Proxy Twitter Au Part 2

Run To You.

How would your boys react to you tapping them out after months of being apart from one another?

Characters Included - Task Force 141, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, König

Warnings - None.

Total Word Count - 2.6k

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Word Count - 0.3k

The moment that your arms extend to wrap around him, he pulls you into a bone-crushing embrace, lifting you from your place on the ground and holding you against him. Your face buries into his shoulder, tears falling from your eyes as a light laugh tumbles from your parted lips. Your legs work to wrap over his waist, pulling yourself impossibly closer to him. 

You can feel Simon begin to shake against you the longer that he holds you in his arms, no doubt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of relief and comfort he felt in your presence. You had had that effect on him for as long as you had been part of his life, calming any raging storm with something as simple as a touch against his shoulder. 

And now, in a moment when he believed that he’d be standing until his legs gave out, there you were. He had noticed you almost immediately upon your arrival, heart swelling as your eyes darted through the rows of soldiers, eyebrows knit together in concentration as you searched for him. The minute that your eyes caught sight of him, your lips turned upward in a teary smile, feet carrying you to his direction at such a speed he was worried you might accidentally barrel into him. 

Simon doesn’t bother to contain his smile as you shift in his arms, pulling back just enough to make eye contact with him. You tearfully smile down at him, your hands cupping either side of his masked face, thumbs stroking against the familiar skull pattern as he gazes so lovingly up at you. 

“Hi,” you finally manage to whisper, your lips still turned upward in that smile that Simon adored. He returns it, the crinkle in his eyes being the indicator that he was smiling just as softly back at you. His arms squeeze around your waist, hand supporting you from below to keep you against him for however long he wanted. 

“Hi,” he returns, his eyes momentarily closing as your forehead presses against his. Your hands still gently hold the sides of his face, a content breath falling from your nose as you both enjoy the other’s presence. Simon can feel his chest warm as he feels your thumbs continue to stroke his face. In that moment, he’s home.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Word Count - 0.3k

He can’t help but choke up as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him against you and letting out a teary laugh into his shoulder. Of course, he’s swift in returning your embrace, nearly knocking you over as he all but collapses into you. He truly doesn’t care who sees; he cries into you, tears dripping onto your hair as he presses his cheek against your head. All he cares about is the fact that you’re there.

Johnny pulls away from you after a minute of holding you, his hands lifting to tenderly hold the sides of your face. He steers your face towards his own, slotting his lips against your own. He doesn’t care about the taste of your tears against his lips, or how you try to hold back your sobs as he kisses you. 

He pulls away only when the need to breathe becomes too strong for the both of you, his hands still holding your face as you tearfully smile at him. “God, I missed you,” he breathes out, smiling at you as you lift your hands to mimic his actions, the both of you standing with your hands on the other’s face. 

You bite back the sobs as they rise in your throat, remembering the months that you’d spent practically wasting away in your apartment, simply waiting for Johnny to return home to you. But those months mean nothing to you now, not when he was standing in front of you.

“I missed you more,” you say finally, reaching out to wrap your arms around Johnny again, laughing to yourself as he grunts at the tight embrace. But the tightness of your hug only emulates the love that you hold for him. How no matter what, you would be there for him should he need it. Johnny would forever be thankful for you, and would forever be with you.

Even if forever came in the form of his rusted dog tags. 

Captain John Price

Word Count - 0.3k

The minute that his eyes land on you weaving your way through the crowd is when he can feel his tears burning the backs of his eyes, blurring his gaze. He tries his hardest to keep them at bay as you draw closer, but he’s unable to hold himself together for much longer when your arms wrap around him, squeezing at him as you cry lightly into his chest. 

“Hi lovie,” he whispers into your hair, lifting you from your place on the ground, his arms locked around your waist to support you. You don’t answer him immediately, opting instead to soak in the warmth from the embrace that you had been missing for the past six months. His lips against your head comfort you and soothe the thoughts that had been thinking the worst.

He squeezes you just before you pull away from his embrace, your arms still around his neck with his wrapped over your waist. “Hi,” you finally manage to whisper in response, sniffling as his one of his hands comes to cup the side of your face, his thumb catching the tears that fall from your eyes. 

Price gazes down at you in his arms, his heart swelling as you nuzzle into the palm of his hand, the warmth of his touch something that you had been craving for half a year. Your eyes flicker to meet his gaze again, and just like before, a teary smile works its way onto your face. 

