Whelp, I Was Bored :3

WHY IS THIS MF SO FUCKING PRETTYYYYYYY AAAAGGHHHHHH IJSFVIJETBBEIRVREIHVNRWOJVN

König’s face headcanon. Yes. Exactly.

YOU GOT THIS BITCH ✨✨✨

I have a surprise for the all woman Task force-- hopefully i can finish it by this week 💀💀

The misunderstanding. The yearning.

You're killing me here cap

Chewing on my knuckles and tearing open the walls

I'm so feral for this series

A ppart five of love potion where Soap is forced to watch Simon "serve" Roba?

That is so horrendous and terrible, anon I will literally kiss you on the lips from how much I love this

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Ghost knew that Soap and Roach were up to something. Whatever it was, it didn’t involve him as far as he could tell. He was tired. So tired. He hadn’t been able to sleep in a while. 

That’s why he fell asleep while with his Lady. She had been riding him and he had stepped away from himself like always. As long as she enjoyed herself, that was the important part. Who cared if he drifted away as long as his body stayed… interested?

Ghost felt the sting of the slap. She started to curse in her language and jumped off of him. 

He went to get up, to apologize and take his leave to giver her space, but she shoved him hard on to the bed.

“Stay right there. I have told Roba that running you ragged ruins you. Your performance is pathetic.” She sounded so angry but there was a tinge of concern. Pilar was always the nicer of them and he dimly hoped that maybe this was one of the rare times she stuck up for him. “Stay here for the day. Sleep.” 

Ghost swallowed. “Thank you.”

Pilar scoffed, but she softened just a little. Ghost felt his heart do something funny. It wasn’t like with Soap or Roach. It felt less like his heart fluttered and more that someone ripped into his chest and squeezed his heart. 

“I said sleep.”

Ghost smiled slightly but his eyes drifted close. After a week of nothing, it was too easy. 

Pilar put her head on his chest as they laid together. 

Roba came back from his time away and, despite how nice Pilar was about it, she still had him whipped. He had Ghost kneel down on the floor. “Shame I can’t do this in front of everyone. Your appearance is just too different though. Even if I cut off those fucking ears, they’ll still be able to tell.”

Roba kissed the whip before striking his back. Ghost closed his eyes as pain lanced through that mark. Blood dripped as his skin just tore. 

“You still haven’t found that thing in the woods.” He hit him again, the leather going straight through Ghost. Ghost forced himself to make a small pained sound. If he was quiet, Roba would try to hit him harder or would escalate it. Better to give him what he wants. 

“There ya go, sweetheart. Remember this next time you fail, yeah?” He hit him again. And again. 

Ghost made a noise every so often, but honestly? The pain wasn’t much anymore. Blood spilled and he knew he’d start to feel light headed soon. 

He loved them. 

He loved Roba so much. 

Sometimes, it hurt that they were so much nicer to each other than him. 

When was the last time he had felt… loved?

Ghost let out a sob in to the otherwise silent room and there was a pause. Roba let the leather of the whip trail against his open wounds. “Oh, sweetheart.” 

No. 

No, no, no,no, no,no,noooo,no.

“Poor thing. Stay on your knees.” Roba patted his face. “Feeling lonely lately? Surrounded by us vile humans? Unable to even talk about yourself? Must be terrible.” 

Ghost glared up at him. He hadn’t felt so alone recently. Honestly. Things had become easier with Johnny and Roach. 

A knock. 

It was so loud. 

Roba looked displeased as he crossed the room to the door. He opened it slightly and looked inside. “MacTavish.” 

“Hello, sir. I haven’t been able to find Ghost. We’re supposed to go out tonight to hunt for the creature.” 

Roba looked back at Ghost before glancing at MacTavish. “Can you keep a secret?”

“I… I can, sir.” 

“Come in.”

Ghost felt himself deflate. No… No… 

Soap walked in and he could hear how his heart picked up. 

“My prized possession.” Roba spoke softly. “He’s freshly punished, so he won’t have his usual wit about him. It’s how I prefer him honestly.” He yanked him back by his hair. “Would you like a lesson over elves?”

“I know how to kill them. I feel that’s enough.” Soap sounded nervous.

Roba hummed. “Their mouths are sharp. Not just their teeth, even the flesh of their tongue. It’s textured. Not the best for oral, which is a real disappointment.” He shoved his fingers into Ghost’s mouth, holding his head. “A masochist might like it. You a masochist?”

“No, sir.”

“Shame.” Roba backhanded Ghost who let out a soft groan. He spit up a mix of blood and saliva at his Lord’s feet. “Might finally have a use for that mouth.” He grabbed Ghost’s chin and held him tight. “Guess not. But trust me, they have plenty of other uses.”

