#call of duty modern warfare 2 reboot

[beescrafting]

You aren't My Lieutenant!

Chapter three!!!

By the stars I have chapters planned out, and its thanks to music (I made a music playlist for this I have a problem lol)

~~

Being cornered is not a good thing, its really not a good thing when you're facing a wall of death and a spiky haired mini-captain looking like fool. ANDDD two more appeared…

This is.. just great… ~~

Thank you everyone for the kudo's I've been getting, they keep me going. I'd really, REALLY appreciate it If I managed to get some comments, it doesn't have to be anything big it could literally just be the word fart and i'd adore it.

You aren't My Lieutenant! - Chapter 3 - Beecraft - Call of Duty [Archive of Our Own]

@tempestdivine another update huzzah :3

[rhania]

My art for the GhostSoap zine last year! I was going for the idea that Soap got really into taking pictures, so there are a few from throughout their relationship.

[occasionaleventuality]

since we learned that königs mask is a t-shirt i have only seen TWO pieces of art respecting this blessed canon fact by drawing his ratty little hair sticking out on the top of his skrungly little head. i don’t think we as a fandom are taking enough advantage of that. we need more of the hair window! LET KÖNIGS SCALP BE FREE!

[ryuzakemo128]

Call Of Duty Headcanons Part 2

Content Warning: Dark themes. Mature Themes. Trauma. Violence.

Potential triggers: Violence, themes of war, trauma, and implied child neglect/abuse (due to the mention of a turbulent household).

If any of those things bother you. I suggest you click off this as soon as possible. Only you, and you alone, are responsible for the intake of media, with that being said. I hope you enjoy.

Summary: Headcanons on Oksana's Appearance.

Masterlist / dividers / Credit (Dividers)

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part 3]

Things both twins have in common

(One) Both twins are the height of six feet and six inches tall, towering over most men and women like giants.

(Two) They both have the same striking eye colour, Icy Blue with a dark charcoal lining the edges of the iris.

(Three) Both sisters are incredibly fit and athletic, with lean muscle mass and defined features. Their years of rigorous training have sculpted their bodies into peak physical condition.

(Four) They share striking Slavic features, with high cheekbones, strong jawlines, and full lips. Their fair skin often carries a slight rosy tint, even in colder climates.

(Five) Their hair is naturally the darkest shade of black, often described as raven-black. Thick, lustrous and curly, cascading past their shoulders in a mass of curls which make a contrast in tone against their pale complexion. Often kept in tight braids or buns during missions for practicality. When they are down, they frame their faces dramatically, adding an air of mystery and allure.

(Six) Oksana's eyes often hold a colder, more calculated glint, like a feral feline trapped in a perpetual corner due to trauma and years of survival. Her features, while undeniably beautiful, carry a hint of hardness, a subtle tension around her mouth and eyes that speaks of a life lived on the edge. In contrast, Katya's eyes hold a warmth and compassion, a softness that draws people in. Her smile is genuine and infectious, and her features exude a natural grace and elegance.

(Seven) Both twins are ambidextrous, able to use both hands with equal proficiency.

Oksana's Physical Appearance Headcanons

These headcanons are going to outline parts that make her look different from her twin, Katya. I will have Katya's version in part three.

(One) Unlike her twin, she has scars on her back from her father and later on, their stepfather from being whipped. It would have been her younger sister, had she not stepped in time and time again to take the blame for the things she supposedly had done wrong, in accordance with either one of them. She didn’t trust either one of them. Ever. She never spoke about how much it hurt whenever it happened. As she didn’t want to give either one of them the satisfaction of seeing her break for either one of them.

(Two) Scars on her left leg from having her shin mauled by a dog when she was seven years old. Giving her an intense phobia of dogs afterwards. Something she never quite got over, even with therapy. Pictures of dogs and the word dog doesn’t scare her as much as it once did before. They do unsettle her to various degrees depending on her mood.

(Three) Each tattoo on her left arm has a special significance to her. Cthulhu, the cosmic entity, represents the unknown and the mysteries of the universe, symbolising her fascination with the enigmatic and unexplored.

