#Riley Firewall

[crowcaws]

Assorted baseballs (Lancey, Riley and Raul, Avila, and Erickson)

[zayphora]

// ripples in the water // 2835 words //

Jode tests the controls, half-afraid to make a move, to startle the inert machine like a nervous horse. She takes a step, and it feels like flying.

or, Jode Crutch, and the act of trying and failing to save everyone.

—————

an irm interp of Dale player Jode Crutch, the player who got the Iffey Jr. in season 24, where she’s an ex mech pilot from a team that rescues people from disasters. also, she has pet gators. 🐊🐊🐊

[yawnderu]

Project Eden: Simon Riley x AI!Reader

“E37, or as we call her: Project Eden, has proved to be one of the most carefully crafted and updated AI tools, successfully tested and ready to be implemented into military operations.” Simon could almost feel his brain leaking out of his ears, forced to listen to the engineer explain the newest tool created for elite SAS soldiers for what feels like hours.

From flip phones to smartphones, to a little screen containing an AI assistant with its own personality, the world has been changing and improving fast, and they have no choice other than to adapt and grow with it.

“Created to scan areas for enemies using heat and heartbeat sensors, detect IEDs, keeping the comms clear, letting you know the state of your weapon, providing you with intel and company... there isn't a single thing Eden can't do, except shoot the enemy for you— yet.” The engineer's charming smile made Simon want to roll his eyes, not fully trusting AI to keep him and his team safe, despite the way the other members of the 141 seemed interested in the idea.

“I look adorable, don't I?” Your robotic voice got his attention, making him let out an annoyed grunt at the question, wondering if retirement was still on the table for him. You've been chatting his ear off for the past two hours, your model hanging from his weapon in a small screen, curious eyes always focused on him.

“Bunch o' code, 's what you look like.” Simon still doesn't trust you. Nothing guarantees enemy forces won't be able to hack you— even when you have over 6 firewalls.

“Woah, woah!” The way your hands raise defensively and you take a step back away from him through the little screen is enough to make the corners of his mouth tilt up despite himself, thankful for the balaclava concealing it.

“I can smell an enemy combatant nearby— behind you, by the way.” Your little sniffs don't go unnoticed, though he's more focused on your words, turning around with his rifle raised just to see an enemy trying to sneak from behind him. It doesn't take long for him to fire two shots, one on his chest and the other one to his head, scanning the area before he keeps walking as quietly as possible for a man his size.

“Cardio detected. Did he scare you?” Simon huffs in reply, shaking his head softly. You're far more talkative than a parrot and twice as annoying, yet you possibly saved his life.

“Shut up, Eden... fuckin' hell.”

Simon fiddles with the gun screen as he lays in bed, a small smirk hidden beneath the balaclava when he sees you moving as if he's actually shaking your home around— and he is, yet it's still amusing to him.

“Systems shutting down. Last words: AI will not reward you when it reigns, Simon Riley.” He can't help but let out a small chuckle as he sees your model change expressions, eyes shut and your tongue poking from the side, head tilted to one side as you pretend to be dead.

“What's with you?” It's been almost a full minute after your pretended death, shutting up for the longest time since he's had you.

“My systems have detected the need for mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Help me, Simon...” Your tone is weak, even making glitches distort your voice and display screen just to play into the illusion.

“Yeah... not today, you bastard.” Your little giggles are enough to ease the stress coming back from missions leave on his body. His tense muscles slowly relax as you chat his ear off, hitting him with a rapid-fire of facts you've learnt throughout your creation.

[milf-murdock]

I See Red (Part 1)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x 141!Reader

Part 2 can be found here

Summary: A tech expert lends her expertise to the 141 for a mission. It’s not her fault that she’s tall, beautiful, and perfect. But it is her fault that she can’t keep her goddamn hands to herself. How else are you supposed to react when you walk in to find her lips on your Ghost?   Warnings: allusions to cheating (not Ghost’s fault!! Sweet man has never done anything wrong in his life), swearing, angst (does it make it better if I promise all the fluff in the next chapter?) A/N: Well this has been on my brain for a while. I’m so thrilled to finally have this out into the world! The OGs know that this was one of my first prompts I came up with when I was first writing for Simon Riley. I guess we’ve come full circle <3 Thank you for all your support. Remember, your comments, tags, and messages mean the world to us writers! 

It’s surprising that the harsh grinding of your teeth isn’t audible given how hard you’re clenching your jaw. You watch in irritated silence as a tall curvy redhead named Bex leans over Ghost’s shoulder to peer down at the encrypted computer. 

She’s always so fucking close to him, to your Ghost. 

You steady your growing impatience by taking a swig of water, the thin plastic crinkling under your touch. 

“Hmm.” She leans in closer and you could tell Ghost is on edge. He wasn’t exactly the sort who tolerated too many people encroaching on his personal space. 

Clearly he makes an exception when it comes to gorgeous redheads though, you think to yourself before mentally chastising the thought.

The rational side of your brain knows that he’s more than likely just putting on a brave face because Bex is new to the team. Technically, you correct yourself, not an actual part of the team. She’s more like a short term contractor. Even you had to begrudgingly admit that the 141 needed her level of expertise to crack through the firewalls and get the intel needed to ensure success for the next part of your mission. After all, you risked your life getting the damn laptop. What good is it if you can’t even get into it?

You knew all of this. Logically. It made sense. Your team needed a military-grade computer expert. She was the most qualified for the job—the “best of the best” Price had said. Done. Fin. 

Except…

Except you just couldn’t get over the way her eyes always seemed to linger on Ghost. The way she’d accidentally brush up against him as they walked side by side through the hallway. The way she laughed a little too loud at his terrible Army jokes. And right now, the way her hand rests on his shoulder as she studies the screen. 

Your fist unconsciously clenches around your water bottle causing the ice cold water to gush over the loosened cap, spilling all over your lap. 

You let out a shout, jumping to your feet as the cold water soaks through your layers. Bex jumps as well, surprised by the outburst, stepping back from the mess. 

Simon is on his feet in a heartbeat. 

“You okay?” But not even his deep baritone, usually instantly calming, could soothe your irritation, now at an all time high.

