#is he REALLY gonna be my next Guy Of The Week

[bluecollarmcandtf]

M O O N L I G H T ™

Chapter III

It's late, and the last thing I expect to find at my nightly workout is my little bro, dressed up like a personal trainer. He looks ridiculous in that cheesy uniform, not to mention the light pouring out of his skull and the smile stamped into his face! I guess the little idiot signed up for Moonlight™: that was one helluva mistake!

"Good evening, sir," my brother speaks as if we hadn't grown up together, "Is there any way I can aid your fitness journey tonight?"

Hearing Ryan call me 'sir' brings a devious grin to my own face. I've bullied this kid for years, and now he's kissing my ass like well-trained puppy. Thanks to Moonlight™, my annoying little bro is just a mind controlled employee who doesn't realize his brother's here, let alone embarrassing him! I wish I could get my entire family implanted with these little Moonlight™ things. Messing with them would be hilarious!

"Oh yeah," I sneer, "And what's string bean gonna do for a guy like me?"

"Well, sir, as a personal trainer here at Planet Fitness, I'll gladly demonstrate how to use the machines, spot patrons with heavy-lifting, and return equipment when finished."

God, he sounds even more annoying than usual! "You really think a someone like you could spot me?" I scoff and bring my bicep to his face, flexing it inches away from his perpetually open eyes.

"Actually, sir, this body can lift 260 lbs on the bench press without injury. The load you have is well-enough below to ensure that I may be of service. Still sir, the weight you're lifting is a very respectable amount," Ryan's smile beamed at me, but mine fell.

"Whatever, I'll be fine," I retort, "Just stand over there and mop up my sweat when I'm done."

"Yes, sir."

My little brother takes a step back as I get ready to lift. As stupid as he looks, standing there waiting on me to finish, he also looks pretty fit. His company polo might be sweaty and gross, but it's tight against his improving physique. He's clearly been lifting a lot while he's been working here, but his gains should not count if Moonlight™ is the one actually working out that pathetic little body! The only way he could bulk up was by becoming a fucking puppet! Talk about sad!

"Fuck!" I grunt, tossing the barbell back as I finish. I did a few extra sets to prove a point and now my arms are on fire. "Towel!" I snap.

"Yes, sir," Ryan rushes over and wipes the sweat off my brow. I just laugh in his face.

"I think I got some sweat on my sneakers too," I jab, "You can wipe them off and then put twenty more pounds on the bar."

"Of course, sir."

My brother gets on his knees with the towel, giving my sneakers a cursory buff. I don't know what personal trainer has shoe-shining in his job description, but I've heard these Moonlight™ employees can be pretty pliant. Apparently, you can make them do quite a bit with the loopholes in their programming. Maybe I can get Ryan here to do something even more embarrassing than polishing his big bro's shoes!

The next week, I worked out every night.

Turns out, bullying my little bro was great motivation to go to the gym! When I saw him during the day, I never mentioned the fact that I knew; didn't want to scare him off. At night, I had every opportunity to take out my frustrations on him. If he pissed me off during the day, I could boss him around at the gym, ordering him to follow me around and wipe down every piece of equipment. I could call him whatever names I wanted and yell at him as loudly as I pleased; he had to just stand there with the best customer service smile and say "yes, sir."

Playing around with Ryan was fun, but it wasn't until I went out for a drink that I ran into my second brother. I guess he had the same idea to get hired with Moonlight™...

"Can I fix you a drink, sir?" my brother, the middle child, yells over the club's EDM.

"What the hell?" I shout, "Ryan's dumb enough to Moonlight™, but I didn't think you were!"

Sam just stares back with the same flashlight eyes and widely stretched lips. Of course his programming won't let him do anything outside of bartending! He's probably not even conscious in there! Ryan was always a bit of an impulsive twerp, so I wasn't surprised to see him Moonlighting™, but Sam is different. He'd said he'd never put his body to work at night. Something about the behavior of Moonlighters™ always rubbed him the wrong way...I guess he changed his mind.

"A round of beers," I tell him, warily gesturing to the back corner, "For me and our crew."

Sam's glowing stare looks over my shoulder and sees our friends, the guys we both hang out with, "Yes, sir. I'll have it right out for you."

I return to our pals, anxious for my brother to follow. Sam is only a year younger than myself, so we run around with the same crowd, yet he didn't recognize any of our buds. Now he's about to serve them like a fucking waiter. My catatonic brother is about to walk into the most humiliating situation of his life. I just get to sit back and watch!

