#cod s/i
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ouuuhhhh new fandom means s/i shenanigans :3
#Im soosooosoosoooo bored at school so :3#CoD s/i#I don't selfship w anyone romantically yet so as of rn the s/i is my age#Call sign: Pyro
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[Just-a 5'9,beautiful,tall
With just one look i was a bed mes
'cause that long cool woman had it all]
"C'mon Kroshka! one last dance before you go put your ass on the line!"
"If i didnt know any better I'd say you like me Nik!, Whats next?ask me out on a date?"
"Wh-what? dont get any ideas like that!"
《♡♡♡♡》
Nik n I before we got together. Hes being a flirt (but wont admit he has feelings for me) we are in his hangar btw. Didnt feel like drawing his helicopter 👍
(Song is: Long cool woman (in a black dress) by The Hollis)
->only mutuals allowed to reblog.
->DONT REPOST MY ART. DONT FEED TO A//I I DO NOT CONSENT.
->Lovely taglist: @tex-treasures @malewifehenrycooldown @sugar-and-pearls
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Okaayyy posting my writing heres one I did today to help dialogue.. i usually dont write in this script format but i wanted to try something diff ! Also the descriptions around it dont sound very smooth cuz like IDK but just dont think im a sharty writer cuz of this lol
COD, Otter x Alex, 820 Words
Summary: Its hot af and pool time bonding yahoo also like 2 second trauma dump (gasp!)
It's a hot, humid day on the 141 base. The quarters are empty, the inhabitants instead resorting to the swimming pool outside.
Farah and Kate are chatting in the shallow end, sharing cocktails. Soap, Gaz and Ghost are cannon balling and wrestling in the deeper end, while Price naps in a chair. Alex has just arrived, towel slung over his shoulder and sunglasses protecting his eyes. He spots Otter, who is writing in a journal on a lounge chair, and approaches the man.
Otter is wearing a loose tank top and comfortable board shorts, a pair of sunglasses adorning his face. His hair is put up in a short ponytail, his braid hangs loosely. His knees are slightly pulled up to stay under the safety of the umbrella providing him shade. He sips at a virgin pina colada that Kate made him.
Alex: Thought you were a swimmer?
His tone is playful and light, standing above Otter to block the sun from the latter. Otter looks up at him from under his sunglasses.
Otter: Oh, I am. Im busy right now though.
Alex: Busy? Its 90 degrees out, what could be making you so busy?
Alex has a appalled expression which pulls a chuckle from Otter.
Otter: You know, stuff and.. things.
He waves his hand vaguely.
Alex: I don't think I do know, care to explain?
Otter pushes his sunglasses to sit atop his head, squinting softly at him. Then, he shrugs and pats the end of the chair, pulling his legs up into a criss-crossed sit to make room. Alex complies, taking a seat and leaning over to gaze at Otters journal.
Its a portrait sketch of Farah. Its gorgeous.
Alex: I didn't know you could draw.
Otter: I have a feeling you don’t know a lot about me, Keller.
Alex scowls which earns him a hearty laugh.
Alex: Okay, well why don't you tell me some things?
Otter: Like what?
Alex: How’d you learn to draw like that?
Alex’s index finger lightly taps the page, tilting his head like a curious puppy dog.
Otter: I picked it up when I was younger, it helps me focus. My mother was an artist.
Alex: What did she draw?
Otter: Portraits, too. She had the eye for it, her paintings were phenomenal. I wish I took some.
Alex looked away from the drawing, choosing to instead drink up Otter's features. His round nose, pudgy cheeks, the sharp split in his left eyebrow. The golden brown hue that haloed his iris had him drowning in it. Otter was oblivious to Alex’s current predicament, continuing to shade Farah’s cheek bones.
Alex: Why don't you?
Otter stopped his pencil and bit the inside of his cheek, finally glancing over at Alex.
Otter: Well, that’d be difficult. They’re all piles of ash now, probably sunken into the earth.
