of Soap.
She can't focus.
The maps mean nothing to her. The lines, the marks, the circles. It was meaningless gibberish to her when her boyfriend was-
"He'll pull through." She blinks back into the present at Ghost's gruff voice, head snapping up to meet his gaze.
"He better." A shaky inhale.
                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
When Rudy comes back to inform them that Soap is stable, her legs nearly buckle under her with a wave of relief. She pushes past him immediately to seek her boyfriend out, and finds him laying on one of the old cots pushed to the corner.
She takes a seat on the floor next to him, resting her head against the mattress. "You're an asshole." She mumbles after a second. "Scared the shit out of me, you know that?"
He probably can't hear her, but it doesn't stop her frayed nerves from talking. Her hand finds his and she squeezes it gently trying to bring some of her warmth into his cold skin. Sighing, she presses his hand to her forehead, shifting her grip so her fingers rested on his pulse.
Each steady beat loosens the knot in her chest, reassures her that he is alive.
Would he wake up soon? Would he wake up at all? The latter thought is quickly chased away, because there was no choice. Johnny had to wake up, he had to.
A world without him simply wasn't one worth having.
                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Her back aches.
Forehead pressed into the mattress right by his waist, it's the first thing she registers as she's roused from where she'd dozed off. Blinking sluggishly, she groans as she feels a hand carding through her hair.
Just the right pressure, the feeling so familiar and warm and soothing-
Her eyes widen and she snaps up straight to meet a pair of tired but amused blue eyes studying her. Johnny's sitting up right in front of her, looking down at her in that soft way he always did.
"Rise and shine." He rasps out, and she almost sobs at the sound. Pushing herself to her feet, she wraps her arms around him the best she can without injuring him. "Easy." He winces at being jostled but holds her just as tight.
"Thought you were gone." She chokes out, trembling. "I thought-"
"I'm right here, bonnie." He whispers into her hair. "Right with ya. Gonna take more than that to do me in, right?"
She laughs wetly into his shoulder, as he runs a hand up and down her back as if she was the one who needed comforting.
Pulling herself together was a more difficult task than clearing the streets of Las Almas. Every time she thinks she's calmed down, she remembers how still and cold Johnny had been and she spirals all over again.
He clicks his tongue and manoeuvres them gently so he's laying down with her on his chest, careful to avoid his good arm. Her head is pressed against the centre of his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat a balm against the rising and falling cycle of panic and grief she's stuck in.
Alive, alive, alive. Still alive.
Once her breathing evens out into something relatively stable, she tries to speak again. "Don't scare me like that again."
He hums. "I'll do better next time." A tired smile grows on his face as she pinches his side.
Alive.
He was still alive.
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(3/09/2023)
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prismuffin · 1 year
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Hey!! Can I request a top male reader x Price. Reader is new to the 141 team, Laswell recruited him for the team. Little does the team know Price and reader are married, they do know that Price is married tho. The team finds out when they catch a shirtless, pants-undone Male Reader literally on top of Price, who is shirtless, only in boxers, and covered in hickeys (They were being a little too loud).
A/n: KSKSJFHSKFJHSJ YESSSS ugh he has no right to be that hot idk- also the gif>>>>
“PRICE?!”
John Price x top!male!reader
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( summary: after hearing their captain's groans of pain throughout base they rush to his room only to see him underneath you, definitely not in pain )
warnings?: light swearing, light smut but it's not directly talked about
C/n means code name!
!-!more under the cut!-!
The team waited patiently as Laswell left to go grab who was supposed to be their newest recruit. She seemed to be almost laughing to herself as she described your skills and explained why you'll be a great asset to the team. For once, Price was actually unsure about who this new recruit could be, but they seemed to be well trained and very skilled from what he can gather. The door opened again, and their attention snapped to it as Laswell walked in with their newest recruit. "Boys, meet Y/n L/n, otherwise known as C/n." Price almost audibly gasped at the sight of you. His husband. Is that why Laswell was laughing? Cause she knew the whole time? "C/n? How'd you get that name?" Soap's Scottish accent cut through the room and you chuckled, "You don't wanna know." A smirk found it's way to your face as your eyes scanned over the team before landing on Price. You stared at him as Laswell introduced everyone, telling you their names and ranks, though you didn't seem to care about anyone but Price, which the team noticed. They decided not to think much of it, and some really didn't care at all (I'm looking at you Ghost).
After the meeting, Price was assigned to show you around, and by that I mean he volunteered. "I just can't believe you didn't tell me you were switching!" He whisper yelled to you as you walked together. There was a hint of amusement in his voice though he did seem to be at least a little mad at you. "What can I say? I just wanted to spend more time with my husband." You stopped walking, grabbing his waist slowly while smirking. He was quick to swat your hands away and you pouted, "What? You didn't miss me at all?" You faked a hurt expression but smiled when John rolled his eyes playfully. "Of course I miss you, I just wish I'd have gotten a bit of a bloody warnin eh?" You crossed your arms and shrugged, "Laswell thought it'd be funny." He scoffed muttering an "unbelievable," as he began walking again. You chuckled and smirked as you caught up to him, slapping his ass. He gasped and hit your arm which hurt more than you'd like to admit. You said sorry even though you clearly weren't and attempted to grab his hand only to get slapped away. You attempted again and he denied once more, that didn't stop you from trying the entire rest of the time you guys walked around base, he settled with holding your pinkie whenever no one else was in sight.
It's been about a week since you join 141 and you've mostly made friends with everyone. You'd heard a lot about Gaz from your husband so it was easy to click with him when you brought up stuff you knew he'd relate to. Soap was just easy to get along with in general and that Ghost guy is someone you're still working on. Either way currently the team had just gotten back from a small mission, they’d left both you and Price back at base for recon. After the mission was done they’d said their goodbyes over comms and took their short flight back to base. Walking in from the hanger, they all chatted - though it was mostly Gaz and Soap, Ghost didn’t mind listening in. “Aw man you should’ve seen that guys face when he realized he was out of bullets!” Gaz laughed with Soap, even Ghost let out a silent nose laugh at the two. “Yo y’alright lad?” Soap asked as he noticed that gaz had stopped laughing. “Did you hear that?” He asked and Soap slowly shook his head. “Lt?” Soap questioned and Ghost also shook his head. “Maybe you’re hearing things mate-“ Soap stopped talking abruptly as what sounded like a groan rang through the halls. “See there it is again!” “Ohhh yeah I heard that one! Ey LT, wanna check it out?” Soap shot Ghost a grin and he huffed.
“Ahh, shit-“ “Sounds like Price-“ Ghost said only to be cut off by Gaz. “You think he’s hurt?” “Doubt he’s hurt, sounds more like-“ Gaz hurried off causing Soap to laugh as Ghost sighed, following the two as they speed walk through the halls. Their captains groans only got louder the closer they got, curses being added in sometimes here and there. As they neared the shut door to Price’s room Gaz began walking a bit faster, obviously worried for his father friend. A “MmmphFuck- Y/n~” stopped Soap in his tracks, “wait that doesn’t sound like-“ Gaz busted the door open, his jaw dropping as he took in the sight before him. Price was stripped down to nothing but his boxers, his neck and chest and the inner bits of his thighs were covered in purple bruises. You hovered on top of him, pants unbuttoned, staring at the three new guests that entered the room. “Ahh shit I thought I locked the door..” they heard you mumble, all three of their eyes wide in shock.
“PRICE?!”
Gaz yelling seemingly knocked everyone (but you) out of their shocked trances. “Christ!” John shot up, bumping into your form, causing you to stumble back, gripping at the bed as to not fall. “Oh. Ohohoho-“ Soap started as he looked between the both of you. Soon after, he busted out laughing and unlike before he was the only one doing so. “Respectfully Sir, what the actual hell did I just walk in on?” Ghost spoke over Soaps loud laughter and Price could do nothing but stutter out useless excuses. “Aren’t you married?!” Gaz yelled and Soap immediately stopped laughing at that. “Ohhhhh Captain, cheating on your spouse? Not cool,” Soap looked shocked and you smirked, looking between both parties. “I’m not cheating on my-“ “Not cheating?! You’re practically naked and being fondled by this- this- new guy!” Gaz almost looked betrayed as he held his arm out towards your figure to emphasize his point. You failed to stifle a laugh and Price shot you an unimpressed look. “Gaz, calm down im not cheating on my Husband, he is my husband.” You nodded and both Soap and Gaz looked between each other. “Huh??” “Yup, it’s true I married this old guy.” You crossed your arms and jumped, feeling Price pinch you teasingly for your choice of words. “Wait so- your husband joined the team and you two didn’t say anything?!” Soap asked and you laughed, “I thought it’d be funny.” Price sighed, “It wasn’t relevant information at the time.” You shot him a false betrayed look as Gaz and Soap went silent. A deep chuckle from behind the two caught everyone attention. Simon “Ghost” Riley stood there, shoulders bouncing in what appeared to be silent laughter. “Fucking ‘ell, you lot really are something else.” He muttered and Soap’s face broke out into a grin as he started to laugh again. “I can’t believe I didn’t know.” Gaz spoke and you scoffed with a roll of your eyes. “Yeah yeah, this is all very funny but if you’ll excuse me I’d like to go back to what I was doing.” You motioned your head towards Price with a wide smirk as his face started turning red. Gaz looked borderline mortified and was quick to leave, Ghost and Soap following shortly after, though not without Soap throwing you a wink from over his shoulder.
