Some Poolverine Fics I've Enjoyed Recently

if you search a tag on someone's blog on the mobile app it will show you only a selection of posts in an inscrutably random order but if you go to a mobile browser and type [blog url].tumblr.com/tagged/[tag] you will get all posts on that blog with that tag in reverse chronological order. if you add /chrono behind it you get them in regular chronological order. naturally this works in desktop browsers too but i know many people are mobile only these days and the app's built in tag search is shit so this knowledge is vital to your survival

Squishy sand makes brain go brrrrrr

Drop & Squish Collection by sand.tagious

Angst angst angst (GhostSoap)

The touchdown back onto base after the death of Hassan was a breath of absolute fresh air to Soap’s aching chest. He was in pain, but was insanely happy that he’d survived the shit show that was the task to detonate that missile, fight armoured guards with nothing but glass and a box cutter, and directing Ghost to kill Hassan while Soap hung off a damn skyscraper. He was alive. And he was happy about it.

If he weren’t concussed from a hit in the head, hurt from a fall from elevators, being shot, being beaten and jumping through windows, he’d be practically bouncing off the plane. Instead, he followed Price out of the plane and took as deep a breath he could before the stabbing pain returned to his ribs. He would need to go to the infirmary, but eh, that could wait. What he really wanted was to talk to Ghost. He wanted to perhaps plan a time for them to chat after he was out of the infirmary.

He turned to Ghost with a big smile on his face, looking up to the blank eyes that were looking off into the distance.

“Hey Ghost~! Wasn’t that great?? We all did so well!”

Ghost didn’t respond. He looked down at Soap, who would’ve been a miserable sight. Cut, bruised, a gash on his forehead with blood down his face and neck that had dried, shot, burnt. Beaten in general. Foolishly, he kept talking.

“I can’t believe we succeeded on such an impossible mission, it sure is exhilarating!”

“The only reason you’re alive is because of me.”

“… What?”

“You heard me.” Ghost started advancing on Soap, who backed off, sensing anger. Every step that Soap took back, the taller man stepped forward.

“Your stupidness meant that you got shot, and you had to traverse a city alone to get to me. Why did that take you a fucking hour, Soap?? I was there within fifteen minutes! You nearly died!”

Soap shrunk in his skin. “Woah woah- where is this coming from…?”

Ghost paid no attention. “You seem to think you’re a human fucking pin cushion! You’ve been shot how many times in the past 48 hours?? Graves, Hassan, Shadows?? And all through that you don’t shut up! You’re only quiet when I want you to talk to me!”

“I followed yer orders…”

“I had to save your life twice!”

“… ‘m sorry… I thought we were friends… what about all the joking-“

“I work alone, Johnny. That way I don’t have to save people and I don’t have to be saved.”

The last sentence was spoken with such a blank tone that it almost scared Soap more than the shouting. Everyone was looking at them. Everyone was looking at Soap. Recruits too, hearing that he had to be saved multiple times, that he’d been hurt so many times over. He looked down, furrowing his eyebrows in an effort not to cry. His chest was tight, and all the pain he’d felt before was tripled. He always struggled with the feeling that he didn’t belong, but he thought Ghost actually liked him as a person. Now, he was ashamed, embarrassed, and burdened by a freight train’s weight worth of impostor syndrome.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, but shook it off and barged past Price; the owner of said hand. On his way to the infirmary, probably in Ghost’s field of vision but he hoped not, he began sobbing. His hands, bloodstained and cut, soaked up the tears and smeared oil and blood and grease all over his face. He was pathetic. He didn’t belong. He was stupid to think he made a friend, especially in someone who wore a fucking skull on his face.

(There will be more parts)

When all you do is shitpost but you somehow have almost 20 followers.

Steve: the secret to keeping your hoodies? Buy your boyfriend the same one.

Bucky, putting on both hoodies: you fool. You idiot.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!

New part!!!!

Soap!Ghost MINI SERIES Pact Maker Pt.2

NSFW. Swearing. Anxiety. Self loathing. Self Neglect. Gun Fight. Ghost being, well Ghost. Emotional Support. Angst. Word Count; 4525

Soap in inconsolable for days. He barely ate let alone slept, and no one dared mentioning work or training to him. He was in Ghost’s room again, laid on his bed, reading one of Ghost’s favourite novels; a pile of gross, snot soaked tissues on one side of him, the box whence they came and bottle of water on the other.

“… Soap?”. He looked up at the soft knock tiredly, Konig in the doorway, his head tilted with the same kindness from the night Ghost left in his eyes, “… I know it might seem silly to ask, given I see you might almost be out of tissues again, but.. Are you alright?”. Soap looked at the mountain of tissues beside his hip and chuffed, cuffing his cheek again quickly as he closed the book carefully, then gathered the mess to be dealt with. Konig helped, bringing him Ghost’s waste bin from the bathroom for Soap to dump the tissues, kneeling beside the bed as Soap then simply sat there, fidgeting with his watch.

