#that's my future captain right there

[ikram1909]

Gavi taking a minute to celebrate with Felix for that beautiful assist 🥺

[b4kuch1n]

polymer broadcast signal hijack

[quillheel]

// we still have no wifi (and brains kinda struggling with Writing here bc of the file loss of '24 where i lost ALL my files, including icons - im very lucky i had another copy of my border), but when I come back and start adding Pe.rsona 3 muses it's over for y'all.

[spongynova]

NSFW mcspirk month - 22 - mirrorverse

Do you want some fem mirror? Because I do. I'm obsessed by Spock wearing a mullet, because this Vulcan is so deep in the queer haircut pipeline and we know it's the next stage!

Full version on AO3 & Pillowfort

@mcspirkevents

[dimension-20-every-introduction]

Everyone Introduced in Dimension 20′s A Court of Fey and Flowers episode 4

[rexxdjarin]

Me to me: stop thinking about Rex you’re on vacation in Florence

Also me to me: Rex

[tiger-balm]

I know the game ended a while ago but I'm so proud of minty, they clearly have a lot of trust in him and his abilities, he's out there on the powerplay, the penalty kill, and he started overtime for them.

[sayheykid]

i love zegras as much as the next guy but i truly think that mason mctavish is the most interesting young talent on the ducks right now. mark my words, within the next five years we will see him get an A, and he will become captain within his career

[whump-captain]

No. 6 - Proof of life

Ransom video | "I've got a pulse." | Screams from across the hall

OC: Kintsugi

another one of kinda just character stuff and once again i hope it makes sense lol. it's late and im ill so im just glad i finished it tbh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

---

CN: swearing, past torture mentions, implied long term captivity

---

The door behind Lucy's back was heavy and its latch was undone. As she leaned against it, cold seeped from the metal through her thick tactical vest and reached deep into her body and mind. 

She held her hand loose on the stock of her rifle, even though there was nothing to guard at the moment. They had dragged the prisoner out a while ago and before they pulled the bag over his head, Lucy had caught a glimpse of his terrified gaze. 

His name was Ethan Lythmer and he was a meteorologist. Of that Lucy was sure, because he had repeated those words over and over as his only answer to captain Linde's increasingly inane questions. Poor idiot, she thought, he'd be better off making up some story that he could pretend to give up under interrogation. Linde would get his ego boost, stage a court martial, and then hand over his prey to Response Group Memory brass - and that would be the end of it. The lie would come out in the end, but maybe at least somewhere far away from Linde's self-congratulatory barbarism.

But Lythmer insisted on the truth, day in and day out, through every beating and drugging. And so Linde's injured pride stoked itself higher and higher, and the pointless cycle continued. Nothing was achieved apart from the perpetuation of violence and delusion. 

But none of that was Lucy's business. Her business was to guard the door and to restrain herself from calling Linde a wanker to his face. Sometimes there were errands; sometimes there were more wankers. Day in and day out, as time trickled away and everything outside of the present moment blurred into a white noise of irrelevance. 

She let the numbing buzz fill her thoughts and erase everything but the cold behind her back. 

Then a scream cut through the air like an icepick. Lucy flinched. Slapped back to reality, she shook her head off and straightened her spine. The scream continued, rising and falling in a wail of pain and desperation, until finally it abruptly stopped. Quieter, almost completely muffled by concrete and distance, breathless, ragged groans filled the silence in its wake. 

Lucy tried to let the cold numb her again, but the present remained acutely sharp around her. Another scream came, through so many walls and doors that she couldn't tell where it came from. Not too far, she would wager. No use dragging a prisoner further than necessary. 

Silence fell once more and this time completely. But she could imagine the rest. The dull thud of a body hitting the ground. Linde's smooth voice which he never raised, composed through question after question. Desperate gasps for air, barely contained sobs. The clink of glasses on the bloodied floor. 

Lucy's hand tightened on the rifle and she chased the memory away. She lucked out with guard duty; she didn't have to watch Linde mentally jerk himself off with his authority today. It wasn't her arms lifting up a lifeless body to hold it upright for another punch. 

