#team benji

[smilesrobotlover]

Some strangers across eras stuff. Some stuff is from whumptober while other things are just made up. The first one is from this:

#Kass and Benji and Linebeck singing together HHHHSNSBJSBSKSBSKSBSKSNS #🥺🥺🥺🥺 #also Ammon and Leon have the same beard #tho they look different. if Ammon was taller he’d probably be able to pass off as Leon #me in a loving my wife competition and my opponent is Rusl #Linebeck loves to annoy the puppeteer at all times #strangers across eras #as much as I want to add more to the team I just can’t #I always come back to these guys #hhh #suggestive

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Total $hit$how: Punching Bags

in which Benji realizes he's in over his head.

cw: violence, abusive training methods, threats, adult/crude language

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

×~×~×

Wandering the base hadn't been nearly as fun as Benji had hoped.

It was mostly just empty government-style hallways and locked doors. So many locked doors. Made even more frustrating by the fact that the locks all looked easy as shit, and if he tried, Benji could have any of them open in a matter of seconds. Maybe all of them. He wondered how long it would take him to open every door in the facility if he was really trying. Ten minutes? Fifteen? There was always the chance that a locked door would just lead to more locked doors, but that wasn't really fair to count against him.

But… he wasn't going to do that. No matter how bored he got here. Normally he didn't care too much for following rules, you couldn't make a living as a thief if you did, but Sahota's all-but-outright-stated threat made him think better of it.

If he messed up here, he would go to jail.

He'd already been there briefly, while waiting on a trial, and that had been… significantly less than fun. Benji imagined a state prison would be worse, especially if he was in for literal decades. So, fine. He'd be a good boy and do what he was told, even if their mission sounded made up.

There were a few doors that weren't locked. A decent-sized kitchen and adjacent dining hall. A computer lab that doubled as a small library. A huge, open room with cushioned floors that Benji assumed was the training area.

Eventually, Vic found them and showed them to their rooms. They were down a hall, behind yet another locked door, but Vic gave them keys for this one. 

There was a room for each of them, thank God. Benji would lose his mind if he had to room with one of these doofuses. Joy and Jericho seemed alright, but he never trusted a first impression. Kaius was a classic arrogant rich boy, probably turned into an asshole by parents and teachers who constantly praised his intellect. And Harbor seemed more than a little unstable. The kind of guy who'd snap and stab you in your sleep if you looked at him wrong.

Sure, he'd learn to get along with them; he got along with everyone given enough time, but sharing a living space was a different story.

The rooms were small and impersonal. A little bland for Benji’s tastes, and if he weren't fresh out of a jail cell he might've complained more. It was late, and he was tired from all the new information that had been chucked at him throughout the day, so he fell onto the bed before doing too much poking around.

The next morning, at seven sharp, they all filed into the training bay as instructed. Everyone else was wearing a set of dark gray workout attire.

Shit, did he not get the memo? He hadn't bothered to dig through the drawers the night before, and had just changed into the same clothes he'd worn yesterday, minus the fishnet undershirt. Now he was standing there in a crop top, looking ridiculous.

When Harbor stumbled in, ten minutes late and wearing the same rumpled shirt and oversized jacket he'd had on at the briefing, Benji didn't know if he felt better or worse.

On the one hand, at least he wasn't the only one who'd goofed. On the other, he didn't want everyone else to start grouping him with Harbor.

“I see most of you found the training uniforms.”

Benji turned around. Sahota was walking into the room, his face impassive as ever though his tone was full of irritation.

“Right, sorry,” Benji said. “Maybe give us better instruction next time instead of running off? Even just a note could work. Oh, or those little instruction pamphlets that come inside board games, that would've been a huge help—”

“Is this just a game to you, Ruebin?”

Benji gave him an exaggerated wince. “No," he said "I can honestly say that me staying out of prison is a very serious matter. I'm just saying—”

“Then shut up and pay attention.” He sauntered to the center of the group, leaving Benji to throw an exasperated look in Joy’s direction, which she answered with a small grin.