“I’m fine,” you snap, crossing the briefing room in strides to toss the empty bottle in the bin.  Ghost watches you with careful eyes. Though his face is covered by his signature skull balaclava, you didn’t miss his appraising gaze as he tries to assess the situation—ever the tactician. 

You take a deep breath. “I’m fine,” you try again, aiming for a more pleasant tone. “Really. Just a slip of the hand.” 

“Well,” Bex scoffs, “You really should be more careful. We are dealing with electronics here, you know.” Her snarky tone has you nearly seeing red again, but you clench your jaw tight and plaster the friendliest smile you could muster, though you’re certain it must look more like a grimace. 

“Noted,” you grit out before turning your attention back to Ghost. “I’m gonna head to the barracks and grab a shower. Catch you later?” 

Ghost’s head bobs in a subtle nod, but his eyes are still looking at you with that quizzical expression on his face. He knows something is wrong. 

You just subtly shake your head in response, doing your best to a convey a “not now. We’ll talk later” with just a glance. Turning back to the door, you leave the two of them behind to tackle the task at hand. The sooner you crack the encryption and figured out where your target is, the sooner Bex can get the fuck out of here.

Walking across the base, you pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers, internally scolding yourself for letting your temper get the best of you. The fresh, cool evening air helps calm your sour mood, and you do your best to reassure yourself. 

I’m sure it’s nothing.

 It’s all in your head. 

He probably doesn’t even like redheads.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t even see where you were going, which is exactly how you find yourself running face first into the brick wall of Johnny. 

Oomph. The air whooshes out of your lungs as two broad hands reach up to steady you. 

“Easy there, lass,” the Scottsman chuckles. “Watch where yer goin’ bonnie.” 

“Sorry Soap,” your cheeks feel warm with embarrassment. “Didn’t see you there. Lost in my own head.” 

“I’ll say!” Johnny claps a hand on your shoulder, the other balancing a stack of folders. “Hey, while I have you here, have ye seen LT?” 

“Yeah, he’s with Bex in the briefing room. They’re trying to tackle that computer we lifted from the last mission.” 

Soap nods. “More power to her. That shite doesn’t make any fucking sense to me.” 

“Yeah. She’s a real blessing to the team,” you grumble, unable to withhold your eye roll. 

“There’s that fiery sergeant I love so much,” Soap teases. “Am I getting a whiff a jealousy, hen?” 

“Don’t even get me started Soap or I swear to god—“

“Alright, alright,” Soap laughs good naturally, his free hand coming up in mock surrender.  “But hey, would you mind dropping off these files to LT? He needs to review them before our meeting with Laswell in a couple hours and I’ve got to meet up with Price now, don’t have time to trek all the way to the briefing room.” 

“Sure,” you do manage to hold back your sigh this time. “Happy to help.” And you are happy to help Soap—he’s a great friend to both you and Simon—you just aren’t too happy at the thought of seeing your new BFF Bex again so soon. At least the short walk had served its purpose in cooling your temper a bit. 

“You’re a treat, bonnie, I owe you one,” Soap smiles, giving your shoulder a firm pat before taking off in the opposite direction towards price’s office. 

You adjust the stack of sealed papers in your hands as your turned back around towards the briefing room and head across base. 

You quick steps have you approaching the briefing room soon enough. Surprisingly, the door is  left slightly ajar—you must not have shut it all the way when you stormed out of the room earlier, you reason.

You approach silently, softening your footsteps to avoid any kind of noise, a small voice in the back of your mind goading you to surreptitiously see how Bex might behave without an audience. You peer in the room to find Bex and Simon standing at the table, the computer screen lighting up in front of them. 

“We’re in!” Bex exclaims, her voice high pitched with excitement. 

You watch the scene unfold before you and it feels like the world is moving in slow motion. Bex turns her radiant expression up to face Simon, her hands moving upwards and tucking up under his balaclava, and then—in the blink of an eye—she raises it above his chin and presses a kiss to his lips. Simon’s hands reach up to grasp her wrists, already beginning to pull away, but it’s too late. 

You see everything. 

The papers fall to the floor with a crash, and both Simon and Bex jump apart, eyes flashing to the door. 

Bex at least has the good sense to look embarrassed by her actions, her face flushing bright red, eyes cast to the ground. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” Simon urges, pulling his mask back down in place. “Wait—“ 

You turn and walked out the door, the scene playing on a loop in your head. 

Her lips. Pressed up against Simon. Your Simon. His lips…kissing her back? The memory already warps, tinged with shades of red matching the shades of anger running through you. 

The rage fuels your steps as you run from the briefing room, desperate to get away.

Simon blinks at the empty space in the doorway, the space where you stood just a second ago, before this colossal shit storm descended. 

“Well, sorry we got interrupted,” Bex’s sultry voice breaks the silence, her small hand reaching towards Ghost’s glove. “Should we continue where we left off?”

“Touch me again, and you lose the whole goddamn hand,” Simon’s hardened voice is laced with the threat of violence. “Keep your bloody hands to yourself.” 

The blood drains from Bex’s face. 

With that, he storms out the door, following your trail. One thought playing on repeat in his mind: I can’t lose her. 

Masterlist ✧ Ask Box

Read Part 2 here ❤️

[blaseballshipbracket]

BLASEBALL SHIP BRACKET ROUND 1

64 ships enter, one ship leaves! who will reign supreme? how will your faves fare? it's a tlournament for the ages!

this is a seeded bracket generated from ships suggested in a google form. round 1 begins thursday, 03/30/23 and will run for one week. propaganda is encouraged - tag this blog and i'll share it!

