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konigsblog · 9 months

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short random 141 headcannons, silly/fluff ☄️

ghost 💀;

absolutely hates coffee, avid tea drinker and refuses anything else. a lot of people assume that the cold-hearted killer, simon riley, would hate sugary coffee. but, truth be told, he has a huge sweet tooth that only price knows about, and has to keep him from eating too much.

growing up, he was quiet. a lot of people teased him for being so silent, including his friends, but only in a joking way. he's one of those kids that make friend's easily, just well-behaved in class to avoid stressing out his mother.

acts as if he hates johnny, but after that solo mission soap had, he grew more close to him. didn't like whenever john had to go on a mission without him in fear that he wouldn't return, gradually developed a fear of losing the team - something he'd always had, yet increased further after graves's betrayal.

has a high metabolism. he could eat way over his maintenance calories and not gain anything. he works out in his house during leave, usually eating quick takeaways or frozen meals, rolling his eyes whenever you bring up the state of the apartment. who cares, its not as if he's here most of the time.

soap 🧼;

absolutely loves getting drunk at a club with the team, has to be dragged home by price, him and gaz laughing maniacally at absolutely nothing.

he threw up on ghost afterwards.

because if his flirtatious personality, he's had many girlfriends. they never last long since he doesn't take the relationship's seriousness, still flirting with others as a joke, but offending whoever he's with at the time.

he isn't serious at all, which we've probably gathered from his personality. accidentally laughs at the wrong times, apologise profusely as they snarl at him. definitely gives off the wrong impression and gets embarrassed whenever price mentions it.

johnny knows what he's good at, he doesn't like being insulted by anyone, even as a joke. mention something about him not being as strong as ghost as he's pissed for the rest of the day. somewhat easily jealous, stemmed from when he was a rookie, lean with barely any muscle and constantly teased by others. (heard the last bit from another creator, but i can't remember the user for the life of me.)

gaz 🧢;

doesn't take alcohol very well, especially his hangovers. they're cruel, he has a pounding headache all day and throws up multiple times. laid in bed playing games the entire day, groaning as he feels himself burn up.

is terrified of bugs, absolutely hates spiders. doesn't give a fuck about the spider poem, will scream and crush them with his foot. probably came from when he was a child and got caught in a spiders web, cried to his mum.

definitely has a lot of sisters. they raised him well so he's very respectful in relationships and knows how to treat a lady right. when he was younger, his sister's would beg him to let them use makeup on him, agreeing and getting annoyed when he couldn't wash it off.

definitely youngest child energy.

price 🎣;

when he was a kid, he wanted to be something like a policeman or a firefighter, loves being in charge of stuff.

he's a true gentleman; will hold the door for his wife, giving her a bouquet of flowers whenever he can, kisses her all the time and compliments galore. he's a true fan of cuddling you from behind, sneaking up on you and kissing your neck, complimenting the meal you'd made.

took the 141 fishing, let's just say that it never happened again. it was all peaceful until johnny thought he a turtle, leaning over the lake and falling in. kyle laughed his ass off and simon sighed with disapproval, yet not surprised that he'd managed something like that. price lost a good fish trying to save him from drowning.

loves dogs, not small dogs (chihuahua hater), but big dogs. he loves german shepherds since he works with them, k9s. or a doberman, definitely owned a big dog when he was younger and has baby photos of him on it's back, only laswell saw them.

#cod headcanons #cod mw22 #orla speaks #call of duty modern warfare #task force 141 x reader #captain john price #captain price #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #gaz call of duty #gaz cod #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #modern warefare ii

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mayaheronthorn · 5 months

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I present you:

What would tsc characters (only main Shadowhunters) do if they lost their powers in TWP?

Clary - Artist (self explanatory, don't have to elaborate)

Jace - My man would probably want to be a policeman or some kind of self-defense instructor 😭

Alec - He would actually want to teach children archery, I stand by it!

Izzy - she would either work in some kind of fashion environment or be a bodyguard 🤣

Simon - mate would want to be a pro gamer but would end up as an IT guy

Emma - defo a swordsmanship instructor or just something dangerous 😭

Julian - another artist!

Cristina - a teacher, she's such a teacher!

Mark - mate knows absolutely nothing about how the mundane world works so it would be hard for him to find a job, but with those features he could become a model

Ty - a detective, who else

Kit - the old Kit would somehow open a casino and scam people but the new Kit AFTER SPENDING YEARS WITH TESSA he would want to study literature (this is my headcanon don't kill me)

Dru - she would be super excited to work in an amusement park in some kind of haunted house

#cassandra clare #the wicked powers #the shadowhunter chronicles #kit herondale #tsc #ty blackthorn #twp #the dark artifices #clary fairchild #jace herondale #alec lightwood bane #izzy lightwood #simon lovelace #emma carstairs #julian blackthorn #cristina rosales #mark blackthorn #tmi #the mortal instruments

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literatecowboy · 4 months

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Dr. Feelgood

10. The One Where Ghost Punches A Cop

Summary: You've been in trouble at work several times before for "lack of professionalism" but now you've gone too far. You've been reassigned to Task Force 141 as a temporary doctor to replace the ones they've made quit out of frustration. You must either prove yourself and earn your former position back at a prestigious military hospital in California or face dishonorable discharge. Author's Notes: This is my first fanfiction - please be gentle. Additionally, the reader's callsign is "Feelgood." I have done my best to write the reader as ambiguous regarding appearance, but she/her pronouns and AFAB anatomy will be utilized. I hope for this to be a slow-burn romance with Simon "Ghost" Riley. Warnings: Hospitals, angst, police, arrests, punching

Masterlist

-----

You were up an instant, the tears gone from your eyes but worry still clouding your heart. You turned the corner into the lone bedroom and locked eyes with Price who gave you a weak smile.

“Feelin’ better already,” he grunted, his eyes flicking behind you as Simon joined you in the doorway. “Son, if you don’t marry her, I think I might. Or at least, I’d like Soap or Gaz to. We’re keeping this one.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed playfully, unable to stop the smile and the warmth that crept to your face.