In his experience, the quickest way to bond with someone was by complaining about someone else.

Sahota unzipped his jacket and cast it aside, then turned to face them. He was… actually kind of hot, even if Benji was reluctant to admit it. Warm brown skin and lean muscle. Scars running up and down his arms that served to add an edge to his look, and a tattoo of something—a hawk? Some kind of bird—curling along the side of his neck. His dark hair was cut short at the sides and allowed just enough length to curl at the top, and his eyes were framed by thick lashes. If the guy wasn't such a prick, he might’ve tried to chat him up.

“Today we'll be doing some sparring," Sahota said. "I assume most of you already have some combatives experience, but I'll need a firsthand look to see if your skills are adequate.”

Joy raised her hand. Benji found it adorable how she kept doing that, like a kindergartner excited to learn. 

“So you're going to watch us fight each other?”

“No,” Sahota said. “You're going to fight me.”

Shit. Benji raised his hand. “Ah… exactly how important are these combatives?”

He was more flight than fight. Hell, not even that. As long as his jaw was working, Benji was a talker. He'd avoided countless black eyes and broken bones through simple verbal de-escalation. The few times he had been dragged into a scuffle hadn't gone very well for him.

“It's a matter of life and death.” From anybody else, that would've sounded like a joke, but Sahota was dead serious. “Each potential target will be swarming with guards. If you end up cornered, really cornered, it'll be a fight to survive. Understood?”

Benji swallowed, nodding. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Shoes off. Vic doesn't like the mats getting scuffed.”

Benji crouched, unlacing his boots with a heavy sigh. This was gonna suck, wasn't it? Maybe he should just volunteer to go first and get this over with—

“I'll go first if that's okay,” Jericho piped up. “Might as well get it over with.”

Oh, son of a… well. Great minds think alike and all that. Benji scooted away from the mat, eyes on his brand new teammate as the man stepped up and came face-to-face with Sahota. Their handler smirked—if you could call it that. It was a half-smirk. Quarter smirk. Barely noticeable at all.

Jericho was nearly a head taller than him and twice as wide, all nervous smiles and beefy arms as Sahota sized him up.

“Alright Davis. Come at me.”

“What, right away?”

Sahota hit him.

Nothing devastating, just a little pop on the jaw, but Benji physically cringed at the blow, and Jericho staggered back in surprise.

“If you're caught in a fight, you can't hesitate,” Sahota said. Jericho gave a sharp nod and swung on him, but the smaller man dodged the blow effortlessly. 

“If you don't have skill, you'll need to make up for it with speed. If you know you're cornered, be the first to strike.”

He sidestepped another blow from Jericho as he spoke, sending a sharp kick into his opponent’s ribs.

“You're strong, Davis, but too slow.”

Jericho lunged at Sahota, making to grab him, but their handler dodged that too.

“And you're holding back.”

“I… I don't want to hurt you,” Jericho said, sounding a little winded.

“Your enemy won't feel the same.”

Sahota dropped to the floor, moving quicker than Benji thought possible as he took Jericho’s legs out from under him with a sweeping kick, then pouncing on the bigger man when he hit the ground, wrestling him into a chokehold before he could react.

Jericho tapped out, and Sahota let him up. The whole thing was over in under two minutes, and their handler wasn't even breathing heavily.

Maybe it was a better strategy to go last, when Sahota was the slightest bit tired out. If he got tired at all. Even then, Benji really didn't like his odds.

“I'll go next,” Joy said, stepping up to the mat as Jericho trudged back to his spot on the floor, one hand on his ribs. Benji threw a sympathetic look his way, or rather, a can you believe this guy look.

“Begin.”

Having apparently learned from Jericho’s match, Joy lunged right away, dropping a knee between Sahota’s legs and thrusting her body forward, driving them both to the ground. The move seemed to have taken the man by surprise, but he didn't stay that way for long, engaging with Joy before she could throw an arm around his neck. The two grappled for a moment, but Sahota came out on top. Benji wasn't overly shocked as he released the defeated Joy.