“Thank God you’re home,” you mutter, lips trembling as you fight to hold back your sobs. Price smiles again, his own eyes tearing up at your words. He understands how hard it was to be away, for both himself and for you. He leans down, kissing your forehead tenderly. Price smiles to himself as he feels you relax at the affectionate gesture. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere for a while, I promise you,” he says, tugging you back into his arms and squeezing at you as if you would disappear. You smile against his chest, relaxing in his arms, not caring as the rest of the world fades out, leaving only you and Price. 

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Word Count - 0.4k

As soon as your skin lightly grazes his, he crushes you to his chest, one hand holding the back of your head while the other holds your waist, gripping at you as if you would disappear should his grip falter. His lips tremble as he fights to hold back the rising sobs in his throat, eyes screwing shut as you squeeze just as tightly at him. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair, his voice wavering between words as you press your face into his chest. You know what he’s thanking you for, you know that he hadn’t expected you to come and find him, to seek him out. To say that he wasn’t used to being loved was an understatement, and with each passing day, you made sure that Kyle knew just how much he meant to you.

You had made it a point to sprint through the crowd in search for him, legs moving of their own accord as your eyes desperately searched the rows of soldiers being tapped out by their friends and family. Relief flooded your senses as you noticed Kyle, his arms folded behind his back and his face a mask of no emotion. But at the sight of you, you noticed the twinkle of tears in his eyes. 

“God, it’s so good to have you home.” Your words tug at his heartstrings, and he’s suddenly reminded of just how long it had been since he held you in his arms. Eight months. Eight months of video calls, of text messages, of only being able to communicate when it was safest for the both of you. Eight months made completely worth it by holding you as tightly as he wants to. 

You remain in his arms for however long he needs, however long it takes him to fully register that you’re standing in front of him and aren’t some figment of his imagination. When he does pull back from you, it’s to admire you, even if you have tears rolling down your cheeks. “It’s good to be home,” he agrees, smiling to both himself and you as you pull his face to yours, lips pressing firmly against his own. 

You kissing him reminds him that he’s loved, that his absence from home affects somebody, that there’s someone waiting for him to even return home. He doesn’t want you to pull away from him, even if that thought would result in the both of you passing out from lack of air. 

Kyle is just overjoyed that you’re here, that you came even when he didn’t call. “I love you,” he mumbles to you, so lovesick that it makes your chest warm. 

“I love you more.”

Alejandro Vargas

Word Count - 0.3k

In your arms, he immediately relaxes, his arms wrapping so gently around you so that he doesn’t accidentally hurt you. He kisses your temple, then leaning his cheek against the side of your head and swaying your bodies back and forth, holding back his own cries as you sniffle into his chest. 

“I’m here mi amor, it’s alright,” he coos into your ear, feeling your arms squeeze at him as he continues rocking his weight from one foot to the other, hoping that the rocking would comfort you. His chest tightens as he feels your tears staining his shirt, no doubt leaving behind a wet patch, but that doesn’t matter to him. 

You’re quiet as you stand in his arms, your nails biting into his back as relief floods your senses. The danger level of this particular mission was more than you were able to handle, but you were still able to find Alejandro amongst the crowd. You had sprinted to him, nearly tripping over your own two feet before you jumped at him, locking your arms around his neck and pressing your face into his shoulder. 

“Missed you,” you mumble into him, exhaling shakily as you shift in his embrace, remaining in his arms and gazing up at him through teary eyes. He smiles down at you, catching your tears with his thumb as he leans down to press a featherlight kiss against your cheek. 

“I missed you more,” he responds, chuckling breathily as you hold either side of his face, bringing him down into a kiss. He can taste your tears on his lips, but that’s the least of his concerns. What matters now is the familiar warmth that your kiss brings him, a telltale reminder that he had made it home, he had made it back to you. 

He pulls back from you, smiling as he notices your eyes still closed. His forehead leans affectionately against yours, the tip of your nose brushing with his as he momentarily forgets where he is. Even then, it doesn’t matter. He’s with you, that’s what matters. 

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Word Count - 0.3k

He’s unable to hold back his tears as you cling to him, almost immediately crying into you as he lifts you off of the ground, curling you into him and pressing kisses against your hairline. He doesn’t care who sees him, he doesn’t care about the eyes that may wander. You were standing in front of him, and to him, that was the only thing that mattered in this moment. 

“I missed you so much. I love you,” he whispers into your hair, his voice barely able to be heard over the surrounding sounds. But you hear him, his voice as clear as day to you. You squeeze at him, your cheek smushed against his chest as he continues to hold you, worrying that if he let go, he would wake up back on base, miles away from you and the comfort of your embrace. 