"Sam?" one of them asks a moment later.

"Here are your beers, sir," my brother plucks the bottles off his tray and sets them out for each of his friends, completely oblivious to their stunned reactions, "Is there anything else I can get any of you?"

"Holy crap, dude!" another pal turns to me, "Since when did your brother start Moonlight? He looks like a total idiot!"

Sam doesn't seem to register the insult.

"I don't know man," I laugh, "Tonight, I guess."

"Fetch us some napkins," one guy quips with an amused flick of his hand.

"Right away, sir." Sam answers a little too promptly, and whisks away.

"Right away, sir, Ha!" the guy repeats with a mock salute, "We've gotta mess with him!"

Sam returns, obediently passing out napkins, but I'm finding it harder to meet his gaze while he's grinning so manically. This situation is starting to feel more awkward than hilarious. These guys will never let him live this down!

"Sam, get over here and give this paying customer a sloppy BJ!"

My brother stiffens, and for a second a jolt of fear runs down my spine, terrified that Moonlight™ will actually make him comply. Pranks are all good and fun, but I do not want to see my brother about to blow another dude!

"I apologize, sir," he finally resumes, "That is not part of my responsibilities as bartender."

Thank God.

"Then get something to clean this up," he laughs wildly, "You spilled my beer!" Our friend then pours half his drink on the crotch of his jeans, staring at Sam with the amused eyes of a drunk fool. This guy always gets weird after a few drinks. I don't know why we still bring him along. Normally, we just ignore him.

"Of course, sir," Sam answers attentively.

For the next ten minutes, I sit in silent horror as my brother returns with a rag, proceeding to get on his knees and wipe down another man's crotch with painful dedication. Of course, our friends are all howling with laughter at this point, taking video evidence that they can embarrass Sam with later.

It feels like a lifetime, but Sam finally stands up, "I hope I cleaned that up well enough for you, sir."

The guy feels at his wet jeans, saying, "I don't know if that's good enough, bitch."

"I'm sorry, sir, let me try ag-"

"No! It's my turn," someone else cuts in, pushing his way to the front, "You spilled some on my ass that needs cleaned up!"

The gang loses it, doubling over with laughter as Sam prepares to spend the next ten minutes wiping down another guy's ass, but I've had enough, "No! We're done here, thank you. Go close our tab," I bark.

"Yes, sir," Sam turns on his heel. His dumb obedience is more disturbing than entertaining at this point.

Our friends all give me a hard time for sending him away, but I'm not having it. Maybe I'm not drunk enough, but they're enjoying this a lot more than I am. At this point, I'm ready to call it a night and go home, so I say my goodbyes and head for the exit.

The walk home isn't a far one, but I pass a few notable places on the way: one being my dad's dark office building. Our old man has been working late nights there lately. In the dimly lit lobby, I recognize someone...

"Dad?" I gasp.

"Good evening, sir," my father says to me without any note of familiarity in his voice.

"Wait, you're moonlighting too?" it comes out as more of an accusation, but at this point I'm fed up with finding family members secretly working random mind-controlled night jobs.

"I am a security guard employed through the Moonlight™ corporation," his gravelly voice sounds foreign, delivering these programmed prompts, "If you'd like, sir, I can help you apply for a Moonlight™ position, and you can start making the most of your sleeping hours too!"

"Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea, dad?" I ask, knowing this stupid security guard persona isn't capable of answering.

"He didn't."

The voice of someone else in the room sends shivers down my spine. I whip around, and see a gangly, middle-aged man stepping forward.

"Jeff?"

"Hi, Jamie," my uncle says, sauntering up to his far taller brother and resting an arm on his shoulder. My dad's attentive posture doesn't waver. He just keeps on acting like the perfect sentry for the building and the perfect armrest for his brother.

"Do you mind telling me what's going on!?"

He sniffles and sighs like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "Yes, I suppose this charade of mine was doomed to be found out sooner or later. I put your father in the Moonlight™ database. He was just wasting his sleeping hours at home in his bed, and he'd always refuse to let me sign him up, so I did it in secret. He makes a great guard. Right Tom?"

Uncle Jeff claps my dad on the back, prompting him to announce a proud, "Yes, sir!"

"See," my uncle turns back to me, "No harm done. Your old man gets paid to stand around in his sleep. Its harmless!"