“Not terrible,” he said. “But against a larger opponent you wouldn't stand a chance.”

“That's what guns are for,” Joy panted.

Kaius went next. Small as he was, he was surprisingly good at kicking, and actually almost landed a blow. Benji felt a little vindicated when he didn't, even more so when he was swiftly put into a chokehold. If Kaius was the first one to match Sahota, Benji had the feeling he'd only get smugger.

With Kaius beaten that marked three fights won, and Sahota didn't look the slightest bit tired.

“Are you ready, Harbor?”

“If it means I get to punch you.” Harbor shuffled over to the mat, hands stuffed into the pockets of his oversized jacket. His multicolored hair, buzzed on one side and long on the other, gave the appearance of a parrot sitting on his shoulder. A feral parrot. Who'd been caught in a particularly bad storm. His height matched Jericho's, but he was scrawny, with a build like the kid from the chocolate factory movie after he'd been stretched by the taffy puller.

“Begin.”

Harbor darted forward, closed fist shooting out and… and actually catching Sahota across the chin.

Their handler seemed just as surprised as Benji was. Of all the people to land a blow, Harbor had got it first?

Sahota recovered quickly, dancing around the next few jabs. Harbor moved like a drunk monkey, slouchy and swaying, but he was fast.

What had he said at the briefing? He had some kind of biotech implant that made him quicker? In that case, completely unfair. Benji hoped he wouldn't have to fight him.

On the other hand, having Harbor on his side in a fight would be a plus. Even after Sahota had landed a few hits of his own, the taller man hadn't slowed down, the half-crazed smile on his face spreading with every blow. 

Which was more than a little bit unsettling. Benji once again found himself glad he didn't have to share a room with the guy.

After what seemed like forever, Sahota managed to get him on the ground, wrapping an arm around his throat and squeezing, the finishing move that had ended every other match.

Only Harbor didn't tap.

His face was contorted into a snarl, blood dribbling down his chin as his hands clawed at the arm around his neck. His upper lip was starting to go purple.

“Sahota…” Jericho said. “I think he's done.”

Their handler didn't move.

“Sahota.”

Harbor's jaw worked soundlessly, his feet scraping at the ground. A sick fear settled in Benji’s stomach. He wasn't… he wasn't about to watch this guy die, was he? Sahota wouldn't go that far, would he?

His mouth fell open, to reason with the other man, to shout for him to stop, but words didn't come. Beside him, Joy jumped to her feet, striding forward. Jericho was already standing, looking like he was about to charge in as well.

“Hey!”

Harbor's arms fell slack at his sides, and Sahota at last let go, letting the other man fall limp onto the mat as he stood.

Joy bent over Harbor's body. “What the fuck was that?”

“He'll be fine,” Sahota muttered. He was more winded than he'd been after his fight with Kaius, but his expression remained impassive. Not angry, or regretful, just… just a whole lot of nothingness. Like he didn't care at all. He was just doing his job, and he had no room for showing mercy at it.

And Benji was up next.

“Are you supposed to be training us or hurting us?” Benji said, finding words at last. “Is this really what Vic wants from you?”

“Who do you think I learned it from?”

Behind him, Harbor's eyes fluttered open with a groan. Joy offered him a hand, but he swatted it aside, staggering to his feet with difficulty. Sahota watched him limp away.

“You're quick, Harbor, but you're a sloppy fighter,” he said. “However, you're also the only one who didn't tap. Good work.”

“Good?” Joy scowled. “You're a shitty trainer if you think that's a good thing."

Sahota ignored her. “Get on the mat, Ruebin. You're up.”

Oh, fuck me.

Benji chewed the inside of his cheek as he pushed himself to his feet. Everyone here was a better brawler than him, and everyone here was already sporting bruises from their go with Sahota. No way would he escape unscathed.

