#soap and riot

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Amazing comission by the even more amazing @temeyes whose art I love dearly and always make me laugh

I'm so in love with it I don't have words, it's them, their friendship, him being a little shit lmao and her face of "I'm so done". Sibling vibes.

Thank you tim 🫂❤️

[br1ghtestlight]

inanimate insanity fans love to say season two was better but you KNOW when it comes back they're going to complain and say it was worse and hate everything about it. there don't even need to be any stylistic or writing changes they'll hate it no matter what happens

[kennexara]

like i can appreciate what they’re going for with the mexico roadtrip looking to be just johnny and robby.

however i still think it would be hilarious if sam also went to mexico with miguel so daniel invites himself to what was going to be johnny’s lone wolf expedition. and johnny goes along with it because it means daniel gives him yet another car. and then robby asks if he can come and johnny says yes because he gets that it’s a test of if he actually cares or not, but also because they all quickly realize robby knows more spanish than johnny and daniel combined. 

except. like. they haven’t even left reseda yet and robby’s already debating jumping out of the car into incoming traffic because of johnny and daniel doing that thing where they flip between being scarily in sync to trying to karate kick the other in a moving vehicle.

so robby decides he gets to invite a friend and they agree because, like, they know most of his friends, right? probably? it’s not like he’d invite kyler or something. so they pull up and daniel and johnny are doing the daniel and johnny thing and so don’t notice tory getting in the backseat until she makes some snide comment about them flirting. 

it shuts them up for like 30 seconds but it’s the quietest 30 seconds robby’s had since he agreed to this trip. it might’ve been longer but then daniel’s phone rings. it’s the dealership, they got a call from the local jail for him. well, for johnny, since johnny still hasn’t replaced his phone. it’s kreese asking for bail money. johnny and daniel are like hell no on principle. except tory leverages what she knows about terry rigging the tournament to get them to pay bail. 

and like, kreese has nothing better going on, he might as well tag along. in fact, it becomes part of his plan. if he can convince johnny and daniel he’s their ally by helping out with this, they can all work together to take down terry. 

so it’s a roadtrip of the 5 people with the weirdest relationships to each other. 6 actually, nobody thought to pack luggage which means nobody checked the trunk. an few hours into the trip when they’ve stopped for gas anthony pops out of the trunk because his nintendo switch died and he’s also hungry. 

at some point everyone’s phones get lost and they spend the entire trip convinced everything is falling apart back in LA, when in fact chozen is teaching the kids how to do karate without becoming unhinged. one week in and he’s already everyone’s favorite sensei. also amanda has signed up all of the kids for therapy. 

[a-princess-dragon]

My Roman Empire is the narrative spun by the people in my college French textbook. They had so much going on! The romance! The betrayal! The soccer!

[thatfantasylovingdork]

(May I also state my opinion that Star Wars is a decades-spanning soap opera with lasers?)

[guideaus]

ohana holoholo sure was a manga lol

[bunnyreaper]

captain mactavish's reputation precedes him, and yet standing before you as he does now, you can't help but wonder if something got lost in translation. 

soap is a riot once you get him going! he used to be even wilder, if you can believe it.  always was up for a laugh as a sergeant!

the man before you looks a little grizzled with age--stubble growing out to a beard, face smeared with black warpaint, and yet beneath thick brows, his blue eyes still sparkle despite his glower. handsome though, still incredibly handsome--which in your mind, is a problematic trait for a captain to have, especially one commanding you. 

he chats away to one of his sergeants, seemingly unaware of your presence on the periphery. assignment to this task force is only temporary, you reassure yourself. facing the captain's offensive good looks and intimidating demeanour will last a couple of weeks at most.

taking a breath, you step forward, just outside of the circle of captain mactavish and his sergeants. all eyes fall to you, but his are the ones you can't tear your gaze from. he seems to scrutinise you for a moment, cerulean eyes flickering up and down your form.

"you on ma team?" his voice isn't what you expected, and his accent is delicious--you know you're capable of remaining professional despite it all.

"yes sir." you chirp back instantly, obediently--hoping to not get on the wrong side of your newfound crush. 

he nods once at each of his soldiers, dismissing them before turning and heading in the direction of the nearby truck. it takes a moment for you to process before your legs catch up to your thoughts and you start following the captain. 