“You’re high, captain. Now settle back and relax, I’ll get you some water,” you said, slipping back out the door and heading for the kitchen. Simon stepped fully into the room, letting the door shut behind him as he took a seat beside the bed.

“Think I’d like to someday,” he said.

“What’s holding you back?” Price asked, trying to sit up in his bed but wincing at the pain caused by the exertion.

“Think she’d ever want her old life back? A fancy doctor in California giving up that lifestyle for a soldier who could die any moment?” he asked.

“Think she’d laugh you outta this house if she ever heard you call her fancy, mate.” Price said. Simon snorted and nodded, shaking his head.

“Don’t have to be a soldier forever, you know. Could make a life for yourself - something easier.” Price said, studying Simon as he sat staring at the bedsheets. This made the lieutenant sit up straighter.

“Don’t think I’m made for that. Don’t think any of us could…” he trailed off, meeting the captain’s gaze once more.

Their conversation ceased when you returned to the room, a glass of cool water in your hand.

—

Evac came several days later when the snowstorm had abated. A helicopter came to the field outside of the safehouse and retrieved all of you. Price was the first aboard and settled heavily into a seat near the back with your assistance. You sat beside him to keep an eye on him as the rest of the boys chucked the gear into the heli and hopped in. It took off before the door even finished closing.

The flight back home seemed quicker than the one to the mission, most likely because you were busy the majority of the time tending to the Captain. Near the end, Gaz and Soap stepped in so you could rest.

When the helicopter landed, the ground crew didn’t bother waiting until the rotors had stopped spinning to throw open the door. An unfamiliar medical team rushed to Price and, despite his protests, loaded him onto a stretcher and started loading him into the back of an ambulance. You leapt off out of the helicopter and jogged after him, attempting to climb into the ambulance with him, but you were held back back by a military policeman.

“Ma’am, are you the individual who performed an authorized appendectomy on Captain John Price?” he asked sternly. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz had come to your side now and you looked back at them with a furrowed brow.

“I am,” you said, folding your arms across your chest. “What is this about?”

“You’re being placed under investigation for criminal medical malpractice. I’m placing you under arrest.” he said, producing a pair of cuffs and taking ahold of your arm with a rough grip. Without hesitation, Ghost shouldered his way between you and the officer, shoving him back and ushering you behind him. Soap grabbed his arm and held him back and Gaz came to your side.

“Under whose authority? The doctor operated under the Captain’s own direction in order to save his life. To arrest her on such a charge would be inappropriate.” Gaz said.

“The order comes directly from General Shepherd - the very top. Step aside or I’ll have the rest of you arrested for obstruction of justice,” the officer ordered. Ghost bristled, but you lay a hand gently on his bicep.

“I’ll go willingly,” you said softly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You offered the officer your hands and he cuffed you immediately, your vision blurring.

“Call Laswell,” Ghost said, offering Gaz his phone, who looked confused.

“Why can’t you–”

Ghost took a step forward and dropped the military policeman with a single punch to the face.

—

Later that evening you sat against the wall of your holding cell, snuggled as much as you could be into Ghost’s side. He had slid a bulky arm through the bars to wrap it around you and sat quietly, rubbing your side as you sniffled.

“It was stupid of you to do that,” you mumbled, brushing away your tears with your sleeve. Ghost merely shrugged and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“They wouldn’t have let me come with you otherwise.” he said softly. It was quiet for a moment.

“I love you,” you whispered. Ghost squeezed you gently.

“I love you too,” he said after a minute. The sound of keys jingling broke the romantic moment.

“You’re out of here for now. Both of you,” the guard said, fitting the key first into the lock of your cell, then into the lock of Ghost’s. As you stepped into the hallway, Ghost took your hand again, and you walked together down the hall and toward freedom.

“You’re not being charged, lieutenant. And despite Captain Price vouching for you, General Shepherd is insisting that you be court martialed for your actions. A date will be set soon and you will stand trial,” the officer said. You were offered your belongings back and took them - Ghost’s gear from the mission had been returned to the task force.

Soap was waiting outside with a car and you pulled him into a tight hug the moment you saw him.

“How’s Price?” you asked immediately, holding him at arms length and looking deep into his eyes for any indication of bad news.

“He’s okay, lass. They took him in for a second surgery but you had done a good enough job. Gaz is with him now, they’re at the hospital. How are you holding up?” he asked. You shivered.

“It was…cold in there.” you murmured. Ghost rested a hand on your lower back.

“Kept ‘er safe. Let’s go see the captain.”

—

The ride to the hospital didn’t take long, but before you could enter and head up to Price’s room, your phone rang. The number was familiar. Ghost studied you as you shakily tapped answer and lifted the receiver to your ear.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Klein?” you asked, leaning against the car as it stood parked in the hospital lot.

“I’ve heard rumblings about you, doctor. You seem to have caused quite a stir during your time with the SAS.” he said, his voice not betraying any emotion.

“You know me, sir. Did you expect anything else?” you asked, doing your best to put on your most confident voice. Were you about to be fired? Kicked out not only from your position with the 141 but also from your position working with the American military in California?

“I went over the progress report submitted by one Captain John Price, and I must say that I am impressed. I did not expect you to make progress with your professionalism so quickly. It has been recommended to me that you return to your position here in California and be taken off of your probationary period effective immediately.” he said. Your mouth went dry and your heart fell into your stomach, a cold sweat blooming across your body.

“...What?” you asked, unable to control your emotions any longer.

“Your captain has insisted that you return and resume your position here immediately. I expect you by the end of the week.”

You hung up the phone, tears pooling in your eyes as your hand flew to your mouth.

“What is it?” Ghost asked, the concern evident in his voice as he took hold of your hands and gazed at you.

“Price gave the order for me to go back to California.”

—

“What the fuck is wrong with you, John?” you barked, pushing past Gaz in the doorway and shouldering your way into Price’s hospital room, your furious gaze locking onto him the second you located him. He raised his head from his pillow and gave a weak smile.

“Hello to you too, doc.” he said, sitting up slowly and settling himself in the bed.

