#semperfimotherfxcker

[cmdrchristinechapel-blog]

[Sass Meme, ha] Sarge tipped his head to look down - Waaay down - at Christine. He lofted an eyebrow slowly. "You can’t fight me, you’re miniature"

Christine just gazed coolly back at Sarge. “I don’t have to fight you, Sergeant Kelly. I have no problems with you, provided you show up on schedule for your physicals. If you don’t, there won’t be a place you can hide from me.” She grinned at him. “Then again, if you don’t show for a Marine Corps required exam, I will be the least of your worries.”

((damn lol I totally expected Reaper to jump on one of those. hahaha))

[reaperasingrimm-archive]

|| Dude, Demon Hunter!! 

“Last One Alive” gives me Reaper and Sarge Feels! 

[reaperasingrimm-archive]

“…the fuck! They made you a Trading Card? Where the Fuck is My Trading Card??" 

“You turned into a man-eating monster, Tom. Why would you get a trading card?”

[reaperasingrimm-archive]

continued from here 

He was careful. With Tom, John had to tread lightly when it came to the line. Seemed the longer they knew one another, the more it got pushed. Sometimes, John thought it was obliterated all together.

Licking his lips, he side-eyed the larger man, but held his ground. Everything was about strength with Tom. And holding his ground was a good way to keep the man from losing it and putting his ass in a sling.

Unbidden, John thought back to one of their earlier meetings. Before he'd learned to just stand his ground. Then, he'd just called the man Sarge. Wouldn't have dreamed of calling him Tom. And Sarge had put him in the infirmary for three days.

"You made me what I am today, that much is true." He conceded. And then shifted to turn and face his CO fully. "But you're gonna have to do more to get me to admit that I'm yours."

[reaperasingrimm-archive]

|| It's like you're baiting me with these, damn you! || In the half light of the Barracks, Sarge's arm shot out, his palm smacking the doorframe and blocking Reaper's access to the exit. "You belong to /me/." He growled, his voice like a distant roll of thunder. Not to intimidate (John was beyond such things), but to remind his soldier just what he's agreed to when he signed up for the RRTS. Semper Fi, Loyalty Til Death. Sarge would have it all from him.

(I do what I can)

He'd been on his way down to his footlocker so he could grab a pair of skivvies and a shower. Sarge had been kicking their asses on the O-Course and he was ready to clean up and be unconscious.

Well, until an arm stopped him.

"I belong to the Corps." He corrected, baiting Sarge. He knew the larger man would react to the correction and he was banking on something that would involve a little contact.

Maybe he was a little masochistic, but John liked the attention. Liked it when Sarge turned that intense gaze on him.

[reaperasingrimm-archive]

|D&D Meme, God help me| "Hey!" Sarge yanked the handle of his blade from the skull of an arachnoid insurgent with enough force to splatter the strange, blue cranial fluid in an arc across the floor. He pointed the tip in Reaper's general direction, waving it with an air of injured dignity, "--I have /never/ tried to stab you in a combat situation. Quit bitching.”

John glared from where he was wiping blue shit and thicker things from one of the dead bugs from his face and shirt.

"Semantics. That's all that is." He grunted, stomping a little harder than necessary on a still-twitching claw. "Just because you've never tried doesn't mean you've never considered it."