high-on-sonder

[high-on-sonder]

price

[high-on-sonder]

Nikolai and Simon's asses are so thick it makes shorts sheer whenever they do squats.

Poor fabric clinging onto fear life as both John and Johnny stare with far too much intent at their partners.

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Soap as an expert sniper and demolition technician getting loaned to a different team for 4 months. It's light work, easy as could be. But the CO is an idiot, a moron with no idea what he's doing, and soap doesn't know how he got so far.

Someone makes a crude joke about soap needing to be muzzled about a week and a half into stay away from home when he's angrily objected in a mission briefing. And the CO finds it endlessly hilarious. Soap can laugh it off easy enough, and it is funny at first. Sure it gets old after a while, but again, it's easy enough to brush off.

Until he can't brush it off. Until he objects one too many times and this CO tosses an actual fucking muzzle on the table like he's a dog, and he cackles when he makes soap put it on. It's a punishment tactic. The humiliation. Soap's experience it may times. And put the most wild of greenies feel it just the same. But never this far. Never of this severity for days, weeks, months at a time. And the harder he fights it. The more he objects, to anything, the worse it gets. A leash and collar to make him follow the CO around when he's been "bad".

By the time he gets back to home base they still haven't removed the muzzle, and he can't pick the lock with the angle it sits on his head. He offloads onto the tarmac with dull eyes and an overgrown mohawk, collar and leash not on but held tight in his fist.

Ghost's eyes get hard as soon as he sees soap's adornments. What is the meaning of this. The disrespect to himself to adjust his Sergeant. The disrespect to Soap for even the mere thought of what's been done. He wants to take a minute alone to get that tool off his Sergeant's face, but the delay may land a punishment on soap.

Ghost turns when soap gets near enough, and soap knows enough about the man to follow him. As expected he finds himself a meeting room with the remaining two of the 141 and laswell on a video call to assess the success of his deployment. All their eyes snap to the mess of metal and leather on his face

And price's voice has an edge to it when he asks for a report. He's lucky he had the foresight to have it all typed up and he slides his phone over to Gaz for the man to read it aloud. Gaz. He trusted gaz. He's know how to say what he meant, wouldn't omit the words the seemed useless, wouldn't have to stop to control the violence in his voice.

And when Gaz gets finished reading his report Price lets the silence sit for a minute. Dismisses them for half an hour so he can collect himself. Tells Ghost to "get that thing off him"

Gaz leaves almost faster than the words leave the captain's mouth, and soap wants to go after him. But even more than that, his fingernails are starting to itch again with the need to claw the muzzle off his face. And he's at his limit of resisting that urge. So he lets ghost chase him to his room. Follows Ghost's direction to sit down. To stay still. He trembles from his neck to his head and he can't make it stop as Ghost works. The lock isn't a complicated system, but it's tight and it takes more than a little force to get the pins to turn. And soap can't stop bouncing his leg, and it annoys him to no end. And he thinks he may throw up. Or explode. Or scream. Or die, maybe.

And then he feels the mechanism click, and Ghost pries the offending piece of equipment off him. And he breathes. He can actually breathe.

And then he retches. Accidentally. Nothing comes up. He swallows the nausea. Forces it back down.

But ghost is already hovering face infront of his own, bucket placed between his knees. He meets Ghost's wildly concerned eyes but he retches again. Into the bucket he spits thick spittle and nothing else with his eyes clenched, and he's vaguely aware that Ghost is talking to him, but he doesn't know what he's saying.

He lets out a shakey breath, his stomach churns but he doesn't think it'll happen again. He hopes. Ghost cradles his jaw, massaging it gently, and Soap leans into the touch. Ghist has him, he said so, and Soap trusts Ghost. He feels sick. Wrong. But Ghost, he feels right.

Ghost makes him feel right. Makes him feel better. Makes him feel-

Gaz his mind reminds him. He needs to find Gaz

"We have to-" he smacks his lips. The words feel unnatural now, "- Gaz."

"Gaz?" Ghost looks at him like he's lost his damn mind. And he did. He had. But he's all better now. And Gaz isn't. Gaz is his best fucking friend and he's not okay. He saw the horror in his eyes when he bolted fro. The meeting room.

"He's- we have to find him. He's being sick right now."

Realization seems to pass over Ghost's face, and he helps Soap up.

He doesn't know how long they have before they're meant to be back in that meeting room, but it's probably not long. And Soap knows that if Gaz had his way he'd show up exactly on time and he'd say nothing. He likes to suffer alone. And Soap gets it. He really really does. But Gaz never lets him suffer alone, and Soap won't let Gaz do so either.

His first instinct is to bang his fist on Gaz's door until he opens up, but gaz had left the *other* way to the opposite side of base. And the bathrooms were all to easy to be walked in on. And the next obvious direction was... outside. And dread shoots down his spine. Spring had come and with it, spring showers. And the sky wept. And kyle was out there.

