Giving up on that fuckass artwork lol
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Denmark
seen from United States
seen from Guatemala
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Italy
seen from Switzerland
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Switzerland
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
Giving up on that fuckass artwork lol
Made some of these
😭
No... no, snap out of it...!!
That's Mason......!
What about my adbell...?
🙀
Adler is...
right there...!!! (napping)
This game is killing me 😫
Tiny sneak peek 👀
Can you guess what this is about?
I see. Woods talked about you a lot…never thought I’d actually “meet” you.
- 💉
That doesn’t surprise me. Frank always was a sentimental bastard. And trust me, it’s just as weird for me to back on the radar as it is to anyone who knew about my “death”
Annoyed Adler | Bell & Russell Adler | short story |
A/N: In the photo below, that's what I imagine my version of Bell would wear. Their outfit is a mix of everyone else's clothes because Russell and Helen weren't about to go shopping for a brainwashed operative they expected to die. It wasn't in the budget, nor was it a priority.
Unfortunately, Bell took full advantage of wearing men's pants. The oversized pockets were perfect for storing all the little things they stole and kept for themselves.
Russell couldn't even talk.
Today, he was speechless from the sheer bullshit.
Who was responsible, one may ask?
Bell.
Bell was responsible for most of Russell's inconveniences. If he was pissed, blame Bell.
Their body trembled beneath the weight of the chair balanced on their shoulder. At any moment, it looked like Bell was going to collapse under it.
"Bell." His voice was laced with agitation.
His fist clenched against the desk. His tailbone was still screaming from when he'd landed flat on his ass. The chair he'd thought was behind him... wasn't.
His face flushed red with embarrassment at the memory.
Thankfully, nobody had seen Russell Adler—a seasoned veteran—fall on his ass because of a brainwashed Soviet operative.
With trembling legs, Bell walked out of the room.
"Bell!" Russell shouted. "That is my chair!"
He was left standing at his desk.
A slow realization made him clench his jaw.
He had lost to someone who was brainwashed. Not only brainwashed, but mute. Bell had won without saying a single word. Pure pettiness.
--
"What do you have in your pocket, Bell?"
Bell sat on the floor.
Photos of Mason and Woods. Helen with Lazar. Sims working under a car.
Even one of Jason with his permanently scowling face.
All of them looked decent.
When they realized he was watching, Bell hid one of the photos.
"Let me see."
He reached his hand out.
Bell gave him one of the photos scattered across the floor.
"No." He handed it back. "I want the one in your pocket."
Bell finally relented with an eye roll, as if he was the one bothering her.
The photo was horrible.
He wasn't wearing his glasses. His hair was a mess. He was asleep, mouth open, drooling.
The camera was far too clear for his liking. It captured every little detail.
It made him frown.
He realized they had taken a picture of him while he was drunk. Completely out of it.
Before he could cut it up, Bell snatched it back and shoved it into their pocket.
"You know I can make your life miserable."
A beat.
Bell stared at him.
Quiet.
He flicked their forehead. Hard.
Helen had already told him he couldn't physically harm Bell in their current condition. They were still healing.
A small flick was nothing. It couldn't cause any serious harm.
Still, it made him feel slightly better when Bell grabbed their forehead and hid inside their jacket.
"Stop performing," Russell stated. "You're being dramatic."
Bell sprawled out even more. He knew exactly what they were doing. They were trying to get him scolded by Helen again.
Thirty minutes.
That's all it took for Bell to start acting like themselves again. A bruise had already formed on their forehead.
"Bell."
He could tell Bell's pockets were full. As usual, he needed to check them. Just in case they decided to attack someone. As much as they had been brainwashed, they could still be dangerous to themselves and to everyone around.
Bell slowly began emptying their pockets. Placing each item on the floor.
A lighter. Probably Adler's.
Two bolts.
The broken handle of a screwdriver.
A camera.
Film for the camera.
Two bullets, which Russell immediately confiscated.
This greatly offended the kleptomaniac known as Bell.
"You don't need those."
Bell stared at him for a moment. Then, in response, they walked over to his desk and took something of his instead. A handful of his pens disappeared into their pocket.
Specifically, all of his good pens.
"Member of the 22 SAS Special Projects Team, trained in Hostage Rescue and CQB Tactics. Dishonorably discharged, he became a mercenary selling his skills to the highest bidder. His service records remain classified."
That feeling when you get home from work and just wanna lie on the floor with your wife.
There's too little Hudson content, so I made this for his other 4 fans - featuring none other than Jenny Hudson herself 🤭