“You’re getting rid of me?” you barked, your hands flying to your hips. “You’re the one who gave me the order to operate on you. I caught a fucking court martial because of you. I–”

“You’ll be safer in California.” Price said, raising a hand to silence you. “Shepherd is up to something. I don’t trust him, and it’s obvious that he’s trying to get rid of you. If you were to go back to California, you’d be out of harm’s way.”

“I’d still be facing a fucking court martial. What is going to do, kill me? I care too much about all of you to go back. I-I love Simon too much to leave. I belong here, with the 141” you said, your voice cracking. It went quiet, and Price sighed.

“I’ll help you fight it to the best of my ability. Laswell is working on getting the charges dropped already. If it’s really what you want…then you can stay.”

—

You left the hospital later that night with Soap and Gaz at your side. Simon had conspicuously disappeared not long after things had settled down and you hadn’t seen him since.

“Broody fucker is probably off lurkin’ in the shadows. He’ll catch up - no offense, but ya need tae go shower, bonnie,” Soap had teased. The three of you had driven back to your barracks together and they had seen you into your room before heading off to their own.

A long shower had you feeling better - it had been a long last few days, and as much as you wanted to collapse into bed and sleep your exhaustion away, you were starving.

You padded down the hall and toward the kitchen slowly, your fuzzy slippers protecting your feet from the cold, concrete floor of the 141’s residence hall. It was quiet with the exception of snores drifting out of Soap’s room - you couldn’t help but smile at that.

On your way back from the kitchen, snacks in hand, you noticed that the doors to your med bay were ajar. Upon poking your head in, you found that your normally locked office door was open too. Worry filled your heart and you padded inside to check for any intruder.

As you emerged from your office, the sound of boots on the tiled floor startled you. Ghost met you in the middle of the med bay, hands in his hoodie pockets. He wasn’t wearing his balaclava.

“Oh, you scared me, love. Where did you run off to?” you asked, offering him a tired smile as you moved to head back to your room. Simon held up a hand, stopping you.

“Wait,” he said, looking away and fiddling in his pocket nervously. “I’ve never been good at these things,” he muttered, producing a little box from his pocket. Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze.

“Sorry - didn’t know there were sizes. So I had to get this because I didn’t know yours,” he said, getting down to one knee and gazing up at you. There was no shake in his hands as he slid the box open, revealing a beautiful silver necklace with a small glittering stone set into it.

“Simon,” you whispered, and his eyes found yours.

“Would you marry me?” he asked.

-----

taglist: @iamaliceinwonderland, @itsmeamysworld, @ghostlythots, @oranoyaora, @keiva1000

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #mw2 #ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #cod modern warfare #simon ghost x reader

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fic-heaven · 3 months

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Brown eyes

(Jealous! Simon x reader x Gus)

A very short short of Simon's pov on your situationship with Gus mentioning Apple Pie flavored

🐥🐥🐥

Brown's the color of late autumn. Of hazelnut, of onyx, jasper and sweet hot chocolate you enjoy in the cold mornings of February.

Simon gave you a sense of security and authority, and with him, the 141, your family. Those brown eyes in the middle of the mist of black paint reminded you of their comfort and their love.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley was as tall as a tree, rough like an untamed bull, his big hands only gentle when he touched you in any way, even during sparring. Though you never seemed to notice, and your obliviousness seemed to only lure him closer eager to see just how far he had to go for you to notice his advances.

"He's my mentor, my friend, my lieutenant."

Your brain fogged the idea of Simon ever being a romantic interest. After all, any short of intimacy amongst piers (specially your lieutenant) was strictly prohibited and Ghost seemed to be the most professional out of the bunch of you. So what exactly could lead you to think he would even try to woo you?

His eyes, they spoke a hundred words in a dialect you didn't recognize. Not in a person like him.

You liked brown eyes.

But add those brown eyes a hint of gold and they become breathtaking, godly even. A tiny detail you never imagined in such an eye color, yet when presented to you, they stole your breath away. Add to those brown eyes that hint of gold, and a patch of tan skin, a big round nose, now some dark, wavy hair like a sea at late hours of the night with a shine only reserved to the strongest light, and as if it isn't enough hair, a funny moustache covering half of the most gorgeous plump lips begging to be kissed and nibbled on.

His body as a whole, spoke volumes of his life, a bunch of scars from his hours of service and some other old ones along small tattoos here and there he gained on his youth working as a lifeguard and a policeman in the rich beaches of Costa Rica. He was muscular man, with a big back and huge arms resembling a bear, you wondered if he was was as hairy as one too.

He was breathtaking.

Gustavo Rodríguez. An operator from an international, private military contractor named SpecGru, and the apple of your eye.

A fear Ghost never thought he'd feel awaked the moment he saw your eyes sparkle with longing and awe at the sight of this nobody, of this... Random soldier, running through the field firmly gripping his assault riffle during a mission on a hot summer day hours before you could formally meet.

He had noticed your attraction to this man even before you realized it one day in the base while eating apple pie and giving Gus puppy eyes.

He had noticed before you because that's what Simon always did. He observed, he watched over you at all times, he knew you better than you knew yourself. After all he was your mentor, your lieutenant and one of your closest friends. He was your shadow, your greatest match.

You just haven't realized it yet, and he'll knock the sense into you somehow. That's a promise he makes himself everyday when he spots you and that nobody together

#ghost cod #ghost x reader #gustavo rodriguez #my gustavito #mi osito gordito #call of duty modern warfare #cod #simon ghost riley #gus x reader #call of duty #cod gus #ghost x reader x gus

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fandom · 2 years

Photo

Lots of new releases last week, folks.

The second season of Netflix’s Young Royals dropped, welcoming Wilhelm and Simon back to the small screen. The Dragon Prince Book 4: Earth also dropped, and it was worth the three-year wait. Harry Styles fans are dissecting every part of My Policeman. GIF-makers are running wild with A Thing That Happened in Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir. Genshin Impact’s latest update has players all up in their feelings about everyone’s favorite evil puppet, Scaramouche. Henry Cavill is out as Geralt in The Witcher but back as Sherlock Holmes in Enola Holmes 2. Tumblr celebrated the second anniversary of Supernatural’s Destiel love confession. And, oh yeah, Ryan Reynolds is here now—welcome, @vancityreynolds. This is Tumblr’s Week in Review.