Price groaned after the door shut, flopping backwards onto the bed with his face placed in his hands. You grabbed one, pulling it off of his face before planting a soft kiss to his cheek with a chuckle. "Sorry love, I could've sworn I locked the door." He sighed, "It's fine, s'not entirely your fault I was kind of being loud..." He mumbled and you laughed, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Do you want to continue?" You asked, not so subtly grinding your hips down to resume the previous friction. He let out a breathy moan at the feeling before staring into your eyes and nodding slowly. Your face broke out into a grin as you leaned up a bit more, pulling his other hand away from his face and planting a proper kiss to his lips. That night, Price had tried to keep it down though with practically everyone already knowing what you both were up to there was really no point.
----!----
Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!
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imbeingchokeholded · 9 months
Text
Getting Clean
I need to be put into jail, stupid Scottish bitch.
Anyway this is probably lowkey just gonna be smut completely lmao.
I promise the soap pun titles will end.
Also so sorry this took so long because my mind is an enigma and writing for either the COD fandom or the RDR2 fandom has been deleted out of my mind.
Lets go lmao
WARNINGS!: female reader because im a woman and soap makes me yell real loud (nothing against him being shipped with male readers or 141, good for him what a king), NSFW, fuckin, im so bad at warnings just know its gonna be fuckin happenin, choking?? Voice kink???? Breeding kink for SURE. Just major NSFW basically porn with negative plot. Like... .5 plot.
Scottish slang/words may be inccorect due to using google, so please lemme know if its wrong, I'll happily fix it.
I am so sorry for spelling mistakes i finished this at like 2am
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The mess hall seemed way too empty, everyone was out on missions, covert, recon, whatever, and while there was a shit ton of others there on base, without most of the 141 team it just felt....wrong.
You sigh and look at your food. It's not that it's bad food. In fact, it looks delicious, but sitting alone, at this massive table that usually you shared with Ghost, Gaz, Rudy and Alejandro, as well as Soap, just made you feel...down.
They were easily the people you were closest too on base. Working so closely with them it was only a matter of time before it happened. All of you were close friends, it was rare for any of you to stray from the group and talk to anyone else.
So today, sitting in the mess hall, was no different.
You stare at the food a little longer, and poke it around with your fork, that strange foreign feeling in your chest.
"Aye Lass, lookin' at it like tha' cannaé change how it tastes."
You smile and twist your head to look at Soap as he nears the table, a tray of food of his own in his hands.
"Johnny! I didn't know you were here!" You smile wider as he takes a seat next to you, and chuckle as he takes a bite of food from his tray.
"Ah, I jus' got back from a mission not too long ago, Price is givin' me a wei break."
You nod and smile at him, your heart seems a little lighter now, someone who you're far closer to now with you.
Plus it was Johnny, how could you not be happy around him? He was the obnoxious fun loving one of the group, he could be serious yes, but it was rare. Most days he joked, laughed, spat out witty sarcastic comments at everyone who passed.
You supposed that was part of the reason you'd grown to have such deep feelings for him in the first place.
Of course you'd never tell him that, you were far too nervous to do that.
Handsome, sweet, a deep voice, which had a Scottish accent on top of it? You could listen to him speak about nonsense for the entire day.
Sometimes missions with him were absolute hell.
He did his job, he was a good Sargent, he knew what he was doing, trained properly, getting things done the way they needed to, but his commentary....
That damn voice of his, he didn't even need to be next to you, all he needed was that voice and his stupid little sarcastic quips.
Hell, sometimes it wasn't even in comms.
He'd yell out something simple, that shouldn't have been attractive, yet it was.
Something as simple as "Changing mags!" Could make your face heat up and turn a violent red, hell, he basically growled at the end of the sentence whenever he said it. Being near him was almost like having a bomb strapped to your chest. Threatening to go off at any second.
Everytime he said "Steamin' Jesus" you couldn't help but imagine him using it in a far more intimate senario, with a slight change of tone, and that never failed to send a flood of warmth between your legs.
You swore that he knew what he was doing too, like he could sense the tension between the two of you, or see the red on your face, but if he did he never brought it up, and for that you were thankful.
Trying to explain fraternization to Price would not be a fun experience. Not only that but bringing it up would probably make you flustered beyond speaking ablity.
"Hey, Y/N. I been talkin' yer fuckin' ear off, you still listenin'?"
You shake your head and look at him, your face feels hot and you're sure you're crimson.
"Ye alright Lass?"
That stupid nickname makes the blush worsen and you simply clear your throat.
"I'm fine Soap. Thinking."
"You can call me Johnny off duty." He laughs. "You usually do....ya nervous about something? Just a wei bit?"
His voice carries a bit of teasing tone and you can't help but feel a bit if irritation at the smug bastard.
"Not nervous, no."
"Ah, not nervous, yet red in the face....Aye...I got yer number bonnie."
He snorts and then continues to eat.
"Really?" You cross your arms and look at him. "Do you now MacTavish?"
"Pretty obvious if you ask me." He shrugs.
"Okay, so tell me then."
Your face burns at the sudden burst of confidence, and as a smirk crosses over Johnny's face you suddenly feel very foolish about what you've just said.
"Lass...tha's not very appropriate for me to say here, where anyone could hear....now is it?"
That smirk stays on his face as he lowers his voice to a low whisper as he gets the last few words out.
You swallow, and your face burns deeper.
"I don't know what you mean Johnny."
"I'm sure." He offers you a laugh and then stands, the look in his eyes makes your body shiver. "I think I'll head to my room...feel free to...visit, if you'd like."
You watch as he walks off as though nothing had happened and your entire body seems to shiver.
He sticks his hands in his jean pockets as he walks away, which you obviously noticed, because of course you did, with an ass like his.
What the hell are you gonna do? Follow him? How the hell did he figure you out so quickly? Did he mean what he said?
Little did you know Johnny was thinking similarly.
"What the hell were you thinkin'? Saying somethin' like that? Y/N does NOT feel that way about you, you probably just fucked somethin' up, fuckin' idiot."
It takes you only a matter of minutes before you stand from the table and head after Johnny, towards his room in the base.
Your heart is thumping so loudly its the only thing you can hear.
Your body seems to be reacting on its own though, your thoughts, while dirty and definetly in need of some....cleaning....ironically, are wondering what'll happen to your friendship afterwards, but your body doesn't seem to care.
Your mind races with the thought of what would happen if you were caught too, it wasn't exactly professional to fuck your coworker in the military.
When you reach his door you breathe deeply, hesitant as you raise your hand to the door. You stopped for a moment and then, you knock on the door.
Johnny opens the door nearly instantly, only a matter of seconds pass before the door knob clicks and he stands in the doorway before you, leaning against the doorframe as he looks down at you.
"Tha' was quick Lass."
"Shut up, let me in."
"Aw...c'mon now...be nice..." He lowers his voice, whispering the last two words, a smug smirk coming over his mouth.
You feel a rush of heat through your chest and look to your feet, your entire face seems to burn, your ears even feel as though they're burning.
"Please Johnny?"
You feel his hand come under your chin and he lifts your head to look him in the eye, not gently but not rough either.
"Try again Lass, look me in the eye."
Fuck fuck fuck fuck
"Please let me in, you stupid Scottish fuck."
"Tha's not very nice...thought I said be nice..."
You clench your jaw and stare at him, that smug grin on his face somehow managing to irritate you and make you horny all at the same time.
"Please Johnny? Let me in?"
"Ye really do want me, don't ye? Dinnaé know you felt so strongly towards me.." He smirks at you and the moves aside, dropping his hand from your chin to let you in.
You look around his room, staring at all the posters and things he has lined up on the walls. Considering this was Johnny's room....you expected it to be far dirtier, less organized, yet as you looked around at the rest of his room you noticed everything had a place, everything was neat, he didn't even have dirty clothes on the floor.
Neat and organized....despite his very chaotic and uncooridinated nature.
You're busy looking this over, viewing his room when he comes up behind you.