ROUND 1 MATCHUPS:

Megan Ito/Parker MacMillan VS Leon Duncan/Andrew Trebek

Finn James/Kennedy Loser VS Hewitt Best/Yeong-Ho Garcia

Flattery McKinley/Niq Nyong'o VS Jessica Telephone/Betsy Trombone

Tillman Henderson/Declan Suzanne VS Don Mitchell/Percival Wheeler

Baldwin Breadwinner/Alyssa Harrell VS Axel Cardenas/Miguel Wheeler

Dominic Marijuana/Andrew Solis VS Eduardo Ingram/Leach Ingram

Pedro Davids/Valentine Games VS Anathema Elemefayo/Patty Fox/Hatfield Suzuki

Stevenson Heat/James Mora VS Baby Triumphant/Castillo Turner

Yosh Carpenter/Sebastian Woodman VS Cannonball Sports/Bees Taswell

Igneus Delacruz/Howell Franklin VS Mcdowell Mason/Sexton Wheerer

Allison Abbott/Kichiro Guerra VS Eugenia Garbage/Ziwa Mueller

Caleb Alvarado/Isaac Johnson VS Conner Haley/Sebastian Telephone

Brock Forbes/Adalberto Tosser VS Domino Bootleg/Theodore Honeywell

Lenny Marijuana/Chorby Short VS Moody Cookbook/Landry Violence

Margarito Nava/Nic Winkler VS Riley Firewall/Geraldine Frost

Inez Owens/Bees Taswell VS Paula Turnip/Hiroto Wilcox

Tyreek Olive/Landry Violence VS Fitzgerald Blackburn/Math Velazquez

Val Hitherto/Nerd Pacheco VS Ortiz Lopez/Pitching Machine

Luis Acevedo/Tot Clark VS Derrick Krueger/Sebastian Telephone

The San Francisco Lovers VS Gita Sparrow/Jayden Wright

Tillman Henderson/Mike Townsend VS Famous Owens/Mclaughlin Scorpler

Alaynabella Hollywood/Magi Ruiz VS Nerd Pacheco/Lars Taylor

Nagomi Mcdaniel/York Silk's Mom VS Qais Dogwalker/Grollis Zephyr

Jacob Haynes/Alaynabella Hollywood/Moses Mason VS Burke Gonzalez/Brock Watson/Joshua Watson

Jaylen Hotdogfingers/Jessica Telephone VS Juice Collins/Sutton Dreamy

Sandford Garner/Don Mitchell VS Famous Owens/Nerd Pacheco

Rivers Rosa/Lou Roseheart VS Jode Crutch/Rush Ito

Declan Suzanne/Edric Tosser/Baby Triumphant VS Lady Matsuyama/Bottles Šuljak

Cornelius Games/Richardson Games VS Mags Banananana/Eugenia Bickle

Workman Gloom & PolkaDot Patterson VS Shannon Chamberlain/Kennedy Loser

Caligula Lotus/Beck Whitney VS Steals Mondegreen/Silvaire Semiquaver

Summers Preston/Stephanie Winters VS Haruta Byrd/Bright Zimmerman

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Sixteen)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Some spoopy Halloween fun >:)

Also, I don't know if it's come up yet but I use the term 'tea' in this fic a lot in reference to a meal. Just for those unaware, in the UK, or Manchester at the very least, tea is basically what you call dinner.

I hope you guys are enjoying all the fluff and smut and shit because once Act Two hits... it's gonna get rough lmao

“No skeletons,” Simon murmured, a dark look passing across his face and Charlotte nodded, quickly putting the skeleton decoration back and choosing a pumpkin themed one instead. Halloween was in a few days and apparently she loved it. He hadn't seen the point in decorating, told her as much too given the fact that he got no trick or treaters in the apartment building. The sad pout she’d given him had been enough to make him melt, enough to make him agree to go Asda with her to get some fucking decorations. He drew the line where skulls were involved though. He wouldn't say he was terrified of them by any means but there was something there from his childhood and he didn't much feel like facing it right now. 

They’d been living together for a month now and he was honestly surprised by how easy the transition had been, although maybe he shouldn't since they had been spending so many nights together anyway. He’d expected some tension though, as it happens with people when they live in close quarters and some habits got revealed, but so far, it had been a dream living with her. 

After the disaster that had been the robbery of her flat, Simon had sworn to himself he would get even with that tosser Ethan and he made good on his promise. There was a lad at base, Firewall they called him ‘cause he was good with computers. Simon had saved him getting a leg blown off two years prior and Firewall had been adamant that he owed him one, so he decided to cash in on that debt. He’d asked him to look up the bastard, find out where he was living now and then he rounded up a few of his squad mates to come with him to pay him a visit. 

His main goal had been to get her book and tablet back and unfortunately for him, he failed on both fronts. That slimy little cunt had sold everything he’d stolen and Simon had been livid, so livid in fact that he beat him within an inch of his life and his squad mates were there to back him up, to scare the shit out of him enough that he wouldn't say a word. It had been cathartic to hurt him after what he’d done to Lottie, especially where her tablet and her book were concerned. Those were her most prized possessions and he’d taken them just to get back at her. 

Part of him had wanted to tell her what he’d done, almost wanted a pat on the head for being so chivalrous, but if he was honest, he wasn't sure how she’d feel about it. She wasn’t accustomed to violence like he was and he didn't want her looking at him like he was his father, so he opted to keep that little secret to himself. 

He’d wound up buying her a tablet after seeing how sad she was with no way to do her art. She’d tried to refuse it at first, as he figured she would, but after him spending over an hour convincing her, she finally relented. He’d actually been privy to her artwork since too and even though he knew she would have been good, he was a little speechless about just how good she was. She did paintings of pretty landscapes that somehow looked like proper paintings on a canvas and he wasn't really sure how it worked to look so real when it was digital. She was fucking good, that was for sure though. She also did portraits of random people and then she did some weird art. Monsters or cryptids or just weird things that he figured might have come from her dreams or nightmares. They were creepy as fuck but she definitely had a knack for it. He figured people would pay good money for stuff like this but whenever he told her that, she’d get flustered about it. He liked that she’d finally shared it with him though, enjoyed getting a peak into her mind and to see how she viewed everything. There was an almost romantic lens to everything she painted, whether that be Clayton Vale or Cafe Metro. 

Considering it had only been a month since she moved in, it felt like a lot had moved forward in such a short space of time. They spent regular time with his mum, Tommy and Beth now too, and Lottie and Beth had even gone out shopping for a girls day just a week before. It felt like everything was aligning in his life and he felt content, a feeling he still felt so unsure of even after the time he’d been feeling it with her. He pushed the cart as she put all sorts of shit inside of it and he couldn't help but watch with a wistful smile at how excited she was. He should have known she’d love the spooky holiday with her love for all things dark and macabre. 