"But he doesn't know!" I yell, seething at my uncle's sheer abuse of his place in the company, "This has to be illegal, and are you just pocketing Dad, Ryan, and Sam's salaries?"

He rolls his eyes, "I am right now, but the four of you don't even make that much."

"Did you just say the four of us?" I grunt.

"Oops," he holds a hand to his forehead and curses under his breath.

"AM I FUCKING MOONLIGHTING WHILE I SLEEP TOO?" I am screaming at this point, "You're fucked up!" I bark. Angrily, I stomp towards my uncle, but my father takes a firm step planting himself between me and the man. His steady palm is holding the baton at his belt, making me nervous. Is my dad about to beat me up for this creep?

"Excuse me, sir," my dad smiles at my uncle, "Would you like me to escort this man out of the building?"

"That won't be necessary," my uncle says, "I'll just trigger his Moonlight™ shift to start now. You can go back to standing in the corner"

"Yes, sir," my security guard father answers placidly, returning to his attentive stance.

"You wouldn't," I snarl.

"Oh, trust me, I will. As I understand it, overriding a subject's body while awake means you'll be fully conscious. I'll work on something to make you forget this whole incident later."

He presses a few buttons on an ipad, and suddenly my vision is engulfed in a purple haze. My back straightens, my muscles relax, and I feel my face contorts into a giant smile. Suddenly, my entire body seems to be gone from my grasp, and I'm constrained to a tiny space in my head while something else takes over.

"Enjoy your shift," my uncle snickers with a glare.

"Thank you, sir. I will," I feel my voice pushed out of my throat with an excited tone that isn't mine. Before I know it, my legs are carrying me away from my uncle, leaving him with my father, to march down the dark street...

"Here's your order, sir," my voice has the trademarked Moonlight™ eagerness in it as I reach out the window and hand over the meal.

"Fuck off, sleep-freak!" the teen in the driver's seat flips me off, making his immature friends cackle as they speed off. I can't do anything but smile and watch as they weave away. They have no idea I'm actually conscious in here.

After being forced to leave my uncle, I found myself striding into a fast food restaurant through its backdoor. I could instantly tell the place wasnt anywhere I'd eat at because the dumpster smelled like soggy fries and old meat. The kitchen was a fluorescent-lit pit, with a thick feeling of oil hanging in the air. I could barely take in the surroundings before I was changing out of my clothes by some lockers. I was horrified that Moonlight™ was making me fucking strip, but before long my hands were pulling on new clothes: a uniform. The polo felt like it'd been sitting at the bottom of the locker since the last shift, drying in sweat, and the pants were sticky with something unidentifiable. I was mortified to be pulling on a fucking hairnet and apron, but I had no choice.

"Blondie's here early," a smoker's voice purred from behind me. I had a bad feeling he'd been standing there for a while, watching.

"Hello boss," my voice answers, apparently recognizing the overweight, unshaved creep, "I'm ready to start my shift, sir! Where am I needed today?"

I watched as the man licked his stubbly lips, his beady eyes crawling all over me. Without any shame, his sweaty palm groped the growing bulge in his khakis. He was obviously happy to see me, and he probably thought I couldn't actually see him! I guess, every fucking night that my uncle's made me work in my sleep, I've been under the supervision of THIS pervert!?

"Get to the fryer," his scratchy throat moaned, "You know I want you to get nice and sweaty for later."

"Yes, sir. I'll be sure to work up a sweat for you," I answer, confused and disturbed by my response. The cheer in my voice did not match the overwhelming gloom I felt when the man slapped my ass. His hand lingered on my rear for too long, but I couldn't even frown.

Since then, I've been boiling fries and flipping burgers. Every so often I have to hand an order out the window, but my heart races every time I do. Three orders ago, the customer threw their soda back at my coworker, he's a fairly average guy in his thirties, and he was dowsed in Coca-Cola. It didn't keep Moonlight™'s programming from working: he just kept manning the grill, smiling, eyes glowing, and hair dripping with cherry flavored juice.

"Ouch!" at least, that's what I want to say. The oil sizzles and pops, and a few drops of hot grease splatter onto my arm, but I don’t flinch. The control won’t let me.

Suddenly I feel someone leaning in behind me. My spine shivers as my manager says, "It's closing time, Blondie. I'll send everyone home so you and I can clean up like usual." He whispers it in my ear, with his flabby arms wrapped around me like we're fucking lovers! I wish I could vomit!