Nyarlathotep, the crawling chaos, represents her ability to adapt and manoeuvre through unpredictable situations with ease.

Azathoth, the blind idiot god, represents the chaos and unpredictability of war and serves as a reminder of the ever-changing nature of combat.

Ammutseba, Devourer of Stars, represents her understanding of the destructive power of war and the need to face the consequences of her actions.

Xirdneth, Maker of Illusions, Lord of Unreality, represents her ability to deceive and outsmart her enemies through cunning tactics and strategies

(Four) On her right arm she has more lovecraftian cosmic horror entities tattooed into her skin.

Yog-Sothoth, the Gate of All Ways. Representing her ability to navigate through different environments and adapt to any situation. This tattoo symbolizes her versatility and resourcefulness as a soldier.

Shub-Niggurath, the Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young. Symbolising her protective instincts and her fierce loyalty to her team. This tattoo represents her nurturing side, which is often hidden beneath her tough exterior.

(Five) She has a tattoo of an octopus on her lower back, symbolising her ability to handle multiple situations at once and her adeptness at adapting to new environments. It’s something she’s had since before her military career and is a part of her that she’s always been proud of.

(Six) Prefers to wear black turtlenecks through winter, summer, autumn and spring. The entire year because she would prefer the safety of covering up the scars on her body than to deal with people's prying questions. Her outfits are mostly utilitarian and comfortable. She has a penchant for combat boots and cargo pants.

[ohgeesoap]

Soap's journal entries concerning dogs. Typed out under the cut in case they're difficult to read.

Consider me a cat man now.

We overcame ultranationalists, chopper crashes, danger close with gunships, but a goddamn dog is what'll get me into an infirmary? Rabies, ridiculous. What a waste of time. Obviously can't tell Price or Gaz. Nikolai seems capable of keeping a secret. Probably keeps vials of vaccine vaulted with manifest intel, secretive bastard.

--

And no, I haven't exactly been on my booster shots. Think Nikolai said every two years but didn't think I'd be back in Russia so bloody soon. So yeah, was happy to follow Price and Roach over the net. Not just because it meant I was far from the mutts, but because I got to listen to the two of them working together like we once did. There was the same option: take out the target or let them him pass. Nice to hear Price taking Roach under his wing. Know the effect it can have.

[applbottmjeens]

Kyle's home.

[nrdmssgs]

Masterlist

"Nik? Do you think, we could be together in another universe?" "In every single one, Nebo."

Fantasy!Nikolai x Fantasy!Zhar I miss them

[whispermask]

this is the single sluttiest thing activision could've put ghost in. downright filthy. i'm transfixed.

[boxofthings]

bro it's been 9 years activision please

[rogue--nation]

Uncommon Simon Ghost Riley (mostly for OG than Reboot) Headcanons that I find realistic.

1. Social Anxiety and Communication Issues. Simon finds it difficult to communicate with people outside his field of work, especially women. He doesn't have much experience with them and he is afraid to be perceived as a freak. However, women are usually afraid of him, sometimes curious, but keep away, feeling this sense of uneasiness, awkwardness around him. It is simply because he doesn't know how to be a so called normal person. Nothing about him is quite normal. Military has always been a significant part of his life, of him entirely. He doesn't know what to talk about or even finds civilian life boring. Every time he is on a shore leave he feels like an outsider among the locals. He keeps to himself to save himself from a conflict or an embarrassment. But if he gets comfortable enough around someone, he can be perceived as a very interesting and intelligent person. Simon usually gets rid of this anxiety by drinking. A little bit of alcohol percentage really makes him a normal person.

2. Soldier intuition and reflexes. It helps him a lot and sometimes... It causes trouble. Intuition sure saves his life in tricky situations and also this same intuition makes him read the signs wrong and cause a misunderstanding, a fight or a conflict, especially around civilians. Let's say, he casually activates his fight or flight response. Not always, of course, but there are some instances that make his life a lot harder than it has to be.