He leans in close.
"So, you were havin' thoughts then?" He smirks, you can feel it without even looking at him. "You? Havin' thoughts...innocent little Y/N always focused on the job Y/N....havin' thoughts like those....and about me..."
His voice lowers, it's nearly a growl, and a hand wraps around your waist, his fingers slide gently under the bottom of your shirt, touching the bare skin of your stomach, only just barely.
"Naughty...naughty..."
You look down, your face is completely red, scarlet, and it burns hotter than you thought possible.
By looking down you didn't really account for the fact that, that would only leave your neck open, and it takes all your will power you have not to make a sound when you feel Johnny's lips agains the skin there.
"I'm suprised it took you this long to notice Johnny." You breathe out, hoping your voice wouldn't give out on you.
He stops, his lips still gently placed against your skin as he speaks.
"Really now....been very noticable has it Hen?"
The nickname sends a shiver though your spine, though you know the word itself isn't the issue.
"I think so..." You breathe. "Can't you tell when my voice changes over comms sometimes?"
"Ye get that flustered...over comms? Ye don't even see me.."
He chuckles and presses another kiss to your neck, you're sure the next one he offers will be brusing.
"Not my fault..." You mumble. You've almost collapsed against him, leaning your body weight onto him, though he doesn't mind in the slightest.
"Really now...now...can ye explain to me what it is on comms that makes things so hard to focus then Hen?"
"Why must you make things difficult?"
"Difficult?"
He laughs at you and then stands up straight, his hand leaving the skin of your stomach.
He moves to his bed and takes a seat, nearly plopping down, he sits with his legs open and slaps both hands on his thighs, leaning forwards.
"It isn't difficult, it's a really easy question now Lass."
You cross your arms and look at him, watching as he leans back a little a simple smirk on his face.
"If ye really want somethin' tonight Y/N, yer gonnae have to tell me."
That smug look doesn't leave his face, rather it seems like it only gets worse as he utters out your name, emphasising it, lowering his voice as he does. To add to this you watch as his hands leave his thighs, palms upwards in a sort of shrug gesture.
He knows what gets you flustered over comms. He knows, you know he knows, but you also know he's gonna make you say it.
"You damn well know what it is Johnny."
"Oh I do, but it'll be much better when it comes out of yer mouth, preferrably with your face all red."
You swallow and look to the floor, keeping your arms crossed as you speak.
"I swear sometimes you do it on purpose. You do those damn jokes, say those fucking statements and you always lower your voice, especially if you know I'm listening. I told you how I liked your accent ONCE and now you use it everytime you can."
"Aye, I do." Again, as before, you can hear that smirk on his face. "I'll admit it. I take every chance I can."
You scrunch up your nose, refusing to look up at him.
Theres silence for a moment and then you hear him shuffle, only then do you look up.
He simply catches your gaze and makes a motion towards himself with his two middle fingers, pretty much beckoning you towards him.
Despite the stubborness you've shown earlier you can't help but follow his silent command.
As you reach him and stand inbetween his legs his hands creep over your thighs, fingers curling around the back of them, squeezing the meat of them, tightly, firmly. Just the right amount of pressure.
He looks up at you, his face a little more serious now, the smirk from earlier still lingers, but it's far less noticable.
"Ye know Y/N, I've thought about having you in here....a lot."
"Really?" You stop a moment, your body tingling, stemming from his fingertips outwards. Your mind seems a little fogged. "I thought....I thought maybe you'd invited me in here today just to...well honestly I thought you were just fucking with me Johnny, but...I couldn't just ignore it."
"Nae, no fuckin'with you, no this time."
"So...does...um...does that mean..." You swallow, struggling with your words. "Look....Johnny I think it's obvious I've liked you for a while now...are...if we're really gonna do this...I...what does it mean? Anything? Just...are we fuck buddies, or something more because...."
Your words trail off, you can't help but cross your arms, a sudden burst of what you can only assume is nearly shame creeps up through you.
Johhny's face changes, subtly, but you catch it, and you don't miss the squeeze he gives your thighs either.
"Hen, once I get a taste of you I don't think I could have anyone else."
He's quick with his movements as he slides his hands up towards your ass, and pushes you slightly closer to himself.
The action he does next is a simple one, yet it sends all kinds of feelings through you.
His tongue touches the skin of your stomach, his hand gently pushing your shirt up out of the way. He licks a stripe upwards, keeping eye contact with you as he does.
"Jesus Johnny...."
He offers a chuckle and grips your hip with his free hand just a little tighter.
"I'm gonna ask this once Bonníe," he looks at you, only a small trace of a smile on his lips. "Are ye sure ye wanna do this? I'll stop if ye say stop, but after this I won't ask again."
Your thoughts swirl in your head for a moment. Wondering if it is what you wanted. If it was worth chancing your friendship, chancing your job, getting caught fraternizing is no small penalty.
In the end your body decides for you.
You nod.
"I do."
That smile of his fits on his face slowly, showing off those pearly whites. His surprisingly sharp canines.
His tongue comes out once more, again licking up your stomach, this time he stands as he moves himself upwards, only bringing his mouth away when he reaches the area just below your breasts, letting your shirt fall back to its original place.
When he finally stands his mouth goes into good use, his lips meeting yours with a feverancy, practically a need. He fists your hair, and darts his tongue into your mouth without any hesitance.
His free hand snakes around your body, finding purchase on the plump of your asscheek.
You let out a moan against his lips which in turn pulls one from him.
Your hands wrap around the back of his neck, grabbing onto any part of him you can.
His hand nestled within your hair offers a tug, pulling your head back, taking your lips from his and exposing your neck to him.
His lips latch onto your throat, open mouthed hot kisses against your skin, making your body shiver, tingle. His tongue licks along your skin, warm, and again...hungry.
"Johnny..." You whine out his name, and your body flames up, a part of you is curious as to how he'd gotten you so needy so quickly.
The other part did not give a shit.
"So pretty when you whine like that Bonníe..."
He smiles against your skin, moving towards your jaw, still dragging his lips along your neck, refusing to leave it.
"Maybe we should see if I can get any more out of ye..."
"Johnny...we have to be careful..." You mumble. "We...we can't be caught-"
"Yer right Lass...that might even be more fun..."
He pulls back to look at you, his eyes seemed to darken with the idea that begins to plauge his mind.
"Let's see if ye can keep from screamin' huh?"
"Johnny-"
He cuts you off as his hand come up around your throat, offering a gentle squeeze to the sides as he begins to push you down to the bed.
"Do yer best for me Love." He gives you that goddamn smirk again. "Stay quiet...Can ye do that?"
You nod, your breathing becoming heavier as he stares down at you, hand still wrapped around your throat.
"Atta girl."
He coos out the words and everything in your body seems to be completely englufed in flame.
"You this charming to every girl you fuck Johnny?"
You breathe out the words, hands moving to his chest as you settle against the mattress.
"Jus' you Lass."
Rough hands slide under your shirt, over your stomach, bringing the shirt along with him.
His thumb glides up the center of your torso, pushing down slightly as he continues his movement, his other hand only leaves your throat when he needs to remove the shirt fully.
Your bra is taken off with seemingly expert practice, your breasts exposed to the air, but quickly they're found by hands and mouth.
A rough palm on one and a wet mouth sucking and licking the other.
It takes all your power not to moan, your back arching up into the feeling.
You hadn't been aware of just how touch starved you'd been.
One of your hands tangles into his mohawk, attempting to hold onto something of him.
He looks up at you, pulling away from your breasts.
"Nae, I dinnae say ye could touch lass."
"Johnny-"
"Shut tha' pretty mouth lass...see if ye can be quiet yeah?"
You nod, swallowing as he reaches for your pants. His fingers hooking under the waistband as he unbuttons them with the other.
With one swift movement he's pulled both your jeans and panties down, leaving you bare to him.
"Would ye look at tha'...such a bonnie sigh', Love..."
He smirks and moves in, hands finding your inner thighs, bringing a sigh from your lips.
Before you can say much else you feel a swipe of his tongue over your heat, already you were slick, this was certain to make the problem worse.
His grip on your inner thighs gets a little tighter as he continues with you, he moves his tongue with expertise, eating you out as though he's a man starved.
"Johnny..."
You can't help but let his name slip out, grabbing the sheets beneath you, squirming your hips against his face.
He looks up at you from his position, and even in his eyes you can see the smirk he'd wear.
It's far too soon that he pulls away, you'd been so close to your climax, so close to having that release, until he'd denied you that.
Again you whine his name, and he moves, climbing over you, grabbing your face with one hand, firmly holding your cheeks.
"Aw lass...wei bonnie...are ye feelin' a wei bit needy?"