“Go easy on me,” he said, trying to make it sound like a joke. “I don't even know how to throw a punch.”

“Begin.”

He knew he should follow the handler's suggestion and strike first, but Benji couldn't bring himself to move closer to his opponent. Sahota took a step forward, and he took a step back, hands half-up as if he'd actually be fast enough to protect his face.

“Maybe we should just—”

Sahota swung on him, and Benji jumped back with a yelp, barely evading the blow. Shit!

“Dodging won't always save you. What will you do when the door is barricaded? When you're trapped?”

That was where words came in. “Can't I just offer to go down on him?” he snipped.

Sahota answered with a jab to the jaw that sent Benji’s head snapping to the side, and he staggered backwards, losing his balance and landing hard on his ass. He scrambled to his feet as Sahota stalked towards him, holding his hands up in awkward fists, cheek throbbing.

His opponent spun on his heel, sending a kick directly into Benji’s side, which he accepted with a cry and a stumble, arms instinctively rising to protect his head, body panicking and not moving in the right direction quick enough.

“If all you're going to do is cower, you're never going to win.”

Benji grit his teeth, getting his hands back up. He flung a blind punch at Sahota, and was unsurprised when it didn't make contact. The other man took advantage of the opening, planting a heavy kick in Benji's stomach.

He crumpled, retching as the boot sent a spike of pain and nausea through his torso, up his spine. Sahota was towering over him, moving to pin him down—

“Wait!” Benji threw up a hand to shield himself. “Wait, wait, I surrender. Okay? You win.”

Sahota stopped. “You surrender?” he echoed, his voice low. An edge had entered his tone, and Benji didn't like it one bit.

“Your mission is to destroy top-secret equipment owned by a company with enough money to own you a thousand times over. Do you know what happens if you surrender?”

Benji searched for something witty, something he could throw out to defuse the situation, and came up empty handed. “N-no, I—”

He cried out as Sahota seized a fistful of his hair and hauled him to his feet, scalp set on fire by the sudden force, only half-aware of the shouts of alarm from the others.

“If you surrender, they'll want information. Who sent you. Why. They'll do anything to get it. And when you give it up, when you sell us out, Vic and I will do worse. Understood?”

Benji squeezed his eyes shut, nodding as much as the hand in his hair would allow.

“Good. Now stand up and fight—”

“I think that's enough.” Jericho was behind Benji. He hadn't heard him walking up. “Sahota, let him go.”

When he dared to open his eyes, their handler was glaring up at Jericho. But the grip in his hair loosened, and the big guy caught Benji as he fell backwards.

Sahota turned his back on them, silent for a moment. Benji imagined he was contemplating lunging for Jericho, then coming back to beat him up when the bigger man was unconscious. 

“That's enough sparring for one day,” Sahota said at last. “Take the next few hours to train as you see fit. Vic will be around to brief you on individual skill use later.”

Benji clung to Jericho as they left the mat behind. His ribs and stomach felt bruised, and his hands were trembling. Fuck, Sahota was good at making threats that shook him to his core.

“You okay?” Jericho asked, and Benji could only nod. Had anyone else caught what Sahota had growled at him? Did they know how fucked they were if they failed? It was probably better for the overall mood if he didn't tell them. Sure would do wonders for his if he could unhear it.

Sahota started to leave the room, but stopped just short of the door.

“I'm sure you all think I'm a monster,” he said, not turning around. “But when all this is over, when you survive it, you'll thank me.”

Benji watched him go with a barely-suppressed shudder. After today, prison wasn't sounding too bad after all.

#man these are long #this one was really fun to write though! #i love benji's pov lol #violence #beaten up #choking #total$hit$how #team whump

[the-woman-upstairs]

#tfw you get hit with the one-two punch of rogue nation and fallout #another OT3 post from me? it’s more likely than you think #i have a bad habit of zeroing in on subtle relationship dynamics and picking them apart #especially between characters who seem diametrically opposed but end up actually reflecting each other #and i refuse to pit two bad bitches against each other when it’s more fun to have them team up and terrorize their mutual love interest #ilsa x ethan x benji #mission impossible #ethan hunt #ilsa faust #benji dunn #OT3 posting #this was in my drafts but i’ve restarted work on my smutty OT3 fic #and i miss these idiot spies

[missunderstood-with-ideas]

*Explosions, government collapses, general chaos sound in the distance*

Brandt: Ha! Who’s idiot are those?

