#cod TF 141

[gremlinmodetweeker]

I cannot stress how these types of comics are my favourite. The trope of chaos flying by a calm and serene person never fails to make me cackle.

"Spring Training"

When I need to take a break from NOPA pages, I doodle in a separate file that I've mentally dubbed "what happened during spring training" and essentially fills in the gaps of the Ghoap relationship speedrun.

Some of it is silly, some of it is horny, it's all amusing (to me). I'll likely collect all the sketches into a PDF once NOPA is done.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

TF 141 and their Morning Drink Preferences

TF 141 Dump

TF 141 Headcanons

Ghost:

Obvious tea drinker

Or is it that obvious?

Painfully British of the whole lot of them

Will only drink black teas, absolutely despises herbal, green or rooibos teas

Of the black teas avoids anything floral because he thinks it’s a bit too frilly for his palette

Never adds sugar to teas, says it ruins the flavor

Will add milk to help cool a tea, but only just slightly

Claims drinking a freshly made cup of tea on a hot summer day helps cool him down

How this works is beyond me, but he claims it anyways

Thinks adding cream is a vile concept and anyone who does so should be interrogated by the CIA

Soap

He’ll drink a cup of tea with Ghost, but he’s really more of a coffee person

Prefers medium roast with a heavy serving of cream

He can’t stand adding milk, but will use it if there’s nothing else

Adds sugar when he gets a chance

Despises sweeteners and will make little digs at anyone who does use sweetener, usually citing health reasons

Don’t try arguing that adding two spoons of sugar is just as bad, he won’t hear it

As for tea he prefers rooibos, which drives Ghost up the wall

Is down for anything, really

Gaz

Doesn’t like hot beverages

Prefers either a cool glass of water or juice

Does not understand caffeine addiction whatsoever

Claims the drinks are healthier and more refreshing

People just think he’s incredibly dehydrated in the morning

Will take orange juice from concentrate without batting an eye, but really enjoys more exotic juices if he can get his hands on them

When stationed in foreign countries he’ll try juices made from native fruits

Really likes cactus and mango juice, but is not opposed to papaya

Dislikes southern lemonade with a passion, claims it’s far too sweet

Is surprisingly peppy in the morning despite only drinking juice

Roach

Whatever’s there will work

However, he tends to prefer teas

He’s especially fond of green teas

He goes on about how healthy they are for the mind and body

Also will go on about how easy they are to transport and keeps a small sachet of matcha powder (the cheap stuff) on him to prove his point

He thinks Ghost is a snob and should just get over himself

Has tried to sway the others, but they all tell him matcha tastes like grass

He thinks they’re all idiots

Price

Coffee only

Does not fuss over his coffee whatsoever

Whatever’s in the canteen will do

His one gripe is adding cream or sugar

He will only take his coffee black

Some have tried to win him over with coffees made with cream/milk/sugar, and he’ll be polite enough to drink them and thank them, but he really doesn’t like it too much

He will tell them to not fuss too much if they get him another coffee so they don’t do it again

Cannot stand people whining about how they take their coffee and how the military doesn’t give out the good stuff

He just considers them weak whiners

This includes Ghost when he complains about not having enough black tea in the canteen

Price glad to say it to his face

He could not care less about age or temperature

He’ll pull a day-old cup straight out of the fridge and down it like there’s no tomorrow

Art from This Post

[gojoidyll]

Your teammates get captured, you're in the middle of a dessert (not the super sandy kind, but the type of dessert in Arizona). You being able to escape before capture knew you had to save them, but you couldn't just go in guns blazing. And a sniper wouldn't work either. Each guard posted in such a way that the moment you shot one, another would easily call for backup and pinpoint your location.

So, what can you possibly do-?

"Ye, alright there lady?"

You glanced towards a group of travels. Each dressed in a cowboy like fashion.

"I'm good, where you all heading?"

"Down that way. Though, seems we'll be passing by some friends of yours."

The man took in your battered appearance. A smile on his face.

"Yeah, well, i don't really want to be caught by my friends, if you catch my drift."

The man looked towards someone the spare horses.