She leaned back and felt a stab of cold from behind her. She grimaced and shook her head at her own thoughts. When had she become so soft? That was part of her job, too - and one that she was very good at. She'd had practice. She had gained respect because she had made it known that she would not be held back by fear or sentiment. She had been ruthless and ruthlessness was a strength.

But the thing about strength was that if it was questioned, it dissipated. And those who were weak would be left to die in the cold haze of numb, irrelevant days. 

The air carried a cry of agony and Lucy forced herself to listen to it like music, interpreting the pleas and confessions contained in this wordless howl. Pointedly, she wondered what Linde's men were doing to their prisoner today. They weren't beating him; the screams wouldn't be as long. Not suffocating him either since that would strangle his voice entirely. Maybe they broke his other arm; or mangled the existing fracture even further. Lucy grimaced at the thought of how badly - if ever - that injury would heal. But she held that thought and dared herself to relish it. With the feeling of cold on her back, she let her violent memories flood in and scored the past with the sounds of the present. 

When a door scraped open somewhere in the distance, she was numb again. Impassively, she watched two of her colleagues drag forward the limp form of Ethan Lythmer, his face hidden behind blood-matted hair. A step before them marched captain Linde, wiping his hands on a clean towel. 

"Richardson," he said with a firm nod.

"What d'you want?" she answered. 

"Watch your tone. I have a job for you."

"I'm minding the door now." She pointed with her thumb. Linde's mouth twitched in a very satisfying grimace of annoyance. 

"Diaz will relieve you," he said, indicating one of the men behind him. "Make sure the spy is fit for further questioning by tomorrow."

Lucy scoffed. "And how do you want me to do that?" She looked Lythmer up and down, took in his ashen grey skin and clothes almost black with his own blood. She still couldn't tell what they'd done to him but he looked beyond the help of simple first aid. 

"Figure it out," Linde answered smoothly but with force. "The medical wing knows to expect you, they will provide the supplies needed. Questions?" 

Lucy considered getting in an argument. But it was going to be a long evening already. "No," she said. 

"Good. Carry on." 

Folding away his towel, Linde walked away into the depths of the complex. Lucy looked at Diaz and he gave a small shrug before making to move past her towards the door. She stepped aside and the grind of heavy metal shifting filled the whole corridor. 

"You need a hand with the meds?" Diaz asked, helping the other man carry the unconscious prisoner back into his cell. Lucy's eyes followed the trail of crimson drops on the floor, all the way to where they became a single, wide smudge leading back into the dark. She shook her head. 

Slinging her rifle onto her back, she walked away too into the silent cold. 

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

I am officially begging for someone good at making gifsets to make one with Anakin and the poetry quote, "I am the master of my fate, / I am the captain of my soul" and Obi-Wan with the line "Oh Captain, my Captain"

[soulsolid-a]

     Thinking about the fragile relationship between humanity and reality Brook constantly feels because he both clings onto his perception of humanity while knowing despite his denial that he will never be the human he once was again. Even beyond the physical aspects  ( not strictly needing to sleep or eat, not feeling cold or warmth beyond psychological reasons, having different perceptions of pain and so forth )  he’s forgotten so much during his 50 years isolated. Music has preserved him, but there was only so much it could save.

      And he’s learned to come to terms with it. He’s a skeleton, he’s the Soul King, but most importantly, he’s the Straw Hat’s musician. For Luffy, for his crew, he would do anything. Be anything. He doesn’t fully know who he is, and that’s okay, because he knows he’s Luffy’s, and that’s all he needs in the end. 

[abrushwithdeath]

[daydreamerdrew]

Tales of Suspense (1959) #77

[shotmrmiller]

cbf!johnny def the, if you still single by 32 we'll get married but then literally interferes with every date you think about having, tells them to block your number or end up on the back of a milk carton, and spends most of his time back home with you.

when away, he calls every morning and night, if able. video chats too. your parents couldn't care less because he's got a golden cross dangling around his neck and says grace before every meal.

good lad, he'd be a welcome addition to the family.

the worst because then he'd turn his big ol puppy eyes to you like, the captain's havin' a bairn and how it'd be nice to have my own little family to come home to, that he isn't getting any younger and you know he means nothing by it but it stings because are you not good enough?