You nod, the best you can in his grip, moving your hips against his clothed arousal, hoping for even a little bit of friction.
You give a nother small whine, this one more of a sound than that of a noise, again reaching for him, only for his other hand to pin your wrists above you.
"Ah...I told ye, nae touchin' lass"
You simply look at him, unable to do much in your senario. It's then that he kisses you, deeply, his tongue gliding against yours, the taste of your own slick in your mouth.
He lets go of your face, only to rushedly un button his pants, his problem suddenly a bit more annoying than it had been.
The moment he's free, his pants and boxers disgarded he simply looks down at you, seemingly thinking.
Its then that he grabs you by the hips and easily, effortlessly, flips you onto your stomach, running his pointer finger and thumb down your spine for a moment.
"Ye look so good from this angle love..."
He leans over you, his chest to your back, head angled right next to your ear.
He lowers that damn voice of his again.
"Can ye be a good lass fer me and arch jus' a wei bit... chest down love, ass up."
Of course you do as he asks, or rather tells, like its instinct, pressing your chest further into the bed, raising your rear higher into the air.
He leans back, taking a look at the sight in front of him, his hands going to the flesh of your ass like magnets, squeezing gently, your ass and hips, as though he can't decide which he likes better.
"Look at ye...such an obediant little lass...ye like doin' what yer told do ye? Is tha' why ye like rankin' under me? Enjoy the way I order ye around on the field? Makes ye think..."
You don't answer, focused on the feel of his hands, its only when he moves one of those hands to the back of your neck.
"I need an answer lass."
"Yes, yes I do Sir."
You can nearly feel the smirk on his face, he squeezes the back of your neck a little tighter.
"Sir?"
"Yes sir."
"Oho...I like tha' lass..."
He grabs both of your asscheeks again for a moment before you feel one leave only to feel him push into you.
You let out a groan as he pushes in, as much as you can take, to the base, you feel incredibly full. He's girthy.
"Fuck Johnny..."
You murmer.
"Nae...yer gonna call me sir from now on Love..."
You swallow, waiting for him to move.
"Do ye understand me?"
"Yes Sir."
"Good lass."
He gices you this praise and gently he moves his hips, his hand pushing your spine back into that arch you'd subtly moved away from.
His hips move slow, almost painfully so, and he knows this, teasing you with his hands gliding over your back.
"Ye look so good lass...all this jus' fer me..."
"Johnny please...."
"Aw lass...what did I jus' say?"
"Please...sir?"
"Tha's better....use yer words bonnie...what is it ye want?"
"Faster sir, please?"
You hear the small beg in your voice, sure that by the end of all this you'd be begging a lot more.
"Tha's a girl."
His hand moves to your hip, gripping hard as the other moves to your hair, grasping the roots of it, giving a tug as he moves his hips a little faster, filling you with his size, over and over again.
It's only a minute or so before he seems to loose that idea of torturing you, his pace picking up, hips snapping against yours, that slap of skin on skin, the squelch of your arousal ringing in your ears.
"Fuckkk y/n...." It comes out in nearly a growl, and he pushes your upper half further into the bed.
"Yer doin' so good bonnie...so fuckin' good..."
Another maon crawls its way out of your throat, the others you'd managed to quell, small sounds here and there, but you can't stop this one.
You push your hips against his, letting your knees spread further apart trying to get him in at a deeper angle.
"Please sir, please, fuck-"
The words tumble out of your mouth before you can register what you're even trying to beg for, your figers clench at his sheets beneath you, they smell like him, everything smells like him.
"Y/N..."
His voice is a groan, it's all you hear as he shifts your position, yanking you up by your hair, bringing your back to his chest, thrusting himself upwards into you.
"Johnny...fuck!"
You find your arm going over your shoulder, wraping around the back of his neck, trying to find purchase on something
His lips latch onto your neck as though he's drawn to it, his tongue swiping over your skin and his teeth leaving bites along your throat and shoulders. He breaths hard against you, inhaling your scent.
"Steamin' bloody Jesus..."
He groans, his pace picking up a little further, one hand still brusingly on your hip, the other slides down your front, fingers finding your clit easily.
It brings a moan to the surface of your lips, and rather than being scolded Johnny simply murmers another praise of 'good lass' in your ear, his hips snapping against yours, rythmic.
"Johnny-"
"Y/N..." He huffs, his fingers going faster against your bud. "'M close...need ye to tell me where..."
"Inside Johnny, please...fill me up..."
"Jesus Y/N..."
His voice is breathy, heavy against your skin as he continues, his hips getting erratic, until finally he gives a groan, shoving his face into your shoulder, riding out his climax, the feeling of his cum hitting your inner walls pushing you closer to yours.
He rides out his, moving his hips slightly, much slower than before, and keeps his hand going, trying to keep his previous pace.
"C'mon lass...ye can let go now...it's yer turn..."
He mumbles, breatheless.
It's not much longer of this praising and the movement of his fingers before you do just that, squeezing around him and moaning out his name as you finally reach that high.
As the two of you come down, breathing hard, Johnny still inside you, head leaning against your shoulder, he slips an arm around your waist and offers a gentle kiss to your shoulder.
"Thank ye lass..." he murmers. "Tha' was fun."
"Thank you Johnny."
"Ye ain't gotta thank me...I've wanted to do tha' for god knows how long."
"Maybe we can do it again sometime."
"Oh trust me lass...we will be."
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freetowriteforme · 1 year
Text
This short story was inspired by @ravenmichaelisstuff! Go check them out because they put out some great stuff <3
               “English, MacTavish.” Ghost felt as though he’d said the phrase over a dozen times over the course of their short recon mission. The sergeant loved nothing more than to tease him, thickening his accent until it was nearly gibberish to others’ ears. “I am speaking English, sir.” The Brit rolled his eyes, continuing his search of the cramped office space. “Ghost, am'fair peched. Ur we dane yit?”
               “Sergeant, if I need to remind you to use actual words again, I’m going to slit your throat.” The Scot only snickered quietly to himself, rummaging through a cabinet. The lieutenant found the file they had been tasked to search for, turning to inform the other man and get back for exfil. He tensed when he caught sight of an enemy soldier approaching the distracted Scotsman, pistol aimed at the ready. Within moments, Ghost’s knife whizzed past the man’s head and dug into the enemy’s throat, the man going down with a muffled thud. Soap shot up, whirling around to take in the sight of the dead soldier.
               “Thank you, m’eudail.” He mumbled, noticing the file in the lieutenant’s hand, causing him to perk up. “The fuck does that mean?” Soap’s eyes lit up playfully, and he shrugged, stepping over the body to head for where exfil was supposed to be stationed. Ghost shook his head, exasperated, deciding to drop it and follow the man. It was just another incomprehensible Scots nonsense the man was rattling off. After that, he noticed the increased usage of the word.
               When Ghost would pour the sergeant a cup of coffee while his tea steeped, Johnny would always thank him with the word and a gentle smile. Sometimes he’d use it while they sparred, an attempt to confuse the lieutenant enough to catch him off guard and get the upper hand. On especially rare occasions, Johnny would whisper it so tenderly while they were having a late-night talk. His hair ruffled from sleep as they sat in the kitchen together, nursing mugs of hot tea and chatting about what was plaguing them that night.
               It became something he’d grown accustomed to, never bothered when the word would appear in the conversation. It was just another unique thing about the sergeant, something he grew fond of. He didn't mind being left in the dark, not if it was Johnny; the man wouldn’t call him something hurtful without his knowledge.
After a successful mission, the 141 were all out for drinks at a nearby bar, and a pleasant buzz was shared between the men. Soap’s face had held a mischievous smirk the entire night, an obvious tell that the man had some joke or prank up his sleeve. “Sergeant, are you going to talk about what’s got your face like that, or will you leave us in the dark all night?”
               Even Price had noticed the man’s playful demeanor, exasperation in his tone as he prepared for the worst. He could only hope the Scot hadn’t attempted to make their microwave into a bomb… again. “Aye, sir. I just got a gift for Ghost, that’s all.” The lieutenant raised his brow, confused at the randomness. “Did I forget his birthday or something?” Gaz teased, nudging his fellow sergeant. “Nae, just saw something in the store and thought it was perfect.”
               A crudely wrapped box was placed on the table and pushed gently in his direction. The Brit’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced at the man across from him. “Open it! Ah wanna see yer reaction.” The Scot sipped his liquor, his eyes shining with mirth as he oversaw the lieutenant unwrap the package. It was a book, Ghost having to turn it over to read the cover. “Scottish Slang: Volume 1. Bloody hell, Johnny.” He sighed deeply, placing the book down on the table to run a hand down his masked face. The sergeant was cackling loudly in the bar, Gaz snickering quietly beside him.