"If we help, what's in it for us?"

"A beer at the nearest pub?"

You got a lot of hollars at that.

"Alright Missy, saddle up then and get dressed. You're going to ride with us then."

Let's just say... the tf 141 guys wouldn't stop laughing when they got a load of your cowboy outfit when you came to save them.

(Graves also had a good laugh when the picture was sent to him at some point...)

[sigh-tofm]

when they come home drunk…

… price

- thinks it’s important that he loudly tells you he’s married while you steady him upstairs to bed. points to his ring incessantly, slurs on and on about his perfect wonderful wife with the big ass and soft tummy. you roll your eyes and can’t help but smile when he doesn’t let you hold on to his arm to support him. something about protecting his virtue for his wife, as if you’re not standing right beside him. proceeds to lock you out of your own bedroom when you finally get upstairs, telling you his wife will be home soon so he can’t have a strange woman in their bedroom (but still remarks on your wonderful ass). you decide it’s too early in the morning to persuade your drunk husband to let you in, so you go down to sleep on the couch. you wake up with price sleeping soundly on the floor beside you, having gone to find his wife when she never showed up in his bed the night before.

… kyle

- gets sappy and apologises for being away. loses all concept of time when he’s drunk, says he’s sorry, he didn’t mean to be away so long, he was thinking of you the whole time, the guys pulled him along and he couldn’t say no. while he’s on his knees at your feet, pressing his face to your thighs and mumbling into your marbled skin, almost making you lose your balance with his fervent apologies, you gently remind him that you were the one who made him go out with the boys because he needed to unwind after a stressful weekend of combat drills, and that he had left with them less than two hours ago. he refuses to hear and only hugs your thighs closer, so much so that you have to support yourself on the wall. turns out all he needed to relax was you.

… johnny

- is horny. almost starts drooling when he eyes you at the top of the stairs, after struggling to close the entrance door for a good minute, causing you to investigate what made all the noise. gets a wild look in his eyes when he sees you in just his t-shirt and makes you scream and giggle as he chases you back up the stairs and to the bedroom. being absolutely shitfaced, he has the coordination of a tranquillised moose and stumbles head over heels across the floor, catches his foot on the doorway and narrowly misses the edge of the dresser with his head as he falls. still, his little soldier is courageously tenting his pants when you worriedly lean over him and he gets a good look right into the collar of your shirt.

… simon

- is emotional and clingy. can’t get enough of you, won’t leave you alone. you can’t make out half his words when he’s had this much to drink (and the mancunian in him breaks out too, making it ever harder to make out the words), but you play along, smile and nod and let him sit on the closed toilet seat and talk and talk while you do your night routine in front of the mirror. so lucky to have you, luv. how could’a lug like me get a pretty one like you, luv. his melancholy statements of love become comfortable background noise for you as you remove your makeup and apply moisturiser. lets you wash the sweat and grime of the day off his face with a washcloth, closes his eyes while you massage your floral-scented moisturiser into his skin, never once stopping his little speech. ambles after you out of the bathroom, holding on to the hem of your shirt, when you’re all finished and ready for bed. his devoted mutters only let up when be falls asleep next to you.

[beloveds-embrace]

Telling Ghost/König you are too heavy for him to pick up or sit on his face, and he doesn’t say anything at first so you think he just accepted it even if your heart kinda twinged a little in pain because you know you are just not skinny enough-

Only for him to send you a video the next day: in the gym, looking mighty hot in a compression shirt and sweatpants just a touch low on his hips, and lifting a bar with ease. On a closer look? The weighs attached to the bar weigh far more than you do. And he so easily maneuvers and controls and manhandles it…

Between the heat curling in your stomach, face pink and thighs clenched shut, you almost miss the incoming text.

Never too heavy for me, doll.

[devil-in-hiding]

something something reader is a bartender at a popular little pub, and night after night you are hit on by men so plastered you often have to sigh and call over one of the guys you work with the idiots end up vomiting all over themselves (sometimes it’s worse than vomit but thankfully you can count those incidents on one hand)

you think by slipping on your grandmothers old wedding ring, it will sway men from hitting on you at work. And it does, there’s still some that try to test their luck, but the minute you flash that pearl on your finger they’re scurrying off to find their next target.