3. Adrenaline addiction. He is very paranoid. Always ready for a fight. Maybe even looking for it, looking for trouble. Civilian life indeed is boring for him for this lack of adrenaline release, so sometimes he intentionally escalates situation to let out some steam, despite being a very calm person by nature. (IDK maybe that's why he still lives in Manchester, there's always trouble).

4. PTSD. Yes, he suffers from it. Especially after Brazil and Rojas. He's been tortured psychologically, physically. Beaten up, raped, buried alive with a corpse. And he fucking survived. It didn't make him stronger, it broke him. It killed something that doesn't let him step away now. This very mission has branded him, cursed him to go on and never lay down his weapon. There's no way back from battlefield for him. He has nightmares, but tries to cope with them. Most of the time he is to tired to have a very emotional reaction to such dreams. And he wears himself down to have a dreamless sleep.

5. He knows a bit of Spanish and Portuguese. And he understands when locals speak these languages, he can read and easily communicate, but he prefers to not show off this skill too much, this is a tactical decision. The less enemy knows about you, the less they're expecting.

6. Detachment from him face. He almost forgot how he looks like in the mirror, he barely looks in it. When he thinks about his face, he mostly thinks about his mask. It's a part of him now, like an another layer of skin. The skull pattern on it is an echo from the masquerade paint he had on his face during Los Muertos. He metaphorically died back there in Brazil, died in the hands of his torturers. He is shell of a man he used to be. He is Ghost now. Phantasma.

When he has to take it off, especially in civilian environment, he feels naked, unsafe. Like if he is stripped of something that makes him who he is. It's almost an equivalent for a regular person to put on a mask and hide their face. The mask IS Simon's face.

7. Emotional spectre and control of them. He has a hard time processing and understanding his emotions sometimes. He reads anger well. Despair, too. They're common. But others, more complex states are a mystery to him. Cause-and-effect relationships of his own mind are troubling time to time. He well knows what can trigger him. And when Simon understands what's bothering him, he can develop means to control it.

The struggle to read himself, however, does not affect his ability to read others, especially the enemies. He can predict what they're about to do, how they're going to react.

On the outside, he tries not to show much, but his voice reveals his emotions in critical moments: the screams, the stutter, the growl.

8. Need for affection. Like any other human being he needs attention, care, words of affirmation. He lacks it in his life. Yeah, he is on a good terms with his team, he is stoic and self-contained, but deep inside he is needy. Physical touch, emotional connection, romantic love.. he aches for it. But his logical side clearly understands that he is impossible to love. He is a troubled man. Wrecked. No one would ever want him in their life. A burden. Loving someone like him is a death sentence. So, there's this emptiness within him.

His perfect match would be someone "normal", mature and understanding. By saying "understanding" I don't mean just being able to accept him as he is, but someone having a similar experience in life, someone, who knows how to cope with trauma. And this significant other shouldn't be a "crutch" for Simon, because in my opinion such relationship wouldn't last long. It's not about fixing him, but about showing him that things can be different if he finds other means to cope with his demons than just restlessly fighting. He has to make a choice: to keep himself in that vicious bloody cycle or finally step up and take another challenge. I don't think he can actually change, but he definitely can make it work if someone believes in him.

Yes, he can hire a prostitute and let out some tension, but he will feel terrible afterwards. If, of course, he will actually be able to get intimate at all, by setting aside all the anxiety, fear and hate he has for himself . It's easier to take care of himself on his own.

Talking about sexuality. As I mentioned, he is not very experienced and he gets intimate rarely, so at first he doesn't last long at all. He can be a bit awkward, but he is never rough, since he has enough violence in his life and for him the act of making love is about tenderness. He would never want to harm or hurt his partner in any way. He is usually quiet in bed, but can be very audible from time to time when he simply cannot control himself.

[hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform]

Kinktober 2024 Day Eleven

Uniform

Alejandro Vargas/Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

“Hey.” Alejandro turned the corner around the block of lockers, his face breaking out into a grin as he saw Rudy waiting for him. “So… what do you think?”