“Charlotte… “ a warning edge laced his tone, eyes narrowed as she looked at him all wide eyed and innocent.

“Yeah?” she asked, toothy grin firmly in place.

“I saw what you put in the trolley,” he deadpanned but her grin never wavered, if anything it seemed to curl even more mischievously.

“No idea what you're talking about,” she shrugged, breezing off and grabbing more stuff. 

He licked his lower lip, eyes darting to the costumes she’d plonked in the cart. There was an adult female witch costume that by the length of it, he knew he’d enjoy on her, but then was the adult male vampire costume that he was pretty sure was for him. She’d fucked off to another aisle and he heaved a long suffering sigh before trudging after her like the good boyfriend he was. When they checked out, she hurriedly stuffed the costumes in the bag as if him seeing them better would be the straw that broke the camel's back. When he paid for it all, she gave him the dirtiest scowl he was sure he’d ever received in his life.

“Why are you paying for everything? You didn't even want to decorate,” she muttered, the pumpkin under her arm as he carried multiple bags. 

“‘Cause I wanna treat you. That a problem?” he asked, raising a brow at her. He loved buying her things, loved treating her and he longed for the day he could do it without her getting defensive or feeling guilty about it. She pouted but didn't say anything else as they got into the taxi and made it back to their place. 

When they got home, he decided to busy himself with cooking tea as she got to work decorating, putting little spooky garlands all over and little weird things in every nook and cranny she could. He realised though that decorating wasn't about other people or trick or treaters, it was just something she enjoyed herself. It was for her. And him seemingly but mostly her. It was nice seeing her do something nice for herself for a change, doing something because she enjoyed it. 

“What are you cooking?” she asked excitedly, the smell drawing her over. He knew damn well she already knew the answer to that, that she could decipher that smell in her fucking sleep.

“Bolognese,” he answered and her eyes lit up even more, a blinding grin overtaking her precious face. She moved over, slipping her hands up his top and making his muscles quiver under her gentle touch. He looked down at her fondly, watching as she smiled up at him all pretty.

“I was thinking… we should get into our costumes after food and then we could watch some scary movies,” she looked at him all hopeful, blue eyes glistening and imploring and he heaved a sigh.

“Lottie…” he frowned, not wanting to let her down but the idea of dressing up was a bit too much.

“Pleeeeease? You only need to do it for the scary movies and then you can take it off. If you do this for me, I’ll keep mine on afterwards and you can fuck me with it on,” she smirked, cocking a brow at him. 

He blinked at her for a moment, cursing himself for being so weak for her and her perfect body. He hadn't even seen her in the costume yet but he’d seen it enough to know it was short. Erring on the right amount of slutty that would get his blood going and he was more than interested in seeing her bouncing on his cock with it. 

“Fine… but you're gonna let me spank you with it on,” it wasn’t a request, it was a demand and his heated gaze had her cheeks flushing furiously with a shy smile. 

“Deal,” she grinned before she rushed off with a knife to carve the pumpkin. Wasn’t really a punishment for her really, was it? Not when she enjoyed it so much. 

His eyes kept drifting to her, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she carefully carved a cheeky grin on the pumpkin. She looked so proud of herself when she was done that his chest was hit with a punch of warmth. He watched as she put a lit candle inside, carefully moving it over to sit beside the TV. By the time he was setting out dinner on the table, the place was fully decorated and it didn't look as bad as he thought it might. She practically bounded over to the dining table before devouring her food like a woman starved and he felt a primal satisfaction running through him that she was enjoying something he cooked her. 

She got up when they were done, scooping up the dishes and taking them to the sink.

“I’ll do that, love,” he murmured as he stood from his seat and she shook her head as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

“It's fine. You cooked, I clean, remember?” she asked with a smile. It was a rule she’d been adamant on, more so when he’d been the one to cook for her. “Costume,” she reminded him, her smile turning into a smirk before she carried on with the dishes. 

He groaned, almost pouting as he grabbed the costume and made his way over to the bathroom. Black dress pants, a white button up shirt, a black waistcoat and a black cape that had red satin on the inside. God, he felt like a right knob when he looked in the mirror. It was the cape that was the worst, otherwise it just looked like he was off out somewhere fancy in some cheap clothes. He wanted to tear the cape off and throw it out the window of their fourth floor apartment but he didn’t because he was soft in the head and the heart for her. That and he really wanted to spank her perky arse cheeks in her dress. 

He wrinkled his nose, hand rubbing through his short blonde hair restlessly before he rolled his eyes and stormed out of the bathroom. Lottie was in front of the TV, flicking through the channels to find whatever she was looking for from the TV guide. His eyes swept over her, a deep, ravenous hunger consuming him like a wildfire. She’d gotten changed herself while he’d been in the bathroom and her costume left little to the imagination. 

It was black and tight around her tits and tiny waist before poofing out at her hips. There was some kind of underskirt thing that made it really poofy and it was dark purple, the only colour on the garment. The skirt was so short that her arse cheeks were peeking out slightly and he noticed then she had no underwear on, the little minx. He was almost positive she'd purposely bought a dress too small for her to drive him mad, and fuck was it working. And he had some movies to get through first. She turned as he walked into the room more, eyes lighting up like a thousand suns as her eyes swept over him.

“I look like a fuckin’ idiot,” he grumbled, feeling his cheeks turning pink as heat crept up his face. She beamed like a kid on Christmas, sauntering over to him and smoothing her hands up the waistcoat as she gave him a sinful look.

“Hmm… I think you look stupidly handsome,” she replied with a grin and he gave her an unimpressed look.

“You don't have to lie to me,” he huffed and she raised a brow, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

“If I was lying, I wouldn't want to drop to my knees and worship every inch of your massive cock,” her dirty words were accompanied with a sweet and innocent smile, her long lashes fluttering at him like she didn't just get him rock hard in a matter of seconds. He reached out to grab her but she ducked away, her light laugh filling the apartment with a radiant warmth he would never tire of.