Soap doesn't hesitate as he bolts put into the rain. He's out here somewhere. But soap can barely see two feet infront of him, and Gaz could be in about six different places — and that's just off the top of his head. But there's no time like the present, and no way to starts without action. He heads for the closest spot. He's soaked to the bone almost immediately, and Ghost is making it no easier by trying to convince him to go back inside. He's not behind the main building nor in the laundry rooms. There's a vacant spot on the noot between the armory and the motorpool too. The come up empty after the offices and Ghost decides he no longer has a choice, picking him up and carrying him back inside when they have judt enough time to towel off and change before they're called back to the meeting. And Gaz will be there. Without a doubt.

Exactly on time when they arrive is Gaz. Except he looks... fine. He's not.. and soap still feels like a wet cat. But he's too busy wrapping his arms around Gaz to care.

"Tav."

"Kyle. The rain- I-"

"I know, Tav. I didn't. I didn't." Soap sags just a little more into him. Gaz pushes at his shoulder, "let me see you."

Soap allows it. Lets Gaz grab his face. Turn it this way and that., "better like this." Gaz tells him as he lets him go.

Price still looks like murder when they walk in, but now it's closer to first degree than it is manslaughter. Laswell's face is hard set on the screen and there are documents pulled up next to her.

"Soap. Sitrep."

"They used me like a fucking tool, Captain." Soap was angry now. And it felt good. And Price always liked when he was angry. Said it meant his head was in the game, and they didn't always agree, but Price never shut him up.

"You got a bad habit of finding shitty COs, Son."

"Not you though."

Price gave him a thorough once over and nodded. "Laswell."

"John, that CO you got sent to has had a lot of dirt swept under the rug. It's bordering on treason. Lots and lots of complaints, harassment — lots of it — most of it physical, abuse of power, disregard of human life, and 'suspicious activity' — no notes on what that means."

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Frogs. Chat. Frogs.

Anyways, I think if Price was to ever argue with Miss Kate 'going to detain and throw your ass in jail' Laswell, the both of them would end up losing because like.

c'mon.

Which provides a nice segway for me to do this.

The amount of blackmail between them is comical at this point.

If anything, Laswell would say she's a patient woman. Working with a base full of Britain's finest soldiers (one of whom got an actual crayon stuck up his nose), she would say she's a part time babysitter. Hell, sometimes, she even jokes that she would have been better off a kindergarten teacher. Perhaps then she wouldn't have to deal with obnoxious men constantly trying to one up each other.

But this... walking into the pilot frantically sipping up his pants in the captain's office, John's familiar soles peeking out under the table was not exactly something she wants to find in a kindergarten (under normal circumstances)

But neither was watching Nik's face grow red in embarrassment a luxury she could have afforded if she did work at a kindergarten.

How amusing. And here she was, thinking that Nikolai was a man with no shame.

Really, it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were doing, flushed cheeks and all. Hell, John's desk was a bloody mess, a vague human shaped imprint made of sweat was left on the oak wood. Bloody fucking idiots who can't even clean up after themselves.

"Nikolai."

She wasn't impressed.

"Da, Laswell."

The waver in his voice was almost comical. Somewhere in the silence, a soft rustle came from under the desk.

"There's cameras in every office in this building. I hope you're aware of that"

Laswell has to admit. Nik's usual professionalism changing into a horrified look was amusing.

Yea, Nik was screwed. In both senses of the word. The only shuffle that came between this standstill was John standing up. Far too mortified as his eyes darts around trying to find the secret cameras.

"...Da."

Caught like some goddamn kid with his hands in the cookie jar, Nik only shuffles in his seat, mouth opened in a silent remorse.

The silence hung between them before Laswell leaned forward, eyes glancing at John's face once.

"Y'know... Government funding is the only thing paying for this office... The chairs...desks.... Mugs..."

Her voice trailed off. She was getting far too much glee at berating the two sheepish men.

"Perhaps I should inform the office that the pilots services are no longer needed?"

And... there it was, the shit eating grin on Kate's face. John had known her for a long time, long enough to recognise the glee in Kate's eyes as she spoke, the way her feet seemed to bounce from glee. The smug bastard was there, standing at the doorway with a grin, whistling like nothing was happening.

"December. 1996."

John's eyes narrowed in reply, crossing his arms as he stared down the woman across from him.

Laswell's face scrunched up at the threat, eyes narrowing.

"October, two years ago."

"Berlin, 2001."

"The Pripyat base."

"Last year's Halloween party."

"New year's eve. 2000"

The two of them stood in silence, eyes leveling each other before Nik quips in.

"... The last Christmas party?"

John and Kate's face turned into subtle annoyance at the mention of that party. Where John had given some poor bastard a lap dance in a bar and Laswell had gotten so shit faced drunk that she ended up vomiting half way while making out.