“Looking good.” Rudy knocked him on the shoulder, grinning too now that they were both stood there in the same uniform. “Better than me.”

“Oh no, come off that.” Alejandro admonished him, poking his shoulder back before leaning against the lockers in front of him. “We both look good. Where we’re meant to be. Going to do this together.”

“Protect our home.” Rudy replied, leaning forward into Alejandro’s embrace, his ears pricked for any kind of sound that would suggest that the two of them weren’t alone.

“Yeah.” Alejandro confirmed, his arms tightening around Rudy’s shoulders. He sighed, turning his head so his lips brushed against Rudy’s cheek. “You and me. Going to do it all.”

“You promise?” Rudy whispered.

“Of course I do. I’m not going to leave you behind.” Alejandro nudged Rudy to face him so he could kiss him. “Never going to leaving you.”

“I know you won’t.” Rudy said, but the doubts in the back of his head kept speaking to him. That Alejandro was dreaming bigger than he was; that Alejandro would work harder, rise faster than he would; that Alejandro would one day cast Rudy aside because it was unbecoming, compromising, for a colonel to be keeping a man in his bed.

Rudy and Alejandro had only been boys when they’d met. Rudy had picked up Alejandro’s back in a fight, which they went on to lose anyway, and introduced themselves while licking their bruises up on Rudy’s neighbour’s roof, agreeing that the two of them would be friends for life.

It hadn’t been until they’d grown older that they’d found more than friends in each other. Awkward kisses and touches, practice at first, as they both tried to figure why neither of them found themselves being attracted to women, that quickly became, soft, skilled, loving, when they realised the reason that was.

Rudy was almost afraid of how deeply in love he was with Alejandro. He was drowning, and Alejandro was his air, and he was terrified of losing it. Not just in the sense that Alejandro could get bored and leave, find someone else, or chose to put his image above his love. He could be killed. They both could. They’d chosen to walk a dangerous path, after all.

Rudy swallowed, leaning into the kiss, grabbing Alejandro’s neck, digging his fingers into the close cropped, military issued haircut, sighing when Alejandro spun him around and pressed him against the lockers.

“Let… Let me.” Alejandro mumbled between kisses, struggling to get the words out as he chased after Rudy’s lips.

“What?” Rudy murmured back.

“Let me blow you…” Alejandro leant back, knocking Rudy’s chin up. “Hey… you’re looking worried again.”

“No… no, I’m fine.”

“I’m not leaving you, Rudy. Not for anything in heaven or on earth.”

Rudy swallowed. “Blow me. Please.”

“Alright.” Alejandro cupped his face, tapping the side of Rudy’s head. “But we talk about this later?”

“Okay.” Rudy nodded.

“Good.” Alejandro moved to push himself onto his knees.

“Wait…” Rudy reached for a towel, chucking it to the floor. “Don’t get your knees messy.”

“Good idea.” Alejandro spread the towel out, settling himself onto it before reaching up for Rudy’s belt and pulling it undone.

Rudy swallowed, pushing his hips forward into Alejandro’s hands as he looked down at him. Alejandro looked good on his knees. He didn’t love hearing it, but it was true. Rudy raised his hand, rubbing it over Alejandro’s cropped hair, already missing the longer strands that he liked to tangle his fingers in, as Alejandro pulled his dick out. He cupped it in his hand, blowing softly on the head as he tugged Rudy’s trousers down, grinning as Rudy grew hard just from being in his hand.

Rudy grunted, tapping Alejandro’s forehead, the demand going unheard as Alejandro continued working with his hands, his eyes fixed on Rudy’s dick with his tongue just poking out of his mouth, spreading saliva on his lips as he pulled back the skin on the head of Rudy’s dick.

“Oi. Get to it.” Rudy snapped, glancing around when his voice came out louder than intended.

Alejandro grunted, but parted his lips and slid his mouth down Rudy’s dick.

Rudy groaned as he felt the warmth of Alejandro’s mouth close around him, his tongue pressing against the side of his head, carefully rubbing back and forth. Alejandro kept one hand anchored around the base of Rudy’s cock, squeezing it lightly as the other moved down, wrapping around the back of Rudy’s knee and tugging.