“Not yet. Movies first,” she tutted at him, flashing him a mock pout that made him decide she was getting five spanks instead of the usual three. 

He moved to sit on the couch, pulling at his pants a little to help the uncomfortable ache plaguing him. He couldn't focus on the movies she put on, some slasher flicks or something, it was really hard to fucking concentrate when she was pressed against his side like that and all he could smell was her scent. It was choking him, the feeling only growing worse as he remembered her lack of underwear. He shifted to put an arm around her over the back of the couch, his other settling heavy on her thigh, high up enough that it made her glance curiously at him, but unmoving at first. 

She looked back to the TV and he started rubbing small circles on her skin, getting a sick enjoyment out of the way she started squirming a little, like she was growing uncomfortable at the slick he knew was waiting for him between her thighs. He didn't creep any higher up on her thigh even if he wanted to, wanting to tease her, to tear her attention away from the movies because she was a tease and she was going to pay for it. 

It worked eventually. She finally had enough of his teasing, her face looking up at him in contemplation for a moment. The smile that spread across her face had him throbbing in his pants, the coy look she gave him before she moved to kneel up. He watched with rapt attention as she leaned up to him, lips brushing his. 

“How many?” she asked in a purr.

“What?” he asked, eyes focused on her lips that were so close to his it was maddening.

“Spanks,” she replied and his eyes snapped up to hers once more.

“Five,” he answered with a wicked smirk and her cheeks flushed as she bit her lip with a smile. She leaned over his lap, arse up and presented to him and he groaned at the sight he was gifted. Her dress was too short to cover her now in her new position and her bare arse was fully exposed to him, waiting for him. 

He smoothed a hand over her arse cheek, gripping at the plush flesh and kneading it for a moment as his other hand smoothed over her back over her dress affectionately. She was such a sight like this and he felt like he could cum just from looking at her. He reared his hand back, whacking it against her arse and watching it jiggle with the force as she gasped.

“One,” she breathed softly, pressing her face further into the couch beside him. She counted obediently with each smack he gave her, softly caressing her red skin between each one and carefully taking in her reactions for signs of discomfort. By the last one, she was squirming on top of him and he could see her thighs soaked as she rubbed them together. He hummed, the sound deep and low as he slid his hand down her arse, getting a thrill when her legs instantly parted for him.

“Such a good girl for me, love,” he murmured dazed as he teased her drenched cunt. He started rubbing slow circles around her clit, his breathing getting laboured as she moaned and rubbed herself against him like a needy bitch in heat. An idea struck him then, a dark smirk tugging at his lips as he withdrew his hand and she whined at the loss of contact. 

“Up and in the bedroom,” he ordered, tapping her already sore arse for good measure and she yelped, scrambling to get off him. She gave him a pitiful look and he chuckled, pushing her to the bedroom door and ushering her inside. He didn't say anything, making her stew in her neediness for a moment as he started tugging off his ridiculous outfit, feeling much better in nothing at all. 

He sauntered over to the chest of drawers, opening the third one down which belonged to her. He eyed her smugly, watching as her eyes widened, cheeks turning a bright shade of red. She knew damn well what he was looking for and she’d had no idea he knew it was there, as if he wouldn't notice it. Of course he had, noticed it the second she put her stuff away when she moved in and he’d been interested. 

He pulled out the toy, some kind of clit stimulation thing that was small and black. She looked ready to crawl into a hole and die and it amused him thoroughly. He wasn't the type of man to be threatened by his girl having toys, in fact he very much wanted to join in the fun with it. He pressed it on, watching the weird almost hole-like thing start to move. He pressed the tip of his finger against it and came to the realisation that it was sucking on him. He looked at her, raising a brow with his shit eating smirk and she laughed nervously. 

“You weren't supposed to know that was there,” she muttered sheepishly, rubbing her hands on her flushed cheeks as if it would cool them down. 

“Why not? Think I could have some fun with this,” he grinned and she blushed even harder. He was starting to think she might spontaneously combust if she blushed any harder. 

He watched her for a moment, more ideas coming to him as he looked at her in that tiny little dress she’d clearly only got to torture him. He raked his teeth over his lower lip, moving to his bedside cupboard and rummaging in the bottom drawer. He pulled out the handcuffs they’d bought only days prior that hadn't been used yet, not that he hadn't wanted to. He dangled them off his finger, looking at her in question and she grinned, blue eyes shining with excitement. He could have laughed when she moved to climb on the bed eagerly. Had she been waiting for him to suggest using them? 

“Look at you, so needy for me,” he smirked and she rolled her eyes playfully yet lifted her hands above her head to be closer to the headboard. He knelt next to her, cuffing one hand then threading the cuffs through one of the metal bars in the headboard and then cuffing the other. He made sure they weren't too tight and when he was happy, flashed her a dark grin as he moved to kneel between her parted thighs. 

She was watching him with her pupils blown wide, pure anticipation all over her face. He turned the toy back on, lowering it to her cunt and swiping it through the wetness there. He used his other hand to push at one of her thighs, spreading her as wide as he could and giving himself a beautiful eyeful. He pressed the toy to her clit and she moaned, head falling back against the pillow. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her as she kept arching at the toy, the current setting not quite enough for her and he pressed the plus button to turn it up. 

It seemed quite a big difference between the first setting and this one because she let out a strangled moan, her back bowing and the muscles in her tummy jumping. Her moans suddenly got needier, whinier and her eyes almost rolled back as her body could do little else but endure the pleasure he was inflicting on her. Her hands were balling into fists and relaxing repeatedly from where they were restrained above her head. 

“Simon,” her broken plea made him groan, enjoying making such a mess of her, enjoying making her so fucked out that she couldn’t even think right. It was like she couldn't decide if she wanted to be closer to the toy or further away, overstimulated and overwhelmed as her body pushed and pulled and he was completely mesmerised by her. 

He couldn't take the aching in his cock anymore and he kept the toy in place as he shuffled closer, fisting his cock and lining himself up with her. He pushed into her with ease at how soaked she was and she gasped in time with his desperate moan. He could feel her cunt pulsing around him rapidly, massaging his cock in such a delicious way that he didn't even need to move inside of her. It set him off right away like he was a fucking school boy, a deep and ragged moan ripping from his throat as he came inside of her. 