Young Royals

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir

Elon Musk

Halloween

Interview with the Vampire

Kit Connor

Genshin Impact

Ryan Reynolds

The Dragon Prince

Supernatural

My Policeman

Stranger Things

Artists on Tumblr

November 5th

The Owl House

The Witcher

Enola Holmes 2

Critical Role

Scaramouche | Genshin Impact

Marichat | Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Chat Noir, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

#week in review #11/07/2022 #ryan reynolds

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virgo-mess · 4 months

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Kidnapper for Hire

Chapter Two

This is going to be a two part chapter and this part is on the shorter side but I hope you like it anyway. I will probably do a little editing after I upload but there should be no serious changes

TW: Mentions of murder, Reader is being held hostage, police corruption, Cash is sending mixed signals but I think he's genuinely as confused as reader is, and I guess you could say the kiss boarders on dub con in this situation given the circumstances.

Kidnapper for Hire Chapter Two: Officer Giraffe

Reader’s Pov

You let out a soft sigh as you lay your head against one of the trucks seats with heavy eyelids. Your abductor had been driving for at least two hours now making small talk with you every so often, in what you think is an attempt to soothe you. Which you still find utterly confusing considering the circumstances, why didn’t he just get this out of the way this afternoon. You’d never admit it out loud but, he could’ve coaxed you into his truck at the café quite easily if he actually tried because although you found him intimidating you couldn’t deny you found him incredibly alluring. You would’ve thought a man as attractive as him would have at least an ounce of James Green’s inflated ego, you would argue someone as pretty as your kidnapper actually deserved to have such an ego. Sure, James was rich but truthfully that was the only thing moderately attractive about him and he knew it, you were honestly surprised he sent a man this handsome to get you because everything about James screamed insecure. That was why he had to buy everyone off, that was why he tried to buy you and Simone off, he knew deep down that regardless of money you wouldn’t pick him, especially not with options like the man he hired out there. Honestly, if James hadn’t sponsored that pageant, and you had simply passed him on the street you wouldn’t have given him a second glance. You assume the only reason he picked this man was because he was a cop, a dirty cop at that, you can’t help but wonder what James offered him in return for doing this and you also wonder if he knows he won’t actually be getting whatever it was he offered him. It was clear to you that after all had been said and done the only person with their hands dirty in the end would be him.

You continue to stare up at him from your position on the floor admiring the way the lights on the highway illuminate his pretty blue eyes. You can’t tell if he’s taking you out of the city, he got on the expressway a while ago, but you consider this may just be an attempt to throw you off. Amy already told you he was renting one of the properties near the Cape May Lighthouse, that should’ve been you first clue that something was amiss, families spent thousands to rent out the beach front houses on a weekly basis in the summer and most of them were from the wealthier parts of Manhattan. He didn’t strike you as a trust fund baby and the odds of a cop being able to afford one of those houses on a policeman’s salary were slim. You glance at him again and wonder why he’s still bothering to wear a ski mask when you already knew what he looked like, and he didn’t have a face that was easy to forget. Part of you just wanted him to take it off so you had something beautiful to look at in your numbered days left on this planet. Your love and sex life had been high and dry long before you ended up on that roof in Seattle. Contrary to what most people wanted to believe, even beauty queens struggled when it came to love and relationships. You never knew if someone genuinely liked you or if they just liked the way you looked, such was the case for your last serious relationship, the first and only one you’d ever really been in, and it only lasted your senior year at UCLA. To this day you still aren’t sure if your ex ever actually liked you because it seemed to you, he only liked the way people looked at him when he was with you. Sure, he bought you flowers once a week, but he could never remember what your favorite one was or what your favorite color was or even how you took your tea and coffee. Your split was amicable, but you regretted ever trying to be intimate with someone who didn’t even love you, you could count the times you had something resembling sex on two fingers and both times were awkward and deeply unsatisfying. To the point where you just didn’t have a desire to ever do it again.

So, needless to say, that sudden wave of arousal you felt while you were being taken against your will was bewildering. Even as you stared at him now, with your heart still heavy with trepidation, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him for some reason. You wonder if he knows he’s leading you to your impending doom right now, you still didn’t know why James killed Simone, but you were sure he thought you turning him in was a thousand times worse than whatever it was he thought she’d done. Considering he went through all this trouble to track you down, how he was able to find you in the first place was another issue entirely. He had to have had a connection inside the U.S. Marshals Service, you were beginning to regret not taking Jim’s call, but you can’t help but wonder if Jim was your betrayer.

“What are you thinking so hard about down there, princess” his deep teasing voice floods through the truck pulling you out of your thoughts, you feel a blush sweep across your cheeks as you realize you’d been staring at him for at least ten minutes. You blink a few times letting your eyes trail over his tall, muscled form as you contemplate what question to ask him first.

“Why are you still wearing a mask, I hate to break it to you, but I already know what you look like, Giraffe” you quipped, toying with one of your shoelaces absentmindedly as you stare up at him. You see his eyes narrow slightly as he let out an annoyed sounding sigh under his breath, you can’t help the amused smile that twitches on your lips when he yanks the mask off and plops it in your lap. His grey hair is a tousled mess, sticking up at odd angles but he somehow still manages to look like he belongs in a magazine spread. You wonder why he even bothered to become a cop if money was all he cared about in the world, he could’ve quite easily have been a successful model, actor, or dare you say male escort….

“Forgot it was on. Oh, Giraffe, that’s really cute princess. I don’t think anyone has called me that since I was ten” he said sarcastically, you don’t miss the snarky eye roll he gives you even in the dim lighting and you can’t help but roll your eyes yourself.

“What do you expect me to call you, it’s not like you introduced yourself when you broke into my house and kidnapped me, did you. I can think of a few other things to call you if you’d like, none of them will be quite that cute though” you said in a bratty tone with a slight scowl making its way onto your face as you stare up at him. Wondering where he found the audacity to be the one complaining right now. His body tenses slightly, as he glances down at you with an unreadable expression on his face before focusing his icy eyes back on the road.

