#mw the thing au

[fox-guardian]

[ID: A digital doodle drawing of Curly and Jimmy from Mouthwashing as characters from The Thing (1982). Curly is dressed as MacReady with his giant hat, and Jimmy is dressed in a large parka with the fur hood obscuring his face. They are standing on a snowy cliff looking over. end ID]

~~~~

mouthwashing The Thing (1982) au just so i can draw curly in macready's stupid hat

[linkcharacter]

Thinking

a follow up

[prawns-potion-brews]

Hello Mouthwashing fandom,,,.,

A few weeks ago I was informed by a friend that a Daisuke squishmallow existed, and I knew had to draw them together. and. yes, I bought the squishmallow too, immediately after hearing about it.

(i know hes still rusty in my style; I may redraw this at some point, but I still hope some ppl like it. mrrp)

Heres a more,, recent drawing that i am more proud of, just to add to it. <:)

[bluejayybird]

Inspired by an Anya & Daisuke piece by @infohazardouz , go check it out 🫵✨

Thinking about an alternate universe where Anya and Daisuke go to college together

Anya's back for her ninth round of medical education after taking more time to study since the Tulpar returned to earth, Daisuke pursuing art despite his mother's insistence that it's a dead end career (his father doesn't mind, as long as Daisuke's happy and making relatively good decisions) (Daisuke's Cool Dad is a hill I will die on, he gave Daisuke that Hawaiian shirt, he told me so-)

Having kept in touch after the trip, they figure out they're going to the same campus and scramble to see if they can share a dorm- if they couldn't, they'd try to save for an apartment, or Daisuke would butter up his parents to see if they'd cover it as long as he's in school

Notes, books and drawings strewn across their living space, organized chaos; Daisuke would help Anya study medical terms and procedures- they'd both get queasy about some of the subjects, but power through together. Anya would help Daisuke with his art block, giving him references and inspiration for assignments

Swansea sends each of them new sneakers and other school necessities, and Curly calls to check in once or twice a week; they have monthly potlucks and movie nights, tossing popcorn at each other and usually ignoring the film entirely in favor of the company

Swansea swears he's not crying as he watches them walk the stage at their graduation, then immediately runs up the isle and lifts Daisuke in a spinning hug, all of them misty eyed and laughing during pictures

Anya starts an internship at a local doctor's office as an assistant nurse, and Daisuke takes commissions, paints public murals, and posts popular art memes online

They're both happy, finally starting to feel like they've found their purpose; they adopt two cats (a maine coon and a ragdoll kitten named Elodie and Hibiscus, respectively) and keep their apartment once they both start making their own money, walls covered in old mementos, Daisuke's art, and inspirational posters, diplomas framed and hanging above the TV in their living room

[abnormal-vacuum]

i think call of duty would be so much better if it was just a zombie game. like all of the characters could still be military men so the government could still get their healthy dose of propaganda but. like hear me out. the games start off like a normal military shooter game, then halfway through the first mission the apocalypse hits and the enemies start turning into zombies. each game could fall on a different part of the zombie apocalypse timeline. there could be civilian rescue missions. there could be a game that’s set when it first starts, then there could be ones that are set much farther down the timeline. characters could be turned into zombies and it would provide good shocking deaths. there could be missions where you have to restock / refill / find supplies. UGH. it could be so cool

[fizzigigsimmer]

Moonwood Part 4

|Part 1|

Just in case Steve somehow missed the fact that Schiller takes its basketball team very seriously, there’s a big plaque above the gymnasium door the proudly proclaims he’s in the home of the Schiller High Timberwolves, state champions!

The memo about the coach only drafting moonie guys doesn’t seem to have gotten around because Friday afternoon tryouts come and it looks like every guy in school who can tie his own shoes has had the same idea as Steve and has come out to try and earn their spot on the bench - even some guys who look like they can’t tie their shoes. He does see a good handful of moonwood guys though - including two of the guys who tried to jump him. 