"keep up then lass, let's go." he calls over his shoulder, before stopping at the passenger side door. 

it's strange how he opens it for you, watching with intense eyes as you pull your gun into your lap and sink into the seat. captain mactavish takes the driver's seat, and quickly gets the car going down the dirt track.

your thoughts start to flood back to you now you're settled in the truck and have a few moments to think before you really need to get your head in the game. 

was the captain not expecting your assignment? it was rather rushed, even taking you by surprise. you'd only just had the chance to ask around about the captain before you were on the next flight over. perhaps you should introduce yourself properly. 

"i'm--" 

your words are cut off before you can even get out your name. "i ken who ye are." he says, voice a little deadpan and jaw a little tight--it makes your heart fall in a way it certainly shouldn't. 

the whole situation just left you perplexed. it seemed captain john mactavish definitely contained multitudes, and the gruff man you saw before you was what you would get while you were out on the field. 

"then why did you ask if I was the one on your team?" you ask, determined to not fall silent lest the atmosphere suffocate you. 

the captain throws his hand over the back of your seat, eyes meeting yours only briefly before he checks the view out of the back of the truck and starts reversing at speed. 

"jus' wanted to hear ye say 'yes sir.'" 

he glances back to you as he jerks the car around. a smirk tugs at his lips, and then he throws you a wink as you finally get to see that playful side you were promised. "sounds so pretty coming from yer mouth, doll." 

[cielmeowtan]

the way my last braincell would riot for hurt!Soap and protective!Ghost

[relblogs]

Absolutely fascinated by this ad Facebook tried to get me to watch that wants me to bury a tiny alarm clock to reduce garden pests and parasites.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“The last endemic case of smallpox in Canada occurred in 1946, but before widespread vaccination, smallpox outbreaks were common. Smallpox was a self-limiting, deadly disease caused by the variola major and variola minor viruses. It spread through respiratory droplets, and infection of the sebaceous glands produced pustules that would burst, leaving scar tissue pockmarks in 65%–80% of patients. The case fatality rate was about 15% in unvaccinated and unvariolated people who became sick with smallpox. Those who survived developed immunity.

In March 1885, a conductor of the Grand Trunk Railway arrived in Montréal carrying smallpox, which soon spread through the city.6 Subsequent vaccination efforts did not unfold smoothly. Several cases of erysipelas after vaccination, likely caused by unsanitary conditions, led health officials to believe that a bad batch of vaccines was being used. This led to a suspension of the vaccination program for 3 months, starting in May 1885. People opposed to the vaccination spread word that the smallpox vaccine was dangerous and pulled down warning signs that public health workers posted to the homes of people who were diagnosed with smallpox. In poor, predominantly French-speaking areas of the city, the disease flourished; contemporary English-speaking editorials blamed the living conditions of slums occupied by the poor, ignoring the uneven and often poor quality of the vaccination program. Over the summer, the epidemic became worse.

By Sept. 2, 1885, the Board of Health in Montréal believed that there were about 2000 cases of smallpox present in the city. By Sept. 28, some experts were estimating 4000 cases. By late September, sanitary police began to forcibly remove people from housing conditions that made isolation impossible, often using harsh tactics, isolating the poor from housing and social support. On Sept. 28, the Board of Health announced that vaccination was to be made compulsory. In response, a “howling mob” surrounded the East End Branch Health Office that evening and “wrecked” the building.6 Protestors were as concerned with matters of identity as with vaccination, shouting phrases like, “Hurrah for the French-Canadians; Montréal is no longer for the English nor Irish.”7

Constables gathered, but were driven away by the mob. The crowd travelled through the city, smashing windows of pharmacies that sold vaccines and of the homes of health officers. Antivaccine protesters smashed all the windows in the Central Police Station. The Chief of Police was stabbed and stoned, though he survived. Rioters fired at police, and police escalated their tactics in an attempt to disperse the mob. They armed themselves with rifles and bayonets, firing above the heads of the crowd. Finally, they began clubbing the rioters, causing them to break into groups that continued the destruction of property, damaging various buildings.