Soap walked around him, trying to look at Ghost’s face he assumed. He wished he wouldn’t. This was humiliating enough. Truly. “That so, sir?” His voice was tight as he stared down at him. 

“Sir, please. This is unnecessary. I can put my gear on and go back out.” Ghost swallowed. “I’ll find it this time.” 

Roba stared at him before yanking him around but his hair. “Did i ask elf? No. I didn’t. One day I’ll cut that tongue of yours out. You barely speak anyway.” He glanced at Soap and then Pilar. 

Ghost looked at him, blood still dripping from all the broken skin. 

Roba put him on the bed, all gentle like. Lovers. Even prepped him. Trying to put on a show for his captive audience no doubt. 

Ghost pleaded to him quietly to please dismiss Soap first. He was his superior. This was awful. Please, do anything else just don’t do this. Let him have a little dignity. 

Roba put his hand around his throat. “Shut. Up.”

Ghost buried his face in the bed and tried to be silent. To disappear and never ever be seen again.

Soap swallowed so loudly he could hear it over Roba’s grunting. “Can i?..” 

“Yes.”

Ghost felt fingers card through his hair. So gentle and sweet. 

“Simon. A little effort, yeah?”

Ghost shivered and made fake whimpers into the bedding. He looked at Soap and they accidentally made eye contact. It was so intense. 

Soap let out a breath. Pity. 

Ghost wanted to cry. He instead glared at Soap before burying his face back into the sheets as he serviced Roba. His hips rocked back and he tried His best to speed this process up. 

Soap ran his fingers along his cheek and Ghost bit him, sinking his teeth into the kind flesh that wished to be nice to him. Soap didn’t pull away, instead letting him keep his teeth into him. 

“Barely even sentient. A step above an animal.” Roba smiled. “You’re not allowed to touch him like this. But you can watch. You’re clearly enjoying it.”

Ghost looked up to see Soap was, in fact, fucking hard. From his humiliation. Humans were awful. 

They were cruel. 

And fucking sadists. 

“You can get off.”

“No, thank you, sir.” Soap wouldn’t look at Ghost’s eyes now. 

Roba continued to fuck him until he finished. He pulled out and fixed his pants. “Simon. Get up and get clean. Then put on your armor and find that fucking monster.” He slapped his ass hard and Ghost wasn’t sure he could get anymore red. 

Pilar and Roba left and it was quiet for a while before Soap started moving. He cleaned up the wounds on his back silently. “Im sorry… i didn’t… i didn’t mean.”

“Shut up. You got off on it didn’t you?”

“No! Its not like that! I sweat just…”

“You find it sexually attractive. Me being fucking degrading.”

Soap winced. “No. Sorry i didn’t mean to react to it, just… you’re attractive but i swear its not… i don’t…”

Ghost stood up, feeling such an intense pain everywhere. His back. His fucking… He grabbed the bed to keep himself steady. “Just give me my fucking clothes.”

Soap handed them to him. “I really… I’m sorry.”

“Shut up. Let’s just fucking go.”

I find it so fucking funny how I've managed to amass a friend group of nearly all neurodivergents. Like-

There are about 3 people in it that have no chance of getting into the grippy sock vacation.

And the other 17?

Well.

There were about 10 of us going to Home Depot cause we're helping one of our group to get stuff for their new deck and just. We're in the outdoor garden part and one of my friends just slaps my arm and points at 2 crows and the only word that leaves their mouth is

"Crow"

I turned and saw the crows and just even louder stated "CROW" and everyone in our group just turned and stared bug eyed at the crows in pure silence for a solid 5 seconds before another friend piped up and said

"Those are some nice birbs."

And we all nodded and mumbled our collective agreement.

Damn, needed to hear this

Thanks ghoul :D

i don’t know if this is too personal but i’ve really been struggling with just writing without feeling so nervous and obsessive.

i feel like if i’m not recognized by the writers i’m inspired by im not doing it right. i really wanna write stuff and be apart of a community but i truly don’t know what im doing. it feels like i need to be noticed to be okay with my writing.

i’m sorry for the dump it’s just this has been fucking with me for a week now and i wondered if you’ve had an experience with this.

The first time a writer I followed liked one of my posts I texted my sister and we screamed about it. I was shocked and awed, I wondered what they liked about it and how I could write more fic that this person I looked up to would like.

We all want to be recognized by people we admire, but that shouldn't be the goal. We can hope for it of course, but ultimately you should be writing for yourself. Don't write to impress people because ultimately you'll be disappointed with your writing if you don't get the response you want, and being disappointed in your art is a terrible feeling.