A disaster at its finest.

Nik, the bastard was throwing them both under the bus it seems.

The book in Laswell hands couldn't have hit Nik in the head fast enough, nor would John ever be able to smack his husband so hard ever again.

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physically go to your local library at least once. seriously.

look around. find a random book with a cover that catches your attention. read the description. read the first page. if you like the sounds of it, borrow it and take it home to read. borrow a handful of books even.

if a book loses your interest, drop it. if a book grips onto you, ride that wave.

i've struggled to read recreationally for years despite having read so much as a kid. a lot of us are frozen by the seemingly infinite choices. even when we buy books to take home, we don't read them because which book is worth reading first? we don't have to decide, we have it right here in our bookshelves, we have an eternity of never deciding.

in this past month, i have read five books, most of them i've never heard of when i spotted their cover at the library. most of them, i've ended up loving. the due date of library books maintains the ability to read a book so i can return them to the library and leave the library with more books. an even better incentive than borrowing ebooks, because i actually have to leave the house and not be a hermit.

so if you used to enjoy reading but struggle with it now, ignore the book recs you hear. go to the library, come across a book that piques your interest, and read one page after another until you either lose interest or finish the book.

then it's onto the next one.

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The 141 get a new recruit, some arrogant sergeant who desperately wants to impress Ghost and despises Soap. One day he marches into the mess where the team are eating and starts going off about Soap being a gay, trying to embarrass him.

Ghost, turning to Soap, with no inflection: "Soap, why didn't you tell me?"

Soap, shrugging and continuing to eat his mash: "I did try."

Ghost, nodding: "Ah, so that's why your tongue was in my mouth."

Soap: "Nah, that was my cock in your arse last night."

Price and Gaz, absolutely dying:

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I want to take a heaping batch of #captain john price and spread it all over me like I’m that peanut butter baby. You know the one.

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We Won’t Forget The T Holographic Bumper Sticker by The PO Box Store

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A relative of Vice President JD Vance says an Ohio hospital has refused to put her 12-year-old daughter on its heart transplant waiting list over her vaccine status. Jeneen Deal, a mom-of-12 from Indiana who is related to Vance’s half-siblings through marriage, adopted Adaline from China as a 4-year-old knowing the little girl had two heart conditions, Ebstein's anomaly and Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome, that meant she would one day require a transplant. The girl has been receiving treatment from the Cincinnati Children’s Hospital, a leader in pediatric organ transplantation, for almost a decade. On January 17, Deal said Adaline’s doctor confirmed to the family that she was in heart failure. “My heart's getting sick,” Adaline Deal told Local 12. “I get tired. My legs get [too] tired to stand.” The facility requires that heart transplant patients receive vaccinations for Covid-19 and flu as recipients are at much higher risk of infection – something the Deals aren’t willing to allow for their daughter. Deal and her husband Brayton, who are both members of a non-denominational Christian church, said that the vaccines conflict with their religious and medical beliefs and that they would not be willing to inoculate their daughter.

The 12-year-old has been receiving treatment for two heart conditions, with her doctor confirming last month that she was in heart failure. (Supplied/Jeneen Deal)

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Soap: Mum, dad, I'm bisexual Soap's parents: We know Soap: Here is my boyfriend, Simon Soap's parents: That's nice Soap: He's English Soap's parents: We're disowning you

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the vocabulary of loss is the dictionary

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Thank you, Lou! 💜

Following the shitshow that was 8.06, myself and a few others have banded together to create a little project - a gratitude project for Lou Ferrigno Jr, for giving us Tommy and for the work he did for us.

What happened to Tommy and Lou in 8.06 isn’t fair.

But let’s channel that anger, that defeat, that despair, into something positive. God knows we need it right now.

If you’d like to leave a message for Lou, and for Tommy, the Google Form is below. We are accepting responses until Friday, 15th November.

Thank you for reading, and if you submit a response, thank you for extending your gratitude! 💜

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Not every single theory being confirmed.

Tommy is abby's ex. Confirmed

Buck is in love with Tommy. Confirmed.

Tommy is in love with Buck and will have is heart broken if Buck leaves. Confirmed.

Eddie is straight. Confirmed.

Madney child. Confirmed.

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So just to summarise, we got

Tommy is Abby's ex (fiance?!?) theory confirmed

Bucktommy Buck is in love with Tommy confirmed

Bucktommy Tommy is in love with Buck confirmed

Madney are having another child confirmed.

Bucktommy breakup

Eddie shaving off his mustache

And ending B*ddie scene.

All in the same episode..

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One that I want before seeing the episode,

Is that the tune during their first kiss becomes like y'know their tune.

The bucktommy tune.

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Honestly this is one of the best video essays in the whole 911 fandom and I will stand by that

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new game plan called shield yourself at all times and never let anyone in . this will have no repercussions