The number of guys he’s got to compete against doesn’t make Steve too nervous, but the amount of people who seem to have shown up just to watch makes him a little jittery as he leaves the locker room and heads into the gym. He saw at least a dozen kids sitting up in the bleachers on his way in and there’s bound to be more by now. The bleachers were never empty at a game back in Hawkins, but everyone knew that had more to do with the limited number of thrills to find in their small town on a friday night than school spirit. It’s different when he knows people are watching because they expect the team to be good. Better than good - state champions!

Steve warms up and joins a couple of the guys who are shooting hoops at one end of the court, showing off while they covertly scope out the competition. It helps actually. Once he’s got a ball in his hands and has made a couple of shots it’s easier to relax and have fun. He makes most of the shots he takes, unlike some. This kid Hank is clearly the best though. Guy is easily six feet tall and sinks shots from half court like it’s easy, but Steve’s far from the worst. He can totally do this.

It’s fifteen after when a shrill whistle finally interrupts the sound of balls thudding against the hardwood. Steve tosses Hank the ball and turns towards the sound, and his heart skips a beat when Billy strides onto the court, flanked by Dave and Chet. Billy stops at about half court and blows the whistle between his lips again as if he doesn’t already command the attention of everyone in the gym, and Chet sets a box full of red and blue numbered jerseys on the ground at his feet.

“Alright listen up closely guys cause I won’t repeat myself. If you don’t already know I’m Chet, co-captain, and this here is Billy,” Chet gestures to Billy with a sardonic twist to his lips. Cause everybody there knows who Billy Hargrove is. “He’s team captain. There are only a few spots open on the team and a lot of you so come over and take a jersey.”

There’s an immediate scramble for the box. Steve doesn’t get what the rush is, but there’s something about the energy in the room that has him pushing forward without thinking and elbowing his way into the crush to make sure he can snag a jersey. It turns out to be a good thing, because the box empties and there are six guys left empty handed looking like they might cry.

 “Red team you’re home court, blue team you’re the visitors side. Hopefully we don’t have to tell you which team you’re on.” Chet instructs, and there’s some nervous laughter. Steve pulls his jersey over his head - he’s B3.  He’s excited to see that Hank is also on the blue team. They’re giving each other high five’s and clapping each other on the back as one of the guys who got left out, clears their throat and asks what the rest of them should do.

Steve’s mouth falls open in shock when Billy scoffs and sneers, “I don’t know, jerk off? I don’t care what you do. Scram.”

Billy being an ass isn’t the shocking bit, it’s the way the extra guys actually start to leave and nobody stops them.

“Wait a minute. They don’t even get to try out?!” pops out of Steve’s mouth before he can stop himself, and it’s like darts to the chest when blue eyes snap to him and Billy stares at him like he’s trying to peel back his skin.

“They either didn’t want it bad enough or weren’t strong enough to fight for it. So no they don’t get to try out. But you’re welcome to give up your shot if you want to.”

Steve can feel six pairs of hopeful eyes shift towards him. He grits his teeth and guilty does not meet any of their gazes. His gaze snaps back to Billy when the other teen speaks again, full of smug delight. Steve wants to be there, too much to give it up to someone else and Billy seems to relish that. His gaze is too intense and too probing.

“Any more questions Princess, or can we get on with the next test?”

Yeah Steve’s got questions. And he’s gonna ask them too cause fuck Billy Hargrove.

“What do you mean test? And where’s the coach? I’m not here to get my chain yanked Hargrove.”

Hank gives Steve a look, obviously shocked that he has the nerve to go up against Billy but kind of low key impressed too. Steve doesn’t get it. Yeah Billy’s built and he’s top of the food chain, but Hank’s not small. Six foot, wide shouldered, and muscled, Steve doesn’t even need to ask if he’s from moonwood. He just has that look. Steve’s starting to get used to it and the more he does the weirder it is to him that everyone acts like they’re scared to cross Hargrove. 

