#SOAP IN A SUIT SOAP IN A SUIT

[temeyes]

have some doodlebob c/mms i drew last month!!

[arualthefirst]

Biker soap babyyyyy

[incinerated-vestiges]

he’s like a wet cat

Bonus ghoap

[kazifrost]

Velcrows

[deathblossomm]

I don't know what else to say, just appreciate this beautiful man

[aidenlydia]

He has.. a unique way of flirting

[mibgl]

🌅💀💕

[yooo-lets-go]

141 finest

[accecakes]

I'M COOKING!!! 🍳🍳🍳

Currently I am creating Fallout related merch for the Goodsprings event in November!!

So why not make a sticker sheet for the boyz 💚💚

[eggnogs-fever-dream]

Ok yeah so i got too impatient because uhhh yk. They're them. So here's this older drawing i made of these 2 homosexuals that i was gonna post tmr. They're so gay lol (they consume my every waking thought i cant cOPE)

[forestshadow-wolf]

Y'all imagine soap and ghost wrestling and soap suplexes ghost

Everyone is just stunned. Nobody knew he could do that

Ghost is even more in love (maybe a little hard thinks about asking johnny to do it again)

Whils soap isn't a small man by any means, Ghost is just a large man... he's never met anyone who could just do that to him. Maybe that one german Austrian dude from, what's it called? Kortac?, he heard that guy's pretty tall.

But that's different. That's a big dude taking out a big dude.

This is soap taking out a man who out classes him in height and weight, like it was nothing. And fuck if that doesn't do something to him.

Soap laughs at the dumbfounded faces and says he used to be on the wrestling team from 7th to 11th grade. Says he's surprised nobody knew. Says his coaches always had to move him up a weight class because he obliterated his own weight class. Says that he wanted to see if he could still do it. Says he's always wanted to do it to Ghost.

[temeyes]

he’s dressed up for today’s occasion!!

[simp-ly-writes]

╰┈➤ Status: "completed"

Relationship: Platonic!141 x Reader

Summary: Spy AU! Task Force 141 gets temporarily recruited by MI6- the British Secret Intelligence Services for a mission since Laswell owed more than a few favours over the years from you and your team.

Chapters: (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5) (pt.6) (pt.7) (pt.8) word count: 27,000 words

╰┈➤ *✧･ﾟ:* Thank you for checking in, more to come soon! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

[yashley]

"Auggie, how do you get stitched up and refreshed?" "I am going to go over to Arlo’s house."

[ghostlysoaps]

Creature/monster AU

Soft warning for mature language and themes

Soap is staring at him. This, in and of itself, isn't unusual. It's like their very own game of cat-and-mouse. Watching and waiting to get caught in the act, diverting their attention only after the other catches their gaze to keep. The switch occurs, and then it's up to each of them to decide how much blatant attention is enough.

Ghost grits his teeth under the relative safety of his mask but doesn't take his eyes off the road. He can't afford to with the headlights off even if he sees better in the dark than most – not with the loops and curves and potential threat hunting them.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Soap eventually asks, an hour and some into their mad dash to safety.

Ghost wishes he could parrot the question back at him while replacing the last word with "what.” It wouldn't work, he knows that. Playing the fool isn't Ghost’s strong suit and Soap wouldn't care to indulge him anyway. Not with the way his leg is bouncing, ears flicking, gaze as piercing as a knife between the ribs. A bloodhound who's caught a whiff of wounded prey. 

"No," is what he says instead, short, concise and brokering no room for argument.

"I think we should."

But then, Soap would argue with a brick wall on the off-chance he could win.

"Drop it, Sergeant."

Soap's face twists, canines flashing as he gives himself to irritation, eyes flashing gold.

"It was wearing my face while trying to coax ye into dicking it down, Ah'd say there's plenty to discuss."

"It was trying to get me close enough to wring my neck."

"Och, aye. Strange way t'go about it." The glower he levels Ghost with burns against the side of his face. "Sure there's nothing you wanna tell me? Might've helped dislodge that stick up yer arse if you'd let it–"

Ghost swerves abruptly, takes them off the main road to rest beneath a canopy of trees, on a path too overgrown to count as one, cutting Soap's questioning in half as the man yelps and slams a hand against the window to steady himself. The car slows to a stop and then one of Ghost's claw-tipped hands are on Johnny’s face, digging deep divots into the fat and muscle around his chin and jaw. He uses it to shake Soap's head from side-to-side. Not scruffing, but a show of displeasure nonetheless. One familiar to wolves. 

When Soap opens his mouth to protest, Ghost gives in to the urge to slot his thumb inside the warm cavern and draws a shallow line across it that quickly wells with blood.

"One more word," he snarls, "and I'll cut your tongue right out of your fucking mouth."

Soap stares at him, all wide-eyed and stricken, for a moment, just the one, before his lips stretch into a smirk around the digit in his mouth. He seals his lips over it, hollows his cheeks on a mean suckle, and then nips it with too-sharp teeth the moment Ghost pulls it out as if burnt, causing that lopsided smirk to broaden. 

"Shouldn't threaten me with a good time, sir."

"You're off your head." 

"I can smell arousal, y'know," Soap says, redirecting the conversation with all the gracefulness Ghost shows in his driving. "But not on you, can't ever smell anything on you. Drives me up the fuckin' wall." Soap shakes his head with a laugh, glances at Ghost from under his lashes. He's still smiling. "Sirens... now they don't need pheromones to get in yer head and root out yer darkest desires, an' they don't resort to shape-shifting into a specific guise unless there's a chance it'll work on their target."

"It didn't."

"I could tell by the bullet ye put through its heid. Dinnae even hesitate for a second."

Ghost's fingers flex at the reminder and Soap's eyes flit to them momentarily.

"You've a cold heart, Lt."

"Told you that already," Ghost rasps.

"Why me?"

And it sounds like begging, those two words, spoken in a beckoning call of their own, pleading for a truth Ghost is refusing to admit to anyone, least of all himself.

"You're attractive, Soap, that's all there is to it."

Soap deflates, sinking back into his seat with his face turning towards the window. Shoulders slumped, ears pinned back, as if he were a puppy expecting praise and finding a boot hurtling towards his side instead. It's jarring. Not wholly unexpected, but hell if it doesn't drive a blade straight through Ghost's aforementioned heart – something serrated and hooked sawing through his sternum to tear at raw nerves.

He should leave them there, within the rapidly growing chasm of distance he'd longed to create since Soap first bumped a fist against his shoulder.

"I knew it wasn't you."

It's the thinnest sliver of an olive branch, incapable of flowering with how slight and insignificant it is.

Soap takes it nonetheless.

"How's that?"

"Because your attempts at flirting are as bad as your jokes."

Johnny, incandescent with rage, comes back alive as if electrocuted and with slew of profanity to boot. He rants at Ghost for a solid half-hour, all ire and with no regard for propriety or rank, dressing him down as thoroughly as any drill sergeant back at basic. Anger is a good look on him. Joy is too. Emotions of any kind as long as they're far from the empty vessel Ghost had glimpsed before.

He lets out a breath he can't remember holding as Johnny’s voice steadily washes away the memory of blood in the sand and dimmed, unseeing eyes, blue as the summer's sky, staring unblinking ahead.

[peach-press]

You know what they say about bunnies, right? 🐰

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