you don't really want any kids, they're not a part of your future but the thought of your best friend, the one you've known since you were a kindergartener getting a wife or husband, and leaving you behind has envy, slow and cruel, crawling up your spine and settling in the back of your skull.

there's never been anything truly inappropriate between the both of you (you don't know that the way he holds you in his lap when in public or wrapping a thick arm around your soft waist is anything but friendly) so you find yourself at a loss for words.

until he keeps sending ultrasounds of the fetus, one after the other and how tender his voice sounds as he gushes over it.

i'd give you a baby, if you want. nothing better than creating a family with my best friend right? only for him to quickly tell you that children out of wedlock is completely out of question.

well, the cute one with the pretty lips and UK cap already calls you johnny's missus so what's the harm in that?

when johnny passes the phone over to the guys, you ask price how his wife is.

what wife?

(i need johnny to give him a swift jab to the ribs, where price is like HURGK i mean she's great. doing wonderful.)

[st-el-la-luna]

Task Force 141 x Reader: Picture Day

NSFW 18+

When a guy keeps sending you unsolicited pictures, you impulsively reach out to your Task Force for help in an... Unconventional way.

→ harassment, non con receiving of nudes, asking for nudes, sending of nudes

You don't want to do this. Really, it's not ideal. It's rash, and impulsive and, oh, right, insanely fucking stupid.

But, you're a spiteful person at heart. And, well, this would be the perfect response...

So, you open the Task Force group chat, type up a message and press send before you can stop yourself.

CorvidCorporal: hey guys

CorvidCorporal: can I ask a favour?

You don't have to wait long for a reply.

Captain Price: What is it, Corporal?

Ghost: No

DontDropthe: you know where to find me 😉

Gazoline: everything okay?

You sigh, type up another message, worrying your lip between your teeth.

CorvidCorporal: it's nothing serious

CorvidCorporal: just... weird

Captain Price: What is it?

Gazoline: weird how?

You bury your face in your hands for a moment, considering if you're really about to do this. Your phone buzzes again, a notification from a different chat. You open it and holy shit, another one? Hell no. You're going through with this.

You head back to the Task Force group chat.

DontDropthe: weird is my specialty

You can't believe you're doing this.

You type and retype the message a couple of times before eventually just pressing send. You shut your phone off, face burning, not wanting to think about what you just did.

CorvidCorporal: I need a dick pic

The little markers on the bottom of the screen indicating people are typing vanish then start up again. Vanish. Start up again. Vanish.

Oh, you're fucked.

What the hell were you thinking?! These were your coworkers! Your superiors! Your boss!

You scramble to explain yourself.

CorvidCorporal: forget I said anything!

CorvidCorporal: it's just this guy keeps sending me them unsolicited from different accounts because I keep blocking his ass

CorvidCorporal: I figured the best way to get him to stop would be to send one back

CorvidCorporal: you know a real power move

CorvidCorporal: just really blindside em

CorvidCorporal: but well... I lack the parts and if I were just to go to google the guy could easily figure that shit out

CorvidCorporal: it was stupid and impulsive and I'm so sorry I asked

CorvidCorporal: please don't fire me I need this job

CorvidCorporal: guys?

The entire chat is dead. But their icons show that each and everyone of them is still active. Even Ghost.

You curse yourself internally and knock your head against the wall. You shut your phone off and toss it away. Too overwhelming. Too much. You can't... Why did you do that?!

You sit on the foot of your bunk and mourn your career, face in your hands. Dishonorable discharge no doubt in your future... You're such an idiot!

Your phone buzzes from across the room. You ignore it.

Except it buzzes again. And again. And again. And–

By the seventh text tone you go to pick it up, almost feeling sick from the nasty knot of anxiety and dread in your gut.

You open the group chat.

You close the group chat.

Holy shit.

DontDropthe: see attachment

DontDropthe: see attachment

DontDropthe: see attachment

Gazoline: jesus christ soap

Gazoline: see (2) attachments

DontDropthe: see (3) attachments

Fif– sixteen pictures. Two from Gaz and fourteen from Soap.

Holy shit.

Your phone goes off again.