You chuckle to yourself as he swiftly detaches himself from you, reaching out to take either side of your face into his hands, his eyes gazing into yours with a loving glint to them. You smile, tears rolling down your cheeks at the fact that you were finally reunited with him. “I love you too,” you declare, a squeak catching in your throat as Rudy quickly leans in to kiss you, his lips almost perfectly molding against yours. 

Your eyes flutter shut as the initial shock wears off, your arms lifting to secure themselves around his neck as he tugs you impossibly closer to him. You’re the one to pull away, with Rudy’s hands still attached to your face like velcro. You smile up at him, erupting into laughter again as he presses small kisses against any skin that he can reach; your eyelids, your cheeks, your nose, everywhere. 

You remain in his arms for God only knows how long, both of you simply basking in the others presence after having been away from it for so long. Even as the soldiers around you leave with their friends and families, you and Rudy stay rooted to where you stand. His thumbs stroke random patterns into your cheeks, his eyes admiring you. 

“Alright, come on, let’s go home, yeah?” you offer, smiling as Rudy’s hands squeeze your face. He nods in agreement, releasing you, but swiftly locking an arm around your waist. 

“Yeah.”

König

Word Count - 0.3k

He’s shaking as you pull him into your arms, cheek pressing against him as you let out a sigh of relief. König, as always, is so very gentle with you, lightly lifting you off of the ground and allowing you to wrap around him lika a koala. The feeling of your arms and legs around him brings with it a sense of comfort that he had been missing for seven months. 

“Liebling.” It’s all that he’s able to say in that moment, finding himself choked up at the thought that you were really here, really in his arms after all of that time spent apart. You nod, squeezing at him affectionately and burrowing yourself impossibly further into him. He can feel your tears against him, a telltale sign of the pure relief that you were feeling in that moment. 

“I’m so happy you’re home,” you whisper, smiling as you crane your neck just enough to make eye contact with König, heart swelling at the crinkle in the corners of his eyes. His mask prevented you from seeing the full extent of his smile, but you knew that it was there. 

“I missed you schatz. It was much too long,” König admits, smiling as you lean forward to kiss his covered forehead, then moving your hands to lightly lift the bottom of his sniper’s hood. He welcomes it, smiling widely as you lean forward to connect your lips with his, swallowing his breathy laugh and kissing him with such passion that he feels his knees weaken slightly. 

He almost doesn’t want you to pull away, but the need to breathe had become increasingly evident, and reluctantly, König allows you to pull back and catch your breath. You smile at him, moving his hood back to its original position before he places you down onto the ground. 

“I love you König,” you say softly, reaching out to lace your fingers into his own, squeezing them affectionately. His heart warms at your words, body bending to collect you into another embrace. He smiles at the feeling of you pressed against him, his arms wrapped firmly yet softly around you, careful not to injure you. 

“I love you more mein liebling,” he whispers into your ear, smiling as you squeeze at him. This was why he returned home, to see your bright smile, to feel your embrace, to be yours. 

Are we humans.. or are we gamers..

70's sci-fi Halo

[1920s!Brian]

Proxy twitter au

part 2

Part one of my taking screenshots of peoples comments on Hell's Smitten, my Gordon Ramsay fanfic 💀

𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚢𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚜

Can anybody give these old-ass Democrats protest lessons? They're acting like they're still living in pre-2015 politics when the GOP gave a shit and wasn't deranged.

A member gets up and starts shouting: All get up and shout with him.

Don't walk out: MAKE them carry you all out, not shutting up the entire time. I'm serious, go limp, be dead weight.

Putin's Puppet says a provable lie: Everyone chant "LIE" in unison for a solid minute instead of holding pitiful little signs in front of a man who can't read above a 3rd grade level.

Have someone who knows ASL sitting with you, interpreting everything in full view.

If you're gonna hold signs, make them BIG like you're actually trying to do something. Have them in multiple languages.

Make other signs that say clever or cutting things that will make him rage for days. "DOESN'T OLD TRUMP LOOK TIRED?" or "PUPPET PRESIDENT" or "EVERYONE IS FACT-CHECKING THIS SPEECH TRUMP DIDN'T WRITE" or "THE EMPEROR HAS NO CLOTHES" or his current tanking approval rating next to a laughing emoji.

Make a stink every day in congress, throw as many bills as you can on the floor even if they go nowhere, look like you're trying.

Have someone, idk maybe someone you actually want to boost for President in 3 gd years, be your voice of opposition in the media, loudly complaining and telling the facts, every single day. Let the people know you're there!

How hard is this? There's probably better suggestions than mine if they actually hired seasoned protestors or behaviorists/psychologists or even the biggest teenage troll they can find on a messageboard.

The Emperor Has No Clothes. So fucking act like it.

call of............ boot.. y

haha

ha

ok i'll see myself out