*Ethan, Luther, Benji, and Ilsa run past screaming*

Huntley taking a sip of coffee: oh…they are mine…should I-?

Brandt: Eh

#it’s a Wednesday so brandt and Huntley are to tired to deal with the team #ethan hunt #mission impossible #mission: impossible #mission impossible incorrect quotes #benji dunn #ilsa faust #ethan hunt text posts #luther stickell #william brandt #tom crusie #alan huntley

[spigosaur]

ok ok ok

new crack ship

Scrags x Curt Mega

hear me out!

This is almost entirely based on two facts: 1. Spies are Forever and The Solve it Squad exist in the same universe 2. Scrags and Owen Carvour are both played by Joey Richter.

But also, they have both lost someone close to them and deserve somebody who helps them heal from the trauma.

Now imagine the following scenario:

One of the Solve it Squad's mysteries happens to be related to the same organisation/person/something, as one of Chrt's missions. They don't immediately run into each other and whem their paths eventually cross, they don't interact, the squad just runs past Curt or the other way around. But when Curt sees them more specifically when he sees Scrags- of course, he instantly recognises his face. Curt doesn't understand. Owen? Did he somehow survive their last encounter? Did he trick Curt and only faked his death? Is he secretly behind whatever mission Curt is currently on?

Curt starts investigating and makes contact with the squad. They work together to solve both their mystery and Curt's mission. At first, Curt only treats this alliance as a way to get behind what's up with Scrags and him looking like Owen, which is why he makes sure to spend a lot of time with him. He realises pretty quickly that Scrags can't be Owen, but he stays with the squad until the end of the investigation because even if he won't admit it, he enjoys their company - especially Scrags' of course.

Curt is pretty annoyed by the squad's inability to stay focused on the mission and how unprofessional they act, but he actually fits in with their chaos quite well, and once he gets used to it, this less strict environment takes off some of the pressure from him. Meanwhile, Scrags really appreciates working with someone who actually takes their job seriously for once. (Scrag's history with the fbi plays into this somehow)

Of course, they end up bonding over their shared trauma of loosing the person/dog closest to them and forming this close relationship with somebody who really understands their pain helps them to fill the holes Owen/Cluebert have left.

The long game would not be for Curt to join the solve it squad, but rather to become a recurring character. The solve it squad just occasionally collaborates with Scrag's spy boyfriend now.

#the more I think about this ship the more I actually take it seriously #like yeah it's based on bullshit but I think I might actually be onto something #also I did realise while writing this that spies takes place in the 60s which would make Curt significantly older than Scrags #but I'm willing to ignore canon for this #spies are forever #solve it squad #benji scragtowski #scrags #curt mega #tin can bros #tin can brothers #tcb #starkid #team starkid #joey richter #owen carvour #screga

[dragonvhs]

Birthday gift for @queensqueercourt happy birthday twin!!!!!!!!!!

#benji's scribbles #cartoon #cartoon art #artists on tumblr #tf2 #team fortress #team fortress 2 #my art

[aortaargent]

A. They all have bad knees and hearing loss. Partying takes...preparation. B. Ethan does usually have opinions. He just likes letting Ilsa have opinions for him. and C. Sorry Benji <3 (I'm the one with dietary requirements on holidays)

#mission impossible #team #silly posting #ethan hunt #luther stickell #ilsa faust #benji dunn

[sashabeloved]

Engie has been working on something nonstop for a while, he's forgotten that he was supposed to meet Jacques.

Good thing Mr. French Man remembered and assumed his partner was busy. He walks into Dell's workshop with some food Benji made for him.