Alex faltered and gawked for a moment, Otter smiled softly.
Otter: That house burned down a long time ago. I should’ve clarified, sorry.
His cheeks radiate a pink glow of blush.
Alex: I didn't know that.
Otter: I know.
A blanket of tense silence fell between the two, before Otter reached for his drink and took a long sip. Alex memorized the way his lips moved.
Otter: Want to try?
He mistook Alex’s fascination with him for perhaps being thirsty. Alex was grateful for it though.
Alex: Sure
He took the straw and downed the last bit of drink, earning a gasp from Otter as he playfully pushed Alex away from him.
Otter: I know you did NOT just drink it all!
Alex: What? I was thirsty!
Alex laughed while Otter feigned an offended and dramatic expression of shock.
Otter: That is so rude! I cannot believe you!
Alex: Just get another one!
Otter huffed and rose from the seat, placing his sunglasses back into place over his eyes and giving Alex a half hearted glare while waltzing over to the bar. The former smiled softly. Averting his eyes back down to the page and, nosily, poking through the rest of the journal.
It was full of mostly birds or insects that had messy scribblings besides them like “saw this little guy in Urzikstan” and so forth. He also passed a few rough sketches of Kate, and the resident dog Riley.
Then he landed on two pages of just him. While most were very rough, hardly even outlined, others were complete with shading. He especially liked the small doodle of him with a mustache 2x the size of his head and a small LOL written beside it. Alex couldn’t help the pride and joy swelling in his chest. Now curious as to when Otter was able to get such accurate references.
As Otter walked back over, now with two drinks in his hands, Alex quickly flipped the journal back to Farah. Pretending as though he never saw the other pages and instead graciously accepting the mocktail.
#my writing🐛#otter🦦#cod s/i#cod#alex <3#selfship writing#selfship post#selfship#fictional other#kate laswell#farah karim#task force 141#okay to rb!
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Roommate!Simon who finds you fast asleep on the couch when he comes home after a mission. He gently enters your shared apartment, momentarily freezing when he hears the faint buzz of the TV and occasional small sighs.
Roommate!Simon who can't stop a smile from spreading on his face when he sees the inhumane position you fell asleep in, one leg thrown over the couch, the other partially covered by a blanket and your head hanging down in a position that's guaranteed to give you neck pains for the days to come.
Roommate!Simon who takes off his mask, gloves and tactical gear before gently lifting you in his arms and cradling your sleeping form to his chest, relishing in the rhythmic sound of your heartbeats.
Roommate!Simon whose heart skips a beat when you cuddle up into his chest, murmuring a sleepy welcome with your eyes still closed.
Roommate!Simon who eventually has to place you in your bed and tuck you in, a tender expression on his face as he watches you drift off to sleep in an instant.
part two part three part four masterlist
#5 am thoughts#amy writes#cod ghost#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#ghost mw2#ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost fluff#roommate ghost#roommate simon#i am still sleepy so that s why this is about the reader sleeping#sleepy team
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anything can be a drug if you love it.
#🖍's art#tried a slightly different way to render and i really like it hihihi#ghostsoap#ghoap#soapghost#cod soap#cod ghost#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#cod fanart
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he’s just a little guy
#soapghost#ghostsoap#simon riley x john mactavish#john soap mactavish#cod#call of duty#no one’s dead everyone’s happy i’m still a bloody liar#btw i don’t really think s**p’s dead i’m in denial fight me#also please make me draw ghost wearing soap’s hoodie that’s too tight for him#this has to be done#johnny mactavish#soap cod
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#I haven't updated all the transformers 2021~23's yet but i couldn't help posting this#cod#call of duty#call of duty imagine#cod imagine#mw2#mw2 imagine#König#könig imagine#cod könig#könig x oc#im into cod recently#könig x y/n#könig x reader#2023's
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simon walking a patrol in his walls w a bucket of mortar, moth following behind him whistling tapping the wall with a rlly small chisel
3. handler's manual — ghost / reader
desc: a new year's eve honeypot brings a realization. pairing: lt. simon "ghost" riley / f!reader ; callsign: moth listen to: asmr by only fire (for seoul bar beats) a/n: i like making this traumatized man come to terms with his repressed sexual attraction to his co-worker in questionable mission scenarios. he really said "i am gonna kill this man because he touched you wrong" ⇽ prev / next ⇾
Your boots are crossed at the ankle and perched on the debrief table. You lean back, flip through the mission report, and then level Laswell with a look that — if given proper ammunition — could kill.