The next day, officials worried that more violence would occur. Although the Board of Health was ambivalent about resorting to force, 1400 armed military men gathered at the city hall and patrolled the city. Sanitary police were issued revolvers. The Board of Health blamed the riots on lies told by vaccine opponents — that vaccine administrators would enter women’s bedrooms and tie children down to be vaccinated. No further major violence occurred. Whether the display of force was effective, or the crowd had ceased interest in rioting, or simply was not organized, is unclear. For the most part, the riot resulted only in property damage.

In the 5-week period ending on Oct. 31, 1391, people died of smallpox in Montréal. Of those, 1286 were French-speaking and about 90% were children under 10 years. Ultimately, the outbreak resulted in at least 19 905 cases and 5964 deaths in the province of Quebec, with 3259 of these deaths in Montréal alone.8

The outcome of the riot was neither capitulation to the demands of antivaccine activists, nor a heavy-handed enforcement of policy. Rather, after this epidemic, the opposition to vaccination shifted to courtrooms and activist leagues. Ontario passed a Vaccination Act in 1887, which required that “parents must have their children vaccinated against smallpox within three months of birth and re-vaccinated when necessary every seven years.” It allowed cities to issue vaccination orders in the event of a smallpox outbreak, and allowed school boards to demand that students provide a vaccination certificate.9 The Anti-Vaccination League of Canada emerged in 1900, in part a reaction to the Vaccination Act, modelling its rhetoric and methods on British antivaccine groups. The British Anti-Compulsory Vaccination League had been founded in 1867, and in 1885 had its own (peaceful) march in Leicester with an estimated 100 000 attendees.10

Arguments from antivaccine campaigners invoked concerns about individual liberties and fears that the risk of vaccination might exceed the benefits. At the time, smallpox vaccines used lymph taken from cowpox pustules on cows or infected humans, and vaccines could become contaminated and cause secondary infections.11 Vaccine opponents wondered why some people became sick despite being vaccinated.12 Among physicians, theoretical questions swirled around how vaccination worked, and many wondered if cowpox, used to make vaccines, was caused by the same virus as smallpox.13

Notably for physicians today, it was not scientific uncertainty alone that allowed antivaccine campaigners to effectively push back against public health laws. In 1906, 2 decades after the Montréal riots, the Anti-Vaccination League of Canada succeeded in convincing the Toronto Department of Health to remove a vaccination requirement from schools. Antivaccine activists framed their opposition in terms of social class and personal autonomy. Alexander Ross, one of the founders of the League, wrote in 1888, “It is the poor wives and children of laboring men; it is the clerks in the stores and operatives in factories and workshops; it is the workingmen and women that are threatened and driven by the hirelings of the infamous compulsory vaccination law.”14 Opposition to smallpox vaccination, whether expressed by angry crowds or constrained to courtrooms, communicated discomfort with a shift in power over a personal health decision.”

- from Jonathan M. Berman, “When antivaccine sentiment turned violent: the Montréal Vaccine Riot of 1885.” Canadian Medical Association Journal. April 6, 2021.

Image is: Drawing by Robert Harris is titled “Incident of the smallpox epidemic, Montréal.” It illustrates sanitary police removing patients from the public through the use of force, contemporary to the antivaccination riots of 1885. Public domain.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Very heartfelt thanks to @gheistheist for allowing me to discover the very next rabbithole in which I'll spend countless hours making shit up.

And while you're at it please GO pay them a visit because they're absolutely fantastic

[killerpancakeburger]

I'm the powder, you’re the fuse

SUMMARY: Soap finds out that his girlfriend is a skilled mercenary. And that he likes it... a lot.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader

TAGS: Established relationship, Badass!Reader, Smitten!Soap.

WARNINGS: Canon violence, mention of: blood, death, kidnapping/hostage taking, torture, weapons, suggestive content (Soap is Horny), military inaccuracies, swearing.

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

A/N: yes I am still writing the civilian fic with Ghost and Soap... but then I had this idea and thought I could finish it ""quickly"". Written on mobile so if there are mistakes feel free to tell me!!

Soap let out a yawn big enough to dislocate his jaw, staring at his captain with mild resentment.

