#fifth post

[h3artz4-r3g1na]

[localcringekitty]

When John McTavish was shot and survived, his world fell apart.

Price went MIA after General Shepherd was found dead in his office.

Ghost transferred to another unit and was supposedly in Russia now.

Gaz sent him letters, but didn't have time to visit due to tracking down Makarov with Laswell.

And Soap, well John on paper and on hospital forms and on discharge documents, was left behind.

Soap didn't feel like a miracle. He felt left.

He replayed it constantly, the shot, the heat, his own stupid surprised thought of well, that's not ideal before everything went black.

Then there was the waking up.

Hospital bed. Tubes. Silence. His own heartbeat sounding foreign in his ears.

No one was there to greet him. Just machines.

He got one shaky video call with Laswell instead. Efficient. Polite. Regretful. Telling him the team was preoccupied. Telling him they hadn't forgotten him.

He almost laughed.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Gaz wrote, at least.

Letters. Neat handwriting. Too measured. Too careful. Like Gaz was trying not to lean on grief as he wrote: Wish I could be there and working leads not done and hold tight, Johnny.

Soap stared at them on the bedside table like they might explode.

Cheers for the letters, mate. Shame paper doesn't help me walk straight.

 -------------------------------------------------------------

Price was confusing.

Not a call. Not a letter. Nothing.

Just vanished off the grid, swallowed by shadows and guilt and whatever hole men like Price crawl into when they fail to save the word and their people.

Come kick down my door, Cap. Tell me you need me. Anything's better than disappearing like smoke.

 -------------------------------------------------------------

Ghost was the one that cut the deepest.

He didn't vanish. He replaced Soap, replaced the team.

Transferred. Redeployed. Wheels up. Gone. Russia, of all bloody places. Probably standing in the snow somewhere solving problems with guns and monosyllabic grunts, same as always.

I got shot in the noggin', you poxy bastard. The least you could is haunt the hospital corridor like usual.

 -------------------------------------------------------------

Soap realized the only later that anger was easier than grief.

Because grief sounded like don't leave me.

And John Soap McTavish never begged for anything in his life.

Then you started knocking on his door.

-------------------------------------------------------------

It was raining the first time you showed up at his flat. A quiet, apologetic kind of rain. The kind that barely tapped, like it was scared too knock to hard.

Soap swung the door open a touch too fast, half-expecting pity, paperwork, or press.

Instead, you just blinked at him.

You held a tote bag against yourself like a shield. Your scrubs a muted color.

You said something short, soft, unremarkable--

Name, role, schedule--

And stepped in when Soap grunted something that could have meant fine or piss off. He didn't know either.

You watered the one suffering houseplant. You re-organized his medication into a weekly tray with colour-coded stickers. You did laundry and folded blankets into neat squares even though he unfolded them just to spite organization.

You also made tea that tasted like warmth and quiet rain.

But the thing was: you didn't act like he was fragile.

You carried groceries up two flights without asking if he needed help. You unscrewed stuck jars without handling them to him.

You stepped around his sharper moods like you'd spent a lifetime dofigin emotional barbed wire without getting snagged.

It pissed him off at first.

Then it unsettled him.

Then, quietly, it steadied something in him he didn't know was still shaking.

He kept excepting you to pry. To poke the scar, metaphorically or literally. To ask if it hurt, if he remembered, if he killed the man who shot him, if he was scared, if he was okay--

You never asked a single thing.

And it made him want to tell you everything.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Soap caught himself glancing at you more often than he’d admit.

Watching you move around the flat.

Watching how your eyes softened when you looked at the smallest details he’d never noticed before.

And the thought that maybe he didn’t have to be sharp, witty, or indestructible to earn your presence settled somewhere deep in his chest.

Some nights, he stayed awake longer than you, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the past—

And then he’d hear the soft sound of your breathing from the other room, and it grounded him.

He couldn’t explain it—

He didn’t have to.

Just knowing you were there, quietly keeping vigil in your own small way, was enough.

It didn’t fix him. It didn’t erase the anger, the grief, the scars, mental or physical.

But it made them manageable.

One evening, months in, you handed him a cup of tea.