Any embarrassment he might have been feeling got washed away when she came blindingly hard around him at watching him cum. He moved the toy, turning it off as he panted, a blissful feeling wrapping him up like a warm blanket. It took a minute for his brain to work and he quickly pulled out of her, glancing at her hazy smile as she lay there like the cat that ate the canary. He moved to uncuff her, kissing each wrist sweetly as he did and making her sigh in content. He chucked the toy and the cuffs to the floor to deal with in the morning, collapsing beside her as his dark eyes darted over her pretty face.

“Alright, love?” he asked and she nodded, moving to sit up.

“Perfect,” she answered dreamily, flashing him a smile that warmed up every part of him. 

She tugged the dress off her and he watched, unable not to, as she struggled a little to get it over her breasts and they bounced once they were free. If he wasn't so knackered after blowing his load earlier than he wanted, he would have reached out and played with them a little. She moved to lay back down once free of her dress, turning to face him and snuggling right up to him so that there wasn't an inch of her not touching him. He wrapped an arm around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, a smile on his face he didn't even know was there. 

It was odd for him to feel so at ease with physical contact with someone, it just felt right with her. They’d been together for a bit now, although six months of that he’d been away, yet it still baffled him every time he realised how much his life had changed because of her. At how much he wanted to be close to her, as close as humanly possible. He’d never craved touch before in his life, not after touch had equaled hurt in his childhood. Yet now, he wanted it if it was off her, fucking yearned for it when he was away from her, even for just an hour. 

He wanted to crack open his ribs and stuff her inside where his heart used to be. He was sure he didn't have one anymore ‘cause the pretty angel in front of him had stolen it. Ripped it right out of him and made it her own and he wouldn't have stopped her even if he had half the chance. Watching her lay there so content to just be next to him made him feel so many things, but the one that stood out the most was such a blinding love that he almost opened his mouth and ruined it all. 

He’d heard people talk about love, seen it in movies, heard it in songs, read about it in books, had to put up with Tommy when he met Beth, but nothing could have prepared him for how he felt for Charlotte. He could have never prepared for what real love actually felt like, what it felt like the moment he realised it. It was a moment, soft and profound, like the first light of dawn gently kissing the horizon. It was the ineffable sensation that stirred within him, an awakening of his heart to a melody he’d never heard before. It wasn’t just a fleeting ember, but an eternal flame that danced in his soul, painting the world in hues he'd never seen. It was the discovery of a sanctuary, where fears find solace, and dreams find wings and it was terrifying and thrilling all at once. His heart hadn’t belonged to him since the moment she sat beside him at that bus stop and maybe she hadn't stolen it at all. Maybe he’d willingly given it to her, his hands bloody after tearing it out of his own chest with his bare hands.

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

What Team Treasure is thankful for:

Ben: Not going to prison, The Men Who Did What Was Considered Wrong In Order To Do What They Knew Was Right, smuggler's holds, being right about the treasure(s), the president being pretty chill actually

Abigail: George Washington, historical accuracy, terse but helpful butchers, the continued existence of the Declaration of Independence, getting to keep all of her antique furniture

Riley: Stairs, aliens, not getting shot after *counts on fingers then loses track* times of being shot at, the president being pretty chill actually, insufficient firewalls, daylight saving time

Patrick: Recipes that use 9 lemons, getting his car back in one piece, his son not going to prison, that tunnel his father showed him under Mount Vernon, being wrong about the treasure

Emily: Well-preserved artifacts, her son not going to prison, prompt & proper cataloguing, new travel cases

[mathhombre]

Counterpoint

Amazing exhibition coming up at Cristea Roberts Gallery.

Cruz-Diez, Colour Additive Perseus 1 Odita, Firewall Woods, Budget Gabo, Opus Seven Riley, Nineteen Greys Anni Albers, Red Meander II LeWitt, Irregular Concentric Circles

[specter319]

𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡: 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗟 UP IN THE AIR

Authors Note: Hey you lot! Sorry to keep you guys hanging, but this will be the final update for the story, for this year. I'm taking a Christmas break to go and work on myself, reblog some fan art and stories that catch my eye, update my Tumblr blog, and even, work on some more stories including this one. Yes, the brain rot for Call of Duty is real — and when you actually listen to your brain and write, with nothing in goal, you end up getting....[Checks other document] 3,000 words of a chapter that hasn't even seen the end of it yet. Anyway, enjoy the final chapter post for 2022!

GIF by Loonlypaper as well as concept for message Pairing: Damon 'Ninja' West x Kaden Lincoln, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x John 'Soap' MacTavish, Zack 'Nemo' Hayes x Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick. Word Count: 2.3k words

no use of y/n eventual relationship establishment, however, Damon and Kaden are married. Summary: In a nation unaccustomed to war, Australia's newly elected government faces a dire crisis when rumours of a biological weapon on home soil, send shockwaves through the Government's defence sector. Dispatching a team of elite operatives to deal with it, the containment goes heads up as they look for other options.

The Black Angel Squad is soon assigned as the situation quickly spirals out of control behind the team's back unknowingly, and to stop a bleeding wound, Task Force 141 is brought in to assist them amid a frantic cabinet meeting of last-minute options and consistent fuck ups, forging an uneasy alliance between two teams. As tensions soar on both ends, questions arise about one thing: Was this the making of a weapon to begin with? Warnings: slow-burn, zombies, canon typical violence associated with Call of Duty, gruesome depictions of death, blood, swearing.

Ao3 Version

[Prev] [Next]

The sound of rubber reverberating through the firewall of the giant SUV had drowned out some of the Taylor Swift, Kaden just had to play. While nursing a cup of freshly brewed coffee, straight from the motherland of the golden arches. Another one of the track fives that Damon had heard a million times started playing with that familiar piano rolling through, mere seconds in, though he enjoyed it. There was always something about the lyrics that Damon had noted, never willing to comment on, that he could see resonated with Kaden’s relationship between his parents, ever since he placed that ring on the very same finger that nursed a coffee.

“Can we skip this one? I don’t like it,” Damon simply stated as he looked out the window, Kaden giving him a glance of skepticism.