Captain Price: Let me know if you need anything else, Corporal

Captain Price: see (3) attachments

What the fuck?

Soap has moved on to sending you pictures directly. You dismiss a call from him in a blind panic. He immediately sends a video.

You type into the group chat with shaking hands.

CorvidCorporal: thanks

Gazoline: anytime

DontDropthe: it's only fair if you send them back

DontDropthe: i understand if your shy

DontDropthe: my doors unlocked

Captain Price: *you're

In the end, you got more than enough material to choose from.

Three from Price. Seven from Gaz. A whopping twenty nine from Soap.

You're still deciding on what picture to send (and on calming your racing heart and ignoring the growing heat between your thighs) when your phone goes off again.

Ghost: see attachment

Please reblog to support my writing!

Comment to motivate!

masterlist!

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: none yet

Part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

———————

“John Price, military captain, heavily decorated, and unmarried.” you read off of a printed sheet of paper. He’s the third person you’ve seen today that wants to rent the room available. You were praying this one would be a success. You weren’t looking to house the married couples or the rowdy in love teenagers you’d seen earlier on today.

“Yes ma’am that is me.” He says looking down at you, not metaphorically but physically he’s inches above you. You’re far younger than he imagined, beautiful and so awfully well spoken that he’d assumed you’d be either his age or older.

“If this is your job and you’re not married and don't have kids I’m sure you get paid well. Why do you need a roommate?” You say hoping you don’t sound rude but with a job like that this man could afford much better.

“I’m not home much and basically live on base but for the times I do briefly return home id like it to be in a place like your home, beautiful, deserted, quiet.” The last few places he stayed in were apartments and he wanted to settle into something he actually cared to return to, not just someplace that could hold some belongings.

“Well then Mr.Price let me show you the rooms and house, follow me.” You lead him into your home through the halls and the living room simply showing him around making small talk about your job and hobbies.

“If you don’t mind me asking why is it you need a roommate?” He later returns the question, you halt in your tracks and stand still for a second making John hope he hadn’t overstepped.

“I was in a long term relationship that ended two years ago and when we broke up he left me the house or I technically demanded I keep it and um bills have been hard to keep up with.” You Look him in the eyes and smile softly, relieving him of the anxious feeling he’s holding.

“Sorry for asking.” He sincerely apologizes.

“Don’t worry about it, I think it's better you did because this will lead us to the next thing.” You reassure him and continue walking through a pair of French doors.

“This will be your office, I’m sorry about the boxes, they're a little too heavy for me to carry through this house and throw away.” You point to a fair amount of them pushed into a corner.

“No, don't worry about it, I'll get them out.” He replies kindly.

“And then right through here would be your bedroom.” It's exactly to the right of his office, a huge room which must be the master. He wonders if this had been the room you shared with your ex and by the look that covers your gorgeous features, he’s right.

“It has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet. If you want to live here, I’d like the home to be treated as if we both own it, not like you just rent a room, especially for the price.” You explain and truly that is your hope. He’s the perfect tenant and on his submission form he’s looking for a long term place which would mean less worry about the future bills on your behalf.

“When can I start moving in?” He turns to look in your hopeful eyes.

“Immediately if you want it of course.” You say with excitement. The mortgage payments have been a burden and this was a huge relief.

“Is it okay if I have some of my mates help me take these boxes out?” You nod enthusiastically with a quiet

‘of course’.

“I'll be back here early in the morning, Thankyou for inviting me into your home.” He says turning to make way back down the path you took to the room.

“Thankyou Mr.Price.” You offer your hand as a settlement.

“Call me John please.” He shakes it politely.

“I'll see you tomorrow john.” You say walking him to the door and bidding him a goodbye.

—————-

“Be honest captain, is she cute?” John had the unfortunate situation of having to haul soap with him in his car while the two other men drove the moving truck that he only rented to get rid of the boxes you had.

“She’s nearly a decade younger than me.” He answers hoping that’ll lay it to rest.

‘That doesn’t answer my question.” Soap never chooses peace.

“Yeah she’s stunning.” And really you were.

—————————-

“Hi good morning, come in.” You say opening the door letting the cold air sweep into your warm home. Eyeing the huge men that stood in the doorway.

