TheLocal_Loser
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How foolish of him to think that the horrors of the island wouldn’t follow him home.
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The red head watched as Ralph delicately grew apart from the crowd and made his way down a less occupied hallway.
Jack found it hard to think as his affiliation made his way deeper down the corridor and away from his scrutinizing gaze. The music was so loud the redhead couldn’t even hear himself think. Everything was too fucking loud. It was hard to concentrate. His heart began to ache as the blond was no longer in his line of sight, leaving him to bask in his loneliness once more.
He was always close, but never close enough; frustratingly unattainable.
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With a cigarette in hand and a picture of an all too familiar boy in mind, Jack can’t help but imagine all the things he wish he did while back on the island.
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"Ivan’s deepest fantasy is one where they lean on each other softly. They’re in a bright world, a real one. They take their time to hold each other, to gaze at each other. Nobody comes around. The sky shines and every touch is soft. A perfect equilibrium.
He should bash his skull in next time."
Bookmarked by TheLocal_Loser
01 Aug 2025
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But somehow, in some way, their relationship managed to grow stronger. Till trusted Ivan as a friend, a confidant, and a shoulder to lean on.
Perhaps that was where he went wrong.
Till shouldn’t have ever trusted Ivan.- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by TheLocal_Loser
29 Jun 2025
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Ivan sat on the small table of their cramped kitchen, the wooden chair beneath him creaking softly as he leaned forward. His elbows were propped on the glass coffee table with a cup of whatever sugary shit was in it. His fingers were curled loosely on the cool handle of it as the scent of artificial flavoring lingering in the air.
He wasn’t drinking it—just holding it, swirling the liquid absently as his sharp eyes locked onto Till’s thigh.
He was staring silently at Till's thigh, covered with a huge, clearly bloody compress tighten up with bandages so tight they bit into the skin, an ugly contrast against Till’s pale complexion. Some edges were darkening where blood had seeped through.
The gray-haired man moved with difficulty but was getting pissed off as he could practically hear Ivan’s cartoonish "jiiiiiiiii..." sound effect in his head as he stared.
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Ivan fucks Till's huge cut on his thigh. Requested via google form :3❤️
Bookmarked by TheLocal_Loser
08 Jun 2025
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John Price is not doing well.
He's swamped in paperwork, drowning in responsibilities, and worst of all, Laswell is making him the laughingstock of the Special Forces.
So, pent up and frustrated, he takes his anger out on the one person he feels has started it all: the pesky, quiet little operator Laswell forced him to take in.
Roach.
Bookmarked by TheLocal_Loser
08 May 2025
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The sun blazes down on Soap’s upturned face, eyes shut tight against the glare that feels like it could melt its way straight to his brain. He’s perched in the passenger seat of a cherry red convertible, top-down, the wind lashing through his hair and shirt like a hurricane. If he dared crack an eye open, he’d see the desert screaming by- crimson cliffs jagged as broken teeth, cacti dotting the land intermittently, and a sky so blue it looks like God Himself painted it with a steady hand. But Soap keeps his eyes shut tight. Freedom’s a cruel tease out here, a mirage shimmering just beyond the next dune. It’s like a window in a prison cell, showing you the world you’ll never touch again. A pity, really. He’s sure Arizona is beautiful this time of year.
“Took you all this way and you won’t even enjoy it properly,” Ghost grumbles, his voice barely cutting through the roar of the engine and the wind’s howl, but Soap hears the irritation plain as day.
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READ THE TAGS PLEASE! Ghost kidnapped Soap and turns him into his wife. Previously named "Now That You're Gone"- sorry, I'm indecisive LOL
Bookmarked by TheLocal_Loser
07 May 2025