“This couldn’t hae waited til after breakfast, sir?”

“‘Fraid It could not, John. Actually in just a few minutes you'll be barking at me to know why we haven't gotten a move on already.”

Johnny looked back at his superior with perplexity, before glancing over at his teammates around the table, hoping for a scrap of information. Ghost remained imperturbable while Gaz shrugged.

“We received this video thirty minutes ago. Addressed to a certain Sergeant MacTavish.”

His captain turned on the projector and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall behind him. It was his teammates’ turn to glance at him questioningly, and to him to shrug with ignorance.

The Scottish soldier rubbed his face in an attempt to get rid of his lasting drowsiness as the video projected on the white screen facing them was starting.

A group of armed men in balaclavas were occupying a room. The one in the front spouted the classic ransom demand in exchange for a hostage. Nothing worth being summoned at the crack of dawn for.

Then the spokesman moved aside, revealing their detainee, bound to a chair and gagged, shooting daggers at her captors, and Soap almost knocked over the table with how brutally he stood up. Carried away by white-hot fury, he slammed his hands on the table.

“Fuckin’ - what the fuck is this!? When did this happen? Where are those fucking bastards? I -”

Rage had roughened his usually smooth voice, granting it a gravelly pitch, turning his shout into a growl.

“Control yourself, Sergeant”, interrupted Price, “It's not over yet.”

On the screen, the same man as before grabbed your hair, ignoring your murderous glare, forcing you to look at the camera, and coaxed you with disdain before taking off your gag:

“Come on doll, gonna have to beg real pretty for your man to get him to rescue you.”

The second your mouth was freed, you snarled at him, baring your teeth like you were about to bite.

“I'm gonna rip your throat out with my bare hands, you f-”

“Fuck, someone muzzle that rabid bitch”, swore your agressor, your belligerence clearly having thrown a wrench in his plans.

Soap could not help the flare of pride soaring in his chest at the view of your defiance and your grit.

After receiving their orders, the team left the room to prepare themselves for the assault. 

“A friend of yours?” asked Gaz, while Ghost questioned “Ya know her?”

“That's mah girl”, admitted the Scotsman, a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away. The cat was out of the bag. For your own sake, you had been a well-kept secret, but it was blatant that it didn’t protect you.

“Been together for a year. Never meant to drag her into this, though.”

“She sounds like a bloody riot, mate.” teased Garrick.

“She doesn't seem fazed to be taken hostage. Mainly pissed.” pointed out Ghost, wary.

“She's fearless.” admitted Soap with an enamored little smile. “Doesn't mean we don’t have to get her out of this though.”

His expression shifted from fondness to cold determination.

“‘F course.”

“We've got your back.”

“Gaz? You copy?” called Ghost over coms.

The afornamed was tasked with overwatch. His response arrived, marked by hesitation.

“...  I don't think she needs our help, guys.”

“The fuck s’that supposed to mean?” grumbled the Lieutenant.

“It'd be better if you'd see for yourselves. Third window on the right, second floor.”

Ghost took out a pair of binoculars and pointed them at the given position.

“Fooking hell…”

The expletive was mumbled with a mix of surprise and… awe?

“What? What! Lemme see L.T.!” pleaded Soap.

Ghost quickly passed him the tool, eager to make him shut up. The sergeant hastened to shove them against his face. His gaze took in the sight in front of him and he let out an appreciative whistle.

“Steamin’ jesus…”

He drank in the view that was your bloody display of fierce skill and deadly efficiency. You staggered between the enemies with fluidity, making them seem like clumsy amateurs. Slicing a throat there, shooting a head here, he watched with fascination as you used a dead attacker as a human shield.

“I think I'm hard.”

“TMI,  Soap.” 

Gaz coupled his comment with a gagging noise.

“Can ye blame me! Mah lass is oot there bein’ a bonafide badass ‘n’ that's the hottest shit a've ever seen.”

“M not blaming you for being a horny bastard, I'm blaming you for not keeping it to yourself.”

“If you two are done bickering, we could go pick her up.” groaned Ghost.

Letting Garrick past, he grabbed Soap by the shoulder as he was walking by him.

“You knew?”

“Knew what?”

“That you were going out with a killer.”