Cue four new regulars, four attractive military men that always flash you a polite smile and leave you a nice tip. Price comes in more than the others, claiming the stool near your register for himself, Ghost doing the same the rare nights he slinks into the pub. Soap and Gaz come in together some weekends, sitting themselves in front of you with big grins on their faces as they watch the game on the tv overhead.

They’re all sweet, a little cocky at times but nothing that one of their grins or sly remarks can’t make up for. They ask how their favorite girl is doing when they return from longer missions, genuinely listening as you fill them in on the things that have happened since they’ve been away.

Perfect gentlemen.

Until one night you forget your ring, having had to rush your shower and sprint out the door to make it to the pub before the nightly rush.

You filling glasses when you hear the chime of the bell and a familiar laugh fill the pub.

“Was wondering if I’d see you boys tonight.” You smile, motioning for them to give you a moment as you serve the other patrons.

When you slide back over to them, you immediately reach for their usual glasses, grabbing your cloth to wipe them off, when a hand clamps around your wrist and you jump, nearly dropping the glass as Ghost turns your hand over in his.

“Trouble at home pretty?” Price comments, concern etched on his face and it takes a moment for you to catch on, and you can’t help the little giggle that spills out.

“Oh! My ring… It’s kind of a funny story. I uhm.. I’m not actually married.” You laugh, expecting them to laugh along with you, but all you feel are four pairs of eyes piercing into you.

“Come again?” Gaz asks, voice a tad deeper than usual and you ignore the chills it sends down your spine.

“I started wearing it so some of the drunkards would leave me be, kind of forgot about it, just became habit.” You chuckle nervously, hand still in Ghost’s grasp and he’s eyeing you in a way you’ve never seen before.

“Hm. Interesting.”

[stargirlstabber]

imagine the task force 141 falsely accusing you of being a traitor to the team. knowing your biggest fear, they use it against you. water. water, where your feet can't touch the ground. water you can't see through. at first it started with waterboarding. then slowly but surely they threatened to drop you into the pool. into the dark, deep pool. even john, who was like a father to you before, didn't help you. no. not at all. actually, he was the one who stepped into the water fully clothed, dragging your crying and squirming form with him into the bloodcurling liquid. your tears blended in with it while you we're screaming, practically begging that you were the wrong one. that you'd never do something like that. but they just stood at the edge of the pool, watching their captain almost drowning your terrified self. how would they react, when they get the information that you really weren't the one...?

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Ghost: I cut my finger Y/N: I can kiss it so it'll get better Ghost: That works? Y/N: Yeah my mum used to do it when I was little *later* Ghost: I need you to punch me in the mouth Roach: Fucking finally

[vanillarosekiss]

in bed thinking of how olderbf!Simon would treat you during sex…

warnings: heavy smut with no plot, in media res, afab!reader x simon, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people!), MDNI.

Thighs spread open as wide as possible to Simon’s request, he held you locked in a mating press, bullying his thick cock into your pretty pussy whilst continuing to praise you as you moaned for him.

“Pretty girl, so good for me” he said, hitting your g-spot over and over again, relentlessly.

“Si.. ” is all you managed to say before he slammed his hips into yours again, making you moan even louder.

“Shh baby, relax. I’ve got you” he reassured you, his hand stroking your cheek as he leant down to save you with a sweet kiss, his other hand reaching down to rub your clit gently as he slowed his pace.

Your hips instinctively bucked upwards as he added more pressure to your sensitive clit, his mouth moving to your neck to continue giving you little kisses.

“Si it’s too much!” you cry, beginning to feel your climax approaching.

“You’re doing so well baby, you can take it” he replies, ignoring your protests.

“I can’t, Simon- I can’t..” you mumble between gasps and moans, his pace starting to fasten and his hands leaving your clit alone now. You shift your hips up, hoping for any type of friction against your nub due to the sudden loss making it feel unbearable. As Simon’s dick buries deeper in you, your walls squeezing tight around him, his neatly trimmed lower pelvis brushed against your clit, giving you slight solace.