               “I’m surprised there’s more than one.” Price chuckled, disguising his amusement with a puff of his cigar. Once Johnny got his laughter under control, he smiled a bright, toothy grin at him. “Yer always complaining about nae understanding me. Noo, ye kin!” Ghost thumbed through the pages, catching some familiar words he’d heard from the sergeant, but many he’d never seen. By the time they left the bar, Johnny held the same playful smirk, “Hope you enjoy your book, m’eudail.”
               That night, Ghost actually took the time to scan through the pages, learning all kinds of words. He was just about to close the book when an extremely familiar one caught his eye. ‘M’eudail’, Scots Gaelic for ‘My Darling’ or ‘My Dear.’ His eyes widened, and he reread the definition repeatedly, believing his mind to be playing tricks on him. There was no way the sergeant had been calling him that for months on end at this point. His face flushed slightly, and he had to shut the book, taking several deep breaths to calm himself.
               Suddenly, a horrible idea came to him, and he reopened the book of slang, searching for the page with other terms of endearment.
               Johnny entered the kitchen, sliding up next to Ghost to take the man’s daily cup of coffee. “Thank you, m’eudail.” He snipped the steaming up, feeling the liquid warm his insides. “Of course, mo leannan.” The sergeant choked on his coffee, forcing himself to hack up the substance into his elbow. He stared wide-eyed at the lieutenant when he could finally breathe somewhat normally. His eyes were crinkled in the telltale way of a smile. “Where did you… oh.”
               The Brit’s pronunciation was slightly off, but he could quickly recognize the word. His face instantly heated up into a fiery crimson, and he had to turn away from the man’s piercing gaze. “Thank you for the book, Johnny. It was very informative.” Ghost patted his shoulder affectionately, leaving the kitchen with his simmering cup of tea while the sergeant attempted to get his heart rate under control.
I hope I did this justice. The idea was just so cute I couldn't pass up the chance to write about it!
Ghost, am'fair peched. Ur we dane yit? = Ghost, I'm tired. Are we done yet?
mo leannan = my lover or my sweetheart
I usually don't write Johnny's Scottish accent, so I apologize if this is atrocious.
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frogchiro · 11 months
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Playing Recon By Fire (call of duty mw2) anD IN THE BEGINNING SOAP SAYS "Get on yer knees" AND BITCH I ALMOST DID-
Ngl during that particular moment in the mission, the whole interrogation scene in the desert, I wanted to be in Hassan's place. That should've been ME, under different circumstances ofc but still😭
Soap, while usually a happy-go-lucky guy, has a mean streak especially when horny and pent up after a particulary long/stressful mission. His balls are now full and achy from all the build up sperm and all he needs is 141's resident hacker girl to help him :(( Will bully you around, body slam you during training, his heavy build made for pinning your smaller form underneath :((
Will tell you to get on your knees with a heavy, lustful voice, scottish accent thick like syrup as he growls for you to unzip his pants and get to work, he needs to fuck your throat and cum or he'll go crazy
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mikhailwrites · 6 months
Text
Waiting for Connection 7 / Ghost x Soap NerdAU
Ghost is retired and plays milsim videogame. Soap is still in the force and sometimes plays that same videogame...
Previous chapter | AO3
Ghost accepts the invitation from John and is immediately thrown into lively banter.
“…look, all I’m saying is that having APC is all nice and fun, but not when at least one person in every team has Titan. Armour is slow and loud,” a male voice says with conviction.
“So going on foot is faster? If you need to cover a serious distance, armour is your best bet,” another voice disagrees. This one has a strong accent and a particular lilt to it. If Ghost had to guess, this bloke’s first language is Spanish.
“Oi, lads, cut it out, will ye?” Soap’s Scottish brogue is easily recognisable. The corners of Simon’s mouth twitch. “Ghost, hello, glad you could make it.”
As if he had anything better to do.
“How’s it going?” Simon says because, at this point, it would be weird not to say something when he was directly addressed.
„Oh, so you’re the Ghost!“ the first voice says with a hint of excitement. „Nice to finally meet you!“
Ghost feels his eyebrow raise. „Finally?“
„Yeah, Soap wouldn’t shut up about you, mate. Was starting to think you’re a sock puppet or something,“ the bloke laughs.
„He’s exaggerating,“ Soap interjects, with a hint of defensiveness that picks Ghost’s interest. “Anyway, that’s Roach.”
„I’m not exaggerating,“ Roach stands his ground.
„He’s really not,“ the second voice confirms.
“Och away ‘n bile yer heid!” Soap says with exasperation.
“So you introduce Roach and not me? Duly noted, Sergeant!” the man chuckles. “I’m Alejandro, by the way. And the last one without a mic is Rodolfo, or Rudy if you want; his headset broke yesterday.”
“Hey, looking forward to seeing your allegedly legendary skills,” pops up in the chat from Rudy.
“A pleasure,” Ghost says, carefully filing away any and all information. “So, are we going to play?”
“Yeah, sure, hermano. Soap said you had some sweet custom level?” Alejandro
Of course, he said that. At this point, Simon is quite interested in what exactly John shared about him. “I might. Although it’s meant for two people, five will breeze through. Especially since Soap and I know it through and through.”
He’s right, they breeze through the compound in some fifteen minutes. Ghost provides sniper support, not that it’s truly needed with the level of teamwork the rest of their fireteam has. Roach and Soap are quick and ruthless, kicking in the doors and disposing of any enemy they stumble upon. Alejandro and Rudy, on the other hand, have a much more cautious approach. It makes sense since, unlike Soap, they are not familiar with the level.
Alejandro is taking the point, relaying any information or command through gestures. They clear building after building in a very methodical manner. Something about how they move through the compound and recon the situation reminds Ghost of some guerilla warfare tactics he’s witnessed and utilised many years ago in South America.
He’s tempted to ask about their background later. Not that he’s really going to ask. It’s most probably classified, they are not on a secure channel, and he wouldn’t appreciate them poking into his past either.
Roach is SAS through and through, Ghost can easily recognise the training patterns. Moreover, it’s clear that he works closely with John. There’s a level of unspoken communication and a limited ability to predict what the other man will do the next second. That only comes after being partnered with someone for a long time and through some serious shit, Ghost knows this from experience.
They finish the mission flawlessly and decide to jump into the multiplayer for a change. It’s a shitshow, for the lack of better words. It always is; Ghost and Soap are simply too good not to wipe the opposing teams, even if they are outnumbered. And they’re not outnumbered today.
Five elite operators are enough to take on an enemy stronghold, let alone a fireteam. Some days, Ghost feels a little like a bully, though today, he’s just having fun. Banter is running rampant, replacing most tactical communication with jokes and idle chat. And still, they win.
Alright, one time it’s a close call when the opposing team plants mines on the perimeter borders, and Soap learns about them the hard way. Roach runs to him, even though it’s clear that Soap didn’t survive, and drops to his bloodied body.
“Nooooo!” Roach cries out theatrically. “You can’t die here, Sergeant! Think of your sweetheart at home, waiting for you! You’re getting married when we get back! And this is your last mission before retirement! Don’t you give up!”
Ghost feels a deep, low rumble in his chest as he starts laughing. Alejandro and Rudy join in.
“Are you sure you’re not meant for Hollywood, Roach?” Rudy asks over the chat.
They don’t get to hear the reply because bullets start flying. Honestly, Ghost is surprised it took the enemy team this long. They must’ve heard the explosion.
Even if they are one man short, they still prevail. Roach is still very much reenacting some corny film, swearing to avenge Soap as he runs into a building where the enemy is holed up. He gets shot, of course, but Ghost, with Alejandro and Rudy close behind, they manage to clean and clear the house before Roach is killed. Alejandro uses his medkit to get him up.
“Well, that was fun,” Roach says, and it’s apparent he’s smiling.
They all agree just as they agree it’s time to call it a day.
“I hope we get to play with you some more in the future, Ghost,” Alejandro says.
“Don’t see why not; it was a good game,” Ghost replies. They start to drop off the channel, Rudy first, then Alejandro and Roach, until only Ghost and Soap remain.
“Um, Ghost? Got a minute?” Soap asks, voice slightly unsteady.
“Sure,” Simon replies, dragging the mouse away from the button that would quit the online session and terminate the voice chat.
“I’m on mandatory leave starting next week, so I thought I could stop in Manchester on my way home. We could grab a pint or something.”
“Why would you think I’m from Manchester?” Ghost asks with the tiniest hint of suspicion. As far as he knows, he never told John where he lives.
“With that accent? Don’t insult me, Simon,” Soap snorts.