“Good morning this is soap, gaz, and that's ghost if you couldn’t tell. This is my task force and certainly my best mates.” John replies quickly giving them an introduction.

“Nice to meet you all.” You say trying your hardest to not sound intimidated.

“And you as well, gorgeous.” Soap says gripping your small hand in his own.

“He’s a flirt, don't worry about him.” Gaz says, shaking your hand next.

“Nice to meet you.” Ghost offers you his gloved hand giving you the softest handshake he thinks he’s ever given in his life.

“Well you boys can get too it there is pastries on the counter and drinks in the fridge if you need anything i'll be in my room that’s down this hall.” You say smiling at all of them then reaching into the pocket on your paint stained overalls fishing out a pair of keys.

“Oh and before I can forget John these are yours, this one is too your office and bedroom door and this one is too the house door.” You say handing them over on the pink keychain you’ve kept them on all this time.

“Thank you.” He says before you walk away.

————————

“That little lady does not know how to pack these. They are insanely heavy, how'd she ever expect to get them out.” Soap says picking up a box from the office room that’s filled with papers.

“I don’t think that was her main concern.” John says as he also picks one up walking them outside and into the U-Haul he rented.

“She’s a true stunner though, how will John Price be able to resist?” He teases his captain.

“I’m with soap on that one.” Ghost surprisingly grumbles throwing a box down on the gravel.

“Should’ve seen the way she was looking at you captain.” Gaz enters this pointless conversation out of breath gently setting down more boxes.

“I actually think you're the only one here whose age is appropriate for her gaz.” Gaz makes a sound of disagreement.

“Captain 8 years isn’t what you’re making it seem, don't you remember when soap had a girlfriend like 13 years older than him.” The memory flashes through all their minds and ghost has to keep himself from giggling.

“And don’t you remember how it ended.” It was ugly, soap found that when time passes people get older and being 37 with a 50 year old wasn’t what he thought it’d be.

“All I’m saying is I think some romance with a pretty lady like that could do you some good. I mean your living in a home together tension will get to you at some point.” John rolls his shoulders back and sighs.

“Shut up and get back to work, all of you.” The captain says demanding as they all hurry back inside.

But what if?

——————-

“Wow, I don't know when’s the last time I've seen these rooms empty.” You say walking into the office.

“Was it all his?” John says giving you a one up at the change in clothes. You're wearing your pajamas which consist of shorts and a big shirt.

“Yeah it was, when will you be bringing in your own stuff?” You reply quickly changing the topic.

“I actually have all my stuff in my truck, only three boxes, I’m not a man of many possessions.” He laughs Gruffly swiping a hand over his mouth.

“I have clean sheets in my closet if you’ll be needing some.” You offer politely.

“Please.” He says and you nod, turning to go get them.

“I’ll just be bringing in the rest of my belongings.” He says walking down the opposite end of the hallway.

He brings the boxes in one by one, setting them in the office not paying mind to where you could have gone till he brings the last one in and hears you humming in the bedroom putting what were to be his pillows inside pillow cases.

“Oh love you didn’t have too. I've been making my own bed on base for longer than my memory goes back.” His deep voice slightly startles you.

“Sorry, it's just a habit.” You apologize softly and he wonders if it came off the wrong way.

“No, Thankyou is what I really mean.” He says slightly smiling at the floral print sheets that now adorn his bed.

“Sorry these are actually the least feminine looking ones I have.” You smile realizing how silly it looks for a man as manly as the one who stands before you to have blue and pink flower sheets.

“No worries love.” He nods to you.

“Well I'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You say giving him a small pat on the shoulder and leaving to what he could only assume to be your bedroom.

He got changed for the night, ready to settle into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillows the scent of lavender and a perfume that had to solely be you was invading his senses. Something so feminine and warm and good, god was it good. He turned his head slightly more into the pillow taking a deep breath in and out enjoying it. The more he focused on it the easier the sleep had come and before he knew it he was sleeping like a bear in hibernation.

—————————————-

I’m ready for a new story.

Comments and reposts and greatly appreciated<3

If anyone has thoughts or ideas on how this should go please send them in.