The Killing Of Palestinians Is Still Going, Boycotting Is Still Going

NAH BABES I JUST GOT BACK FROM WORK AND YOU HAVE NO. IDEA. HOW THIS HAS BEEN SWIRLING AROUND THE BACK OF MY HEAD MY ENTIRE SHIFT. FUCKS SAKE. PLEASE FLESH THIS OUT EVENTUALLY (only if you want to though-)

Can't stop thinking about an all woman Task Force coming to SAS and helping Task Force 141 + Kortac for a mission

Can't stop thinking about the male team waiting for the women to get here, expectations all different for each of them

Can't stop thinking about a huge, futuristic transport plane coming down to land, and Soap wondering why they don't have one that cool (And Ghost telling him to shut up)

Can't stop thinking about two women jumping out of the jet and play fighting, chasing each other and one pinning the other one down in a chokehold

Can't stop thinking about the absolute shock the men have on their faces when they see how fast they are, and how tall and big and pretty these two women are

Can't stop thinking about the giggling women standing up but get pushed forward by another girl, even taller and bigger than the other two, frowning at them and snapping at them to 'keep the line moving'

Can't stop thinking about more of the female team coming out of the plane, some with headphones on, some talking to each other, and some straight up ignoring the male team as they carry heavy cargo like it weights nothing

Can't stop thinking about how there's a K9 handler on the team and brought out these big ass wolf-dogs with spiked collars and one of them scares the shit out of Soap because it barked at him and she apologizes to him with a nervous smile (he's already in love)

Can't stop thinking about how the males can't stop goggling at these absolute beautiful women that pass them by who look like they're from the fucking island of Themyscira

Can't stop thinking about how Capitan Price and Ghost almost pass the hell out when they see the last two women get out of the plane, the tallest person they've ever seen in the front and a bit shorter one in the back

Can't stop thinking about how all the women have to bend down to go through the doors

Can't stop thinking about all the women finally introducing themselves with their call signs and the tallest one in the team (who almost broke their doors because she cant get through them) is the Capitan and her second in command is behind her

Can't stop thinking about the second in command giving Ghost a small nod with a soft smile, sending him in a spiral

Can't stop thinking about some of the girls crowding the men, cooing down at them about how cute they are and how muscular they are, pinching their flustered cheeks and curiously groping their overwhelmed bodies

Definitely can't stop thinking about how the men know they're absolutely fucked for these few months.

Can't. Stop. Thinkinnggggg.

I don't know if I'm reading too much into this, but I came back to this comic after the final part was released and noticed that the ghost finger puppet thingy is kept separate from the rest of the 141. And for those who have seen part 3... well...

If that was intended foreshadowing, I'm screaming , kicking my feet and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure cause FUCKIN' HELL. But if not don't mind me and my brain worms :)

CW:// IMPLIED MCD + ANGST

CW:// IMPLIED MCD + ANGST

So y’all wanted a part 2? Here u go :)

There will be one more part to this whole thing!!

Edit: part 3 is posted🫡

REBLOG THE WIZARD

In New Zealand, there is a man legally known as ‘The Wizard’ who is an educator, comedian, magician and politician. Some of his political ideas include:

Abolishing old-fashioned gender roles

Travelling to find the “center of the universe”

Replacing God and the Church with Wizardry and the World Wide Web

HAPPY TO BE OF SERVICE BOO <33

And thanks for the compliment, I'll be here lurking for a while so if you want anything else drawn just turn on a lamp and I'll be there :))

HAHAHAHA GUESS WHAT I JUST FINISHED

M O T H

OMFG SHES SODKSNRKSSHAOLEMSJSH SHES AMAZING

IM FREAKING OUT RN

OMFG4H3I29WKAHSJAKA SHES ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUUULLLLL

This is the first time someone has drawn something for me. And especially from my writing. This is truly amazing and I'm so glad and grateful. <3<3 AND SECOND OFF YOU'RE AN AMAZING ARTIST???? HOLY SHIT

WIP for the poll I posted yesterday :]

I wanna get all my little scribbles ready for when the poll finishes and send em out in order sooo

Yippee

Sorry for the rant and probs gonna get hate cuz ik this fandom but i had to say this

-This goes to all fandoms, not just Call of Duty-

You are responsible for the content you consume. Don’t like, Don’t read.

i’ve seen a few posts about this but

if you cannot spell or speak about rape, pedophilia or any dark or sensitive topics then maybe don’t talk about it, because purposely misspelling it proves you are not mature enough to talk about it or handle the topic, this isn’t tik tok you don’t have to sugarcoat anything. Yes i am aware these are sensitive (and horrible) subjects and can be triggering but no one is forcing you to read or talk about it.