“Fair enough,” Ghost relents. The accent is one thing, but Simon is well aware he’s been dropping some details that could give away his location. Soap is definitely smart and sharp enough to put the pieces together. “We could meet up if you want.” Ghost tries not to sound overly thrilled even though he is. An occasional chat with locals in a pub is all nice, but to sit down with someone he could, perhaps, call a friend, someone from the military, someone who understands at least some things about Ghost that civilians can’t? That sounds real good.
“Alright, it’s a date, then,” Soap exclaims, loud and obviously pleased. “I’ll go by train. Should I book a hotel near the station?”
Ghost hums in disagreement, and before he can stop himself, he’s offering. “Waste of money. If you’re fine with a couch, you can crash at my place.”
Soap chuckles. “If I’m fine with a couch? I’m a soldier, Ghost. A couch is considered an unrivalled luxury on most days.”
 “Couch it is, then.”
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if-you-fan-a-fire · 2 years
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“Volunteers Are Sought,” Windsor Star. May 28, 1942. Page 3. --- Many From Reserve Unit Expected to Join Active Force ---- Campaign Planned ---- More Than 700 Needed for Most Mobile Branch of Army Service ---- By NORMAN HULL Immediate mobilization In Windsor of the 30th Reconnaissance Battalion (Essex Regiment), for active service, has been announced today by Lieutenant-Colonel D. C. Warnica. 
Officer commanding the battalion! as a reserve unit, Colonel Warnica has been authorized to recruit the actia service force of more than 700 men. 
NOT YET ANNOUNCED Although Colonel Warnica has been ordered to mobilize the battalion, the officer commanding the unit and the other officer personnel will not be announced until later, it was stated at headquarters. 
The present reserve army battalion will be continued. Colonel Warnica stated. Only men of A1 and A2 medical categories in the present unit will be able to volunteer for active service. The others will remain in the reserve force, which will go to camp from July 12 to 26 as formerly planned. 
Colonel Warnica went to London today to confer with district officers regarding an immediate recruiting campaign for the unit. Enlisting will start by the end of the week and recruiting offices will be set up in the Windsor Armories. 
TO REMAIN HERE The unit will remain in Windsor until at least fully recruited. Present plans call for it to be stationed at St. Luke Road Barracks until its numbers force it into other quarters. 
The announcement of the 30th Battalion mobilization comes in reply to the growing public opinion that this city should be represented by a second active service battalion. The Essex Scottish Regiment was mobilized at the outbreak of war, and no other unit associated solely with this area has been called up since.
Colonel Warnica is hopeful that the young men of this area will volunteer in sufficient numbers to ensure another Essex County fighting unit in Canada’s active army. HOME BATTALION Mobilization of the unit is an answer to those who have long advocated the home battalion system of recruiting used in the last war. The fact they will be serving with fellow townsmen and under officers from their own district is expected to attract many men. 
Men between the ages of 21 and 30 who are subject to army draft, will be urged to take this splendid opportunity of volunteering for service. This way they have the choice of their job in the army and also the attraction of serving in a home unit. 
The 30th Reconnaissance Battalion is the successor to The Essex Tank Regiment, organized as a reserve army unit in 1936. The tank battalion was changed to a reconnaissance unit last February. 
ADVOCATED ACTION Public spirited groups and individual citizens have been advocating mobilization of the battalion ever since the Essex Scottish left the city in May of 1940. This campaign did result in mobilization of one company of 150 men in May of 1940 under Section 63 of the Militia Act. but the company was demobilized in October of the same year. 
City council was among the organizations asking for the formation of another active service unit here. Latest to go on record favoring mobilization of the battalion was the Essex County Civilian Recruiting Committee, which passed a resolution recommending such action to military authorities, just a few weeks ago. 
Announcement of the mobilization of the battalion will be made at the regular parade tonight in the Windsor Armories Major W. W. Steward, second-in-command, will make it, in the absence of Colonel Warnica. 
MUST BE VOLUNTARY Although advised that transfer from the reserve unit to the active service force is strictly voluntarily, member of the reserve battalion will be told that officials are hopeful that first enlistments for the active force will come from that source. All men must be re-boarded before transferred. 
Many members of the reserve force are not medically fit for active service but officials are hopeful that sufficient will offer their services to form the nucleus for the active service battalion. 
Colonel Warnica today expressed pleasure that the order called for mobilization of the unit as a reconnaissance battalion. For this branch of the service is recognized as one of the most attractive in the army. 
MOST MOBILE BRANCH A reconnaissance unit is recognized as the fastest traveling and most mobile branch of the army. No on walks with such a unit. 
Jeeps, universal carriers. solo-motorcycles and four-wheel drive light transports are the vehicles used by a reconnaissance unit known as the ‘eyes and brains’ of the army. 
The reconnaissance unit is the first to contact the enemy. It forms a feeler unit to determine the enemy's strength and at the same time prevent the opposing force from gathering information about its own forces. 
LAST LINE OF DEFENCE The reconnaissance unit, as the fastest traveling, is also the last line of defence of a retiring force. 
Because of the large number of vehicles it places in operation, a reconnaissance unit must include many mechanics in its strength.
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Fellow Scottish Dracula enjoyers, do you know Mina's Reconing is touring just now?
It's a Scottish female retelling and it looks hella spooky
youtube
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🧛🏻‍♂️ Tour dates 🧛🏻‍♂️
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gammaliminal · 10 months
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Neon Troupe: Recon Propaganda!
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Vote for this little shit from a completely different world! (that you have a 90% likely-hood of not knowing!)
This is [NAME REDACTED], the Recon! An uplifted cat from the Scottish lowlands who, after being too annoying for catshows, became a contractor and offense class!
Reasons to vote for him: - Cat! - Cat boy! - UPLIFTED cat boy! - From a completely different world of the 80s! (Don't ask how he's here now, time traveling shenanigans perhaps? - About on par with Scout, attitude-wise - Is extremely petty and will be a smartass if he wants - Has a jetpack and can fly! - Is pretty damn fast otherwise - Will fuck someone's shit up, even if he's unarmed - Has a big appreciation of poetry! - Is pretty good at writing poetry! - Is very much a Gremlin (TM) - Loves chocolate (despite it not being safe to eat for him)
VOTE FOR THE RECON! IN @tf2shipswag's UPCOMING POLLS!
(Hi so, this isn't normal tf2! this is a fanproject based on tf2! link to explain more! also, art by @schmegaman-x!! ALSO ALSO the recon's name is clickable! :3c for more info ab him mechanically)
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silver-shaded · 8 months
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List of cat breeds and which organisations reconize them (Part 1)
Part 1 (A - L) is under the cut!
Notes:
If a breed is listed under a different name I noted it, unless it's a very similar name (Scottish Straight = Scottish Shorthair etc.).
I am not super good at distinguishing variants like European and American burmeses, so I put those that were just labeled "burmese" under unspecified. The same for Bombays and Maine Cats).
Breeds' long- and shorthair versions are listed seperately. However I didn't look up every single standard, just each index, and with some breeds it was not specified if they're recognized as longhaired, shorthaired or both. I've listed those as the most common variant. The same goes for ear types, fur types etc. (I might go through all of the standards some other time)
There are some breeds on here that are considered extinct or dormant but since some organisations still have their standard I've listed them. They're marked with an asterisk.
Words in quotation marks are the words I use if there's no official term for something.
apparently REFR accepts all recognized breeds from all registries plus their own. However they didn't write down all of them nor which breeds were extinct, so if anyone knows the latter feel free to tell me.
Let me know if you spot a mistake somewhere.