“Nae, but it turned out to be a good thing, didn’t it? Cannae imagine how badly this would have ended with a civilian. The wounds, the trauma…”

Ghost let out one of his grunts that Johnny knew meant “I disagree but it's not worth debating you about it.”

Positioning themselves near that final entrance, Soap nodded in response to Ghost's hand signal, waiting for him to break the door down. They were still on their gard in case some of the assailants survived.

In the ensuing silence, your voice reached his ears through the wall he was propped against.

“Come on doll”, you taunted, imitating your captor's scornful tone from earlier, sickly sweet then venomous. “Tell me who you work for and I won't gouge out your remaining eye.”

Johnny gulped. Eavesdropping on this definitely did not help with the… situation in his pants.

The racket produced by Ghost dealing with the door had the merit to make him focus once again. 

His body moving automatically, his training taking over, Soap charged into the room, pointing his rifle at the only person left standing there. Like a reflection of himself, you were aiming your own firearm at him. Your eyebrows were frowned in concentration, your eyes glinting with cold determination. Then recognition dawned on your face, and you heaved a sigh of relief, lowering your weapon.

“It's you! You scared the shit out of me.”

Relief flooded through him at the sight of you, bruised, battered, and blood-spattered, but alive. He tossed his gun aside as you put down yours, ready to embrace you, but Ghost's voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Back off, Soap.”

An order. Johnny stared at him in shock.

“What the hell, L.T.?”, he hissed in his direction.

You docilely raised your hands in the air as the masked man lined up the end of his gun's barrel with your head.

“Worst rescue party ever”, you mumbled to yourself.

“Sorry, Johnny”, grumbled Skullface, not sounding sorry in the slightest, never taking his eyes off you. “But do your usual conquests take down a dozen armed men on their own?”

Illustrating his words, he gestured with his rifle to the ground littered with corpses. The man you had started to interrogate - the only one left alive - whined in pain.

“So what's your deal? Ya a mole? Shagging Johnny for intel?”

“Ghost!” Soap gasped, offended for himself as much as for you. “M not some clueless newbie!”

You made a face at the question. You understood where he was coming from, hell you’d do the same if the roles were reversed, but that didn’t mean you enjoyed sharing details of your sordid past, especially with a stranger. The less people knew about it, the better.

“I used to be a mercenary for a family who did organized crime. Been clean for years though.”

“Oh yeah? They let you leave just like that?”

“The boss’ daughter had a soft spot for me.”

The lieutenant stared at you for a few more seconds, as if judging the veracity of your statements through sight alone, before lowering his weapon.

A resounding “Bonnie!” rang out. Next thing you knew, your boyfriend's muscular arms closed around you, causing you to yelp, pain running through you at the overeager contact. Soap cursed and apologized profusely.

“Bloody hell, a'm sorry, didnae mean tae hurt ye. Are ye alright? Show me where it hurts. If those bastards leid a hand on ye, I swear-”

There was something both flattering and arousing with how the more Soap lost his cool, the more pronounced his accent became, and the rougher his voice sounded. You placed a finger across his mouth to put an end to his verbal onslaught, an endeared smile on your own.

“At ease, soldier. I'm OK, just some bruised ribs and a busted eyebrow.” you summarized while pointing to the trickle of dried blood on the side of your face.

He leaned his forehead against yours, a gesture that felt terribly intimate, an adoring grin adorning his lips.

“Cannae believe ye wiped out those sorry fuckers all on yer own. Fuck, that's hot.” he confessed in a subdued tone.

You threw your head back in laughter, only to wince when your sore ribs manifested themselves.

“Never heard that one before. Could get used to it, though.”

You laced your fingers behind his neck, nonchalantly leaning against him, not fighting back an impish smile. Soap's hands grabbed your hips in response. Your roguish expression must have gotten the better of his restraint, because one breath later, he was hungrily pressing his mouth against yours. You replied in kind, swiftly deciding you did not care for his colleagues’ presence, and he moaned in appreciation.

After a minute or two, you broke the kiss against your will, remembering an issue that needed to be solved. You smiled, amused by the vision that was Soap chasing your lips blindly, then pouting when you refused him.