"Sounds good, boss," I find myself saying.

One by one, the manager dismisses each of my moonlighting coworkers. I can't help but feel jealous as they strip out of their uniforms by the door. It isn't just that they get to leave; they also have the luxury of not knowing what's going on. They're all asleep. I'd give anything to at least be unaware of whatever this fucking pervert is about to do!

My body is preoccupied with whatever shit needs to be done for closing, wiping down the tables, taking out the trash, and more.

"Mop time," the manager suddenly announces, holding the raggedy thing out expectantly.

"Yes, sir," my voice answers, and I drop what I'm doing to accept the mop. The crotch of his pants is unzipped, but my bodies already turned away from him, turning all my attention to swab the tiles floor.

"You're doing it wrong again, Blondie," he purrs slowly, "I'm gonna have to help you like usual."

"Thank you, sir," my voice sounds grateful, but I am anything but. The pervert presses his rotund body against my back and holds my muscular arms with his own chubby ones. I can feel his penis poking into me below his gut, but my body accepts his touch like he's just a boss helping out an employee.

I guess this asshole found a loophole in Moonlight™'s fucking programming. He's going to touch me all he wants under the guise of demonstrating the right way to mop.

The creep spends the next ten minutes guiding my arms back and forth. "Fuck, you're bubble butt feels even better than usual, Blondie," he breathes in my ear. If I had control of my muscles, he wouldn't stand a chance, but right now, they're putty in my boss's arms. Meanwhile, his waist gets busy dry humping his chode into my rear end. "I'm so glad a jock like you was dumb enough to try Moonlight!" he grunts, his tongue dangerously close to my ear. I can only thank God that he can't take my pants off! After several painful minutes of him spitting more disgusting comments onto my cheek, his arms drop mine and plant themselves on my chest. His hands sloppily grope my pecs and pinch my nipples. I've never felt more pathetic. The man makes one final exclamation, "FUUUCK!" and I can tell he has finally gotten off.

"Thanks for the help, boss," I find myself saying.

With heavy breaths, he staggers back. The sudden open air on my back makes me realize just how hot and sweaty that slob was, and I can feel the slimy remnants of his balls slipping down my back and legs.

"Good job as always, Blondie," he breathes heavily with satisfaction.

"Thank you, sir," I answer. My voice hasn't lost its awful chipper quality, and my face is still stuck in a smile like I hadn't just been taken advantage of.

"Finish mopping up, and then you can lock up and clock out," he winks as if we shared some inside joke. I hate that all he sees is my smile.

"Yes, sir," I answer, but the creep has already waddled out of the building and slammed the door shut.

The sudden silence is unbearable. It makes the monotonous task of mopping the sticky floors all the more unpleasant. What's worse is that I can't pause to wash the manager's cum off my back. It soaks into my pants as I work, trapped in my own body. At least I know why these pants are so sticky. Honestly, I hope Uncle Jeff will wipe my memory...

[danthropologie]

So we say it’s over? I don’t want to believe it, but now I can’t be delulu

no bestie it's never over until it's over!!!!! now look i'm not gonna lie, i woke up. i saw some things. i spiraled a little bit. i cried a little bit. but then i worked thru it and now i think actually it's gonna be ok.

yes christian's comments aren't necessarily great for daniel, but they're not a death nell either? he specifically outlines that they have tons and tons of data on him, so they KNOW what he's been doing, they KNOW what he brings to a team, they KNOW where a lot of his recent form has been down more to the car and strategy decisions than daniel himself.

at the same time he also flat out said that checo hasn't been performing. sure he kinda sorta praised him with the whole "did what was required" thing getting p2 last year, but they HAVE to know that he only got that by pure luck and the skin of his teeth. so maybe it's the delusions speaking, but i still don't really see a world in which he sticks around to next year.

and then yes, you've got him bringing up all these junior drivers, including liam, but at the same time he also brings up GEORGE RUSSELL being out of contract next year, so he can't be THAT sold on these junior drivers when time and time again, he brings up some other completely unrelated wildcard option in the same breath.

also as my beautiful beloved jenna @accio-ricciardo brought up earlier, we have to remember christian is in the midst of negotiating a bunch of contracts at the minute. he can't just be out here heaping praise on any one guy cause that's not going to be good for their bottom line or the negotiating power it would give up to said guy. being 'meh' on pretty much everyone is unfortunately probably the best strategy for him to take atm.