“… I feel so empty inside, Konig. Like my whole heart is just, gone. I don’t feel anything except pain, and loneliness.”.

“… I’m sorry, Soap… As much as I like to tease your Ghost, this-… Scenario. It is wrong… “ Konig sighed, tilting his head as he looked up at Soap on the bed, “It has already been almost a week, Kleiner Habicht… I know your soul aches, Soap, but he will be home to you soon.”

“… It does ache, Konig. Worse than being shot or cut up ever has… I’d suffer endlessly life times over rather than be without Simon like this ever again” Soap mumbled quietly, bringing his knees to his chest and hugged them weakly.

“The couriers are meant to come soon… I wished to know if you would come with me, see if anything will arrive for you”

“It hasn’t been a week- Nothing will be turn up yet, Konig… I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I really do…”

“He asked I protect you, you heard him yourself, no?”

“He meant on drops, Kon. Not from paper cuts and desk corners-“

“He also meant from yourself” Konig interrupted and Soap looked at him, the German’s eyes squinted softly behind his mask, evidence of a loving smile, “Would you think your love will enjoy to hear you have been neglecting your health since his departure?”

“… No.”

“You think he would approve of such behaviour?”

“… No.”

“You think he would let it continue?”

“… No.”

“Then come with me, Kleiner Habicht… Come see if there is gifts for you, if not? Then next week, or the week after. We will check every time- every day, even when they come. And we will start to eat together, yes?”

“I can eat fine on my own, Konig”

“You can, but you haven’t” He replied softly, tilting his head the other way, and his eyes lidded sadly on Soap’s profile, “… We can cook something together, ja? Ghost has confided in me how much he enjoys your cooking.”. Soap cuffed his nose again, sniffling as he looked at Konig a little surprised.

“… He does?”

“You are to wed, and this man has not told you such things?” Konig asked a little confused, moving to sit on the bed at Soap’s feet, the Scotsman shrugging weakly.

“He has… He always thanks me, tells me he appreciates it. Doesn’t let me do the dishes if I cook” He chuckled tearfully, quick to cuff his cheeks again as rogue tears slipped over, “… Didn’t think he talked to anyone about it though…”

“He has been quite vocal, many times, about how you always make MRE’s taste incredible. I would almost call it bragging, sometimes.” Konig smiled, a heartfelt chuckle warming his chest, and Soap’s cheeks reddened shyly as he sniffed quietly.

“… He’s usually pretty quiet when we’re on missions together, or with people he doesn’t know… I thought he was like that with everyone…”

“Oh he talks even when you are around.” Konig assured, offering Soap the tissue box to stop him from constantly using his shirt as a rag, and Soap took one sheepishly.

“What? When?”

“… Usually when we are done with our missions. You tend to fall asleep before him, lay against his shoulder- He does not mind. He often confides in Ale and I many things he admires about you… Your Ghost loves you so very much, Soap… I envy your bond, and hope I find one as proud of our love as Ghost is of yours.”. Soap’s lip wobbled as he smiled, crying into the scrunched up tissue in his hands as Konig sighed, shuffling closer and hugged Soap tightly, “He carried your ring for months, Soap… When I asked him why he would not simply ask for your hand, he smiled and told me, ‘every time Soap badgers me about ‘when am I just gonna’ hurry up and propose’, I waited another week just to torment the process. I was always going to. But I wanted to wait until he’d given up, when he would no longer see it coming. When the possibility had left his thoughts. So I could see him at his happiest.’”. Soap laughed painfully at that, clutching Konig’s shirt as he shook his head against the bigger man’s shoulder.

“That asshole… That’s such a fucking Simon thing to do…” Soap breathlessly chuckled into Konig’s shoulder pulling back to sit up and wipe his face again as Konig tilted his head gently.

“Ja.. He is an odd one, I will assure you of that. But I know he will come back to you, Soap. I have heard for many years now how that man regards you in his heart and mind, and this mission will not break him.” Konig affirmed gently, thumbing Soap’s cheeks dry as he sat there like a child, staring up at Konig, pout lipped and teary.

“… Thanks Kon…”

“You are most welcome, kleiner Habicht” Konig hummed warmly, standing from the bed and offered Soap his gloved hand gently, Soap silently taking hold and let himself be helped to his feet, tugging on his boots quickly as Konig waited by the door.

“… You weren’t made to promise to keep that stuff to yourself, were you?” Soap asked quietly as the pair made gentle progress to the mess hall, Konig giggling cheekily, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

“If I was, your Ghost never made that clear.” Konig winked making Soap huff and shake his head, starting to feel a little more like himself. The other members of the 141 squad all looked at Soap wide-eyed in surprise as he entered the mess, excitement in their eyes that he was at least up and about.