Me, and a lot of authors, put the content warnings at the top of the fic because that’s the first thing people will see and it is your responsibility to read those warnings if you wish to read a fic, not ours. This goes with Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (DDDNE), a warning or tag used to indicate that a fanwork contains tropes or elements that may be deemed morally reprehensible without explicitly condemning the sensitive aspect. It says what it says on the tin and you still read it, that is on you, not us.

Saying an author is glorifying or promoting a topic and saying they need mental or professional help for writing/reblogging rape or abuse or sexual assault because of their or another authors writings is a stretch, people can and are into some messed up things that to some people can be triggering or disturbing and you can be 100% into something fictionally without wanting to explore it physically.

No one if forcing you to read something you do not like

Same with minors in fandoms, this is a common things and there is nothing you can do about it, yes they shouldn’t be viewing or reading certain things in the fandoms but they’ll still find a way no matter how hard to try and stop them.

Say rape, say kill, no one’s gonna to hate you, if you can’t handle dark topics in a fic, block the author it’s not hard, no one will hate you for doing that and harassing and swinging death threats to a creator because they made something you don’t like is a shitty thing to do, if you don’t want to read a certain trope or topic that’s fine, people have preferences, but trying to start a witch hunt and purity culture campaign over it is not ok. I think sometimes they do it because they want to start hate. Tumblr had a filtering system for blocking tags and yes people find a way to get around that, just block those tags too.

Fandoms are safe spaces for people who like a certain content, yes there are bad people in fandom and areas in a fandom that are filled with disgusting people, but it is a online safe space for people to enjoy the content they like. Fandoms are not for you to try and purify because you can’t be mature enough to block an author for posting content you don’t like.

HAHAHAHA THE CURSE OF BEING A WRITER

None of your characters can escape the mighty gift of trauma

N o n e

i fully believe the reason sweetheart has a problem with the cartel is because her family has some type of connection to it in the past and something happened :)

And you are correct! It's not the whole family, it's just the Mad Scientist brother. (Whose name is now Torrance, thank you anon for the lovely name ♡) He had connections with the Cartel, he didn't level with his side of the deal, and Sweetheart got kidnapped and stuff happened-- I don't wanna go too much detail into it unless people actually want to know, cause it's pretty messed up 💀💀

Tw: drugs

BUT YEAH she hates the cartel, her relationship with Torrance isn't... the best. And she's HIGHLY uncomfortable with Valeria. She feels sick if she's around drugs, cocaine to be precise. She will legit throw up if she sees any type of cocaine. If she hears the word cartel she would turn on her fight or flight mode so damn quickly.

MAN-- WHY TF DID I GIVE HER TRAUMA?!?!? THIS WASNT THE PLAN AT ALL 💀💀

HAVE A HAPPY GO LUCKY READER INSERT? CHECK

HAVE A GOOD HEALTHY FAMILY? CHECK

MAKE THE READER NOT HAVE TRAUMA?? NOT FUCKING CHECKED

CAUSE I JUST DID IT. AGAIN.

Why do I do this to any character I make. Why.

THANK YOU PARENTAL FIGURE

*raises hand*

I HAVE A QUESTION PARENTAL FIGURE

Mayhap would you bestow unto thee the glorious knowledge of what the 1fae1 would dress like?

Not because I'm drawing fae!Price right now. Definitely not. :]

I don't think they dress any special way but I can try!

Soap and Gaz dress the "best", more in line with current fashion trends. I think Soap is a muscle tee kind of guy, fitted shirts to show off his muscles, and in my mind he has those slick tech wear cargo-pants that he trades out with dark jeans. He's meant to look pretty but I don't think he puts a lot of effort into his actual clothes.