Sweaty palms and weird heart palpitations aside, Steve is not afraid of Billy Hargrove. But the dark glower Billy fixes on him at being challenged warns him that maybe he should be.

“Aww, don’t say that. You’re gonna break Billy’s heart Harrington.” Dave teases, and a couple of the other guys snicker. Those watching in the bleachers follow their cue and the gymnasium buzzes with amused sounds.

“Shut up Dave.” Billy grumbles without venom. He saves all of it for Steve as he snaps out, “Lap-ups, now! All of you pipsqueaks. Anyone who stops before I blow the whistle can hand over their jersey and take their sorry ass off my court.”

There’s some groaning but the guys immediately start shuffling towards the boundary lines to start their laps around the court. Steve hesitates for a fraction of a moment, caught in Billy’s gaze. Billy stares back at him unblinking, daring, and Steve thinks for a fraction of a second that his eyes don’t look human anymore. It’s like staring into the gaze of a predator. It sends a shiver down his spine.

He’s snapped out of the moment by Hank’s hand landing on his shoulder, the taller boy leaning close as he urges Steve to come on, explaining, “the team captains always run the first half of try-outs. It’s tradition.”

Steve frowns. It seems odd to him, especially for a winning team, for the coach to be absent for half of the try-out but what does he know? The Hawkins Tigers never won a regional title, let alone a state championship. 

The red and blue teams run laps around the court. Dave passes each of them a ball to dribble under the visitors basket and Chet catches their rebounds at the home basket. He passes them to Billy, who passes them back to Dave in between his shouts for them to pick up the pace or stop dribbling like grandmothers. 

Steve and Hank fall into stride next to each other, until one or the other has to pull ahead to catch a ball or take a shot. But they always fall back into step after, and Hank makes conversation with him. It makes it easier to ignore the burning in his legs, and the eyes he can feel digging into his back, so that Steve can just focus on showing off his control of the ball and making his layups. 

He’s a cool guy Hank. Laid back and confident with none of the usual highschool awkwardness. He kinda reminds Steve of his grandpa, which makes more sense when Hank admits he’s lived in Moonwood his entire life and has never been anywhere else.

“Really? Like not even on vacation?”

Hank shrugs his big shoulders and grins.

“What for? Got a beach if I want to swim and a whole national park on my doorstep. Plus it’s hard, you know, for folks like us planning around the cycle.”

Steve has no idea what he’s talking about or what he means by ‘folks like us’, and he doesn’t get the chance to ask because a ball comes flying towards Hank fast and hard. The other boy just barely manages to catch it, but the loud way it THUDs against his chest makes Steve wince in sympathy. Hank stumbles and his head snaps up, and Steve swears an honest to god growl rumbles out of his throat as his eyes lock with Billy.

“Stay alert ladies!” Billy mocks before he brings the whistle to his mouth and blows it sharply for everyone’s attention. “Alright game of knock-out, red against blue. Follow me!”

Billy sets off toward center court without looking to see if anyone will follow - knowing they will.

Hank mutters something under his breath that Steve doesn’t quite catch but it sounds like ‘alpha, dick-head’.

They don’t get much chance to talk after that. Billy announces that only the winning team will make the cut and continue on with the tryout.

“That’s not fair Hargrove, they’ve got Hank!” one of the guys on the red team complains. It’s this big lunkhead named Brian, one of the guys who tried to shove Steve into a locker. His pal Virgil nudges him in the side and shout whispers for everyone to hear.

“Yeah but they also have the pipsqueak. Harrington will be an easy out.” 

“Not as easy as your mother Sanchez. I’d watch how I was running my mouth if I were you.” Billy drawls in reply. Not even a snap or a bark, but still there’s something in it, like a growl, that makes the hair on Steve’s arms raise and his throat feel tight like there’s a hand squeezing the back of his neck. And he can tell it’s not just him by the way Virgil and Brian immediately clam up and avert their eyes. 