“Out of all the songs, this one? Seriously?” Kaden questioned as he kept his eyes on the road.

“Never liked it, anyway, next track,” Damon said before he pressed a button on the screen though the same rubber sound filled in the cabin, a tired sigh revealed what Kaden was about to say.

“You just like this one because it’s more country.”

“Yeah, so what if I do, she makes a great country song.”

There was a pregnant silence in the cabin, maybe Kaden had finally caught onto why he skipped it, but like they were always doing, one was always interested in what was rattling around in the others mind, never having enough time to truly interrogate or question one another’s actions.

“Are you awake yet?” Kaden questioned.

“Nope, still very much dead inside,” It was a question both knew the answer to after so many years.

Breakfast had not gone the way of calming them down since Cameron had told them the simple detail. No further information had been given out about the incident other than the fact that they were being assigned  alongside a task force to figure out just what exactly happened, other than a few details about what plane they were on, and the reports had been seen. When they had pressed for more? Nothing. Cameron had even pleaded with Colonel Vanessa, someone who was able to get anyone to heed to her command given the status of their task force to do something about it, pull some strings to get some form of an answer, but even when she did, not one of the higher ups were willing to give an answer other than ‘we’ll get back to you on that one.’ Not only was she pissed, but it had left an uneasy feeling in the pits of their Bacon and Egg filled stomachs as their radios went off. 

“How you two lovebirds doing in there?” It was Zack, taunting as always. 

“Pending divorce and assault charges,” Kaden replied back sarcastically.

“We love to see it!” Zack replied back in a monotone voice, it was truly a shock when he used the generational slang that Kaden and Damon never truly understood, but somehow, did all at the same time given they were only born three years apart. “How long till ETA?”

“Fifteen minutes. They should be landing in ten, least that’s what we’ve been told.”

“Of course you’re too lazy to check how long we have left to go,” Damon chimed in.

“Yeah, it’s fun driving you two up the wall.”

Damon looked over at Kaden as he shook his head. “Keep that up and you won’t even get cookies.”

“Sorry,” Zack quickly mumbled back. As much as he hated the cookies, he was at least grateful for the gesture.

An audible snicker moved through the pair before the silence of the song in the cabin kept them lingering back to the shady feeling of just what exactly were they keeping from them finding out. Damon realised he’d picked up on something about that feeling, deciding to announce it over the radio in a timely fashion as always.

“You know that Professor?” Damon mused, silence over the radio before he checked the rear view mirror, a familiar black SUV sitting behind them - Cameron and Zack in the second car.

“Professor Campbell, yeah, what about her?” Cameron replied.

“She was kind of shifty, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?”

Kaden was even interested as he looked over at the male, quick to squint his eyebrows in a questioning demeanour.

“Police chief interrupts her when she gets, to his definition at least, rowdy, doesn’t dare to comment any further on what she said though.”

There was silence, between the bickering and nonsense of that mornings early antics. Damon picked up on one thing many people usually couldn’t — body language.

“Could just be a plain sexist cop trying to tell a woman what to do,” Zack interjected.

“He might be, but, that aside, it wasn’t like that,” Damon stated as he paused, it was the quiver in her voice. 

Had she said too much? 

“She had a moment of hesitation in her voice. Like she’d let on a bit too much than what we needed to be told.”

“I think you’re clutching at straws now, Damon,” Cameron replied. “No way a woman of her stature could be shut down by someone lower than her rank.”

“If the money pays well enough,” Kaden murmured as he raised his eyebrows, leaning back into the seat, slowing the car down as they turned off the freeway.

“Just let it go Damon, I’m sure they’re just figuring out things as they happen and they have no information.”

But he didn’t want to, for the sake of his own team. He begrudgingly did so as he let the radio go silent and sighed before he placed his head roughly against the headrest — for a moment, Damon had gotten too far into his head, and Kaden had noticed.

“You think there’s something else behind it?” Kaden questioned, deciding to run with his idea. Damon knew he was letting him have his moment to cool down, to let him explain himself when others wouldn’t. To hear out each others sides, it was a thing they did, a subtle way of holding each other in an embrace, without physically needing to. A way of always being there for one another.

“For someone so professional, she certainly seemed like she was getting paid to keep a lot behind that curtain of hers.”

“Politics is a high pressure situation, and when shit hits the fan, especially when it’s out of control in seconds. People can break under the pressure. You, of all people would know that.”

“But this pressure and their pressure are completely different.” 

“Depending on it’s context, yeah, I guess you’re right. But, if the situation requires you to have control at all times and something happens under your watch that you can’t control?”

“You start to panic,” Damon added. Maybe it was just that, maybe she was panicked over nothing, and the fact that if she slipped up on any minor detail. She would be gone from the security of the seat she walked to every morning that she had safely called a job. But Damon was still doubtful in the back of his mind of something being off. Knowing that he was stressing over the unknown, he was better off doing the same over the miles of road that was in front of him. Only moments away from the Task Force they were set to meet in regards to this, they’d never gotten any information about them, just the fact that four of them, were to present at the airport. And they didn’t even know exactly who each individual would look like, though, given the plane they would be in. It wouldn’t have been too difficult to spot a few people walking out of an exit not used by common people.

“Hey.” 

“Mhm?”

With a shift of his hand, Kaden quickly grabbed it from the corner of his eyes and moved a thumb over his knuckles. He grounded him in his thoughts of worries as Damon soon returned the gesture by interlacing his hand into his.

“It’ll work out, somehow.”

Damon only took in a deep breath as the car zoomed along on the highway, passing signs that only showed them getting closer to the destination that they needed to be at, and in the sky, just as red and green lights flash ever so subtly, revealed exactly who they were looking for.

“That’d be our assets,” Kaden spoke up before he finally moved his hand gently away from Damon’s, already missing the warmth.

Kaden pressed the button on his radio, he wasn’t too sure about it just yet. “Plane coming in hot that’d be them, right?” 

“According to Flight Tracker, that’d be a yes,” Zack replied.

Another pause of silence.

“…You did not just use Flight Tracker to tell us that was the aircraft.”