and then i think there's also the sponsor angle to think about here? there's no way the sponsors aren't wanting to keep daniel, and that goes doubly so if they DO lose (get rid of) checo like i expect them to. like i'm sorry but liam and some fucking nobody rookie are not going to replace the sponsor pull power of EITHER of them, even combined lmao.

and in terms of this week, as mentioned earlier, they DO have tons and tons and tons of data on daniel and christian flat out said that, so i don't think that this one bad quali or one bad weekend is going to make or break him. but also do think there IS a chance to recover and still have a good race tomorrow- the car is good, there's room to make moves, he's further back so better chance of getting an insane strategy that somehow actually works, i'm wearing my red bull miami23 shirt today so the power of rocky compels him same as it did on friday after i wore it on thursday......i think we're gonna be ok

[captain-mj]

I’m gonna need Roacj to come and sweep Simon off his feet and Soap to be heart broken and full of regret. He doesn’t deserve Ghost

Why not!! Previous part for my folks interested

Ghost had listened to Price for once and he hadn't touched Soap's messages. Eventually, they slowed down, but eight days after the incident and he still received one each morning and each night. They ran into each other a few times, but Ghost would simply walk right past him.

Price managed to get Ghost permission to use his flat, due to how close base was, for the next little while which was a huge relief for him.

It had gotten late at night and Ghost had taken another "special cigar" from Price and he checked the most recent message from Soap. Just the most recent one.

"Please, Si, talk to me. It won't happen again." From two hours ago.

Ghost thought it over and then texted back. "Soap, we're not going to work out. Easier for us both to cut our losses."

"That's all you have to say? We exchanged I love you's. I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life."

"And how many people this week have you given that line too, huh? Either zip it or get blocked."

When another message came through, he went to his most recent messages with Price. "I want to go on that date. With Bug or whatever his name is."

"Roach, but yeah. I can make it happen." Price answered a little too fast and Ghost decided he didn't want to know why he was still up at this hour. He blocked Soap for the time being and enjoyed the rest of his high until he managed to fall asleep.

By morning, he had received the information for a reservation at 7 pm at a restaurant he liked well enough. A little more formal than he'd choose for a first date, but he planned to use Price's card for it anyway. Ever since Graves started funding the man, he had more money than he really needed and Ghost was more than happy to help him with the problem.

He didn't unblock Soap to see how many new messages he sent. He simply left his phone on his dresser and went about his day until 6. Only then did he check his phone to see a message from a new number. "Hey, Ghost! This is Roach (or Bug lol). I wanted to text you before we went on our date."

Ghost winced when he saw the poor guy had sent that message had been sent hours ago. "Left my phone in my room."

It took a few minutes before he heard the little ding of his phone. "That's alright. I know you're a busy man. Are you planning on wearing your mask tonight?"

Then a selfie came and Ghost regretted not taking Price up on this blind date sooner. Roach had his mask on, but his eyes and hair were free. He was so cute. Ghost didn't usually use that word to describe men, but that's what Roach was.

Big brown eyes and the hint of freckles. Soft looking hair that curled and stuck up everywhere. "I wanted to make sure you knew what I looked like."

Ghost hesitated before sending a picture of himself, just a medical mask on so they were on semi equal footing.

"You're just as handsome as Laswell said you would be."

His heart did something weird. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. "Thanks. You're not bad yourself."

"You flatter me, Ghost. I do need to talk to you about something before we go tonight."

Ghost gritted his teeth. "Alright."

"I'm mute. I carn hear just fine and I'm willing to text or write things down."

"Do you know BSL?"

"The basics. I mostly use ASL."

"We'll use BSL until I'm better ASL then. I'll meet you tonight, I'm going to get dressed before I'm late. It would be a horrible first impression."

Roach responded with a thumbs up. Unknown to Ghost, Roach was glad for the reprieve because Ghost casually letting him know he'd just learn a language for him before they even went on a first date (as well as letting him know they had an easy way to communicate until he finished learning the language) had his own heart doing palpitations. And that was before he even thought of Ghost's picture again.

Handsome had been understating it. He had wanted to actually ask Ghost if he wanted a new dog because he could be a really good one. But Laswell and Price had let him on the fact that Ghost's last relationship hadn't ended very well and that he'd need to be eased into it a little. So he pulled himself back and gave a much more calm response.

Both of them met each other in the front of the restaurant while waiting for host to seat them. The sparks were immediate, Ghost finding himself having a hard time looking away from Roach's eyes.