“Soap-!” Ale shot to his feet like an excited child, Soap immediately hesitating and flinched as he stepped back into Konig, gasping as he looked up, and Konig’s eyes softened, nodding at him gently.

“It’s alright, kleiner Habicht… Would you like me to handle this?”. Soap nodded, clutching Konig’s forearm as he slid behind him, the other’s all falling quiet as Konig stepped in front of Soap, “If it is alright with the rest of you, just for now, Soap would still prefer less company. We’re just going to get something to eat, and will leave you to your business”. They all wilted slightly, but silently nodded in understanding as Ale sank back down into his seat.

“… ‘M sorry, Ale…” Soap mumbled quietly into Konig’s back, feeling guilty for not being ready, but Konig flexed his forearm softly in Soap’s grip making him look up.

“These people are your friends, and have worried about you so… You do not need to apologise. They know you will come to them when ready… It is okay…” Konig reassured softly like he were comforting a child, and Soap swallowed thickly as he nodded in silence, padding along behind Konig as he was lead into the kitchen. The pair cooked together in silence, a tender and thoughtful smile eventually curling Soap’s lips as he sliced away beside Konig, and the German certainly didn’t miss it. They made some basic wraps, Konig insisting they have something decent, but not to over indulge since Soap had barely eaten for nearly a week, and was trying to prevent shocking the Scotsman’s body too much. Soap hid on Konig’s far side as they left, and Konig gave the team an appreciative bow of his head as they passed and left the hall. They sat outside, nestled against the tire of one of the trucks in the sunshine, eating in silence as Soap simply stared at the horizon over the fence.

“… Thank you, for snapping me out of it, Konig..”

“You’ve no need to thank me, Soap. I had a feeling you would do it yourself in a few more days, but, when I had heard from the others they’d sparsely seen you eat, and would hear you pacing at all hours, I worried.” Konig admitted with a huff, lowering his mask fold now that he’d finished the last of his wrap and sighed, slouching lazily with a content hum in the baking warmth, “I know you would have done the same for me”. Soap swallowed his mouthful with a small smile, nodding meekly as he looked at the bigger frame beside him.

“Yeah.. I would have. This is hard on everyone- Ghost having to leave for so long, I mean.. I’m being selfish reacting like this- making everyone worry over me—“

“No-! No no!” Konig gasped, sitting up again suddenly as he looked at Soap beside him and shook his head, “No, Soap. You are hurting- hurting in a way none of us can understand, well, maybe Ale. But the rest of us-… To suddenly have your Ghost taken from you with no way to contact him quickly or accurately- It would hurt and scare me too.” Konig sighed as Soap listened intently, “You are not being selfish for needing time to process such a thing, Soap. I have no doubt your Ghost has probably already put some lesser men in the infirmary over his frustration with this…”. Soap smirked at that, remembering quite vividly the night he left and the gunman Ghost was ready to murder with his bare hands. “Our friends know you will stand with us again when you feel ready… They do not harbor anger or resentment for you Soap, they only worry, and wish they could help soothe your suffering.”. Soap’s throat tightened at this information and his smile wobbled against his lips.

“I got fucken lucky when it came to teammates, huh?”

“Lucky has nothing to do with it, kleiner Habicht… You’ve earned our hearts, so we bleed with you” Konig smiled gently as he squeezed Soap’s shoulder tightly, and Soap held his wrist in return just as firm.

“Thank you, Konig…”. The German tilted his head with a content chuckle, eyes quickly lifting as the security gate nearby was opened, and the courier van cruised inside.

“Ah! He is here…!” Konig grinned behind his mask as he stood and approached the courier with open arms and a warm welcome. Several priority folders were handed over as well as a stack of letters, the courier quick to bade farewell and leave the base. Soap had finished the last of his meal quickly collecting both their plates as Konig approached, sorting the letters into their receiving collections. Soap trotted across the small gap to meet him, looking hopeful, even if he didn’t mean to. Konig was nearing the end of the pile and it didn’t look promising, the bigger man’s eyes lidded as he check each one- but he quickly smiled.

“Konny??”

“Here, Little One… Two, from your Ghost”

“TWO?!” Soap screamed, both delight and confusion, almost dropping the plates as Konig handed the letters over. Soap snatched them excitedly, instantly recognising Ghost’s handwriting across the front, “Simon—Konig thank you, thank you, thank you!!”. Konig staggered backwards as Soap lunged into him, hugging him tightly, bouncing on his toes as he did so before turning on his heel and fled back inside. Konig was still wide eyed and stunned, chuckling sweetly as he watched Soap vanish through the doors and up the hall. Soap skidded into the mess to dump the plates, frightening everyone within, and no one got a chance to ask him where the fire was before he was gone again. Soap fled to Ghost’s room, practically diving onto the bed like a teenager, shuffling up to the pillows as he nestled down onto them, stuffing them to his chest. He opened the first letter hastily, trying not to rip it, but his desperate need to sound Ghost’s voice in his head was driving him mad.