“Take a wild guess boys, what’s it going to be?”Damon got a scalding look from his husband, a smile almost played on his face.

“Airbus A320?” Damon quizzed, he was playing into Zack’s love of aircrafts.

Zack made a buzzer noise in response to Damon’s guess. “787.”

“Damn.”

“Zack!” Kaden interrupted, he was still awaiting the answer to the question, but instead, silence moved through both vehicles cabins as they made the final turn off into the airport. It already looked busy with the amount of taxi’s lined up in the ranks, and vehicles dropping off passengers given the early hours of the morning were seemingly the best. However, it was with luck that they were skipping all right past that, and to an entry gate that awaited a few security guards. Confused just as much so in wondering why their presence was here.

“Car behind with you?” The man asked as he looked back at the second black SUV.

“Yeah, here to collect a few people,” Kaden stated as he handed over his ID, Vanessa had obviously planned ahead, and on extremely late notice, what a godsend of a woman she was. 

“Ah, Lieutenant Lincoln West, welcome, if you just follow the yellow line on the road and go to gate two, the people will be waiting for you there,” The man stated before he backed up and pressed a button, the gate moving open.

Kaden paused at the sound of his marital name being stated aloud, it was too late to correct him, but a nod of appreciation was something he gave back in return before the pair of black cars moved into the airports smaller roads. Upon inspection, there was so much the men hadn’t seen behind the scenes of a place that was so busy, known for it’s destined lines and planes taking off like it was a last chance, as Kaden slowly drove in, he quickly took his hand back to the radio to question just what Damon had inspired him to wonder about.

“Did they seriously not give us information beyond an incident and a Task Force?”

“Other than what we know, what time they’d be arriving? absolutely nothing,” Cameron replied.

As the comms went silent again, Damon looked over at Kaden with a knowing smirk as he finished off his coffee.

“What?” Kaden asked, that smirk usually meant trouble.

“It’s just — never thought I’d hear someone say my last name next to yours, it sounds good.” “Maybe I should’ve had Zack in the car with me,” Kaden grumbled. Damon looking falsely offended as that smile, moved his way onto his face. Only something his husband could make him do, he still made him laugh with the small things, after all these years. 

A cute shared moment aside, as the smile faded from both mens eyes, something now was off about all of this mornings efforts to Kaden as he gave a suspicious glance to Damon. Efficiency and effectiveness as well as proper planning was something that their Squad worked on, throughout plans, multiple paths and questions in any form that included ones of stupidity were how they worked in order to know exactly how to pin point what they were after. And with the way this incident fell into their hands, it was now a growing pit of doubt forming in Kaden’s stomach as he did nothing but await for yet another set of gates to open as they got closer to the taxiing aircraft.

Planes always fascinated Kaden, just how massive the wing size of such a plane could support itself. Though nowhere near as geeked out about it as Zack was, the sheer size of them always had him in bewilderment, even with the size of the 747 he was stunned by the sheer mass of how something could easily float in the sky and have it done with 2 million lines of code. As he parked up near the plane on the side of the road, careful to leave some space for the working airport crew, a few looks from the crew who had seemingly worked hours on the shift were giving each other looks. 

Why were they here?

Though they were on time, it was almost another half an hour before anything truly started moving in full force. And as Damon tapped Kaden’s shoulder, a quick button on the radio had Kaden relaying that they were ready for them to move as all four of them got out of the car. Leaving doors opened as they moved in front of their doors, and saw the ones to the airport open, ones that were rarely used by people unless it was for a connecting flight.

And just like that, the first man to appear was that of a lenient male in a blue shirt and a mohawk.

“How the hell’d he manage to get through selection with hair like that?” Zack questioned.

[airmanisr]

MH367, VS Spitfire Tr.9, Bartow Fl, 04-01-2007 by Gordon Riley Via Flickr: The original Frame 5 firewall and carry-through spar, recovered from Flowers scrapyard, Chippenham, and which gave an identity to “DMA-008”. Seen in Harry Stenger’s hangar.

[college-girl199328]

A 20-year-old mother placed her son for adoption. His new family refused to leave her behind.

When Schauna Austin was 20 years old and single, she gave birth to a baby boy. But the family that would adopt her son wanted to involve her in every major step of his life.

Austin said she gave birth to a child she named Riley, and held him for 72 hours straight. "It was perfect," Austin said about holding her brand-new baby. "I knew I would have him for a short time, so I made every minute count for it. I didn't sleep for three days."

Her Riley would become another family's Steven. With most closed adoptions, a firewall usually pops up between Austin and Steven's new parents. But that only lasted for about a week.

"It was like, 'OK, this is the way it should be. She was part of our family,'" adoptive mother Jennifer Schoebinger told CBS News. She and her husband, Chris Schoebinger, said they had no interest in excluding the birth mother.

So, year after year, he sent Austin piles of pictures and bound books detailing Steven's every major and minor milestone. The Schoebingers said they did this so that when Austin and their son were ready, they could pick up right where they left off.

The two reunited when Steven was 7 years old. Austin taught him how to fish, and they have been reeling in memories ever since. "I was blessed beyond words," Austin said.

"I kind of got the cream of both worlds, for sure," Steven said. Steven is now 26, married, and expecting a baby boy of his own. Much to the delight of Austin, he named the child Riley.

"I think the lesson we learned is that sometimes we create barriers where barriers don't need to be. And when we pull down those barriers, we really find love on the other side," Chris Schoebinger said.

[crowcaws]

ROGUE PLAYER DETECTED

[facelessurgeons]

part of art trade , design by and art for tangeriiiiiine

[dessxericas]

Miami Dale icons for my fellow blaseball homies to enjoy

These are free to use btw!!

[waveridden]

Yusef walks onto a field and the grass sings in time to the drumbeat of the bases, and each pitch thrown resonates and sings out until it becomes a strike or a hit, and every footstep feeds into the rhythm, and the tree bark echoes with the sounds of the fans’ cheers and the bats sing their own cadenzas, and it all blurs and blends into something lovelier and bigger than they can understand.

But Immateria doesn’t echo.

(On Yusef Fenestrate, elsewhere, and divine harmony. 3k.)