The game starts, one player from each team taking a shot from the key line at the same time until one of them makes a basket. It’s up to the next player on their team to try and out hoop the opposing player and knock him out. The last team standing wins.

Steve tries to just have fun with it, but pretty soon it’s a whirlwhind. Steve’s ears are full of the sound of pounding feet and his frantic heartbeat. A strange electric rush fills his blood as the competition heats up, the stands alive with cheers and heckling as the game becomes a chaotic scramble to try and stay one step ahead of the guy in front of him. It’s dizzying. Steve can barely focus and Billy doesn’t help.

If it’s not - “What was that? Come on Harrington! My little sister could have made that shot with her eyes closed.”

Then it’s - “You’re damn lucky Reeves has got his head up his ass today Pretty Boy. You’d be out if you were shooting against anyone else!”

Fuck you, man. Steve thinks more than once. Nearly says a couple of times. Has to bite his tongue to keep the words in when they are three blue and two red and his first shot falls off the rim and he’s a hair too slow on the rebound.

“You’re out!” Billy snaps before the red player’s ball has even made it completely through the net. “You deserved that Harrington. You call that a hustle?”

Steve calls this cruel and unusual punishment actually. He has sweated through his shirt, his face is flushed, and his chest is itchy with heat. He’s got the strangest urge to march up to Hargrove and sink his teeth into him.

He can just imagine his mom’s humiliation if she gets called to the school because ‘Stevie bit another boy’ like this is the second grade all over again. And then he remembers that he’s eighteen and technically an adult and he could get sued or worse, and keeps his teeth to himself.

Even without him the blue team wins, largely thanks to Hank. While the rest of his teammates celebrate, Steve can’t help but feel a little glum. The hour is ending, the coach never showed and he knows there’s no way in hell he’s making the cut. Not after the way Billy rode his ass the entire time. He’s kinda bummed about it because despite everything he had fun. It was challenging, but in a good way. Like it made him wake up or something. There’s something about this place that makes Steve feel more alive.

After the red players have filed off the court in defeat, Billy, Dave, and Chet have the blue team line up and congratulate them on their win.

“Really good job guys. We saw some great stuff out there today.” Chet praises and the tension in the room releases. Steve can feel the way the other guys start to relax, chests puffing out with pride and trading tired grins.

“The good news is, all of you are moving on.” Dave leads and Steve jolts. He can’t believe he heard that right. Does this mean he’s on the team?

“The bad news is that means you’re going to have to spend a week smelling each other's farts.” Billy adds dryly and some of the guys chuckle.

Steve frowns in confusion. He doesn’t understand. The try-out isn’t over? And what does he mean they’ll have to spend a week smelling each other’s farts? 

As if he can hear Steve’s brain racing Hank leans down and whispers, “The basketball team goes on a retreat at the beginning of the year. It’s like boot camp. Coach will finalize the roster after the retreat.”

“They let the basketball team take a whole week off school to go camping?” Steve asks a little weirded out. It just seems unusual to him, but this wouldn’t be the first example of special treatment he’s witnessed the basketball team getting.

Hank nods.

“The volleyball and soccer teams too. Though the soccer teams go in spring. Don’t worry. Most of the teachers will give you your assignments in advance so you don’t fall behind.”

Steve supposes that makes sense since it was early in the semester. And he supposes when the athletic teams are actually good, the school sees it as an investment in the students' futures. He’s willing to bet there is a lot of scholarship money to go around for state champions.

“Basketball camp is mandatory for the entire team, not just the rookies.” Chet explains to the group. “Dave is passing around a permission slip. Your parents need to sign it for you to get on the bus.”

“The bus leaves at seven A.M. sharp Sunday morning. If you’re not on it, tough titties.” Billy finishes. 

Sunday morning…right after the bonfire.