Your affect is flat. Unenthused.
"Honeypots are outdated."
"—But effective—"
"And misogynistic," you insist as you sit up and smack the manilla folder to the table. You drop your head back, "Kate, come on—"
"You're the only fit for this assignment, Moth," her eyes wander the room; bless their hearts, the men look decidedly uncomfortable about the subject. Price is fiddling with his watch. Johnny's tugging at his lip, watching the exchange closely. Gaz looks like he's going to be skinned alive if he speaks. Ghost is silent with his hands in his lap, unmoving — is... is he even listening?
"If you're trying to tell me the el-tee wouldn't look good in a red dress and a pair of heels—"
"Oi."
So he is listening.
There are snickers. Price rolls his jaw to hide a smirk. Johnny slides a look to Gaz. Gaz presses both palms to his eyes. Ghost is staring now and boring a glare into the side of your head, wishing it was a 9mm.
You wish it was a 9mm. Then, at least, you'd be at peace.
"I don't want to outsource this, Moth, the less people involved the better," Kate exhales tightly; she can't say she blames you, she's never been a fan of honey-trapping in her own career, "It's quick. In, out. Rendezvous with the target, sweeten him up, sell the story, get the information, and then get out."
You let out a long sigh. You're thinking about it, how — sure — this is part of your job description but for fuck's sake. This sort of assignments make your skin crawl. Too close, too dangerous. Things can go sideways fast and all you'll have is the skin on your back and a knife under your skirt.
"What's th' problem, Moth?" comes Ghost's low rumble from the corner; his arms are crossed tightly over his chest, his knee bouncing, "You 'fraid y' won't look good in a red dress an' a pair of heels?"
Son of a bitch. It must be a good mood day.
You flash him a glare — you narrow your lashes and then throw him your best faux laugh. It dies flat into a deadpan. "Ha, ha — That's funny, Riley."
Ghost chuckles; it's quiet, you barely hear the gravel rasp from your spot at the debrief table.
Laswell cracks a wry smile. Price rubs his beard.
"I'll do it," you concede after a long breath; the tension in the room dissipates upon your agreement. You stand, tuck the folder under your arm, and flash a threatening pointed finger at Laswell and Price.
"But, no glitter."
"Lookin' awfully sparkly, Mothy."
You hope Lieutenant Simon Riley falls off the building he's doing Overwatch from. Actually, no. You hope he gets hit with a stray New Year's Eve firework. Then, you hope a bird shits on him. And then he falls off the building.
There's glitter everywhere. Gold glitter. Flakey, scratchy gold glitter. It's in your hair, and all over your hands. You feel... uncomfortable. Uneasy.
It doesn't help that your Overwatch is cracking jokes in your ear as you weave through the busy rooftop bar in Seoul. The music is loud; the bass rattles in your chest and the lights strobe making the crowd melt away into blinks of light.
Soap's laughter is louder.
"Wha' was tha' request 'bout no glitter?"
You hope he also falls off the building.
You can't reply — you're too busy thanking a waiter for the flute of champagne that's gripped like your lifeline. Your rings tinker against the glass as you smile and bob to the music; your eyes are busy scanning the room, trying to spot Joo Sung-Min — the son of a tech mogul whose recent involvement with some questionable political allies has raised flags in the intelligence community. He's under the impression he's meeting with a Russian businesswoman: you.