#blu team beans #//benji 100% teased spy the ENTIRE time he made something for his brother

[iinsawdious]

team hunt pride headcanons!

ethan: adhd bisexual benji: autistic trans man luther: autistic aroace ilsa: queer

(free to use as icons, credit not necessary but appreciated! alternates and seperates under the cut)

#mission: impossible #mission impossible #ethan hunt #benji dunn #luther stickell #ilsa faust #pride headcanons #tom cruise #simon pegg #ving rhames #rebecca ferguson #hiii i had a blast w these!! ive been thinkin abt team hunt a lot lately

[pavardscherie]

We definitely need mor Benji daddy drabbles

back with more noelle & benji. 💖💖💖

it was over an hour ago, when benjamin told you that he wanted to take noelle to sleep tonight. how could you decline such an offer of having a little more time to calm down from another hard-working day and take care of yourself. after a much needed shower, and an almost forgotten skin care routine, you made your way back into the living room.

instead of seeing benjamin waiting on the couch, a bowl of chips on the table and a movie prepared, the room was empty and the television screen midnight black. looking into each room and their corners, trying to prevent a sudden surprise prank from your humorous husband, you thought he received another emergency call from the coach. another late night training session or meeting squeezed into the tight schedule, and you just did not hear him leave through the front door over the stream of warm water in the shower.

to be honest, you completely lost yourself in another reality when the first droplets of water traveled down your body, washing away the exhaustion and stress. dressed in a pair of black satin shorts and the fitting loose top covering your chest, you carefully walked up the staircase towards the first floor.

after all, it wasn’t your mission to wake up noelle with a clumsy movement. soft snores filled the empty hallway, the door to your shared bedroom with benjamin ajar and the little lamp on the nightstand cascaded a comfortable, dim yellow light through the room. a single eyebrow raised in confusion, you knew for a fact, benjamin would have turned the light off before leaving abruptly.

fingertips pressed against the dark brown, wooden door, you peaked around the corner and the most beautiful image was shown to your eyes. sprawled out on the king-sized bed was your husband, laying on his stomach and the head turned to the side. a long arm draped over your sixteen month year old daughter, who mirrored his position perfectly. with their eyes closed, they faced eachother, peacefully snoring as the heavy exhaustion declined another second of being away.

while you thought that benji had to leave again, which wasn’t a rare occasion, he actually fell asleep to the most beautiful view. sweet, little noelle staring at her father with her adorable smile and chubby cheeks while slowly drifting into a peaceful, and deep sleep.

and the sight was so hypnotizing, and pulled him into another reality until his eyelids became way too heavy to keep them open. his sweet daughter, his world, his everything. sweet, little noelle.

#football blurb #football imagine #football drabble #football fans #german football #bayern münchen #benjamin pavard #fc bayern munich #bayern munich #fc bayern #benjamin pavard imagine #benjamin pavard fluff #benjamin pavard x you #benjamin pavard x reader #benjamin pavard drabble #benjamin pavard blurb #dad!benji #benji and noelle #french footballers #french national team #fc bayern münchen imagine #bayern munich imagine #bayern munich drabble #fc bayern münchen #bayern münchen imagine #drabbleland

[pontedeiconzafelzi]

The mi team as times of the day

LUTHER

Luther reminds me of midnight. Or perhaps twilight, when the lampposts are silently glaring away in the blinding darkness for no one, except maybe a few stray sheep now and then. The stars are just slightly visible in the kaleidoscope of sky above, shifting in and out of view erratically like playful children playing hide and seek. He's wise and daring, strong and gentle at the same time. Like midnight, as it grows deeper, he seems to stay even more stoic, more quiet still. But sit down and listen; wait for a cricket or two. You'll hear him speak words as soothing as wind, freshening you up and pushing you on just when you need it oh so desperately. And when you don't, his voice is there all the same, smoothening out the tangles in your hair and making sure you don't break a sweat. Still it stays silent, lovingly so, bringing you peace and a little variation of everything as long as you look for it.