Gaz is practical but definitely on top of current trends since he dies a lot of hunting at clubs. I think streetwear is a good bet for him. I think of his hoodie look in the games, that sort of casual but put together vibe. He absolutely isn't putting a lot of thought into his appearance, he has this vibe for me that he just throws clothes on and the fit always works for him.

Price is easy. Dark warm jumpers or button downs, Witch's handmade hat, a nice warm scarf, dark jeans and a leather jacket. There's a feeling about him of quiet luxury. Cashmere and leather, good cologne and hand rolled cigars(thank you Witch). I think he dresses the same as he does in the games just without the tac gear.

Ghost wear what Love tells him to, but I think it's very military, leaning into the aesthetic of his mask. Cargo pants, neutral tone tees, heavy boots and a bomber or dark leather jacket. The man will always grab a jacket and heavy boots, maybe a zipup hoodie if he's dressing himself. Strikes me as a layers "always cold" sort of guy. I think he likes stupid tee-shirts, and has a lot of hand embroidered patches on his jackets from Love.

@hunterbunter3000

I'm so fucking feral right now.

YOU FEED OUR BRAIN WORMS SO WELL JFCBJNVRSKNVA

Yes- hi- hello, tis I, the moth that will ram into your window :3

Anyway

My brainrot for Fae!Price is so hhhhhgggnnnn and I've backed myself into a corner by crafting the idea of Witch Darling trying to fluster Price in return for all the times he's done so to her. Like- they're just doing their daily thing and Price pulls out a cigar but Witch just snaps her fingers and lights it for him and he's like "Why'd you do that?" And Witch immediately follows up nonchalantly "Pretty boys shouldn't have to light their own cigars."

And Price is fucking floored

Like- he's had experience with people flirting with him, especially debtors trying to get a better deal when talking to him, but when it's coming from Witch?

GOD DAYUM

Okay back to lurking for me, take care of yourself and drink water if you haven't already. I will find a way I to your house and bring you water if you don't <3

Hi, hi, hello! I am taking care of myself! Had a good birthday and didn't write anything which was very weird but very nice to have a break. I return with Witch and Price because I desperately miss writing for them.

I've had this idea of Witch showing up at the 141's usual bar and causing trouble and this is the perfect ask for it. Here's Witch being well... far too pretty for her own good, and Price being a terribly weak man for her. Witch's dress is based on one from 1964's "What a Way To Go" which has some of the most spectacular textile artistry I've ever seen.

Price's knuckles drag up your back as you lean against the bar to order a drink. You're not used to this many eyes on you, but it's worth it for the single pair of cool blues that study you like they've never seen you before. His fingers hook in the double line of pearls that trail down your spine to your skirt, thumb counting over every one before his fingers reach the sleek silk of your dress.

"Can I buy you a drink?" You ask him, Price's eyes follow his hand where it hovers over your bare skin. More than you think he's ever seen of you. You like throwing him off, it's rather fun seeing him at a loss for words.

"Fuck sweetheart, buy the whole bar for all I care," he presses his hand against you, spreads his fingers wide against the small of your back. Each one a threatening display of his adoration. "What're you doing here?" He can't ignore the stares anymore than you can. A witch in a fae bar, your back exposed, vulnerabilities on display, you can feel the hunger that rolls through the room. You're not as easy a target as they'd all like to think.

"Good looking guys like you shouldn't buy their own drinks, so here I am."

"Here you are," Price breathes, you like the heat in his eyes. It's hard to match him, you aren't exactly flirty. Not by nature at least, and you don't have his easy self assurance. You're confident in yourself, but not quite in the same interpersonal sense. Still, if anything was going to set you up for success it would be Price. His eyes, his touch, there's something to having his attention so fully focused on you. A room full of people and yet you're the only two in it that can touch each other.