You spot the target ten minutes in — the Brit and Scotsman's occasional commentary is no help. For fuck's sake, those two cannot shut up as you lean against the bar and toss your best dazzling smile at Joo Sung-Min. It catches the man's eye.
"That 'ow you flirt, Mothy?" comes the more grated reply from Ghost; through his scope he can see you place a hand on Sung-Min's arm. He grimaces down the ACOG, "Could use some work."
Ghost doesn't know what this feeling is in his chest. It's uncomfortable. Wrong. You're smiling up at the target again, giggling, and leaned back against the bar. That dress is a right show. All leg. His scope wanders — only for a moment — and immediately Ghost grits his jaw so tight his teeth ache.
"There y' go, Moth," comes Soap's slow encouraging whisper over the comms — there's something being slipped into your fingers by Sung-Min; Soap props himself up on his elbows, binoculars trained on his face, "Almost done."
Fingers linger, your smile drags out, your face tilts up — then, Sung-Min's gilded hand grips your chin. It's tight enough to bruise, and Soap curses tightly. Ghost's finger twitches on the trigger, his sight trained directly on the man's skull.
...Then, you rake your eyes down Sung-Min's black-on-black suit and make a point of biting your rouged bottom lip.
Whatever the fuck that was? It worked.
The kiss that Sung-Min drags out of you is anything but sweet, but you twirl that data-stick in your fingers when he pulls away to release the rough grip on your chin.
Ghost swallows tightly, his pupils dilating. He lets go of a tense breath as Johnny exhales in relief beside him. His trigger finger twitches again.
...He doesn't like this feeling.
Your bitten lips are meant to insinuate thanks, and you toss a lingering look over your shoulder as Sung-Min's eyes follow you as you blend back into the crowd.
You're in the elevator when you finally chirp back over the comms:
"Get me the fuck out of here. "
You hate honeypots.
Ghost is realizing, as he shrugs his sniper over his shoulder, that he does too.
#handler's manual#ghost x moth#also asmr is so fucking funny and does absolutely RIP#YOU LOVE IT WHEN I MOAN IN UR CAR I CALL THAT A S MR.#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley imagine#ghost imagine#mw2#mw2 imagine#cod imagine
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hear me out: Gaz tummy
(There isn’t enough love for Gaz and it make me kinda sad tbh he’s so pretty)
~Valentine
oh anon, i'll do you one better-
gaz tatas, you're welcome
#you may blame the latest drawing meme that's circulating on twt LOL#ok fuck im going to bed im so sleepy HASHAHSAH I LOVE U ANON AND GAZ('s tatas.....)#answered asks#anon#my art#2024#call of duty#gaz cod#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick
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Incorrect COD quotes
Mystery
Price: so, who is responsible for this?
Gaz: I...I found it like th-
Price: I know, Gaz. I wasn't asking you.
Price *looks pointedly at Ghost, Y/N and Soap*: Who. Did. This.
Y/N *cannot handle unresolved tension*:...I did it. I'm sorry.
Price: I don't believe you. *Stares at Soap*
Soap *offended*: it wasn't me!
Price: I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!!
Ghost *did it*: yeah, what the fuck, Soap.
#S: based loosely on that Office ep#i have never watched the office but the gifset was funny#incorrect call of duty quotes#cod mw2 incorrect quotes#cod incorrect quotes#incorrect quotes cod#incorrect cod quotes#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#captain johnathan price#kyle gaz garrick#task force 141 x reader#task force 141#cod mw2#cod mwii
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Laswell: who's your team? Price: some old comrade Laswell: Price: Laswell: ...and the Sergeant? Gaz: ✨ existing ✨ Price: ....he's ready
based on this scene
#im very slowly going through the inbox and redrawing some scenes#and decided im not gonna draw ANY of the ones I received and draw what i want first#dont worry#im redrawing all its just ive been really busy with uni#gummmyart#doodle#look at the way even the SUN shines on mah boi Gaz#BRO IS LITERALLY GLOWING#he;s so pretty everyone falls for him you cant tell me otherwise#cod mw1#cod mw1 fanart#kate laswell#captain john price#john price#captain price#kyle gaz garrick#gaz bbg
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SILLLYYY :3 that one scene where graves tries to shame Gaz's hand was so funny (I'm suffering.) Soo. Added my s/I into the scene too
”Y’all ready to rumble?” Graves’ voice immediately irritated the teen, however the brunette didn’t dare say anything yet, instead glancing towards Farah as she spoke.