|PART 5|

Friendly Tags for those who expressed interest: @darleenjade @sweetwaterangel @dragonflylady77 @natchula @tip-tap-tired @sparklingsprinkles @adelacreations @bluetree76 @deadfromtheneckdown @heavensfinest @marklee-blackmore @slightlydepressedmelon

[salstray]

Luck of the Draw - part 1

Ghost x fem!Reader - Left 4 Dead/Cod AU

This story is written in first person. I understand that some people don't like first person reader inserts, so if you are one of them, please just keep on scrolling! And if the thought of a left 4 dead/cod au sounds fun, but this one doesn't appeal to you? Feel free to write your own! Or request it from a favorite author, as long as they are open for requests and au ideas~

--

Warnings: None in this part. Its really just a meet cute with guns <3

Words: lil over 2k!

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Part 2

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Weirdly enough, it's not the zombies you really have to worry about during a zombie apocalypse. They become the norm after a few weeks. You learn the difference between the show, shuffling, dragging gait of a reborn corpse over the quick, smart steps of the real enemy. It’s not the growls or vaguely pained moans of mindless hunger that make your heart beat faster and your lungs burn as you hold your breath and listen as carefully as you can. It’s the voices. The words. After being alone for so long, you’d think I’d be excited to find another person; living and breathing. Real. But I wasn’t.

In fact, I felt nothing but pure fear at the sound of a human’s voice. A man’s voice. Deep. Rumbling. Accented. Close. 

I was in a house. A two story suburban home with an attic, which I was currently hiding in, tucked behind a box that held dusty baseball trophies for someone named Michael, my salvaged rifle clenched between my fingers. My knuckles were tight and my palms were sweaty. I was on one knee, the barrel aimed right at the hatch that led down into the hallway. The drawstring was broken and I’d brought the stick I used to yank it down up here with me and there was a good chance, a great chance even, that whoever the fuck was down there wouldn’t even see the thin line that separated it from the rest of the ceiling, yet I still sat there. Dead silent. Waiting.

His steps were light. It had been the creak of the stairs that gave him away and the quiet growl of his voice that had sent my heart racing. And it was the very clear statement that I heard a few seconds after the panic started to fade that brought all the adrenaline back with a vengeance.

“There’s an attic.” 

Then another voice. Not as deep. Accented differently. 

“No string or anythin’. Can’t pull it down.” 

A few moments of silence followed. I shifted in place, my legs starting to ache from my half crouch. Then there was a loud BANG and I flinched and yelped in surprise as I watched the ladder rattle in place, sending dust up into the air. 

I cursed myself silently and stood up, backing up towards the round window behind me, the barrel of my gun locked on the ladder and the butt of it secure against my shoulder.

“Somethin’s up there,” the second voice said. Quieter than before, but not quiet enough for me to miss. 

“Someone,” the first voice corrected. “Not infected. Would have been screamin’ to hell and back by now.” Another bang against the ladder. Then a third. Knocking, this time. “Oi! Alive up there?”

I didn’t respond. My head turned and my eyes flickered over my shoulder, towards the window. It led to the backyard. Last I’d checked it had been empty, but the zombies shambled wherever they wanted, without care or reason. If the fall broke something, twisted something, I’d be nothing more but meat and memory by the time I got myself together. 

But I couldn’t risk whoever was down there. I couldn’t. It wasn’t a fucking option.

“Could be hurt,” the second voice said softly. 

“Could be waitin’ to blow our heads off.”

I curled my finger around the trigger of my gun, trying to keep my breathing steady and my aim straight. 

“You try, Johnny.”

“What makes you think they'll answer me?” The second voice, Johnny, asked.

“Worth a shot.” 

There was some muttering. A deep sigh. Then a knock on the ladder again. Softer than before. 

“Anyone up there?” Johnny called softly. 

Against my better judgment, I raised my eyes from the sights and licked my lips, opening them a second later to call back to him.

“Fuck off!” 

Another moment of silence.

“Well, they’re alive,” Johnny said, sounding amused. Then he turned his voice back to me. “We don’t want any trouble-” he started, prompting me to speak again.