You signal the bartender for two of whatever Price drinks, watching him pull a cigar from his pocket in your periphery. You snap your fingers to conjure a flame and hold your hand out to him. The little red flame flickering on your pointer finger dances happily as he takes your hand and holds it to his cigar. You try not to be too flustered when he moves his cigar to extinguish your flame on his tongue. The slick muscle curling around your finger, making a heat coil in your stomach. He settles your hand on his shoulder, forces you to turn on your stool to watch him press his lips to the inside of your arm.

"You almost make me wanna wear a suit," he sounds, hm, it's an admission, but not one that lines up with his actual words. Not a lie, never a lie, a rephrasing of a truth. He almost makes you want to ask.

"You'd look good in a suit," is all you can think to say.

"You look good in white," he responds, the hand on your back tugs you off your seat. You do your best to avoid stepping on his toes as he pulls you to stand, turns your back against the bar, and boxes you in. A physical barrier between you and the open room, Price's strong arms rest on either side of you, his fingers tapping the bar as you stare up at him. You're supposed to be making him flustered. You really have to up your game.

You slide your hand from his shoulder to his chest, feeling the firm muscle there, the slight give of his skin and the tension your touch brings to him. There's a tightness in his jaw when you look up at him, a flinty edge to his eyes as he watches the bartender.

"What're you thinking about pretty boy?" You ask. He blinks, surprised, and looks at you. His eyes trace over you, gaze sliding like magma over your form. You try to keep your breaths even, try not to be affected by him. When he looks at you like that you can't help wanting more of him.

Your fingers slide down his chest to hook in his belt loops, and Price draws a shuddering breath. He cannot talk to you like this. Whatever has gotten into you is bad for his health. Whatever has gotten onto you as well. He takes a long drag of his cigar, tries to keep his eyes off the cling of silk against your chest. Made much more difficult when his smoke takes it upon itself to fall over you, slide down the soft curves of your body so he can feel the shape of you.

What's he thinking about? You, always you. In every position, you.

The bartender sets two whiskey glasses between his hands, behind you. Their eyes rest too long on your exposed shoulders. Price gives them a warning growl, enjoys the way it rips from his throat, the way your fingers tug ever so slightly in response. You tip your head back to see what he's growling at and- God you are just- a tease, that's what you are. The way your neck stretches for him, the way your lips part, your back arches. He tips your head forward again, keeps your pretty little self contained and off the bar.

"Are both of these for me?" He rasps, God he hopes so, could use all the liquor he can get.

"One's mine." Are you keeping your voice low like that because you want to drive him mad? It's working.

"You even like whiskey?" He's never seen you drink, but he would bet you're preferential to something sweeter.

"I can drink it, if that's what you're asking," you twist to grab your glass, and quickly tip its contents into his. Price takes another long drag of his cigar watching you raise the glass to your lips and take a sip. You lower it with a sigh, your lipstick staining the edge. You hold the glass out to him, or up for him, as he exhales.

Oh you are sweet the way you breathe in his smoke.

Price takes the glass from your fingers and keeps his eyes on yours as he takes a drink. He savors the way you watch him, how focused you are even with your eyes lidded. He hands the glass back, and watches you swallow a pull of the amber liquor as he smokes. When you lower the cup from your lips he tips your head back with a gentle finger under your chin, leaning down to hover his mouth over yours and breathe. He feels you pull his smoke into your lungs, feels where it escapes your lips to curl over your cheeks, your jaw, soft magic to make your head spin. His favorite kind.

"You're awfully forward tonight little Witch," he hums, feeling you tilt your head, just barely brush his lips with your own.

"Trying to give you a taste of your own medicine," your honesty always hits him between the ribs, Price smiles, "is it working?"

"Perfectly," he feels your tongue flick against his lip, catching a last hint of whiskey, and his hand wraps around your neck. God what you do to him. "The things I would do for you," he breathes, you're testing his resolve. Lucky he hasn't spun you around and pressed you against this bar. It wouldn't be the first time someone had gotten what they deserved in here.

"Don't you mean to me?" You smile, he can feel the curve of your smile, so tantalizingly close.

"No," he takes a half step closer, feels you press yourself top to toe against him, "I mean on my knees, with my tongue, with my fingers, with my cock, with whatever you asked for. For. You."

You shudder against him so nicely. A valiant effort, he thinks, but how could you ever think you could beat him at his own game?