“Hey!” Rudy felt his knee give, and his arm shot out to steady himself on the lockers. He swore aloud, flicking Alejandro’s forehead again. “Watch it.”

Alejandro looked up at him, eyes laughing as he sank more of Rudy’s cock into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked, maintaining his gaze up at Rudy with his wide eyes.

“Fuck…” Rudy groaned as hips jerked, making Alejandro’s head bob backwards as Rudy’s fingers scratched his scalp, trying to push him forward again.

Alejandro squeezed the base of his cock in response, like he was telling Rudy to calm down and let him work. Rudy didn’t know if he was going to be able to calm down. He wanted to come so badly, to fill the wet heat of Alejandro’s mouth, make him swallow it and lick what was left out.

Fuck. Where had that come from?

Alejandro patted Rudy’s hip as Rudy fell back against the lockers, bobbing his head back and letting Rudy’s dick slip from his lip. He whistled softly at the sight of Rudy’s dick wet with his saliva, kissing the head before pushing it back between his lips and sucking again. Rudy pressed his hand over his mouth as he groaned, trying to stop himself jerking his hips forward again, suddenly remembering that it really wouldn’t do well for Alejandro to suddenly have a raspy voice out of nowhere.

Alejandro gently stroked Rudy’s thigh, moving his other hand up and down on Rudy’s cock as he continued sucking and bobbing his head, still gazing up at Rudy. He looked like he was nodding, saying, come, do it, come, it’s okay.

Rudy came, shivering as he felt Alejandro swallowing, then his tongue running over Rudy’s softening dick. He whined as Alejandro cleaned him up and tucked him away, redoing Rudy’s belt for him before standing and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“You good?” Rudy asked.

“Better than good.” Alejandro scooped the towel up from the floor, folding it and setting it back onto the pile. “You think we should go meet the rest of the guys?”

“Probably. Before we’re missed.”

“Let’s go.” Alejandro said, but pulled Rudy back for a moment longer to kiss him. “Don’t you go and forget about me, now.”

“As if.” Rudy snorted. “As if.”

[mactavishbby]

Be shocked y'all, I'm posting something and it's Call of Duty related

So, this is like a damn mixture of just BO, the Reboot MW and like the Zombies universe, kind of. It's like a mash with all three. It's just a snippet of a possible fanfiction, but at the same time, I'm kind of like holding off on actually writing it because I feel like I'm going to need to wait for BO6 to come out before I write this. Maybe I can get away with like getting close to BO6 stuff until it comes out, but like I'm trying.

So, this takes VERY loosely during BO4 which is already terrible in terms of story because it was an online mess and no campaign.

Also would like to say a big FUCK YOU to Treyarch, you fuckers aren't making my run of BO2 be invalid because I didn't shoot MASON in the HEAD, literally NO reason to even say anything about the ending for BO2, it was perfect and it needed NO canon ending confirmed.

anyways, as for warnings: spoilers for rebootMW3 if you haven't played the campaign yet, and just BO in general, and talk of death.

“Why did you never get married?”

It was an innocent question.  From an innocent kid that was trying to learn her way around the world that had shifted on her so suddenly.

Still didn’t stop Belle from looking at Lucy like she had grown two heads, just holding her cup of morning coffee in the kitchen. Just the two of them while the rest of the house slept in later. They deserved it after the missions they have been pulling off.

“I.. I just never got the chance to.” Belle answered honestly, taking a sip of her coffee, burning her tongue a little bit before resting on the counter, standing in front of the little girl, now leaning against the counter.  “Why do you want to know?”

“Because, Mr. Woods always brought you up whenever he was around Auntie Savannah, he seemed soft,” Lucy explained, going in for another bite of her eggs before looking at Belle with bright green eyes like leaves in spring. “And when you talk about Mr. Woods, you seem, sad… And in movies, that usually means people love each other.. So, why did you never get married?”

