AbsoluteTrash211



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    The cop turned to the woman with a roll of his eyes. “Which delinquent do you want first?”

    “They are children, Officer Wright, not delinquents.” She stated, calm and collected despite the hour.

    “Which child would you like to speak with first,” the cop tried again with a bite of frustration to his words. “The one that put four men in the hospital with his fists, or the one that put two men in hospital with a gun?”

    The woman remained un-ruffled, turning her gaze on the cop for only a moment. “But it wasn’t his gun, was it?”

    The cop decided to shut his mouth after that, gesturing to the pair of them instead and waiting for her decision.

    “I’d like to speak with Mr Doe first.” She said, her eyes settling on Nathaniel.

    Andrews head snapped up, anger flitting over his features before quickly being filed away again. When Nathaniel made no move to stand, he nudged him with his elbow. “I haven’t been Doe since my last stint at Juvie.” He stated, keeping his attention fixed to Nathaniel now. “I guess that means they’re referring to you this time.”

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    23 Dec 2024

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    Following a row of circumstances that might or might not be Soaps own fault (they totally are), his family now thinks him and Ghost are dating and expect him to bring this boyfriend of his along to his cousins wedding.
    So really what other option is there than to bother Ghost into coming along to Scotland with him and pretend to be his boyfriend? Not like his crush could get any worse, right? (wrong)

    **

    Soap opened his mouth again and rushed it all out in one single breath. “Ineedyetobemyfakeboyfriendforthenextfewdays.”
    Ghost blinked at him slowly. “The fuck you just said?"

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    10 Dec 2024

  3. Public Bookmark 73

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    “I have.. a word of advice,” Gaz says, slowing his walk. Oddly careful. Soap squints in suspicion. “Just a small piece. Tiny. Minuscule. Would do you a favor.”

    Or: Soap is pining. Gaz believes himself to be a great wingman.

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    25 Oct 2024

  4. Public Bookmark 21

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    For a second, Ronan thinks he’s about to watch a patented Gansey bomb defusal. He’s apologized for Ronan enough times; he could probably do it in his sleep by now.

    Gansey draws himself up. His face is hard.

    Ronan’s mouth floods even before his brain has time to translate.

    ——

    Gansey gives a verbal lashing at one of his mother’s events, with Ronan in attendance.

    This sort of thing made Ronan ache in high school, all rootless want with no outlet for it, often no idea what he was aching for in the first place.

    They’re not in high school anymore.

    Ronan knows what it makes him want to do, now.

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    25 Oct 2024

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    “Not old.” A scar ran down the side of Ghost’s face, perpendicular to the cut of his jawline, and it shifted as he spoke, “Younger than Price.”

    “Really?” Soap’s stool scraped across the floor as he tugged it closer. Far too close for two grown, military sculpted men to be to each other but Soap had had at least two tequila shots even before he’d started on his next drinks, so it felt like nothing at all to be able to smell that Ghost was clean. No blood. No dirt. Clean, washed skin underneath his clothes and mask, “I mean, that wee glance you gave us of your mug back before the raid wasn’t much to go on.”

    “Thought you might have gone rifling through my file.”

    -----

    Or: Ghost and Soap are the last ones left in the bar after the final MW2 mission, knees touching, and Soap can't help himself. Can't stop the little, needling shit that lives in the back of his head and cajoles him into pushing himself into Ghost's vision. 'Just a snog, sir. We don't have to tell.' Except, it's not really that easy, is it?

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    23 Oct 2024