Johnny…

First forty eight hours was nothing but travel, just bouncing from transport to transport. I don’t even think half these fuckers really know where I’m meant to be going.

Now that I’ve finally stopped, I can do this. Can put pen to paper and have it make sense, let my thoughts wander. It’s fuckin’ cold, Love- Given that’s comin’ from me, you know I’m not exaggerating.

Soap scoffed, as he thought about it; Ghost really wasn’t one to complain about the weather- about anything, really. But even in icy rain or whipping mountain air, Ghost would never comment let alone shiver like anyone else; especially Soap.

I’m thankful you let me take some shirts, it’s only been a couple of days, but opening my bag and it smells like you has grounded me harder than I thought possible. I miss you, madly, already. I’ll be doing everything I can to finish this as soon as I can and come home.

I know you told me not to get into any fights- but they don’t make it easy. Never thought I’d have to mantra ‘What Would Johnny Do?’ to avoid problems, much less fights. Guess you’re rubbing off on me finally.

Again Soap laughed softly at the thought, imagining his glowering, titan of a fiancé having to take a breath while muttering ‘what would Johnny do?’ quietly to himself, dead pan and void of emotion, bringing Soap more amusement than he thought it would.

Knew that would make you smile.

Soap hesitated when he read the line on its own, smiling weakly as he cuffed the thick tears that instantly pooled at the edges of his eyes.

Please don’t cry, Johnny. Not while I’m not there. Don’t cry while I’m gone, please. I know it will be hard, I know the others will look after you in my stead. I know I have nothing to worry about, that you’re a big boy, and you can look after yourself.

But I can’t help but worry about the man I love.

Just as I know you can’t help but worry about me. I won’t ask you not to. I won’t ask you not to think about the dumb shit I’ll have to go through without you. I’ll only ask that you try- try- not to neglect yourself over it, Love. Please. Don’t damage yourself worrying over me. I’ll be okay, and I’ll be home soon.

I love you, John.

-Si.

p.s. What you call a bear with no teeth?

                Gummy Bear.

Soap laughed. Loudly from his core, his face meeting the pillows as the uncontrollable laughter rang throughout Ghost’s room. Even worlds apart, Ghost was trying to distract Soap from the pain, just like he had after Grave’s betrayal. Soap sniffled as he thumbed the letter carefully, folding it back up and settled it back in the envelope, moving straight to the next one and opened it quickly, gasping when its contents simply fell out before him.

It was an Adder Stone necklace. Soap sat up quickly, stone in hand and scrambled off the bed, almost slipping over as he sped into Ghost’s bathroom, pulling his head through the leather cord and tightened it hastily. Soap exhaled shakily as he traced the dark stone above his collarbones, the cord snug against his skin, the perfect fit. He took a breath, deep and slow to steady himself as he squeezed the stone in hand, closing his eyes as he swallowed heavily.

“No more tears.. No more tears.. No more tears..” Soap whispered softly to himself as he held the necklace firm, opening his eyes on himself in the mirror and smiled a little stronger, clearly picturing Ghost stood behind his shoulder, giving him that small nod of confidence and pride whenever they were to step onto the field together. Soap quickly jogged back to the bed, double checking the envelope that held the necklace and he was glad he did, a small single note still wedged inside;

Only true Adder Stone I’ve ever seen. Knew it had to stay with only other most precious thing in my life.

Soap traced Ghost’s handwriting carefully, his heart aching in his chest as he kissed the note softly, holding it against his lips, wishing- praying- Ghost could feel him. Soap gathered up the envelopes, quickly retreating to his own room and shuffled through the boxes under his bed, smiling when he found one of the brand new, empty sketch books. With his usual spark of life back in his eyes, Soap got to work. He was sketching again- creating a new book for while Ghost was gone. He glued the note from the necklace to the first page, drawing the necklace itself beside it to every detail. He drew how he imagined Ghost would was sat writing the letter; hunched over a small desk with a tiny lamp, a homesick fondness in his lidded eyes, but under the correct light, you’d see the small smile behind his mask. Soap spent just over an hour starting his new book, smiling fondly at his handy work before closing it gently and excitedly dashed out of his room.

“Konig--!! Ale--!!” Soap called breathlessly as he came running into the gym, Konig backing out of his grappling practice with Rudy as Ale re-racked the bench press, sitting up hastily, “Rudy, you’re here too—Where’s Price? And Gaz??”

“His office, I think. I last saw Gaz heading for the weapons locker. Something about needing to clean his pistol” Rudy shrugged, but Konig quickly noticed the new accessory.