He caught your hand for just a moment, an instinctive hold, almost accidental—

Your gaze met his, calm and unflinching—

And he realized that maybe he didn’t have to fight alone anymore.

In the moment he only exhaled, a slow, steady sound that had nothing of mission orders or battlefield tension.

Just relief.

And for now, that was enough.

The world outside could wait. The past could wait. The future, whatever shape it took, could wait.

Because in that quiet, ordinary apartment with the rain tapping at the windows and a cup of tea warming his hands—

John Soap McTavish had discovered something he hadn’t thought possible after all the chaos—

He could trust someone to stay.

And that, for him, was everything.

Angst

Why do we live in a capitalist society bro these eight hour shifts four days in a row are killing me

Comments/feedback I love

Pls request something I want ideas

Also go check out my other posts pls I’ve done Gaz and Price and Ghost

[mai-skylar45]

me lying awake remembering how Shang Qinghua didn’t think he is a competent human and never once believed that Mobei Jun would love him romantically but despite that he still followed his king unconditionally. He begs, he acts pitiful, he “betrays” his sect all for a king that he believed didn’t love him at all

Meanwhile Mobei Jun slowly learning to trust Qinghua and eventually learns to only trust Qinghua so much that he only allows Qinghua to go to his ceremony to gain his clan’s powers but then finds out that the person he trusted with his life was planning on leaving him.

But QingHua doesn’t leave and instead saves Mobei Jun’s life AGAIN, never once letting Mobei Jun down...

I love Moshang infinitely more than the main ship and I will always die on that hill

[dilutedjustice]

bad days

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ SYNOPSIS :: your boyfriend, katsuki helps train you for your upcoming track meet.

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ TAGS :: (boyfriend-coach!)katsuki x (track athlete)f!reader ᯓ fluff ᯓ wc: 1.9k ᯓ proofread! ᯓ story ᯓ

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ AUTHOR’S NOTE :: NO, i'm not self projecting because i’m on the track team and want a coach boyfriend, shut up! ★ also a little track lingo; the term “WHOOP WHOOP” means your hawking down/running faster than the person who's in front of you ★ i don’t know how, but this is the first story i’ve written in under 24 hours... i was determined okay! ★ and ik i’ve been writing katsuki a lot but uh, mind your business.. ★ l/n = last name

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ EDIT :: apologies for the post being 4 hours behind schedule, i had TONS of homework and i had a different story i was going to post but it included a link to a video that explained the synopsis and the video was removed so i had to proofread and edit this story 🥹

you were walking home when you could hear your phone ringing inside your backpack. you unzipped it and blindly searched for your phone. once you found it, you saw it was your boyfriend, katsuki calling you. he remembered what time he should call you everyday now that you're on your school’s track team, and you returned home at a later time than usual.

you slid the answer button and continued walking. as the phone connected, he could already tell by your facial expression that you were about to cry.

“what’s wrong?” a deep voice came through your phone with genuine concern.

“practice was so bad today,” you sniffed as you wiped your tears with your sleeves. “my legs have been hurting so badly and it’s messing up my performance— and i have a track meet in a week— and we have to go against our rival school— and my coach is expecting a lot from me— but she’s telling me she might not put me in next week—” you rambled your heart out as he sat there and listened to you.

“what part of your legs hurt the most?” he spoke calmly but reassuringly.

you sniffed again before speaking, “my shins and my hamstrings. i think i might have shin splints.”

he hummed at your response, “stop running in your spikes for a little, just wear your running shoes, okay?”

“okay,” you replied, “are you still coming to see me today?” you bit your lip in vexation, walking up the stairs to your house while trying to find your key inside your book bag.

“of course i am, but i have to do a couple of things first, then i’ll be to your house, yeah?” you could hear him dashing down the stairs and grabbing his keys from off the kitchen counter.

you said okay and you both said your love you’s and goodbyes before katsuki hung up the phone. you finally found your key and pushed it through the little hole and twisted it until it clicked. you rushed into your room and dropped your heavy school bag, practice bag, and your water bottle.

the room was filled with morose as you laid out your pajamas and wrapped your hair in a bun. you grabbed your towel and body wash and blasted your favorite song in the bathroom. you stepped into the shower and washed up, still finding yourself still a little bummed out about practice today despite taking a scolding hot shower.

once you got out of the shower, you got dressed and katsuki had just pulled up to your house. your parents opened the door for him, and he went to your room. he opened your bedroom door and closed it behind him, which scared you and made you jump up in your chair before taking note of the bags he had in his hand.