“I’m not sure what you think you have to lose by telling me your name. We both know I’m not making it out of this alive anyway, surely James Green told you that. Since you’re the catalyst of my impending demise the very least you could do is tell me your name, officer Giraffe” you quipped sharply, you don’t miss the way his large, gloved hands tighten around the steering wheel, you find yourself wishing it was your neck instead, silently begging him to put you out of your misery. You watch his chest rise and fall with every deep breath he takes before meeting your gaze with intense blue eyes filled with a shocking amount of anguish as they stare back at you.

“He assured me you weren’t going to die, Y/N” he said calmly, you scoff looking up at him incredulously before letting out a bitter humorless laugh at his mock ignorance. If that was all it took to get him to kidnap you then he was a dirtier cop than you thought, no one could be that stupid.

“Don’t tell me you actually believed that I know you’re a dirty cop but not even you could be that stupid. You know it’s not true, you want to believe it is to make yourself feel better about what you’re doing which is fine but at least admit that to yourself. You’re a shitty person, own it, accept it, you’ve already decided my life is worth less than whatever it is he’s offering you so, you don’t have to convince me my life meant or means something to you at all. If it did you would’ve asked me why I moved across the country to get away from him, why I’m always alone when I clearly don’t want to be, or why I lock down my house every night like it’s the god damn white house. So cut the shit or shut up” you snapped, feeling your eyes sting a bit with fresh tears welling up in them, feeling completely overwhelmed. You take a few calming breaths but let the tears fall from your eyes because you can’t remember the last time you had even cried in the last two years. You didn’t cry at the station, and you never got to go to Simone’s funeral, so you didn’t go through the whole grieving process. You just shut down and went into a constant state of emotional numbness, you had no one to lean on the program required you to not contact former friends and family that weren’t in the program, and you were told to never return to San Francisco. The place where you and Simone grew up together, you had so many memories of riding the cable cars down to Fisherman’s Wharf to ride the carousal and seeing which one of you could eat a whole Killer Crab at the Crab House. You often wondered what your parents and Simone’s parents think happened to you or if they thought of you at all, at the time you thought it would be best to not get them mixed up in the mess you had found yourself in. You never considered the fact that to them it might feel like they lost two daughters that night, you always reassured yourself they would at least get closure once the Feds finished their case against James Green but now that possibility seemed more and more unlikely.

“Y/N, hey, shhh” he said softly, you jump slightly in surprise when you hear that name fall from his lips again, it still sounded so foreign, but you like the way it sounds when he says it for some reason and you hate yourself for it. You don’t reply as you curl your body away from him resting your head on the seat and pulling your knees into your chest. You watch the tops of glowing streetlamps pass the passenger window with silent tears rolling off your cheeks onto the car seat, two years’ worth of repressed emotions finally freeing themselves from their confines.

“What’s your name” you breathed out just above a whisper, you feel his arm stiffen slightly, halting the soothing passes, a bewildering wave of panic curses through you when he starts to pull away. “No, please don’t stop” you whined, turning your body to face him. He gazes down at you for a long moment, the soft yellow orange glow of a traffic light dancing on the side of his face as the truck comes to a stop indicating that you’re no longer on a highway. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you remember what’s actually happening and what he’s actually doing. You let out a shaky breath aggressively wiping the rest of your tears away as you move further away from him. Slightly angry with yourself for allowing that moment to even happen, you didn’t deserve to be comforted, you didn’t comfort Simone in her final moments, so why should you be comforted in yours.

You’re surprised to find that crying actually makes you feel better, relieved even, like the weight of some of the emotional baggage you’d been carrying around for two years was finally being lifted off your shoulders. You hear your kidnapper shuffling around for a bit before you feel his hand making soft passes through your hair, his fingers tuck some of it behind your ear and you notice he’s no longer wearing a glove. As he drags a knuckle gingerly down the length of your cheek, wiping a few of the tears away, you absentmindedly lean into his touch liking the way his slightly callused skin feels against your soft skin. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched or comforted you, let alone like this. So, you let him continue dragging his warm rough fingers down your skin and through your hair for what feels like forever, the gentleness he seems keen on showing you is still confusing. You’re sure James told him to keep you alive but a small part of you would be more accepting of your impending demise if your perplexing kidnapper cop was the one doing it because, at least then you’d know you’d die feeling somewhat content.

“Forget what I just said, I don’t want you to touch me, and I don’t want you to comfort me. Not now, not when you’re doing this to me, okay.” You snapped, surprising yourself with how confidently it came out because although you were strangely attracted to him, you were still very much afraid of him. You wonder how a cop, someone sworn to protect and serve others, could stray so far down a path like this. A green blue hue from the traffic light illuminates the truck and the side of his face but he makes no effort to hit the gas, still staring down at you.

“My name is Cash and I promise you’re not going to die; I will not let it happen, okay” he said just above a whisper, ignoring the angry blare of the car horn behind you as he looked at you with sincere blue eyes. Cash reached one of his hands out toward you, tucking it under your arm he pulled you onto the passenger seat with ease, he peels his eyes off you for a moment to step on the gas. You can’t bring yourself to focus on anything passing the windows because your eyes are locked on him, taking in his every move, every mannerism, with perplexed fascination. Cash keeps his icy eyes on the road with furrowed brows, looking like he was having an internal battle with himself as his glove free hand leaves the steering wheel to hover over your smaller one several times.

“I was really hoping you’d fall asleep before we get there, y/n..” He trailed softly, you tense up uncomfortably despite the gentle tone he uses, a soft whimper escapes your lips as you stare at him with untrusting eyes. Cash seems to resolve his internal dilemma upon hearing the sound fall from your parted lips his large glove free hand falls on top of your smaller one, dragging his calloused thumb over your soft skin gingerly. Another faint red glow flows through the windshield, and the truck rolls to a slow stop, the rev of the engine still vibrating through the leather seats. Cash’s large, muscled form ghosts the side of your body almost teasingly as he finally meets your gaze his eyes look less icy as they stare back at you this time, looking almost inviting in the dim glow of the traffic light and passing headlights.