“An Adder Stone…!” Konig breathed, and Soap grinned.

“He found it, and turned it into a necklace for me” Soap blushed as Ale and the others admired it warmly.

“… It is good to see life back in you, hermano” Ale smiled gently as he squeezed Soap’s bicep affectionately, the Scotsman’s shoulders loosening as his head dipped slightly in guilt.

“I’m sorry I pushed you guys away. That I worried you…”

“Nah. You needed time to grieve, Soap. Being torn from the people you cherish most. I understand it- but that it doesn’t make it any easier.” Ale reassured lovingly, squeezing Soap’s neck softly, Soap nodding in his grip as Ale pulled him into a hug, patting Soap’s back hard.

“Now I gotta’ figure out what I’m gonna’ tell him”

“The truth- that you’ve been a sobbing mess who raided the supply room to hoard the fucking tissues!” Rudy teased, immediately bringing Soap out of his sinker and into a play fight, the two slapping at the other’s weak fists as they laughed, Soap finally getting Rudy in a headlock, noogieing him hard.

“It wasn’t hoarding—I’ve only used three boxes!!”

“Alright- Alright--! You’re gonna’ put a hole in my skull!” Rudy yielded, rubbing the top of his head with a groan as Soap released and straightened with him. The pair caught their breath a moment as Soap quickly glanced around to those present, smiling gratefully, his eyes softening on each individual.

“Thanks you guys… I’m better now.. Not okay- I won’t go that far, but… I’m better” Soap warmed, his smile still quaint and in truth a little saddened, but he was smiling brighter regardless. The others nodded, piling in, wrapping Soap up in a loving group hug making him chuckle like a child, trapped in the middle, letting out a broken and hysterically winded laugh when Konig actually squeezed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lieutenant, you with us?”. Ghost blinked. Lifting his mindless gaze from the floor to the team of soldiers around him. He rubbed his chest, exhaling deeply, and the scorched breath instantly fogged as it was swept away on the wind. Ghost closed his eyes a moment, centring on the deep warmth at its core before opening his golden eyes again, his cocky smirk hidden behind his mask as he straightened his posture, pulling his shoulders back as he stood at his full height.

“Aye. Just got a good feeling boys, that’s all.”. The other soldiers spared him a glance as the squad leader gave him a weak smirk, tossing his head for Ghost to share his thoughts, but all he did was approach slightly as the Helo began to swing low.

“Alright- You all know the plan. Let’s clear this facility and get those hostages out clean. Understood?”. There was a rallying cry in response, Ghost silent at the back of the pack, checking his sniper rifle was secure before following the small team off the Helo. The soldiers spread and made ground for the target building, Ghost sprinted off wide field for clear shots on high ground. He made fast time for the nearby hill, skidding straight into prone position and he was set up in seconds.

“Ghost, how copy?”

“In position. Clear visual on targets.” Ghost eyed the two floors critically through his scope, steadying his breathing as he watched the armed men corral the civilians inside. “four armed, second floor. Two stationary with the civilians, one blocking the emergency exit, the last patrolling the windows.”

“Copy. Ground floor?”

“Five armed. Three civilians. Both main and rear door guarded, each hostage held at point.”

“Fuck..”

“Stay your men on the ground. Send three to the fire stairs. I’ll take out the hostile blocking the door- clean and sweep—“

“It’ll just send the guys underneath on a killing spree”

“If you’d shut the fuck up and let me finish” Ghost snarled over the radio, the line going silent, “Line men at both main and rear doors- I drop the doormen on top floor, then the two on first- your boys take out the final three on ground pincer manoeuvre”. There was silence again, and Ghost didn’t like his orders being considered, let alone potentially ignored.

“Rodger. Out.”. Ghost took a breath and nestled his rifle into his shoulder tightly, watching through his scope as the other soldiers quickly split and rounded the building, following Ghost’s orders. Ghost lined up the hostile on the top floor by the fire door, the soldiers ready for the shot, and Ghost took it. The shot rang out, the hostile’s head painting the wall beside him, the fire door was slammed open moments after- Ghost released the casing, reloading, dropping his aim. The two doormen beneath still stunned—second shot; one was down—He inhaled sharply, releasing the casing, reloading the barrel, shifting to the final target and he froze. One of the other hostiles had thrown him a hostage, using her as a shield. Ghost’s finger trembled on the trigger case, inhaling shakily as he watched the woman scream in terror in the man’s hold.

Ghost-

Soap!

Watch the window—

Ghost hissed his exhale. Eyes hardening as he leant into the butt of his rifle.

“I didn’t let you take him. I won’t let you take her.”. Ghost held his breath and steadied his barrel, then the woman did something incredible- but reckless. She threw her head back, collecting the hostile in the nose and he dropped her. Ghost took the clear shot, killing him instantly and the doors blew open, killing the last of the hostiles without resistance.