“hey baby, i got you some stuff.” he placed the bags on your vanity and sat on the edge of the bed waiting for you to see what was inside.

in one bag was bio-freeze, icy-hot, ibuprofen, a new water bottle, a foam roller, a massage gun, shin tape, and some tiger balm. in the other bag were your favorite sports drinks, protein bars, and fruit salads from the convenience store up the street from your house. as you looked through the bags your mouth fell agape while turning over to him.

“babyy,” you cooed, “you didn’t have to do this…” your lips started to quiver in awe.

you walked in between his legs and gave him a hug, following it with a sweet kiss on his lips. he grabbed your waist as he pulled you closer and kissed you back, showering you with sweet pecks.

“also, tomorrow i’m gonna be with you all week to help train you for your track meet, alright?” he rubbed your sides and lower back from under your shirt.

“that sounds fun, thank you kats.” you smiled at him as you both began to lay on the bed. “oooh wait,” you reached for something on top of your vanity. “can you massage my legs please?” you handed him the massage gun he just got you.

“sure baby,” he chuckled softly as you laid on your stomach, he massaged your legs with the gun and with his bare hands.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

after that night, katsuki was training you hard. he first helped you learn how to sprint out your blocks correctly. it was 6:30pm and the sun was getting ready to rest.

katsuki had called set as you lifted your butt slightly in the air, then yelled go and you sprinted as hard as you could until you heard him say “nuh-uh, let’s try it again,” which annoyed you a little.

he eyed you as you walked back to your blocks before he lifted your chin to make you look at him. “why are you having an attitude with me? i’m trying to help you.” he placed a kiss on your lips, which obviously got rid of your attitude.

“you’re doing well, just remember you need to have your thirteen-step drive phase, which means keeping your head down,” he reminded you.

he even helped you with your endurance and acceleration. he raced you, and even watched you race so he could pick on your form to even the littlest mistake.

“baby, you need to drive your knees up more like that,” he lifted your knee, then he told you to lock your ankles and drive your feet on the floor, then for your feet to nearly touch your butt, then put your knees back up again. "see baby? it's like riding a bike." he demonstrated on you.

“and you need to move your arms more. the faster you swing your arms, the faster your legs will go,” he handed you your water bottle and kissed your forehead, “but you’re doing great so far,” he added.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

after a crucial two weeks of non-stop practice with your team, and extra practice with coach katsuki, it was finally meet day. you were running a 200-meter dash and you were pretty nervous. the officials on the announcement called for the 200-meter runners to check in at the in-field.

“katsuki come with me. i have to check in.” you playfully dragged him off the bleachers.

he held your spikes in his hand and you both went onto the infield and checked in. you walked up to the lady as she checked her clipboard, “what’s your last name and heat sweetie?” she asked politely.

“l/n, heat fifteen.” you smiled at her sweetly.

“y/n?” she asked, you nodded. “lane one honey, here’s your sticker.” she handed you two stickers with the number one on it as you thanked her.

“lane one? are you kidding me!” you started freaking out.

“baby, we practiced in lane one, just think of this like it’s me and you at practice again, okay?” he reassured you, looking at you with stern but hopeful eyes.

you only nodded at him. “if you get first place, we can go and get you chick-fil-a or something,” he sighed, making your smile suddenly grow.

you and katsuki walked away and sat somewhere in the field. you took off your jacket and pulled down your sweatpants, which underneath revealed your track uniform. you handed katsuki your clothes, and he handed you your spikes.

“i don’t like how short those shorts are,” he grumbled under his breath, which made you giggle.

“it’s okay, it’s not that bad,” you tried to reassure him, even though you said it yourself that your shorts were too short.

“do you need to go get your shins taped before you start your race or are you good?” he asked, looking down at you lacing your spikes.