Organisations:
FIFe - Fédération Internationale Féline
TICA - The International Cat Association
CFA - Cat Fanciers' Association
WCF - World Cat Federation
GCCF - Governing Council of the Cat Fancy
LOOF - LOOF
NZCF - New Zealand Cat Fancy
CCCA - Co-Ordinating Cat Council of Australia
ACF - Australian Cat Federation
SACC - Southern African Cat Council
FFE - Fédération Féline Française
GCCFV - Governing Council of the Cat Fancy Victoria
FIAF - Federazione Italiana Associazioni Feline
FCCV - Feline Control Council of Victoria Inc
FCCQ - Feline Control Council of Queensland Inc
CFSA - Cat Federation of Southern Africa
ACFA - American Cat Fanciers association
CFF - Cat Fanciers Federation
CCCT Cat Control Council of Tasmania Inc
CATZ Inc - CATZ Inc
CANT - Cat Association of the Northern Territory
CCA/AFC - Canadian Cat Association / Association Féline Canadienne
REFR - Rare and Exotic Feline Registry
Breeds:
Abyssinian
SACC
LOOF
ACF
CCCA
NZCF
GCCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
FFF
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
CFSA
ACFA
CFF
CCCT
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
Aegean
Agia Heleni/Cyprus Short
FIAF (under St. Helen)
Agia Heleni/Cyprus Long
FIAF (under St. Helen)
Alpine Lynx Short
REFR
Alpine Lynx Long
REFR
Altai
American Bobtail Long
LOOF
WCF
CFA
TICA
ACFA
CCA
REFR
American Bobtail Short
LOOF
WCF
CFA
TICA
ACFA
American Curl Short
LOOF
SACC
ACF
CCCA
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
FFF
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
CFSA
ACFA
CFF
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
American Curl Long
LOOF
SACC
ACF
CCCA
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
FIAF
ACFA
CFF
American Curl "Straight" Short
SACC
American Curl "Straight" Long
SACC
American Fold Short
REFR
American Fold Long
REFR
American Straight Short
REFR
American Straight Long
REFR
American Keuda
REFR
American Lynx
REFR
American Polydactyl
REFR
American Ringtail
American Satin
American Shorthair
SACC
LOOF (under american shorthair and wirehair)
ACF
CCCA
NZCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
ACFA
CFF
CCCT
CANT
CCA
REFR
American Polydactyl
REFR
American Wirehair
WCF
LOOF (under american shorthair and wirehair)
CFA
TICA
FIAF
FCCV
ACFA
CCA
REFR
Anatoli
WCF
FIAF
Aphrodite's Giant Short
ACF
WCF
TICA
FIAF
ACFA
Aphrodite's Giant Long
AFC
WCF
TICA
GCCFV
FIAF
ACFA
CANT
Arabian Mau
WCF
FIAF
Arctic Curl
Asian Short
SACC
LOOF
GCCF
FIAF
CFSA
CATZ
REFR
Australian Mist
ACF
CCCA
GCCF
WCF
TICA
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
ACFA
CCCT
CATZ
CANT
REFR
Aztec
GCCF
CATZ (under Jungala)
REFR (under Jungala)
Azul Cubano
Bahraini/Dilmun
Balinese
SACC
LOOF (under Balinese & Mandarin)
ACF
CCCA
NZCF
GCCF
WCF (under Siamese LH)
CFA
TICA
FIFe
GCCFV
CFSA
ACFA
CFF
CCCT
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
Bambino
FIAF
CFSA
CATZ
REFR
Bambino Curl
REFR
Bambob
REFR
Bengal
SACC
LOOF
ACF
CCCA
GCCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
FFF
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
FCCQ
CFSA
ACFA
CFF
CCCT
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
Bengal Fold
Birman Long
SACC
LOOF
ACF
CCCA
NZCF
GCCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
FFF
FIAF
FCCQ
CFSA
ACFA
FCCV
CFF
CCCT
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
Bohemia Rex
FIAF
Bombay (unspecified)
SACC
LOOF (under Bombay & US Burmese)
ACF
CCCA
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe (provisional)
GCCFV
FIAF
ACFA
CFF
CATZ
CCA
REFR
Bombay American
FCCV
CCCT
CANT
Bombay Australian
FCCV
CCCT
Bombay UK
Bombay Long
FIAF
Bramble
REFR
Brasilian Shorthair
WCF
FIAF
REFR
Bristol
REFR
British Short
SACC
LOOF
ACF
CCCA
NZCF
GCCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
FFF
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
FCCQ
CFSA
ACFA
CFF
CCCT
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
British Long
SACC
LOOF
GCCF
WCF
TICA
FIFe
CFSA
ACFA
REFR
British Ice Longhair
REFR
British Ice Shorthair
REFR
Burmese (unspecified)
SACC
NZCF
FIFe
TICA
GCCF
FFF
FCCQ
CFSA
CFF
CATZ
CCA
REFR
Burmese American
LOOF (under Bombay & US Burmese)
ACF
CCCA
WCF
CFA
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
ACFA
CCCT
CANT
Burmese European
LOOF
WCF
CCCA
ACF
CFA
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
ACFA
CFF (under Foreign Burmese)
CCCT
CANT
CCA (under Foreign Burmese)
Burmilla Short
LOOF
ACF
CCCA
CFA
TICA
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
ACFA
CCCT
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
Burmilla Long
ACF
CCCA
NZCF
CFA
TICA
GCCFV
FIAF
ACFA
CANT
Californian Rex
LOOF (under Cornish Rex)
California Spangled*
FIAF
REFR
California Toyger
REFR
Caracat
Caravannah
Cashmere
NZCF
WCF
TICA
FIAF
Celeste Short
LOOF (provisional)
Celeste Long
LOOF (provisional)
Celtic Fold
CATZ
Ceylon
LOOF
WCF
FIAF
Chantilly-Tiffany
CCA (experimental)
Chartreux
LOOF
GCCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
FFF
FIAF
ACFA
CFF
CCA
REFR
Chausie
LOOF (provisional)
WCF
TICA
FIAF
REFR
Cheetoh
FIAF
CATZ
Chinchilla Longhair
SACC
CFSA
Chinchilla Shorthair
Chinese Harlequin*
REFR
Chinese Tank Cat
REFR
Clippercat Short
FIAF
Clippercat Long
FIAF
CATZ
Colorpoint Shorthair
CFA
CATZ
CCA
REFR
Copper
REFR
Cornish Rex
SACC
LOOF
ACF
CCCA
GCCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
FFF
FIAF
FCCV
CFSA
ACFA
CFF
CCCT
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
Curly Tail Cat
REFR
Cymric
SACC
LOOF
ACF
CCCA (under Manx LH)
NZCF
WCF
CFA (under Manx)
TICA
FIFe
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV (under Manx SH & LH)
ACFA
CFF
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
Devon Rex Short
SACC
LOOF
ACF
CCCA
NZCA
GCCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
FFF
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
CFSA
ACFA
CFF
CCCT
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
Devon Rex Long
NZCF
Desert Lynx
REFR
Donskoy/Don Sphynx
SACC
LOOF
WCF
TICA
FIFe
CFSA
CFF
CCA
REFR
Dossow
REFR
Dwelf
CFSA
REFR
Egyptian Mau
SACC (provisional)
LOOF
ACF
CCCA
NZCF
GCCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
FFF
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
ACFA
CFF
CCCT
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
Elf Cat
FIAF
REFR
European Shorthair
LOOF
WCF (under Celtic/ESH)
FIFe
FIAF
ACFA
Exotic Short
LOOF
SACC
CCCA
GCCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
FFFGCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
FCCQ
CFSA
ACFA
CFF
CCCT
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
Exotic Long
CFA
ACFA
CFF
Fleecy Cloud
Foldex
CCA
REFR
Foreign White Short
ACF
CCCA
WCF
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
CATZ
CANT
Foreign White Long
ACF
CCCA
WCF
GCCFV
FIAF
FIAF
CANT
Gaelic Fold
CATZ
Gao Taem
REFR
Genetta
REFR
German Longhair
WCF
FIAF
REFR
German Rex
LOOF
WCF
FIFe
FIAF
Habari
Havana Brown/Suffolk Chocolate
GCCF (under Suffolk)
LOOF
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIAF
ACFA
CFF
CCA
REFR
Hemingway Curl
REFR
Hibernian Lynx
REFR
Highlander Long
TICA (provisional)
ACFA
REFR
Highlander Short
TICA (provisional)
ACFA
Highland Lynx
REFR
Himalayan
WCF (under Persian/Himalayan)
TICA
CFSA (under Colorpoint)
ACFA
CFF
CATZ
CCA
REFR
Himalayan (Non-Pointed)
CCA
Isle of Man Shorthair
NZCF
Isle of Man Longhair
NZCF
Jaguarette
REFR
Jaguarundi Curl
REFR
Jambi
Japanese Bobtail Short
SACC
LOOF
ACF
CCCA
NZCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
ACFA
CFF
CCCT
CANT
CCA
REFR
Japanese Bobtail Long
LOOF
SACC
ACF
CCCA
NZCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
GCCFV
FIAF
ACFA
CANT
Javanese
ACF (under OLH)
NZCF
GCCFV (under OLH)
CFSA
CANT (under OLH)
REFR
Poljun
Junglebob
REFR
Jungle Curl
REFR
Jungle Lynx
REFR
Kanaani
WCF
FIAF
Karelian Bobtail Long
WCF
FIAF
Karelian Bobtail Short
WCF
FIAF
Keetso
Khao Manee
WCF
CFA
TICA
ACFA
CCA
REFR
Kinkalow
REFR
Korat
SACC
LOOF
ACF
CCCA
NZCF
GCCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
FFF
GCCFV
FIAF
FCCV
ACFA
CFF
CCCT
CATZ
CANT
CCA
REFR
Korn Ja
Kucing Malaysia
Kurilian Bobtail Long
LOOF
WCF
TICA
FIFe
FFF
FIAF
ACFA
CFF
CCA
Kurilian Bobtail Short
LOOF
WCF
TICA
FIFe
FIAF
ACFA
CFF
Lambkin Long
FIAF
CATZ
REFR
Lambkin Short
FIAF
CATZ
LaPerm Long
SACC
LOOF
ACF
CCCA
NZCF
GCCF
WCF
CFA
TICA
FIFe
GCCFV
FIAF
CFSA
CATZ
CANT
6 notes · View notes
gemmahale · 3 months
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Call of Duty: Modern Warfare (Reboot) - Works In Progress
I'm always happy to answer questions and share progress on any of these! My Ask Box is always open. Links lead to the tag for that WIP.