“… Ghost. How copy?”

“Copy, Corporal.”

“Some fucking wild shots, Lieutenant. What was with the delay on the third?”

“Target compromised my shot. Wasn’t going to shoot through a civilian to get him.”

“Fair judgement. Meet us inside. Out”

“Rodger.”. He stood with a grunt of effort, expelling the spent case and reloaded his clip, sighing as he made his way to the building. The room was awash in mixed reactions to Ghost’s arrival. Most of the civilians stared up at him in silent terror, his shadowed eyes watching them all intensely, but the woman who’d fought back approached him.

“You- You saved me?”

“No. You saved yourself. Hell of a fucking thing you did just now- gave me the clear shot I needed. How’s your head?” he smirked, tilting his head slightly and she awkwardly rubbed the back of her head.

“Sore.”

“Expected. Not bleeding?”

“No.”

“Good. Ice it when you can. You’ll be fine.”. He went to turn away and begin sweeping for information, but she grabbed his elbow gently making him stop and look at her sharply, “What is it?”

“… Thank you.”. She let go of him then, bowing politely and returned to the others as the soldiers began evacuating them to a safe location. Ghost squeezed his gun tightly, swallowing thickly as he heard the corporal approach behind him.

“That the civi?”

“Yeah.”

“She okay?”

“Fine. Hell of a woman. She’d do well in the military.”. The corporal side eyed Ghost a moment then, nodding curiously.

“Huh… Didn’t think you appreciated women much, given it’s a pretty popular topic at the moment about how much you like men”. Ghost’s eyes hardened dangerously, lowering his glare onto the man beside him.

“You bring up my boy without my consent again, and you dumb fuckers can find another dog to hunt your mark”.

“Whoa now, easy there- You didn’t exactly hide it—“

“Doesn’t give you piss-stains the right to discuss it” Ghost hissed, turning to face the smaller man, and tilted his head, “Or should I even the field, Mr. Kendrick-“. The raven haired Corporal hesitated then, eyes flickering in shock briefly before Ghost continued, “- Father of three. Wife in California. Mistress in Washington. Exclusive patron of a well-known, and dare I say expensive, strip club not even a half-hour drive from your front door.”. Kendrick paled as he stared up at Ghost, his golden irises alight in fury as he stared back.

“H-How did you find that information…”

“I’m fucking Ghost, of Elite Special Forces Squad 141. If I want to know who I’m working for; I will find out.” Ghost replied quietly, both a heavy threat and warning in his tone before he straightened and turned away moving for the stairs and began to sweep the building and fallen enemies for potential information. The team regrouped and moved out, all silent on the Helo as the Corporal avoided Ghost like the plague, relaying his instructions to the pilot before they lifted off. Ghost sat in his seat, eyes closed as he exhaled calmly, gripping his rifle and smiled behind his mask feeling his ring tighten against his skin.

Crying rn. I need this to be better. It has to be better

John “thinks he’s unlovable and people merely tolerate him” Soap Mactavish; is unconvinced when Gaz tells him that he is Ghost’s favorite on their team. Vehemently denies it. He’d love for it to be true, but knows in his heart that it isn’t.

Gotta love that sweet, sweet low self-esteem that makes that sweet angst

___

A Bit Too Much

Angst below the cut

___

Growing up Soap was described as “a bit too much”. By his parents, siblings, the kids at school— He just accepted that’s what he was. “A bit too much”. As he grew, he tried different things to deal with this. Not engaging with people was his first approach. Then when people started saying “too quiet” he changed things up.

“A bit too much”, “Too quiet”, “Tries too hard”, “Thinks he’s too good for us”, “Bipolar freak”—

So he gave up. He put up a front full of confidence. This became the persona everyone knew. This was Soap, that’s how he was. Brave, facing the world with a grin and a smug comment. But even though Soap lived the persona so long, he was constantly reminded that, well, he was too much. Too friendly, too arrogant. He talked back, stuck his neck out. And when he got those looks from everyone… Well, it took everything he had to not let his mask crack.

When he joined 141 and met Ghost, he smiled and continued the act. The confidence, the know-it-all attitude. That glare from Ghost almost made him break. But he kept going. He proved himself to be a valuable member of 141. He earned his mark. When Ghost started to tone down the aggression, Soap simply told himself the man was trying to be nice considering they were going to be working together for the unforeseeable future. He had to be nice so they could work together smoothly.

The jokes were odd but considering how dark some were Soap took them as Ghost trying to remind him of Ghost’s reputation. Then the shoulder pats after a job well done— Those were always done in front of others. Ghost couldn’t show people his distaste for Soap.

One evening they were on a mission in a temperate forest. It’s been quite a bit since then so Soap couldn’t really remember why they were there. But they had to camp out there overnight. A fire burning between them, laying on their backs, looking through the trees staring at the stars. The others were passed out, and it was between either Soap or Ghost to keep watch.