Roach pulled out Ghost's seat which surprised him a little. He still sat down though and hummed his appreciation. "Also, I'll be paying. More accurately, Price will be paying."

Even with only half of his face showing and no voice, Roach was easily the most expressive person Ghost had ever seen. They found ASL and BSL had more common signs than they first thought, but occasionally they'd run into signs with different or even contradictory meanings that would make them bring out their phones to compare.

"Oh, do you want me to order for ya? I can't imagine it's that easy ordering." While Ghost was sure that the staff would try to be accommodating, if Roach didn't want to deal with it, he'd be happy to help.

Roach immediately looked relieved and nodded, showing Ghost what he wanted. He was leaning forward and Ghost could see the start of the scar at the base of his throat that led underneath the mask.

Roach was incredibly smart. Not that Soap wasn't, he was mad at him, but he didn't think he was stupid as some people joked. But Roach had such in depth knowledge about a long, long list of topics and he didn't shy away from learning more about any gaps.

Occasionally Roach would single for Ghost to pull his mask down. He almost managed to keep the waitstaff from seeing his face at all, though there were a few times Roach had visibly been too wrapped up in what he was saying to notice when one of them was coming. He was less shy about showing his face than Ghost, though he clearly didn't like it.

They spent so much time talking, about how different insects are classified and the differences between British and American branches and what it's like being mute in the military, especially since his muteness was caused by an injury from the military, that the waitress had to not so subtly interrupt to ask if there was two bills or one.

Ghost told her one and gave her Price's card, eyes never leaving Roach's. He didn't want the night to end. "Do you want to go somewhere else?"

Roach signed back. "Want to get milkshakes and walk around somewhere?"

Ghost thought that was a very bizarre thing to do. "Yeah. Why not."

So they left. They hired an uber and kept talking, switching to only sign language so the poor driver wouldn't hear them arguing over the superior breakfast food. Ghost didn't actually believe it was beans on toast, but he knew he drove any not from Britain crazy. Roach was insisting it was biscuits and gravy. Eventually, the bug brushed him off and said he'd make them for him in the morning.

"Oh? That convinced we'll go home together?"

Roach glanced at him. "If it's not moving too fast for you."

Ghost blinked at him, stopping and actually thinking about it. "Yeah. I'd like to take you home."

Roach smiled. "You owe me a milkshake first though."

Ghost did in fact buy him a milkshake, with his own card even, before they walked around a park. At one point, Roach motioned at Ghost's milkshake a few times and Ghost offered him a taste. Roach tried his chocolate malt and nodded appreciatively. He offered his banana milkshake for Ghost to try. They didn't break eye contact as he tried it.

"It's good."

Roach smiled at him and moved a little closer. He used just one of his hands, but he signed it real slow. "Want to see what they taste like together?"

Ghost was kissing him before he even finished.

They did, in fact, go back to Ghost's flat and got very acquainted with his bed specifically.

And Roach did make him biscuits and gravy in the morning. Ghost reluctantly admitted that it beat beans on toast. Then, he admitted he didn't actually like beans on toast.

Roach hit his shoulder rather hard and ate with a little faux anger until that got boring and he was back to talking. Well, in between bites of food.

When the doorbell rang, Ghost's heart sank. "Not many people have my address." He grabbed a gun.

Roach looked a little amused at the weapon but nodded and made a motion for his own. Ghost did indeed provide one to him before pullling on a mask and answering the door.

Johnny was there. He was only Johnny cause he was out of uniform. "Hey."

"Hi." Simon felt disillusioned. The past 12 or so hours had honestly been perfect. With Soap, he had always had to explain things. Push back. There was always an effort on both parts to make the other feel comfortable. And while Roach seemed more than willing to put in effort and Ghost definitely felt he would, it didn't feel necessary to. They just kinda... fit in a way Ghost was realizing that he never did with Soap.

It was a weird thought. When he found out about Soap's casual fucking of half the base, he prepared himself to spiral. And he had even started. But now that he had a very successful date, and the most mind blowing night of his life cause Roach knew how to do things with his tongue, he felt like he had very suddenly just moved on. He didn't even notice it had happened. During his whole date, Soap hadn't crossed his mind at all.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Ghost responded, cause it was. While the memory still hurt and he wasn't sure he could work with Soap any time soon, it took more energy at this point to keep thinking about it. Energy he didn't want to keep spending on MacTavish. "Listen, I'm busy."