“James won’t be there, y/n, I promise” he cooed into your ear, his lips lingering next to your face for a moment before settling on your cheek in the form of a kiss. The tender peck sends a shiver down your spine and a blush flooding to your cheeks as he pulls away to gauge your reaction. You furrow your brows as your perplexed fascination with him deepens, taking in his every move with curious eyes. Cash cocked his head at you, his eyes searching yours for something with a slight smirk playing on his lips in the dim lighting his thumb is still stroking the back of your hand slowly.

“What was that for” you said softly, staring at him intensely as he flicked his eyes back towards the now green traffic light wordlessly hitting the gas pedal.

“Why, do you want another one, how about I do you one better. I’ll give you a real one if you promise to go to sleep for me right now, princess and then I’ll tell you what it was for in the morning” he coaxed flirtatiously, you gasped softly staring back at him in disbelief.

“What” you said, Cash glanced at you with an unreadable expression as the truck slowed to a stop once again, his blue eyes were still soft as they scanned over your face for a moment.

“If you say, “I promise to go to sleep Cash”, I’ll give you a kiss goodnight, y/n and then you’ll go to sleep.” he crooned smirking at you in the dim glow of the traffic light. You cock an eyebrow at him in bewilderment as you stare at him with calculating eyes, wondering if he was being serious or just toying with you out of spite.

“I promise to go to sleep… officer giraffe” you said coyly, innocently batting your eyelashes at him but still somehow managing to keep a straight face as you gauge his reaction. He doesn’t seem half as bothered as when you called him that twenty minutes ago, in fact you think you saw an amused smile play on his lips for a moment.

“I suppose that close enough for tonight, princess” he said softly, slowly leaning his face towards yours, you feel your heartrate pick up suddenly feeling very nervous, you didn’t think he was actually going to do it. And now you couldn’t believe you were contemplating letting him do it, letting him kiss you when he had just taken you against your will mere hours ago. You find you can’t really think straight as his blue eyes inch closer to you, until they're indistinguishable blue blobs.

“Ready” he breathed out, his hot breath washing over your lips gently, your heart is pounding so fast you’re sure he can hear it above the faint sounds of car tires rolling over pavement. You inhale sharply, only giving him a sound of acknowledgement as your brain doesn’t seem to be forming words right now. Cash makes a pleased sounding murmur before letting his lip touch yours in a feather like peck that could hardly pass as a real kiss, it’s teasing at best, and you’re surprised to find yourself annoyed with him for it.

“That’s not a r…” your words die in your throat when he captures you in a second more intense kiss that had you fighting back a moan as you kissed him back. You hadn’t kissed anyone in about five years, and you couldn’t remember one ever feeling like this one and you couldn’t help but hate yourself for it. Cash pulled away abruptly, breathing heavily as he looked at you with dark almost confused eyes.

“Now, what did you promise me, princess” he coaxed, leaning back against the driver’s seat with an almost adoring smile despite the way the events have unraveled in the last couple hours and your impending doom on the horizon. You open and close your mouth to speak several times but can’t seem to find the words as you throw you head back against the car seat defeated. “Why don’t you lay your head on my lap, so you don’t hurt your neck, princess…” he said softly…

#thomas ian griffith #cash x reader #black friday 2007 #the kidnapping 2007

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wellbelesbian · 10 months

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Seven Sentence Sunday

thanks for tagging me @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @prettygoododds and @aristocratic-otter!

here's some lines from my COTTA fic! if you're unaware, my fic is set in 1984 and is about LGSM, an activist group that supported the miners when they went on strike.

"I have a question for you all- is it just me, or are the coppers getting lazy?” People murmur their assent as Simon continues, “I haven’t been hassled coming out of a bar in weeks! Do you think they finally got tired of listening to Wham and pretending not to enjoy patting us down?” A laugh goes up, but a fire has been lit in Simon’s eyes. “No, I think instead, they’ve found someone new to pick on.”

He holds up a newspaper, where the headline proclaims Strikes Enter Third Month, and below it, Picketers Clash With Police. A photo shows a mounted policeman, kitted out in riot gear, swinging a baton at an unarmed woman, "doesn't this look familiar?”

here's the photo i reference:

and this fic now has a playlist! it's still being added to, but it's a mix of protest songs and 80s bops.

i tag @ileadacharmedlife @martsonmars @imagineacoolusername @confused-bi-queer @ic3-que3n @forabeatofadrum @tea-brigade @bazzybelle @theearlgreymage @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @facewithoutheart @whogaveyoupermission @shemakesmeforget @letraspal @larkral @artsyunderstudy @hushed-chorus @blackberrysummerblog @cutestkilla @fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe and @ebbpettier

#six sentence someday #my fics #carry on through the ages 2023 #cotta 2023 #carry on through the ages

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p0rkbun · 11 months

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Ok but how about officer!Sam YALL-

*Playing Dangerous by Lana Del Rey is in my head rn*

when I saw officer sam, the song; policeman by eva simons came to mind 👮‍♀️

Hey ms. policewoman! I don’t want no trouble! 🙅🏻‍♀️

#i hope I served 🙇🏻‍♀️#art #my art #digital art #ibis paint #sam carpenter #art of solaris #scream #scream fanart #officer! Sam carpenter #melissa barrera #scream x reader

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popentertainment-moviereviews · 2 months

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LIMBO (2024)

Starring Simon Baker, Rob Collins, Natasha Wanganeen, Nicholas Hope, Mark Coe, Tiana Hartig, Alexis Lennon, Joshua Warrior, Craig Rossiter, Shannon Wilson-McClinton, Nicholas Buckland, Ricardo Del Rio, Andrew Dingaman, Yarron Jowsey, Saliesha Dingaman, Reg Roordink and Tania Roesch.

Screenplay by Ivan Sen.

Directed by Ivan Sen.

Distributed by Music Box Films. 109 minutes. Not Rated.

Limbo is pretty much the perfect name for the (fictional) town at the heart of this offbeat police procedural which takes place in a small, dilapidated burg in the desert of the Australian outback. Limbo is offbeat for many reasons, not the least of which is that if you are looking for typical mystery beats – like for example finding and punishing the bad guy – you may be looking in the wrong place.