“i think i'm okay now,” you smiled at him.

a couple of minutes later, everyone started gathering for the 200-meter dash. you gave katsuki a quick kiss on the cheek, and you lined up behind all the other racers while katsuki went back to the bleachers, getting ready to record you.

when the first two heats went, they seemed pretty fast, which started to make you anxious. with every gun shot that went off, you stepped closer and closer to your lane. when you were stuck in your thoughts, you heard the officials yell, “heat fifteen, let's go let's go!" you sucked in a deep breath and walked to lane one, you constantly moved around, trying to kick the anxiety out of your body.

"runners, take your mark!” you quickly did your block ritual and got into your blocks. your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your head. you remembered everything katsuki had been telling you to do, and imagined it as if this was you two practicing again.

“get set...” the official yelled as he pointed the gun into the air. you pointed your hips in the air, legs bent, and heels on your blocks. all you told yourself at that moment was “drive drive drive drive drive drive.” until you heard the gun go off. you sprinted out of your blocks and counted your thirteen steps before slowly lifting your head up. you drove your knee up after every step and continued to move your arms fast.

as you passed most of the people in your heat, you heard your teammates yell “WOOOP WOOOP!” you had already run the first 100 meters and all you had to do was maintain, maintain, maintain. you swung your arms harder and took a deep breath, you leaned your body forwards as you crossed first place in your heat. once you crossed the finish line, you sped-walked back over to the infield and laid on the ground, out of breath.

katsuki walked back over to you and picked you up off the floor. “c’mon, ‘s no air down there on the ground,” he joked.

he handed you your water bottle as he carried you on his back all the way to the bleachers. “did i do good kats?” you huffed, still winded.

“yeah baby, you did great, you got 25.18 seconds. i’m proud of you,” he smirked, sitting you down on the bleachers and giving you a kiss on your forehead.

“awww, thank you kats. i couldn’t have done it without you.” you smiled as you laid onto his shoulder, and watched the rest of the events together.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

once you got home and was in bed, katsuki went downstairs to grab the chick-fil-a door dashed for you both. while you watched the video of your race when he recorded you. in the beginning of the video, he counted your thirteen steps to make sure you achieved the drive phase, and you did. he made sure you ran on the inside of the curve, which you also did. and made sure you kept swinging your arms even when you were tired, which you also did. when he saw you come in first he let out a relieved sigh, followed with a, “that’s my girl.”

he opened the door and placed the chick-fil-a bag on your bed and sat next to you. “i’m so proud of you baby, y’know that?” he opened the bag and handed you your food.

“awww, thank youu,” you smiled, “y’know for summer track, you should join the team, it’ll be fun!” you opened your food and took a bite of it.

“hmm, i’ll think about it,” he hummed.

© 2026 dilutedjustice | do not plagiarize any of my work, you can repost and/or translate

[strawlessandbraless]

Notable September 5th events:

A beard tax was introduced in 1698

On the Road by Jack Kerouac was published

Freddie Mercury of Queen was born

National Pizza Day

Supernatural Season 5 DVD was released

[mortimer-miracalla]

Strife

Beg, break, bleed, cry, Build, bind, burn, ash, Starve, insanity, cut, kill Hunt, despair, hide, sin, War, rot, plague, pry.

And when you lie bloodied and broken, Cleansed by the cold black flame, Know that the God of Fear and Hunger... Acknowledges your suffering.

[quest0179]

❝𝐀 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 (𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏)❞

OC comic by quest0179

Of course, as indicated by the title, this will have more parts (prolly one or two more), particularly because I don't really want to take too long putting it all in one post only to post it a day late. And of course, to build anticipation (I guess) :D Anyways, I know the plot for this comic isn't much, but hey, I'm better at drawing than creating a decent plotline 〒▽〒

Buuuuuutttttt, I do hope that I can try to create a more interesting and concrete story in the future. But even then, I'm just posting to express my passion. So, it's all just for fun at the end of the day (●'◡'●) But if you do like it, I'd like to say how much I appreciate it! Just one note is enough to bring a smile on my face :) I'm trying to post regularly as to make sure this blog isn't too dead, so, yeah... With that, to put it simply, as of now, much of the oc stuff I'll post won't have too much depth, but again, I hope that I can find the time and energy to make it better...

(❁´◡`❁)

That's all, and I hope you have a good day/night!

[bombrushcyberfunkmemes-daily]

Hmmm w...what a nice spot........

Oh h....hi