Belle listened, tapping her finger lightly on the counter top, thinking about the little girl’s words. She wasn’t wrong in the case of Belle. Speaking about Frank had always brought a sense of sadness from her due to the years apart and thinking about of what could have been, more so now that everything she tried to let go had came crashing through her glass house like a boulder.

“We never got married because, as far as Mr. Woods knew, I.. I wasn’t alive anymore, like how you thought that your mom wasn’t alive anymore,” Belle tried to explain, thinking how to put this into appropriate terms for Lucy to understand. “But the difference is, Mr. Woods never knew that I was alive, and due to my situation after the day he thought I died, we just… Never came back together, or more like, couldn’t come back together.”

Lucy was finishing up another bite of her eggs before she engaged with the conversation once again. “Like how mom couldn’t come back to me right away?”

“Um, kind of, but not completely,” Belle said, thinking more on how to explain. “You know about the Dark Aether?”

“Yeah, the magical purple stuff,” Lucy answered, nodding her head, shoveling another fork full of egg into her mouth.

“Okay, so when I had gotten shot back in 1981, I had gotten taken by this Russian science group call Omega Group; who found me bleeding in the snow while I was trying to get help because the injury I had gotten didn’t actually kill me,  just hurt a lot,” Belle started off with, quickly taking a swig of her coffee, needing the caffeine for this. “I spent four to five years with them, where I met Ravenov, before he managed to get in touch with Requiem in 1985.”

“Is this why you never went back to Mr. Woods?” Lucy was looking at Belle with a tilted head and a questioning look, like she was trying to follow along to what Belle was telling her.

“It was part of the reason, I technically was a prisoner and was forced to work with Omega Group, so I started to learn about the Dark Aether and didn’t have much contact with the outside world,” Belle explained, before patting where she had been shot back in 1981. “With exposure to the Dark Aether, I quickly lost the scars from 1981, but it also affected my head that wasn’t completely right to begin with as I had also been brainwashed like your great-grandpa was, and like Donnie, Torque and Battery when it came to your mother’s death. So, my memories had been altered and having those scars disappear had me questioning everything.”

Then Belle reached over for the leather notebook that was sitting on the further end of the kitchen island, and pulling it over and placing it between herself and Lucy. “But this did get me into the habit of making a journal… which I now have a very impressive collect of for the last 63 years.”

“What did you write about mainly?” Lucy asked, carefully taking the journal to start looking through it. It was still a new book, so there wasn’t much but there was some drawings and what not in there.

“I started with just writing small things, like what my day was like, I started sketching which was something I did rarely before meeting Mr. Woods,” Belle said, letting Lucy look through her journal, like it was no big deal. “Then I slowly started to write about things from before, such as my memories of stuff from before my brainwashing, the memories that I was given from my brainwashing, my time with Mr. Woods and the others… It helped a lot with picking up the mess of cards that were my memories, my personality and just everything that made me Isabelle Levine.”

Lucy was looking at an old Polaroid of Frank from back in 1981, something Belle had personally taken when he as laughing at some stupid joke that Mason had said while they were the only ones at the safe-house because Belle was working late and Frank didn’t want to leave her alone, and Mason was having a night.

“Mr. Woods looks old here.” Was Lucy’s comment, looking at the photo closely, like she was trying to find the smallest of details.

“Well, I just Savannah brought back Mr. Woods when he was younger, but in that photo is how I remember him always..” Belle said, tapping at the top of the photo. “… And I still look the same from when he last saw me.”

“Did you attend his funeral?” Was Lucy’s next question, making Belle pause.

“Yeah.. Back in 2027, he passed in his sleep. The smoking caught up with him.” Belle answered, looking down at the table with a sad smile. “Your great-grandfather cornered me when I went to say goodbye personally after everyone had stepped out of the church. He… He had a lot of questions and we sat there in the front pews, letting him hear my story… The irony was, your great-grandfather passed away in that very church, in that front pew that very day… He passed away listening to everything that I've done. Probably thinking that if there was an afterlife, he had something to tell Mr. Woods.”

The two of them sat there silently as Lucy flipped back through some more pages, before she found a sketch from Belle’s memory. Of another person that came into Belle’s life and left her way too soon.