Limbo is much more of a character study of horribly damaged people trying to survive in a hellish area, an examination on how crime can affect the people who knew the victim even decades later, and also a scathing political allegory about the racial divide in that country. And while some questions of the central mystery are answered here, many others are left hanging.

Limbo tells the story of a white Australian policeman named Travis Hurley, who is sent to the title town to look into a 20-year-old cold case about the disappearance of a young Aboriginal girl. She was a native, and a troubled girl, and at the time the case was looked into in a very slipshod manner. Even the new cop acknowledges that had she been a white girl, the case would have been handled completely differently at the time.

Twenty years later, memories are very hazy, some of the witnesses and at least one of the main suspects are dead. Frankly, those people who are still around do not trust the police enough to speak out, particularly not to a white policeman.

Of course, there may be a reason not to trust this cop. Our first introduction to him has him driving into town, checking into the local motel (a spectacular place with rooms and hallways which are actually carved out of the rock in a local cave) and shooting up with heroin until he passes out.

Travis is played by the only actor that most people will be familiar with here. It is a continuation of the return to his native land for Simon Baker, best known as the lead in the long-running TV series The Mentalist and for roles in films like LA Confidential and The Devil Wears Prada. Baker is honestly just barely recognizable here – with multiple assorted tattoos, an emaciated build, a severe buzz cut, a scruffy beard and mustache. Literally, I spent the first five minutes of the film trying to figure out if that was really him on the screen.

Baker has spent the last few years (mostly since the pandemic, it seems) back in his native Australia, taking on harsh, realistic roles which bely his pretty-boy reputation in American television and film. Good for him for taking on this risky career reinvention. Limbo has some of his finest work.

Limbo takes place in a dust-strewn, depressing area of the Australian Outback. (The film was filmed in Coober Pedy, a tiny speck on the Australian map which was known for the mining of opals.) It is a world that is well known by the Indigenous filmmaker Ivan Sen, who gives the town of Limbo an oppressive sense of heat, dirtiness and desperation, which is only enhanced by the film’s crisp black and white cinematography. The film is an arid, oppressively sun-drenched film noir. (And yes, I get the fact that sunny and noir seem to be a contradiction in terms but watch Limbo and you’ll see.)

Travis may be a visitor to the town, but you realize quickly that he knows this kind of place well, and the town’s decrepit sense of sweltering rot mirrors the policeman’s psyche. Still, despite his depression and pessimism, Travis does believe in justice, and he does seem to truly want to help solve the case, no matter how futile his efforts may be.

He enters into a fragile relationship with the town and its citizens. He particularly connects with the victim’s brother Charlie (Rob Collins), with whom he even eventually reaches the tentative beginnings of a friendship, and his estranged other sister Emma (Natasha Wanganeen), who becomes almost a wife-figure to Travis, although in a platonic manner.

Even if Travis can’t give them an answer about their sister’s fate – and neither of them seem to expect an answer to be possible – perhaps Travis can mend the rift between the siblings and come to terms with some of his own demons.

There are no happy endings in Limbo, just a sense of incremental healing. Maybe that is all anyone can expect in that world.

Jay S. Jacobs

youtube

#Limbo #2024 #Movie Review #Simon Baker #Jay S. Jacobs #Youtube

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tassodelmiele · 2 months

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Noisy little mess

Hi cuties, i'll leave this here for your entertainment.

A little fic i've written just for fun, i don't even know if i'm gonna make it longer or leave it as a one-shot experiment.

Hope you enjoy!

And hope my english is not a mess too

DISCLAIMERS: ReaderxGhost, smut (not so much, but we have masturbation and a little bit of anal fingering, dunno if you may like, but really it's just a hint), dirty talking, chocolate for breakfast, little bit of moans, dom, gym rat character (yes i can't live without weights).

..............................................................................................................................

I believe Simon is that kinda man who starts with the rough way, being the "bad policeman".

At first he doesn't trust you.

Obviously.

You get acquainted, begin to talk more often, share moments together: he drinks his coffee for breakfast, complaining about the lack of tea at the base, while you spend twenty minutes backing your cocoa oatmeal with chocolate on top. He glares at you like you're some sort of stupid child, but eventually he helps you reach the top shelf where someone put your goddamn honey (white sugar is for the weak), since you're a gnome.

And the two of you start to talk. Well, at first you exchange brief comments and monosyllabic answers.

Than some curiosities escape through your lips: about what the hell are you doing at the base (you've appeared from nowhere all of a sudden), why you've chosen the military life (since you really do look like a little happy garden gnome); why he's wearing the scariest of the mask you've ever seen (he won't answer to this, though); why you and Jhonny keep on exchanging slaps on the butt (someone have lost a bet).

The day he'd spotted you make your kinda breakfast for Gaz too (he's got a sweet tooth), you'd ended up baking for the entire task force. And your chocolate get right to their hearts.

He keeps on looking at you with curiosity. Sometimes he thinks you're a little bit…dumb. He thinks it a lot: when you try to open the door with your elbow since you've got fresh nail polish and don't wanna ruin it (in a goddamn military base); when you daydream about where would you like to do a piercing, spending every pause from work looking at pinterest references. When he finds you eating breakfast at 5 am, or laying everywhere on the ground under the sun (he asked you about it, and you answered that you were doing photosynthesis). He does think you live in your magical world made of unicorns and chocolate.

Then he sees you at the gym, deadlifting a goddamn truck, pushing hell with your chest which seemed so little to him, carrying weights that the other rookies could only dream about.

You end every training drained from every bit of energy, doing whatever you have to even if some mornings you'd rather jump from an airplane; and every training finishes with a big smile toward your Lt., which seems so proud of you, a little gnome made out of bricks and chocolate.

He starts to trust you. You've never fought together on a mission, but he begins to look at you as a reliable human being. At least none of his comrades had died 'cause of your breakfast yet, you've never missed a meet, you finish your duties every day.

The other guys from task force 141 seem to like you like some sort of stray kitten suddenly jumped at the base, treating you like a little one even if you're almost thirty. But it doesn't seem to annoy you, and your weird friendship with Soap and Gaz ends up doing "photosynthesis" together in the little garden spot under Price's office window.