“So you guys are gonna take care of the bodies, right…? I can deal with one or two, but this is a bit much.”

The last soldier, the one you didn’t hear from yet, a pretty man with dark skin that Soap would later introduce as Gaz, assured you that they would handle it.

Transferring your attention back to Johnny, you noticed a trace of guilt in those ocean eyes of his, as he was staring at you.

“Something wrong?”

“Ye not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” you frowned.

“It's mah fault if those bastards took ye.”

“Oh, Johnny…” you sighed wistfully, cupping his face. “I knew what the risks were when I chose to date a soldier. Plus, there will always be a chance that my past catches up to me. I was pretty fucking mad when I got a hood shoved on my head and my arms twisted behind my back before getting hauled away in the middle of the fucking night, but not at you.”

Once they gathered all the intel they needed and dragged away the only survivor, the team and you left the building. Your testimony was required for the mission report, so you accompanied them without protest, longing for the care that would be provided by their medical facility.

As you were walking to their vehicule, hand in hand with Soap, you noted how he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

His cerulean eyes kept greedily roaming all over you, like you were a vision so dream-like it was making him doubt your reality, like you would vanish the second he stopped contemplating you.

“Yer one badass lass, y'know that? ‘M so proud o’ ye. Proud tae be yers.”

A/N: Ghost's "grunts that Johnny knew meant “I disagree but it's not worth debating you about it.” " is based on my grandma 💀

[rileyslibrary]

Ghost helps Riot decorate the Christmas tree at the base.

Fluff. A gift for my friend, @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot with her OC, Christine “Riot” Vega. (Awesome render here!)

———————————————————————

“It’s too tall.”

“Or, maybe you’re too short.”

Riot shifts her gaze from the Christmas tree to Ghost. He doesn’t regard her back, yet she knows there’s a smile underneath that mask—one of those triumphant, snarky, arrogant, ‘i-got-her-again’ grins.

“Behave, Lieutenant,” she warns. “I’m 1.70, in case you didn’t read my file.”

“Congratulations to the whole 1.70 of you,” he replies and playfully pats her head. “With or without the shoes?”

Riot rolls her eyes and swats his hand away. “Can you just get me the ornament boxes from the warehouse?” She asks.

“You have to be more specific, love,” He says. “The warehouse is a two thousand square meter void filled with cardboard boxes.”

“I don’t have the coordinates, Ghost.” She replies, smirking. “You can ask Gaz whether he planted a GPS tracker in them or, here’s a better idea: how about you search for the boxes labelled as ‘Xmas’?”

Now, he’s the one rolling his eyes. He murmurs a “how unique” and walks to the door to fulfil her request.

While waiting for Ghost to find and retrieve the boxes, Riot tests the new Christmas lights they bought by plugging them into the socket. Once she confirms they work, she starts wrapping them around the tree. Although the task appears to be assigned to just the two of them, it took all five—including the captain who gave the roles—to make it happen.

Gaz chose the tree and bought extra ornaments, then Soap measured its dimensions, ensuring enough lights to cover it. Once aligned, they raked the entire base to decide on the perfect spot. Their prerequisites? It had to be a place where everyone could see it and would do it justice. Unfortunately, they couldn’t agree on a specific location, so they met in the middle and decided to place the tree in the mess hall, the exact same spot it was last year. And the year before it. And the year before it.

Then, it was up to Ghost to carry the tree, and the captain instructed him to help Riot with the “heavy-duty” tasks. Now, all that’s left is for Riot to decorate it.

“I still don’t get why you get to decorate.” Ghost says, placing the boxes on the floor. “Why are we doing chores like measuring and carrying boxes while you get the fun stuff?”

“Because whoever did it last year did a terrible job,” she retorts, emphasising ‘whoever’ and handing Ghost a light strip to continue up to the top. “You guys didn’t even shuffle the decorations. Not to mention that the back was empty.”

“Nobody sees the back,” Ghost argues.

“You don’t?” Riot smirks.

“Nobody sees the back of the tree,” Ghost corrects.

“Well, I do,” she replies, pointing at the top of the tree, “and go a little bit lower over there.”

“Like that?” he asks.

“Like that,” she confirms.