“Who’s Soap?” Lucy asked, looking at Belle as the little girl pushed the journal back over and pointing at the very sketch that Belle was looking at.

“His name was Johnny, from Scotland so he had a similar accent to Torque. He was, well, he was ambitious.” Belle shared, looking at the sketch before pulling out her phone and actually showing a good photo of Johnny back in 2022. “There was a new operation dealing with the Dark Aether, and they were pulling a team together, and while Requiem wasn't active anymore, Ravenov and I still were known by very few people. So, we got sent in, so did Soap.”

“Did you love Soap like you love Mr. Woods?”

Belle shook her head. “No.. He already had someone back home, completely smitten with her, but he was the only person that I had gotten close with in a very long time. He knew everything about me, he just, kind of, was someone that had a way with getting people to speak.”

Lucy started to swipe through the pictures on Belle’s phone, looking at them closely, watching her go back to her oldest photos, then going back to the photo of her and Soap before moving forward to more recent ones.

“You seemed.. Happier after meeting Soap.” Lucy observed, going back between different photos. While Belle’s face looked the same, her hair and fashion reflected with the time, and with the emotions that her face was displaying. “Then you seem sad again, but still happy.”

“Soap died on a mission the year after I met him, he was protecting his Captain, stopping a bad guy from blowing up a bomb in London,” Belle said, sharing what she knew. “Kind of like how I stopped my own uncle from all the nukes in Europe back in the ‘81. I was sad finding out I lost a friend again, though it was easier to handle because Soap made me realize that I had to start living again, this was my life now, and I had to make the most of it.”

Belle finished off with her coffee, setting the mug down on the counter gentle, worried that it would shatter if she didn’t do so. She knew that it wouldn’t, but her emotions were making her feel that way. “Soap, never invalidated how I felt, but he made me look at what I was doing to myself. I was miserable and I kept very much to myself. That… That wasn’t who I was, but I lost so much, missed out on so much, and I was stuck in a state that reminded me of those times.”

She carefully took to her phone back from Lucy before showing a few photos. “You can see that I didn’t change much before Soap, I still looked as close as I did back in the 80’s, I was stuck at 28 and I didn’t now how to support myself with this new.. Well, me.” Belle explained the best she could. “But with Soap, I started to build my identity again, but allowing it to fit who I was in the moment and mold it into something that I could change as time went on. Which I’ve been doing. Sure, there were parts that stayed around, but there was so many other things about me that changed over the years. “

The phone was set down next to the journal, the two females looking at each other, Lucy with the ever curious eyes, while Belle stood there as someone that seen more than a life’s worth of the world.

“You still haven’t answered why you never go married. Like ever.” Lucy came back around to, completely full circle.

Belle laughed, shaking her head in amusement of this child.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t,” Belle agreed, pushing herself up from her slouched position to stand up straight. “Why I never got married was because I was still in love with Frank Woods, and I spent 63 years still being stupidly in love with him. And I will probably still love him until the day I finally die. I still love him even now that he’s back and doesn’t have the full picture of what is going on.”

“So, in a very long way, you did get back to him in the end.” Lucy pointed out, this eight year old leaving Belle even more speechless.

“Yeah.. In the end, I guess I did get back to him.”

[occasionaleventuality]

are you guys ready for todays cursed though?

🫡 😌💅Captain John “Old Man” Price is a Millennial 💫 😘 😌

your welcome babes. have a nice day.

[rhania]

I’m embarrassed about how much mental real estate Ghost takes up in my brain now. Send help.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Hello Bestie!!!

Can I request for Nik and Mini render please?? 🥺 The silly tango dabble been in my mind all day now I wanna see them dancing together 🤭🤭

Thank youuuu

Hope you like it love <3

[courtana]

CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE 2 | 6/? ↳ ''The healthy human mind doesn't wake up in the morning thinking this is its last day on Earth. But I think that's a luxury, not a curse. To know you're close to the end is a kind of freedom. Good time to take...inventory." –Captain Price