All WIPs are 18+. Minors, please don't.
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John 'Bravo 6' Price
#Useful Girl WIP - A retrospective that takes John Price from Pompous Playboy Lieutenant to Suave Dominant Captain with a woman that makes his head spin and his pants tight. BDSM, D/s, boot blacking and similar kinks. John Price x OFC Scarlett Morgan
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Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick
#Call of The Wild WIP - When his werewolf girlfriend goes missing, Kyle Garrick must set his feelings aside in order to save her from a hybrid trafficking ring. Kyle Garrick x OFC Shannon Porter Shifter AU
#The Contract WIP - In a fit of frustration, Rosalind Henderson makes a deal with a demon. When he comes to collect, they're taken aback by how normal he is. Or is there more to this contract she didn't know about when they signed? Kyle Garrick x OC Rosalind 'Rosie'/'Lin' Henderson Demon AU; Collab with @pfhwrittes
#Corporal Distraction WIP - Sgt. Kyle Garrick has been seeing Corporal Anna Gibson in secret. His teammates have had enough of their late night shenanigans and decide to take matters into their own hands. Kyle Garrick x OFC Anna Gibson; John MacTavish, Simon Riley x OFC Anna Gibson
#Embroidered Secret WIP - Kyle Garrick meets Lucille Fitzroy at one of the many balls. Follow their courtship with a lost and found trinket, a realization of love, and lots of witty banter and stolen moments. He fell first, she fell harder trope. Kyle Garrick x OFC Lucille Fitzroy Regency AU; Collab with @ofdivinity01
#Flowers from My Love WIP - Johanna Hawkins, disabled flower farmer, meets the Taskforce 141 and becomes smitten with Kyle Garrick when they occupy the neighbor's house. When a farmer's market event is attacked, she has to trust her new friends to be able to get her out of the precarious situation she's found herself in. Kyle Garrick x OFC Johanna Hawkins
#A Protégé's Trust WIP - Laswell's CIA Operative Lisa 'Badger' Compton manages to get under Kyle's skin every which way he turns. It's infuriating how much she bothers him. Her silky voice over comms, her voluptuous curves handing him information, the twinkle of her painted fingernail on her firearm's trigger - one of these days, he's going to lose it over this woman. Kyle Garrick x OFC Lisa 'Badger' Compton. Collab with @pfhwrittes
#Squeamish Stitches WIP - When Gaz is injuried on a recon mission, it's up to Jen 'Glitz' O'Dolan to get him patched up. One catch: her last visit to med bay resulted in her fainting at the sight of blood. Squeamish or not, his life rests in her hands while Ghost secures the safehouse. Aka: the Triple G Crew Kyle Garrick x OFC Jen 'Glitz' O'Dolan; Simon Riley & OFC Glitz
#Palace Hallways WIP - It's not awful being the newly crowned Queen's lady-in-waiting. What is awful is the attention you've unintentionally garnered from Sir Garrick. What's even worse, is the Royal Artificer and Royal Druid seem to be paying you the same kind of attention. You're a mess, and no one will do anything about it. Fantasy AU Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish, Simon Riley x OFC 'Petal'
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Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish
#Brix WIP - Orchard manager Annabeth Turner deals with becoming a safehouse for a clandestine task force. The Scot on the team can't seem to help himself and continues to get in the way. Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x OFC Annabeth Turner
#Highland Tartans WIP - John MacTavish and Holly Duncan, of neighboring Scottish clans, are set to be wed. Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x OFC Holly Duncan Historic Scottish Highlands AU (historical accuracy is questionable)
#Museum Muse WIP - Johnny meets an art model while on leave and a relationship blossoms. BDSM, D/s dynamic, puppy play Johnny 'Soap' MacTavis x OFC Darlene 'Daisy' Houghton
#Corporal Distraction WIP - Sgt. Kyle Garrick has been seeing Corporal Anna Gibson in secret. His teammates have had enough of their late night shenanigans and decide to take matters into their own hands. Kyle Garrick x OFC Anna Gibson; John MacTavish, Simon Riley x OFC Anna Gibson
#Palace Hallways WIP - It's not awful being the newly crowned Queen's lady-in-waiting. What is awful is the attention you've unintentionally garnered from Sir Garrick. What's even worse, is the Royal Artificer and Royal Druid seem to be paying you the same kind of attention. You're a mess, and no one will do anything about it. Fantasy AU Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish, Simon Riley x OFC 'Petal'
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley
#Palace Hallways WIP - It's not awful being the newly crowned Queen's lady-in-waiting. What is awful is the attention you've unintentionally garnered from Sir Garrick. What's even worse, is the Royal Artificer and Royal Druid seem to be paying you the same kind of attention. You're a mess, and no one will do anything about it. Fantasy AU Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish, Simon Riley x OFC 'Petal'
#Squeamish Stitches WIP - When Gaz is injuried on a recon mission, it's up to Jen 'Glitz' O'Dolan to get him patched up. One catch: her last visit to med bay resulted in her fainting at the sight of blood. Squeamish or not, his life rests in her hands while Ghost secures the safehouse. Aka: the Triple G Crew Kyle Garrick x OFC Jen 'Glitz' O'Dolan; Simon Riley & OFC 'Glitz'
#Corporal Distraction WIP - Sgt. Kyle Garrick has been seeing Corporal Anna Gibson in secret. His teammates have had enough of their late night shenanigans and decide to take matters into their own hands. Kyle Garrick x OFC Anna Gibson; John MacTavish, Simon Riley x OFC Anna Gibson
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Kate Laswell
#Edge Dressing WIP - Kate is roped into a bootblacking demonstration by her wife Letty. A curious voyeur learns more about the art than they expected. Kate Laswell x OFC Letty Laswell x OC (TBD)
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Task Force 141 - Price, Ghost, Gaz, Soap (May Include other MW characters)
#Feylands WIP - The Court of Maevonia have been in search of a human for their court plaything for a while. Josephine Kaplan fits the description of what they want. But when she accidentally shows up unannounced just as a war with a neighboring kingdom is kicking off, it seems like things might work out differently. Can Josie work with the Court to save not only Maevonia, but also Earth from the Penumbra and it’s Shadow Bringers? Fey AU OFC Josephine ‘Josie’ Kaplan x Gary 'Roach’ Sanderson; + Task Force 141, Kate Laswell, Wife Laswell, Alex Keller, Farah Karim
#141 Studio WIP - Samantha West, stage name Poppy, interviews for a position with Studio 141 - one of the most elite, ethical and diverse porn studios. With her hiring comes a whirlwind of changes - mostly for the better. But when trouble comes knocking, will Poppy have the answer on the 'Tip Of The Tongue'? Porn Studio AU. AKA: Kinky Bullshit. Gemma needed a sandbox for gratuitous porn, pro sex-worker. Task Force 141 + Friends x OFC Samantha 'Poppy' West
#7 Sins Bookstore WIP - Seven Sins Bookstore and Cafe is warm and cozy inside - a maze of bookshelves filled with tomes and little reading nooks tucked throughout on one side, and on the other, a bustling cafe with delicious food, hot beverages, wine tastings and room for groups to congregate. But in the basement, beyond an unassuming office door, lies the real purpose of the institution. That’s where the real deals are made, where blood is ordered to be spilled, and pacts signed in indelible hemoglobin ink. Vampire Mobster AU Task Force 141 x OC's - Journalist, Researcher, Barista Manager/Author, Regular Customer
#Horizon Mirages WIP - With an increase in bandit activity in the area around the small town of Whisperdale, recently elected Sheriff John Price and his deputies - Simon Riley, Johnny MacTavish, and Kyle Garrick - are pressured to ease tensions between cattlemen, homesteaders and townsfolk alike. Western AU Task Force 141 x OCs - Seamstress, Shepherdess, Saloon Co-Owner, General Store Manager
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Glitter Background in Header: 1tamara2 from Pixabay Text Divider: @saradika-graphics Last Updated: 5/28/2024
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