BENJI

Benji is the sun. He's so warm and bright and sometimes so dearingly dorky, shifting in and out of what-ifs and yet managing to maintain that perfect level of cool-- as cool as one can be when his teammate is scaling the burj khalifa, anyway. And that's why he's mid-afternoon. His spirit dances so freely, unshackled, bouncing here and there and expressing whatever he likes. And who's to complain when sun rays intrude, crawl sweetly into the crevices of your room, your mind, your smile? Exactly. He brings a sort of hazy comfort to people, and they're not exactly sure why, but they're basking in its warmth all the same. It's the sort of comfort you feel when you visit your favourite spots, remembering how you'd once fallen down there or perhaps laughed till tears lined your eyes. You have no idea till today why it's your favourite spot, but you close your eyes anyway and know, oh so inexplicably, that you're safe. Anyhow, the thing about mid afternoon is that it teeters freely into evening, with no warning. It likes to play around, trick you into getting ready for a new phase of the day, only to turn around and say oops, sorry boys, was just a little passing cloud. And that's what's so refreshing about it- - you never know what's next, but you know it'll be warm anyway.

ETHAN

There're many drastically different aspects of the evening-- the gorgeous, strangely grounding stillness of colour as the sun lays its head; couples holding hands in the streets and neighbours walking their dogs together; the busy office buildings lights going off one by one, windows blinking to darkness, and the blinding light of the sun as it goes down the west, for some reason attracting people to its harsh, scorching glow.

Perhaps they find it tranquil.

One thing that ties all this together? It's people, animals, things, going to rest, laying down their shackles after a gruelling day. Not afraid to simply let go and be, because they know another day is coming.

Putting their own meaning in the mundane and projecting their love onto the ordinary, like how suddenly, sniffing the usual salmon-with-broccoli dinner when you get home from a long day of work is strikingly the most beautiful smell that'll ever seem to grace you.

Similar and yet different from himself, in more ways than i can describe. He's so spirited, blazing out in ways that people like us cannot begin to imagine, slogging away and giving every little bit, every little fibre of his being to his job. To the world, to humanity.

We know he's tried to rest. But really, there's always the next day. All for the purpose of preserving, perpetuating the sweet sweet taste of rest. To protect the peace in which we can rub our dog's belly, snuggle up with a significant other, sigh at a disappearing sunset. Even though he may never get to suck on, chew, digest that oh so palpable relief.

And, like the evening sun, there's something so inherently beautiful about that. He lives out his days with some sort of fiery purpose, flickering at times, but never going out.

Have you ever noticed how drawn people get to fires?

ILSA

When the sun breaks into the horizon at dawn, it's quiet about it. Furtive, almost shying away from the prying stare of the early birds. But it rises steadily all the same, never batting an eye as it pushes them to sing and children to leap out of bed. Gaining strength as it does, too, gently shaking awake the little beings in their beds, snoring away, as some others hurry along with their day.

lIsa's a sign of renewal like that. She springs up change, invigorates thought, eggs on action. It's not particularly evident, but it's fact-- so factual that it's taken as a given. No one counts on the sun to stay on the other side when the clock strikes a certain point, does it? No one forgets the reason they draw their curtains, push their flowerpots into just the right spots.

She's the driving force, the very energy powering through your veins. The type you don't realise is essential, but once it wanes even in the slightest, you drop to the ground, feeling the strain. She's an essential. The starting domino.

You know it's exactly what you need to feel energized, what you need feel to have that little bud of warmth in your chest bloom and remind you you're human. In more ways than one-- reminding you you can feel, you can hurt, bleed, win, yearn. And as time goes it coats her strength, polishing it and embroidering it with little marks that show she's withstanding the wear of time.

But it's funny, really, that her irrevocability should be so overlooked.