After finishing the light placement, Ghost sits on the sofa. He takes an ornament shaped like a candy cane from one of the boxes and starts playing with it. Riot, on the other hand, gets straight to the job. She opens the boxes and grabs two ornaments. She places one on the tree, removes it and tries the other. She concludes on the latter. She turns around to search the boxes for more ornaments and catches Ghost fiddling with the candy cane.

“You can go if you’re bored,” she says. “I won’t finish anytime soon.”

“That I figured,” he murmurs under his breath, making Riot instinctively place her hands on her waist. He lets a sharp chuckle and shakes his head. “I’m alright here.” He assures her.

But of course, where else would he be alright if not here?

Time passes quickly. Ghost and Riot reminisce about their past Christmases—childhood festivities, memorable Boxing Day gifts, favourite holiday foods, and the annual movies that defined each season. Yet, these beautiful memories end at a certain point unique to each. Maybe those memories have faded away, or perhaps they have purposefully chosen to let them go. And when that happens, when they approach that personal boundary, they stop dwelling on those past celebrations and turn to each other, to the present, to fill them with joy.

Sometimes, Riot shows Ghost different ornaments, and he either picks one or dismisses the options with a casual “whatever” or “there’s no difference.” Other times, Ghost critiques her progress, giving feedback while she decorates. He points out areas needing more attention or playfully suggests she’s gone overboard elsewhere. In return, Riot replies with a firm yet joking, “Go on; you do it then”, and shuts him up.

She lifts one final piece into the air and shows it to Ghost—the Christmas tree topper.

“Seems that I’m too short to reach the top,” she pouts.

“Nonsense,” he whispers and stands up. “It’s the tree that’s too tall.”

He walks towards her, grabs her waist, and lifts her up.

“Now I get why the captain assigned me for the heavy-duty stuff,” he says.

“Drop me, and I’ll stick you up there instead of the topper.” She warns him, chuckling. “Take one more step forward, please.”

Ghost does as told, and Riot places the topper at the top. She adjusts it and lightly taps Ghost’s hand to put her down. They take a few steps back and marvel at the result.

“What do you think?” Riot asks, still looking at the tree.

“Seems alright.” Ghost shrugs. “Should we turn the lights on?”

“No,” Riot replies. “I want all of them to be here when we do it.”

He turns to look at her and nods. She meets his gaze and smiles.

“Thank you for lifting me up.” She says.

“No,” he replies. “Thank you for lifting me up.”

———————————————————————

[tanked-up]

Ghost storming inside Price’s office: No money for a seperate room, Capt’n!?

Price: Oh God here we go

Soap storms afterwards: Seriously! Ye’ want me killed? I ain’t sleeping with him

Ghost: I rather sleep outside where rats and lizards crawl all over me

Soap scoffs: That’s a bit harsh, ain’t it?

Ghost: No, it isn’t. Change the room or I’ll riot

Price: Go ahead and riot

Ghost: I will! Just you wait

————————————————————————————

(The morning after)

Gaz: Bet ya twenty bucks, Ghost took the top bunk and squished Soap on bottom

Price scoffs: Bet you fifty, Ghost slept on the floo-

Gaz: Oh My God.

Price: Are they… cuddling!?

Gaz: Should we…

Price: No, just… leave them be

(They leave)

Gaz: So… are we gonna tell them about it, or…

Price: Ghost will have our heads dangling off his door as decoration if we do

[harveywritings92]

[R/n sends a pic of herself sitting under a restaurant table eating pizza.]

🧼Soap🧼: Lol. Why are you eating it on the floor???

{Then everyone started to notice what was happening outside via the large window she sitting against]

⚽Gaz🏏, referring to a scene outside: Wait...is, is that a SWAT team?

🍺Price🎣, noticing the Swats are throwing cans: Are they throwing tear gas?

💀Ghost🖤: ARE YOU EATING PIZZA IN A MIDDLE OF A FUCKING RIOT?!

🏍R/n🕶: Of course not.... The bank next door is just being robbed.

[This caused everyone to freak out even more, of course unbeknownst to them and the cops, R/n already dealt with the robbers. (Her Kamen Rider powers are like Kabuto’s, she can move faster than the human eye can see.)]