“My gorgeous girl, you’re so close” he grunts slightly, his breathing rapid due to his pace.

You feel your stomach turn in delight as you come, walls gummy and tightening around Simon’s cock.

“Simon!” you exclaim his name loudly as you finish around him.

He doesn’t reply, too focused on reaching his own climax now that he’d taken care of his baby.

You feel his dick twitch inside you as his hot spurts of cum paint your walls white. His head tips back as he reaches his peak, groaning through his orgasm whilst his legs buck around your hips.

I really need a bf… get me an older man rn.

[cicadabeats]

The 2023 141 Christmas Special

[gremlinmodetweeker]

So for the third day in a row we have monster content! Anyone interested in the monster hybrid!cod au is eating good this week. Next up is Captain Price, but I really enjoyed making the Ghost one. I think he's such an interesting hybrid to work with. He's always so sad and angsty in my stories, and this is no exception.

Ghost is absolutely afraid of shifting if anyone is around. He absolutely has a history to him with handlers... Hopefully this new handler is a bit more mindful of the warnings.

@yune1337 Hey so this is the Ghost ref! I really liked making this one. He's such a big grump all the time! For... understandable reasons...

[gojoidyll]

Inspired from this one anime called "Gate" and tbh i honestly didn't like the anime as much and could never finish it , but I still liked the concept of it!

Which brings me to this

Imagine that tf 141 find themselves tasked with investigating a mysterious gate that appeared in the middle of nowhere (tbh, i think it would be funny if it popped up randomly in someone's shower). And when investigating they are pulled into the gate and find themselves in another world. They, of course, can go back through the gate at any time to go back home, but they end up stopping themselves when you freeze up immediately.

Turns out you were investigating the gate just like they were.

And they would find this normal if for the fact that they didn't notice that you were ... not human?

[itsoutrageouss]

More Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley coming into your room at night, no words needed. Follow up on my last post.

His hands are gripping your waist and your tummy, but not only that, he’s actually dragging you downwards with all his strength, pawing at you so your body scoots down the bed, onto his face, ruffling the sheets. The sounds he makes are unholy and like nothing you’ve heard. He’s always barking orders, grunting in disapproval. Now he’s moaning, nearly whining into the wet mess he’s making between your thighs, spit and slick everywhere.

You can’t even see him, only faint moonlight illuminating his bulging arms and head snug between your thighs. You still haven’t said a single coherent word since he came in, running a hand through his short hair, tugging in a way that makes his whole body shiver. He can’t breathe and he fucking loves it, feeling the stress melt from his muscles with every flutter of your hole around his tongue, cramming it inside you.

Everything is a haze. You had been asleep, and now your lieutenants stern, usually hidden mouth was enveloping as much of your pussy as it could and just slurping. Your thighs quivered around his head, feeling worshipped with the way his hands pulled and pulled on your flesh to get you closer.

He inhaled sharply, groaning in his exhale as his shoulders relaxed. You were his free therapy right now. It wasn’t even for you, because he moved up your body at a crucial second, unconsciously edging you. An annoyed whine left your lips, but he was quick to silence you with two fingers slipping between your lips, calloused fingertips pressing down onto your tongue.

“Good to me” was the first words spoken. His voice was hoarse, quiet and you weren’t sure if he was talking more to himself than to you, his eyes narrowed as they observed the way spit pooled at the corners of your lips as you suckled his fingers in contentment. It sounded almost like a surprised observation as it fell from his spit slicked lips.

You blinked up at him in the darkness, spreading your legs to accommodate his wide hips as he slotted them between your thighs.

Your hand curled around his wrist and gently pulled his wet fingers from your mouth. “Can be even better,” you whispered softly, an innocent expression on your face that he found cruel because how could you look at him like that? He had to squeeze his eyes shut for a second to gather his bearing before he looked at you again.

“Show me” he commanded lowly, lowering his chin, his expression dark and set like the lieutenant he was.

[whateveriwant]

Ghost is the type of dad that, when his kids are driving him up the fucking wall, pinches the bridge of his nose as he thinks to himself “I should’ve pulled out.”