"Going somewhere? I can walk with you. I would like to... talk..." Soap was looking past Ghost now and directly at Roach.

"Ah. This is Sergeant Sanderson. He's American, visiting in the area for a mission Laswell sent him on."

"And he's wearing your clothes?"

"We also slept together."

Soap's face went through a range of emotions. Jealousy, guilt, a strange tinge of relief that Ghost didn't want to unpack, then anger that didn't fit the situation in Ghost's opinion. He didn't respond. It felt like they just ran out of things to say. "Simon."

Roach used the butt of the gun, tapping it against the wall. His eyes narrowed at Soap with a strangely dangerous look.

"Ghost."

Another tap against the wall.

"Lieutenant Riley." Soap hissed through his teeth.

Roach seemed satisfied with that, grabbing Ghost's arm and leaning against his side. He tugged his sleeve to get his attention and jerked his head back to show he wanted to get back to eating with him.

"Sorry, bug. If you want to go sit down, I'll only be another minute."

Roach didn't look sure but nodded. He grabbed Ghost's hand and gave it a small kiss through the fabric of his mask. Ghost wasn't sure he even knew when he put it back on, but he looked just as lovely either way.

Only when Roach was clearly gone, did Soap speak back up. "Replace me that fast huh?"

"At least I made it clear we were through before fucking him."

"Look-"

"No." Ghost cut him off and shook his head. "I don't want to fight. Truly, I don't. We're done. I don't want this. I don't want you."

Soap frowned more and there was clearly hesitation. "Si."

"I never liked that nickname. My brother used it when we were little. I realized last night you never asked. First thing Roach did was ask if I had any family left. He's incredibly considerate. He's so nice to me. Last night, he did things while we were out that I couldn't remember anyone doing for me before. The man made me breakfast for fuck's sake."

"I could've made you breakfast." It sounded vaguely petulant. A last plea of some sorts that fell flat before it even left his tongue.

"Yeah. You could've."

Roach had finished his plate and looked a little upset. He signed at him. "I didn't like how he talked to you."

"I saw. Don't like people calling me Simon."

Roach shook his head. "You're a lieutenant. They should call you that."

"They? You not included in that Sergeant?"

"I get special privileges."

"Cause you're pretty?"

"Cause I'm yours."

[kaoharu]

so honest i cant stop thinking abt how silly shin is. not good

[girlwiththegreenhat]

hey when they wrote "knight behind bars" and they wrote kitt helping a couple get together and they gave him the line "Some day, it will be my turn" [to find love]. did they know what they were doing. did they know that in some 40 years some gay autistic robot-obsessed little freak on tumblr would not stop thinking about it for weeks and write literal dozens of paragraphs screaming about it on discord. did they know they were going to ruin Me, Specifically, with this concept that feels like the culmination of everything kitt has gone through through the show and such a fascinating thing to think about in regards to michael and kitt's relationship,

one of the themes of knight rider is kitt developing as a Person, developing a line between the Knight Industries Two-Thousand, and Kitt. discovering humanity, his own emotions, the joys of the seemingly and logically pointless, and often through the lens of his own driver, his partner, his friend, Michael - his primary guide through all these experiences, his reference for those human things he doesn't understand. and as much as he initially claims to not be capable of experiencing emotions, of understanding feelings, he learns to. he experiences a wide range of emotions through the show even while claiming he doesn't, he even learns fear and insecurity. perhaps it's only natural a robot would learn to love, or at the very least be terribly curious about it and wonder if such a thing could ever exist for Him

the majority of people are not exactly kind to kitt. they talk about him like he's not there, they talk about him like he's a machine, a novelty, some people are even scared of or disturbed by him when all he's trying to do is make polite conversation and company. he's always Othered - there's no other cars like him (at least not anymore), but there's no other person like him either, he doesn't truly belong among humans or vehicles. some of the technicians at FLAG don't even seem to fully respect him as a person, at least they don't based on my vague recollection of how they talk about him in Junkyard Dog. when Michael asks him after KARR is destroyed if it feels good to be one of a kind again, he doesn't say yes or no - he only says it's a "familiar feeling." it may be familiar, but it's surely also isolating, and i think that's something he'd realize as he slowly picks up this curiosity about love. where could he even find it when so few people see him as an equal person to begin with?