“This is a joint operation, ULF, 141, and Shadow..together as one.”
She and Alex both seemed oddly comfortable around someone who betrayed and attacked 141’s men, both of them shaking hands with Graves before the Shadow Company commander turned towards Vie and Gaz. When he attempted to shake their hands, they both looked at each other, then at Graves. Gaz simply ignored him, while Vie’s eyes narrowed, glaring. The teen was definitely more hotheaded and impulsive, he looked like he was about to shoot the man. They obviously despised Graves for what he did, but rightfully so.
Captain Price walked past, signaling for Vie and Gaz to follow him, Gaz followed him, however, Vie didn’t, yet.
“This better be a one time thing, ‘cause if you pull what you did last time, I’ll blow your fucking brains out, Graves.” For a teenager, he was oddly confident, blunt and harsh.
Graves only chuckled in response, while he wasn’t necessarily sure if he was being serious or not…he’d rather not find out, especially considering Vie wasn’t the only one who’d already threatened him.
“Vie!” Price’s voice barked out, catching the teens attention. The brunette quickly ran off to catch up with Gaz and Price, a huff escaping his lips.
As reluctant as Price was to work with Graves, he knew threatening him at the moment wouldn’t do any good.
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"Yes im a spy. Yes im covered in tattoos,yes I did not plan that ahead but its pretty. Shut up. I do my work well regardless"
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1-6 for the self insert asks :3
THANKS U FOR THE ASK!! Bites you om nomnom all answred for mistew otter
1. what are the basics of your self insert? name, date of birth, height, etc.?
Otter’s full name is June Cain, hes 29 and was born in a small rural town of Alaska, USA. He’s 5ft exactly, his DOB is November 16th and hes a Scorpio (if that means anything). He got his callsign ‘Otter’ because boy can that biatch swaem !! He’s also Arabic and speaks the language 💥 Otter is Trans (FtM) and doesn’t have any surgeries, and only binds when he feels like it. He joined the military when he was 17 after lying about his age and has been all over the world, usually taking private spy agency jobs.
3. how do the other characters generally feel about your self insert?
Otter is generally well liked. Hes a very compassionate and optimistic soul who’s empathetic and kind. Its hard to dislike him, always keeping the mood light and taking the harder jobs for those unable. Hes a hard worker and always finishes a job, resourceful and quick thinking to make the tough calls. Friends, partners, coworkers and acquaintances hold a high level of respect for him.
6. does your self insert have any pets?
Unfortunately, no. If he wasn’t always on work leave then he would probably get a cat or a dog, he adores animals. He didn’t have any growing up either because his parents r JACKASSES. He wants a Siamese to name Ravioli </3
(2, 4 and 5 alrdy answered <3)
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Self-care for my favorite loser
#yes the self-care includes making out with Bell#no he's not going to stop#i know he has a obnoxiously pink robe somewhere#he lived through the 60's and 70's#you don't get out of that without some fashion disasters#thank you for coming to my TED talk#was going to make some insightful mirror-image piece#but i thought this was funnier#russell adler#cod cold war#call of duty black ops cold war#cod#adler#cod black ops cold war#adler cod#cod fanart#call of duty#bell cod#cod adler#call of duty cold war#cod bell#cod bocw#cod russell adler#russell adler cod#adlerbell#adler x bell
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