“Get some rest, sergeant.”

“Me? You tell me that with those bags under your eyes?”

The chuckle that came from Ghost wasn’t like the dry, forced laughter that he had heard before. It was warm, genuine. Soap couldn’t remember the last time he heard someone laugh like that in response to something he said/done.

He’s tired, probably thinks a knock knock joke would be hilarious.

Soap insisted he would take watch and Ghost looked at him with unreadable eyes before agreeing. Probably didn’t want to bother arguing with him considering how stubborn and insufferable Soap could be. Soap knows how he is, he remembers his mother telling him that several times before he finally joined the military.

Since then, Soap would think about how Ghost looked that night. Though he was in gear, same skull mask and balaclava, faded black grease around the eyes. He looked so- so—

Soap had a bad habit of becoming obsessive when he finds a person that he likes. Someone who he genuinely loves to be around. Past girlfriends and boyfriends and friends in general called him “clingy” and some said he would stalk them. He never tried to make them uncomfortable, but when he finds that person who brightened his day just by him seeing them… He tried to be around them as much as possible. But he would be constantly reminded of how weirded out people were by that.

But Ghost didn’t give him the same signs that he was crossing the line like those in the past. Wasn’t told to back away, stop talking for moment, just leave him alone for fuck’s sake. Soap tried to give Ghost his space, watched what he said, and leave him alone as often as possible. He wasn’t sure why this man was so patient with him. His own parents never gave him this kind of tolerance. Soap wondered if Ghost, despite his reputation, was a lot nicer then what people made him out to be.

So after deeming that Ghost was too nice to tell him to fuck off, Soap decided to avoid him. The first couple of days, if Soap saw Ghost in the hall or in the room he entered, he had to remind himself to leave him alone. The man needed a break. After a week and a half he got used to the lack of companionship (though he knows Ghost was loving the change). After three weeks Soap found company elsewhere.

He would pick random recruits to annoy for a day then leave them alone. Sometimes he annoyed Price because the captain had some actually funny facial expressions and if Soap said something off putting, Price would let him know without any words. But he tried to leave Price alone as much as possible. He didn’t want to wear him out like he did Ghost.

So Gaz became his next target. After the first day of inserting himself into Gaz’s dad-to-day, he would talk about whatever with him. He could say things to Gaz that he couldn’t with recruits or with Price (his judging facial expressions were amusing but did have a impact after a bit). Gaz would engage back, which was a nice change to the hesitant replies from the recruits or the short replies from Price (who was usually working on something when Soap “graced” him with his presence).

He found Gaz in Price’s office filing things away for the man while he was away. He decided to join him, pulling a chair from the corner of the room and sitting next to Gaz. After a minute they started talking about random things. Then Gaz asked him a question.

“Soap, I have to know… did you and Ghost get into a fight or something?”

Soap was doodling on his arm with a marker when Gaz asked this. He looked up with a confused expression, “No?”

“Really? Everyone thought something happened between you two since you’re not hanging out anymore.”

“I left before something did happen,” Soap replied as he returned to doodling.

It was Gaz’s turn to be confused, “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Garrick. Man was bound to snap givin’ how much I bothered him!”

“Didn’t really look like you were bothering him. He’s been upset since you started avoiding him.”

Soap stops again, the felt tip of the marker presses into his skin. He’s been doing such a good job of avoiding Ghost and giving him his space that he hadn’t noticed how the man reacted to all of this.

“Upset? Sure it’s not been relief?”

He forced a laugh at the end of that statement but Gaz wasn’t laughing back.

“Soap, man is one wrong tone away from ripping someone’s head off. That’s why everyone thinks you two got into a fight. But you just left without any reason?”

Soap stares at Gaz, “What?”

“Soap… He’s been pissed at the world since his best friend just abandoned him!”

Best friend?

Those words shook Soap to his core. All his previous “best friends” were some poor sods who were a bit too friendly with him and Soap latched onto them, mistaking their tolerance for acceptance. He would notice after being dropped by someone he saw as his best friend that people would refer to them as his victim, not his friend. He never heard anyone referred to as his friend in general, let alone best friend.

“I’m-I’m not- He’s not my best friend. He could barely tolerate me…”

Gaz chose then to laugh, “You’re pulling my leg!”

When Gaz finally stopped laughing and noticed the incredibly confused look on Soap’s face. His smile drops and a grim look takes over.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

Soap shakes his head wordlessly.

“Seriously? You’re like his favorite person out of everyone anywhere. He likes you over Laswell!”

“No he doesn’t-“

“Man, yes he does! Where have you been where you think that you’re not Ghost’s favorite person?”

Soap stands abruptly, “Stop fucking with me, Gaz!”