Gaz is the type of dad that, when his kids are giving him attitude, drops them off at Nana’s house because he knows she’ll teach them a thing or two about respect.

Soap is the type of dad that, when his kids are being ungrateful little shits, takes all of the batteries/cables/chargers out of their devices and buries them somewhere in the yard.

Price is the type of dad that, when his kids are getting on his very last nerve, threatens to drop them off outside the nearest animal shelter like a box of unwanted puppies.

[beloveds-embrace]

Imagine 141 moving into a quaint little town post retirement and you’re the only baker in town. You love making sweets, breads, and desserts and own a cute bakery to show for it, know everyone in your town so these four new men who come early morning to try your breakfast deal immediately excite you because- new perspectives and tastes and opinions! It’s become a habit of yours to share bites of whatever new item you plan on adding to the menu, so the more diverse opinions the merrier in your opinion.

And you are glad you didn’t let their demeanor- big gruff men, especially the one with the black surgical mask- scare you away because they are sooo nice, calling you sweetheart, doll, birdie, and bonnie. So many nicknames, it has you blushing the sweetest pink shade. And they are all too happy to help taste-test for you, giving you lots of praise.

(Though you never quite notice their immense disappointment at seeing the little ring on your finger.)

Still, at the very least one of them comes over to your bakery once a day. Sometimes they come together, sometimes only two of them- but they come anyways and tip you every time despite you insisting otherwise. It’s a lovely friendship you build with them. But they do note you never mention your partner much.

Until Simon drops by one day, intent on buying one of your apple pies and maybe fluster you enough to turn the same shade as an apple, and he sees the bruises that peek out just so from your sleeves and the collar of your outfit. Puffy eyes, more makeup than usual, your smile not quite there…

And he understands. He knows this all-too-well. And the fact that it’s happening to an embodiment of sunshine like you? Unfair. Unbelievable. Unacceptable.

Simon gently takes your hands, squeezing them so lightly. “Everything’ll be well, luvie. Promise.” And that’s all he says.

And maybe it’s cruel of you to be happy when you receive a call a few days later, the sherrif of the town telling you your husband was found mauled to death by one of the bears that roam around the woods occasionally, but you just… don’t care.

A week later, when it seems appropriate enough, you open up the bakery again and your smile is blinding as you greet the 141 men and tell them for today, everything’s for free.

part 2

Other works + help me choose a title for this 😩

[devil-in-hiding]

the men finding farmer!reader awake earlier than you usually are one morning, scribbling in a little notebook at the kitchen table, eyes darting between your words and the calendar on the wall

“good morning, there’s tea on the stove and toast on the counter.” you greet, voice soft and tired and Price rolls his eyes.

(once you start warming up to them and allowing them to help more, they grill you about working yourself to exhaustion)

“Thought you promised to take it easy this morning.” He mutters, giving Grimes a scratch behind the ears as he goes to grab a mug. He feels Ghost squeeze by behind him, hands warm on his lower back as he pours his tea.

“I’m making a schedule Price.” You yawn, shooing Soap away he tries to snatch the last bite of eggs of your plate. “Hey!” You snap, slapping his hand. Soap looks at you as though you beat him. “Not even a little bite?”

“Make your own, you don’t even like my eggs-“

“Aye! All I said that mornin’ was they was runny!” He whines, and Ghost lightly shoves him away, stealing the seat closest to you.

“What kind of schedule hm?” He questions, trying to peer down at the paper.

“Breeding season.”

Gaz chokes on a piece of toast, Soap slapping his back quickly. Ghost’s fork clatters back onto his plate and Price freezes, only to curse when scalding tea cascades over the side of his mug and down his hand.

You watch, brow raised, as they compose themselves.

“Breeding season?” Soap asks weakly, voice tight and you look between them, tilting your head.

“Yeah…? For the animals…?” You say slowly, and they let out a synchronised groan, Price running a hand over his face.

“Christ love, learn how to phrase shit yeah?”

“What? What do you mean? It’s breeding season!”

“Lass please-“