and then there's michael. oh my god, and then there's michael. no matter what flavor you choose to read it in, the whole show is about their relationship, they're a duo, a set Not to be separated, they're Partners. they work together, they worry about and look after each other (forever insane about when kitt was a melted shell, Michael stuck around the garage for hours, waiting for any news like a worried spouse, constantly checking on him every opportunity he got... encouraging him to recover, and even helping paint back on his protective coating... kitt always looks after michael, but for once, it's michael's turn to look after Him), in a way they were Made for each other - Kitt more literally, being programmed for Michael and holding his namesake, but Michael was also made in a sense for the pilot program, hand picked and given a second life to work for the foundation and with this strange supercar. and even if they had a rocky start, michael comes to view kitt as a person - car, TV set, or computer core, Kitt is his partner, his buddy. he helps him find himself, guides him and teaches him about these things that make us human, and in a way, kitt becomes human - but his entire experience is still through the perspective of an AI in a car, it's still very unique and isolating, and I think he sort of grows into his own limitations, he's finally brushing against the walls that define him.

he learns of love, and then he learns to dream Of love. these things he sees in the movies, that michael tells him about, that he so often sees michael Partaking in that he gets so oddly jealous of, doesn't it all seem so wonderful? he's very curious. but who could ever love steel and circuitry, who could ever see him as an equal let alone a partner in a romantic sense? who would ever love a car and all the limitations That comes with? it's a problem for a hypothetical hopeful Some Day, in the meantime stuck between two worlds where he doesn't perfectly belong to either, where no car Can love him and no human seemingly Would love him...

and michael loves him anyway. before either of them really realize or talk about it, in spite of everything, in any form, regardless of the fact it wouldn't be a typical relationship by absolutely any means, michael loves him anyway. kitt is as much a person to him as bonnie or devon or RC, and that person is someone he loves and cares for deeply. the feeling is mutual, kitt's world revolves around michael, he's one of the most important people in kitt's life, and he'd do anything to protect him.

and it is michael that will finally teach him to love, and what it means to feel loved in turn, to be loved as the person he undoubtedly is.

[jwooyoung]

hi everyone I miss you 🥺

[beaversatemygrandma]

Interview. Interview. Oh Another interview. Interview. Interview. Guess what's next? An interview that a manager is like "Today at 2pm sound good?" which I took bc yeah, it was good...

I'm tired.

Now will ANY OF THEM ACTUALLY Call Me Back???

[cementcornfield]

https://www.instagram.com/stories/lahjay10_/3333148194127836397?igsh=c2JmdTZ6MHp0bm5m

Remember when Ja’Marr said that he’s waiting for Joe to be ready and then he’ll get on a plane for him ?? Well our man’s was said to be throwing already 👀 I know Uno was so happy lol

Obviously we have no idea what this picture means or where he is or what's happening BUT anon, you and i are on the same page. My first thought OF COURSE was that he's taking a picture of the field that he and joe are on having their first throwing session together in months (but he's respecting joe's privacy so he's not showing joe in the picture). 🥹🥹

[sanchoyo]

haven’t been on much bc my dog has been sick :( between seizures and an infected tooth we’ve been having a Time trying to get everything fixed (this started around the holidays so our vet has been very booked up…we have been like 3-4 times in the past 4-5 weeks OTL does not help it’s like an hour drive there, so that’s been exhausting) now his new seizure meds are making him sick (was hoping it was like, just an adjustment period thing but he’s been sick for a week and having concerning symptoms…) if I’m not on a ton or slow to replying to messages it’s bc I’m working as much overtime as my job will give me bc Vet Expensive and mentally drained obvi 😞

[i-appear-misssing]

I just had the horrible thought that I need to fall in love because having devastating crushes on beautiful, competent, authoritative women that I desperately want to please is exhausting and I need it to stop

[vvitchering]

One of the things I think this season really suffered from was lack of a physically present villain and MAN I am so annoyed it took them until now to dust off Moff Gideon and get him back in the game. He was excellent in today's episode and having him back to love to hate immediately boosts my interest in the show. To reintroduce him wearing beskar armor as a way to desecrate and mock Mandalorian culture was actually one of the best creative decisions in the entire show so far. This man is unhinged. He is despicable. He is evil.

[neverendingford]

.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[scattered-winter]

.

[meownotgood]

I just got hired at the best job ever I'm literally so excited baaaAAAAAAAHHhhhh

I rant a lot in the tags I'm sorry

[weenieliker]

🦐...