Gaz flinches, “Soap-“

“Where have I been? Where have you been?! There is no way Ghost likes me- I’m just an annoying fly in his ear.”

Soap was nicknamed “Fly” as a kid by his dad, said he was as annoying and hard to get rid of as the actual insect. When he left for the military and eventually earned the callsign “Soap”, he never thought he would feel relief to be called a cleaning product before.

Soap storms off, leaving Gaz staring at him with concern written across his face. He all but ran out of the base, not caring how many people he almost ran into on his way out. He didn’t care that it was pouring rain or that he didn’t have a jacket on him, just a long sleeved shirt and some joggers on. He absentmindedly pushed his sleeve down on the arm he was doodling on as he walked. It was cold like hell froze over, which would have had to happen for Gaz, anyone, to think that Ghost liked him.

He came to a sewer pipe that they practiced crawling through with gear on to prepare for the field. But for now it was a place to hide. Soap crawled inside, finding it much roomier without twenty/thirty pounds of gear on. He curls up in a fetal position, every bit of his childhood, every moment that led up to him becoming who he was. To the mask that he wore every day. It all flooded over him.

His sisters complaining when he tried to play with them. His mother swatting him when he forgot to stop talking. His father forgetting to pick him up after school. His classmates talking about him behind his back. One of his teachers muttering “Something’s not right with him” as he walked away from her desk. His first boyfriend telling him that he was too clingy and that it was creeping him out. His first “best friend” telling him he was too weird and talked too much.

Once the dam broke he couldn’t stop the tears.

Out of all the cruel things that happened to him throughout the years, this was the cruelest of them all. That brief moment where he actually believed that Ghost liked him. That his laughs were genuine when Soap told a joke. That he actually paid attention when he told a story. That when Soap was excited about something he actually stopped to listen. But none of that was real.

Because Soap was a bit too much for anyone to handle.

Can someone do a fanfic (or multiple) where Wolffe finds Plo. And just. The cuteness that would bring. Please.

*clears throat* so what the fuck happened

I like haunted houses in theory BUT I have no idea how to react when the actors speak to you. They ask me a question and I just… answer it…

The scariest part of a haunted house is the unscripted social interaction.

The Clones as Things From The Last Week of School

Summer's coming y'all!

Rex- Those awkward last three days of school where you don't bring anything with you so you just wander around empty handed Echo- Writing in peoples yearbooks cute little messages like "omg you are so cute" and "ilysm <3", even though 98% of the time you don't mean it because you don't like or even know half of these people Fives- Writing the ultimate "My Summer Plans" somewhere and bragging about that weekend vacation to the lake your dad is taking you on in July. Jesse- Crying because you won't see your bestie for like 2 days when everyone is saying goodbye the last few minutes of the school year. You guys practically live together calm down brittany. Kix- Wearing the kickoff of your summer wardrobe to school the last week so everyone will know how HOT you will be poolside this year Tup- Some schools do an end of the year survey, and I love being able to use this opportunity to anonymously tell certain admins that they suck Dogma- Walking into empty classrooms because half of your classmates skipped but your mom wouldn't let you. Hardcase- helping the teacher take down all of the posters and playing with the little sticky tabs that you take off the back Coric- Spending an entire class period hanging out in the gym or hall because there is really nothing to do. Bly- Watching the end of the year breakups like a fireworks show, and guessing if the couple will be back together by next year or dating someone else. 99- That amazing feeling of just dumping everything in your locker and desk into the garbage/recycling when you clean everything out Cody- Actually getting to relax and talk to your teachers like a normal human being. Waxer/Boil- Field Day. Just a complete and utter waste of a sunny day pretending to do Gym stuff when in reality the only reason you are doing it is to enjoy the 5 cent Popsicle they give out at the end Wolffe- Showing up 3 hours late the entire month of May with a Starbucks in hand every morning. Boost/Sinker- Finally not giving a shit because your grades are all passing anyways and just quickly finishing all of your finals so you can shit around Hunter- Walking right into the classroom, lying your head on the desk, and putting your headphones in-every class- for the entire school day Wrecker- experiencing the "senior prank" of the year. Tech- TURNING IN THOSE HEAVY ASS OUTDATED TEXTBOOKS YOU ONLY USED TWICE THE ENTIRE YEAR, EVEN THOUGH YOUR TEACHER INSISTED YOU NEEDED THEM EVERY DAMN DAY. Crosshair- wildly hating the teacher that makes you work up until the last day of school. 9 out of 10 times this is an Algebra teacher. Omega- School selfies with friends, teachers Howzer- Enjoying the "senior walk" of your local high school as the 12th graders leave on their last day and you get to cut class early to go and wave at them Fox- LOL don't worry you will be back, you landed in summer school. Gregor- Fun field trip for certain grades for the last week of school that are a tradition for the school (amusement parks, a special picnic)