Everything is cool, everything is nice…till something goes wrong.

And there you are, one particularly lonely night, in the precise month period in which you could fuck a light pole (thanking your incoming menstruations), with hormones filling you like a pie and almost dripping from your nose.

There you are, closing your eyes, lying on the bed with your legs spread, thinking about whatever helps you finish your "necessary duty" as soon as fuck.

There you are, touching you like crazy, rubbing that poor clit of yours just to try gain some peace of mind.

You're usually silent: neither a breath nor a moan. But this time…this time it's too strong, you're too needy, your brain is melting under the pleasure and the smallest, tiniest whine escapes through your lips.

The next morning starts with this question, a large cup of coffee (you've slept like shit), your oatmeal and Ghost's eyes looking at you silently, inquiring, unreadable.

He waits for an answer, and your eyelid glitch.

Fuck

And you know he heard. 'Cause you know, there's no need to ask.

<No>

You surprise even yourself by being so honest. You're ready to make something up, even if he doesn't need to know why you weren't good.

But he stay silent.

And you bury your face in the oatmeal.

The entire day was spent submerged in documents and bureaucracy, so gym had to be done after dinner. You don't feel at ease: even in your oversize jumpsuit it seems that every seam is made just to collide with your sensitive spot, that's still hurting from yesterday night.

You go straight to the lat machine, charging all of the weight you can, trying to distract your fucked up brain.

You do the first set: it's hard, but you can handle it.

You do the second: at the third rep, you barely manage to bring the weight midway to you. Your back is pulling at its limits, your eyes are squeezed, lungs are burning with the lack of oxygen…and, at your limit, you open your eyes, looking at the mirror in front of you.

Error 404

The reflection of Ghost, incredibly showing his arms muscles in a t-shirt which you've never thought could fit his wardrobe, hit you like a truck. It's not just the arms: it's the veins and tattoos, biceps and strength, it's whatever you'd like to bite and you know you'd let his hands smack your body like a pillow.

All of a sudden.

Just 'cause you do like big muscles.

Or just 'cause you're craving to be touched like a clown fish craves his fucking anemone.

Your arms get weak for one goddamn second: you lose the grip on the weight, and a terribly audible, almost hissed moan runs through the gym.

You bite your lips immediately. That moment will be remembered as one of the shittiest times in your life, and you're wondering if it's better pretending to be dead on the seat, or running away with nonchalance…when your back bumps into something.

You raise your eyes, and he's crouched behind you.

Thank god you're alone.

Thank god you're behaving better than last night.

Thank god you're still sitting on the lat machine, since you wouldn't be able to stand.

You shake your head, not daring to speak. You don't know what could get out of your mouth.

His hands have reached your sweatpants in a blink of an eye, rough enough that you thought you had to say goodbye to the elastic band; he's slipped under your panties, making some sort of low groan as he feels on his gloves how wet you are.

And now he's sailing in your cunt in every direction, making you tremble like an idiot clinged on the machine.

<There's no use in being so fucking silent now. You should've think about it earlier>

He takes his hand off your panties, and for good measure he slaps on your pussy so hard you know it will grow a bruise.

You're swallowing hot air, letting your shoulders bump in small movements as your breath is scattered, fast, hissed through your teeth.

And his already wet hand reaches your mouth, stuffing it with your juices, pressing on your tongue and sliding so deep inside that your throat starts to twitch. Mouth gets wet, filling with saliva, and you desperately try to not choke with his fingers still inside.

But he's got other plans; and leaning so close to your ear that you can feel the texture of his mask, he orders:

<don't you dare swallow, sweetheart>

And you stay still.

Because you're an idiot? Maybe. A masochist? You've never thought so, but apparently yes.

You stay still while your body jerks by himself on the seat, trying to concentrate on your heavy nose breathing. Saliva drools over your chin in sticky, wet wires, and he collects them on his thumb, pulling them back on your mouth.

You don't even dare looking at the mirror in front of you. Your pussy is a lake, so wet your ass could slip on the panties.

He knows.

And the other hand of him suddenly runs again under your underwear, pressing where the sun doesn't shine, sliding one finger in that hole in such a fast motion that you can't help but cry.

It hurts

It does, but the mixture of pain and arousal is confusing you. Your brain is not working, eyes start to get wet and mouth is choked by your saliva and his fingers, and everything smells like cunt's juices.

He pushes his finger deeper, and you know he's looking at your face through the mirror, dear god.

His mask brushes again on your ear, on your cheek.

<You're gonna take everything, aren't you? You're tightening your ass pussy around my fingers, cumming on me like the good kitty you are, mucking up my gloves with your stinky juices»

There's nothing really right: the hole isn't the right one, the place isn't the right one, his tone and his attitude are colliding so badly with the picture of him you've got in your mind.

But somehow you're managing to not question things.

You just can't. You're fried, burned, a little knot of dirty mess and moans choked in your guts and dripping in wetness, all tied in his grip, in his harsh voice, in his rough fingers that are digging everywhere but where you're desperately needy.

And you can't take anymore of it.

It's like hearing yourself from outside when you speak, every words trembled and choked in your saliva that's totally overflowed on your chin:

<please…i…need…>

Your brain doesn't allow you to finish the sentence, and Ghost chuckles on this last spark of dignity you have.

He lets another finger slide inside your ass, pushing roughly to make space.

His fingers get out of your mouth, just to spank your pussy again, making you finally break a loud moan.

He grips your throat in his hands, squeezing till he feels every ring of your windpipe under his fingertips.

Then he lets go.

He releases your body all of a sudden, leaving you empty and throbbing, wet and still needy, almost choked by your own saliva.

And he seems…satisfied, somehow. Satisfied just by your only, lonely moan, wringed out of you with so much diligence.

You, his noisy little mess.

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#cod modern warfare 3 #cod modern warfare #call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost #fanfiction #another of my english writings attempts #dom/sub #i don't know if i would like to be called kitty but somehow i can immagine him do this dort of thigs #gnome is a better nickname #cod fanfic #oneshot

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