As far as being part of the community goes, I don't think there's any sort of secret club or inner circle, there's no "famous cod writers" discord(at least not one I know about), it's all just people writing what they love. You're part of the community just by engaging with their content. More importantly writing means carving out space for yourself within the community. Fandom is an ever expanding market, each new creator sets up a stall and starts doing business alone, they don't usually join another creator's stall, and you'd never say the people walking around aren't participating in the market.

If you feel like your writing needs to be noticed to be worth anything then find a friend to notice you. Their opinion will feel like gold compared to anyone else’s. At the end of the day you're the only person who has a say over your writing, so write for yourself. You'll never know what other people like and you can't please everyone, just do you and people will find you.

Oh this is beautiful

BLACKCELL GAZ

The need to have these women step on me praise me is beyond anything this world could even begin to comprehend

Can’t stop thinking about the women can easily flip ghost or konig into the fucking ground. Like a sack of potatoes because they are strong like that.

Can’t stop thinking about soap shooting his shot on the K-9 handler but fumbled when she gave him her full attention.

Can’t stop thinking about Ale getting beet red, squirming, and stuttering when one of the women sit besides him and flirt with him. Looking at him with her intense and alluring eyes.

Can’t stop thinking about Price who is usually compose and sharp minded getting distracted and blank when the female captain, speak and he just straight of the bat agreeing with her.

Can’t stop thinking about Gaz being coodle just because how cute he is, the ladies coddles him, and always compliments him doing a great job. Making his head spin and dying inside.

😫😫😫😫

Losing my mind rn fr fr 💯💯💯

Wake up everyone New ghouljams post just dropped

Bad news I just watched the VVitch and I have fae!Price and Witch thoughts.

You stand at the edge of the forest, the shadows within lengthening with the path of the sun. You hold your cloak tight around your shoulders, keep your eyes fixed on a single point. A crossing of branches. You've seen it once before, the way the leaves around them seem to twist and draw other branches in. Fae signs. Proof of magic in the area. Magic you want.

The shadows grow longer, the chill of evening settling in now, you haven't moved in hours. If your patience does not prove fruitful tonight you'll come again tomorrow, and tomorrow, until you get what you want. You have always relied on your own determination to make the impossible happen. Still, as you feel the sun's rays begin to sink below the horizon you feel your confidence wavering. Perhaps no one will come.

It's with the soft purple light of dusk that you hear it: the silent whisper of the forest. A low voice that rumbles in your chest, strokes over your cheeks. "What do you want?" It asks.

"What can you offer?" I don't want to be alone anymore, you think, tamping down your desires before the voice can hear them.

"The morning, the afternoon, the evening," the voice seems to smile, skirting around your perception, "a new perspective on the world, a pretty dress, a quiet hearth."

"Magic," you whisper to yourself, bidden by the voice to offer your own plea.

"For a price," it agrees, "You'd never know anything else." Not loss or heartache, never loneliness or isolation. You tip your head when fingers skate along your neck, eyes closing as they trace your jaw, grip your chin. "You are a pretty thing, aren't you?"

There's a man in front of you when you open your eyes. Tall, handsome, he has a beard to hide his mouth and eyes like the winter's sky. You blink at him, it would be polite to thank him for the compliment if he weren't fae. That knowledge doesn't stop the way your cheeks heat up at his continued staring. His rapt attention feels heavier than the stones you village would use to crush you if they knew what you were doing. Thank God they don't.

"You still believe in god?" The man asks, as if he could hear your thoughts.

"I don't know what I believe," honesty, you have the strangest feeling that you wouldn't be able to lie to this man.

"Is that why you came to me?"

"You have something I want," you tell him, "magic, freedom."

He tips his head, regarding you with a smirk, it's strange the chill the heat in his eyes sends down your spine. "Magic won't give you what you're looking for," he tells you in return, "but alright."

You can't help the smile that splits your face. Riddles or not, price or no, you're getting what you want. Something of your own, making the stupid choice for once in your life.

"I look forward to seeing what you do with it," the fae man tells you. You barely have the time to ask how you're supposed to do anything when you don't have it yet, before he kisses you. Pulls you in with an arm around your waist and kisses you as your fingers leave your cloak and twist into his shirt. It's a rush, like being dunked into cold water, your body filling with an unknown that seeps into every crack and corner. Magic that tingles and shivers in the tips of your fingers and the shake of your breath. He lets you go and you twitch to pull him in again, only to be met with a low chuckle.

"Next time little witch," he tells you, ghosting his lips over yours, "good luck."

He's gone when you open your eyes.

Where my Gaz stans at

GO GIVE OUR BOY SOME LOVE!!!

The cod fandom is so fucking white what even .The Gaz erasure is so gross .a lot of you don’t even try to hide it .Don’t get me wrong you can write about whoever you want but to title it is as 141 X reader and then not include gaz is just disgusting .