No, it's lovely how the full force of her shine dilutes itself over her landscape, concentrating just the right amount of her glow into people's lives. And every morning, there'll be a few regulars, standing at the edge of their balconies. They tiptoe, crane their necks so far in front just to drink in the beauty of her providence, smiling when the warmth soaks their skin, when the shine seeps in through their eyelids.

And all is right in the world.

#ilsa faust #ethan hunt #luther stickell #benji dunn #mission impossible #dead reckoning #fallout #rogue nation #ghost protocol #times of the day #fic #fics #mi #mi team #imf #should i add brandt

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Benji Ruebin, a lifelong flirt who seems to make friends with everyone he meets. Manages to be both a goth and a total hippie. Goes by "Rue" because it sounds cool and dark but is also a wildflower. He has stolen so many things in his life, sometimes for fun, sometimes for a paycheck. Would've become an eco-terrorist if he knew anything about gardening or making bombs. It's not too late to learn.

#we're creating long hair boys to torture today lads #the team is complete! #character design #total$hit$how #t$$ benji

[liass-21]

watching the beginning of rogue nation for fic research… god i love this film

#I MISS BRANDT LUTHER BENJI BICKERING #team hunt of all time good lord #TC IS SO FINE IN THIS FILM TOO. GOD. #having feelings #mission impossible rogue nation

[mchiti]

tw loss

I recently had a convo with a friend of mine who never got to meet her dad because he passed away two months before she was born. And because we do talk about loss a lot, and because I always feel embarrassed to share my grief with her as she had it worse than me in that sense, I always stay in silence when she speaks. She does speak a lot on the importance of grieving and how it teaches you to find a balance and to know your place in this world and I'm not as good as her in this bc I don't know to what extent I agree - to me every pain is unnecessary, a crime, an obscenity, and I know this is also not what my religion has taught me and it does question a lot of my relationship with it as well, not gonna lie here.

Either way, she said to me today that she was almost glad that she never got to meet her dad because if she did, letting him go would have been much worse and that she feels sad for me. And I was at loss because it sounded very painful to me and I wanted to tell her that I actually feel the opposite - that I'm glad that I got to spend my life with my mum for 21 years and I can't imagine how painful would have been if I never knew her. We both felt we were one luckier than the other and that really hit me. I still think her pain is worse than mine but it made me think that maybe she's right, grief does enable us to see the light somehow, to understand things in a way, to feel empathic towards others, to balance out sadness and love. I don't know how to explain but maybe I will tell her next time.

#I went to see my team play on the anniversary it was the first time it happened. I usually hybernate during this week. #it's like a super duper slow process. super slow i'm not joking after 5 years sometimes it even feels worse #on a less serious note never was benji closer to score a gol than on last monday was that a sign ya Rab lol!!! mchallah 3omri and all🤍

[the-woman-upstairs]

Underrated Mission: Impossible moment that keeps me up at night is in Fallout, after Lane reveals he’s staying behind to die in the explosion, deciding he wants to torture and kill both Benji and Ilsa personally even though he’s confident everyone Ethan cares about will die anyway.

#mission impossible fallout #benji dunn #ilsa faust #mission impossible #i love philip seymour hoffman too but sean harris does not get enough love for the particular brand of sadistic nastiness he plays #can’t stand up against ethan physically so he goes after the two members of the team he feels he can dominate #the first time i saw fallout in theaters this scene nearly gave me a heart attack #something something the two people who keep being underestimated and/or targeted because they’re seen as ‘weaker’ #something something women + queer men teaming up against the man obsessed with cis male heteronormative performances of strength #every action scene does tremendous character work but this one really gets me because lane really hates these two #and benji’s been worried the whole time he’ll end up as collateral in ilsa’s pursuit of lane #but benji comes for her anyway and she picks benji’s life over killing lane and completing her mission #i am forever cursed to be obsessed with the relationship dynamics between side characters but these movies especially scramble my brain

[football-sucks]

#I don’t want us to win now Benji WHYYY #why do footballers do this #Theo Hernandez and Olivier I’m looking AT YOU #this is so French national team of him