cyanide-capsules - Tumblr blog

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LETS GOOOOOO

I think they play papas games durring breaks

With and without hater bubble oufh they r so dumb send help

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thanks for your attention

Spooky Month 6 Radford (and Kevin i guess) Collection! For the 3 existing Radford fans

[cyanide-capsules]

Spooky Month 6 Radford (and Kevin i guess) Collection! For the 3 existing Radford fans

[cyanide-capsules]

Spooky Month 6 Radford (and Kevin i guess) Collection! For the 3 existing Radford fans

[cyanide-capsules]

Spooky Month 6 Radford (and Kevin i guess) Collection! For the 3 existing Radford fans

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there are so many mpn2 dialogs that I find extremely funny but this one specifically is just great

So either he can lift the car with one arm and change the tire with the other

OR

He lifts the car with his legs and uses his arms to change the tire

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Random character musings tonight,,

Can be read as romantic or platonic most were not intended as one or the other.

tw // implied s/a with Ghosts

Farah, who trusts Alex enough to put down her strength. Not drop it, or lose it. To simply, put it down for a while, let it, and herself rest. To hang it up with her coat at the door and join him for a warm breakfast.

She's protected herself, relied on nobody but herself for so long. A second pair of hands is unwelcome at first. Slowly, but surely, she learns that it wasn't about her having to stop taking care of herself, but more, allowing someone else to help as well. It didn't have to be one or the other, the two can coexist, just as she and Alex do.

Alex, who suffers through spells of phantom pains so intense they leave him a shell of the soldier he always is. Clutching at what was once there, whimpering and crying like a wounded animal. Unable to move from wherever he had been when it started, if he was lucky, in bed or the couch, where he was alone. Where it didn't matter if he was weak. If he wasn't lucky, a more populated area like the common room or training center, where he would have to ignoring the agony spreading through him with his usual grin, excusing himself as soon as he could under whatever excuse he could muster up.

He isn't used to stopping, or slowing down. He hates not being of use. He bites back another sob as Farah strokes his hair, muttering to him that the pain will pass eventually. That he doesn't need to be of use, that not every day can be spectacular and productive. That sometimes one days achievement can just be making it to the next.

Alejandro, who's haunted by nothing more than the thought of losing Rudy. Ever since saving him from the fire, the realization that the man he's known all these years was not invincible hit him harder than any injury he's ever received. Sure, it was a stupid realization, but he had never in his life come so close to loosing him until then.

He's all over Rudy the moment he's dispatched from medical. Careful hands avoiding every bandage and burn on the other man. Whispering apology after apology for his foolishness, for not going into the house with him, for not realizing until now how much he needed Rudy. The ever brave Colonel Vagas, crumbling under the weight of every bit of grief he's ever experienced at just the thought of burying his second in command.

Ghost, who's terrified beyond his own capacity of physical intimacy, physical touch in general. Every lingering hand brings back unwanted memories of unwanted hands against his skin, every accidental graze against him sends him spiraling. He covers himself head to toe to protect himself, mentally. Turtlenecks, long sleeves, long pants, gloves, even during the dead of summer.

He knows good and well that skin against his own will bring out panic. He'll never forgive himself for the time Soap pat him on the back, the slight brush against his, at the time, exposed neck threw him off his feet, within seconds he had elbowed Soap in the nose before he even realized who he was. He wonders what he did to deserve someone so patient, Soap hadn't ever held the moment against him, even when he had to wear a face cast for weeks.

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Alex Keller was a very open man, or at least that's how he came off.

He was friendly, wide-eyed, the kind of guy you feel like you've known all your life. He seemed to naturally click with everyone he spoke with, including the 141.

Simon Riley was the opposite of him, he was a skeptic. Closed off, suspicious of those he didn't know. This was no different with Alex than anyone else, but there was something about the bright eyed American that made Simon's brain tick.

He didn't know exactly why he felt more on edge around Alex than other new people he met, and he wouldn't understand why until he overheard a conversation between Alex and Gaz.

"Alex man, can you keep a secret?"

Alex laughed. "Do you even know when my birthday is?"

Gaz laughed along, but something seemed to click with Simon.

He knew.. Nothing about Alex.

His middle name, his birthday, where he grew up, his favorite colour, nothing.

That's why he had been so off-put by him, the man was a complete mystery. A mystery that nobody even considered solving because Alex just naturally came off as an open book.

He didn't know what to think from then on, he tried to dig up what he could on Alex but knew he wouldn't find much without the assistance of Laswell.

He spent weeks avoiding the American, narrowing his eyes at him when he was in his vicinity, completely unaware that the two of them shared such similarities.

Two enigmas, one much more obvious than the other.

It wasn't until some random Wednesday night, nobody awake but the stars. Simon stumbled upon Alex just outside the bases front door, a lit cigarette nursed between his fingers.

He wanted to ignore him, go back to bed, but he found himself stepping outside with the other.

Alex acknowledged him with a smile and a nod, but didn't speak. Simon stared at him, not bothering to hide the fact that he was searching for answers in the other man's warm gaze.

There was a thick silence between them, it wasn't uncomfortable but, it was far from comfortable at the same time.

Alex broke it first.

"I take you're not a fan of me?"

He chuckled dryly, humorlessly. An observation Simon couldn't say he expected. His eyes didn't leave the American, watching closely as he took a drag off the cigarette. He didn't know Alex smoked but, then again, what did he know about Alex?

That's the entire reason he was here.

"Don't trust what I don't know."

Simon finally replied, though by now it was more of a statement on its own than an actual response to his comment.

Alex shrugged, he didn't seem at all bothered by Simon's reply. Silence spread between them once more, Simon didn't like Alex's lack of response.

"You're ex-CIA, that's all anyone knows about you. Nobody knows anything about you, but they trust you."

Simon continued, he wanted answers, he wanted a reason to trust the other man. Alex was quiet, tapping the ash from his cigarette before he replied.

"What was that saying? Those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones?"

In any other moment, Simon would have been offended by the comparison. But, Alex was right.

They were, almost scarily similar in every aspect but their personalities.

Silence again. It was more welcome this time around. Simon always appreciated the quiet when he needed to think.

The silence didn't last too long this time, Alex spoke up again.

"Humor me, do you ever forget that you're a person and not just a soldier?"

That question alone haunted him for days, Simon now felt uncomfortably aware of Alex.

The way the americans grin always seemed to falter ever so slightly when he held it, how his gaze would fog over at the scent of smoke or when it got too quiet, how his prosthetic always seemed to be moving in some way or another.

He was aware now, aware of the similarities they shared.

Aware of how, just like him, Alex was a soldier before he was a man.