“Then go the fuck away, otherwise you’ll get it if you want it or not!” 

…more silence.

Then, to my absolute horror, the ladder rattled, then dropped, opening the path down to the hallway. 

I took a few steps back towards the window, my chest heaving as I put my eyes back down to the sights, every inch of my body shaking, leaving my gun unsteady, but still lethal.

“I will fucking shoot you if you come up that ladder!” The trembling showed in my voice, yet I didn’t back down. I could and would follow through on my threat if they tried anything. 

“We don’t want to hurt you, lass, we just want to help-”

“I don’t give a singular fuck what you want! I want you to go away!” 

“We’re military,” my brow furrowed and Johnny took the second of answering silence as a sign to continue. “Lookin’ for survivors to take to a secure base outside the city.” 

“Think I’m just gonna believe that?” I snapped.

“You might, if you let us come up.” 

They’d be cornering me and they knew that. There was no way they didn’t. I glanced behind me again and leaned back to peek out of the window. The yard was still clear, but that fall would still suck massive ass if I had to risk it. And, depending on if I broke anything, it would give these two plenty of time to come grab me from the ground and kill me anyway, if that was even their plan.

Still, it wasn’t like they’d let me come down. Back up and give me space to escape if I needed it… my only options were to either say yes and kill one of them on their way up and jump out the window, or kill one of them after they came up and leap out the window if the second one didn’t shoot me the second I shot his friend. 

I sighed heavily. 

“What’s it gonna be?” The first voice asked. “We haven’t got all day.” 

Rude bitch. Not like I’m just weighing the options of my fucking survival here.

“Give her a minute, Lt.” Lt? The fuck kind of nickname was that?

I sighed again.

“Fine… but if either of you makes a single fucking move that I don't like-”

“Aye, no need to worry! We’ll keep our hands up, right where you can see ‘em!” Johnny’s smile was clear as day in his voice and it was just as bright as I expected it to be when his face followed the sight of his raised hands. 

He was in a short sleeved shirt and a sort of tactical vest. A radio rested on his left shoulder and a rifle was hanging from a strap across his back. From here I could see a Union Jack against his chest, causing me to raise a brow. 

Johnny’s hair was short. Brown. Cut into a slicked back mohawk on his head. The sides of it were surprisingly neat, which meant he’d probably had them shaved down recently, which meant they, at the very least, weren’t lying about having a base somewhere. Military or not, I still wasn’t sure, but knowing part of what they said was the truth was… at least a little reassuring.

The sight of his friend was less reassuring. 

Johnny didn’t move from beside the ladder. He kept his hands in the air, in sight and away from his weapons, as the enormous figure of Lt climbed into view. 

This one was dressed in all black. Long sleeved shirt, gloves, jeans. A mask. The same vest as Johnny, with the radio and the rifle, but I spotted a handful of extra little bits and bobs in all his pouches and along his belt. Knives, ammo, fucking grenades. 

I didn’t pull my finger off the trigger and decided to keep it trained on Lt. Something he was probably used to, what with the skull face printed on his balaclava and all.

“Well?” Johnny said, his head tilting and his smile growing lopsided. “Believe us?”

“You look the part,” I muttered. The thigh holsters and everything really did make them look legit, but still- “Wouldn’t put it above anyone to pull that shit off a corpse, though. Not these days.” 

Johnny shook his head. “Can’t blame you for that. What’s your name, lass?”

“Your's first.” 

He and his friend shared a look. Then he nodded a few times and used his right hand to gesture to himself. “John MacTavish. Call me Soap.” My brow furrowed again, but I let him keep going as he motioned to the masked man. “That’s Simon Riley. My Lieutenant. He goes by Ghost.” Ah, that made Lt make sense. 

“Fitting,” I muttered, my gaze flickering over him. 

“Your turn,” Ghost said. He stared back at me, his eyes half lidded, not even looking slightly worried that I had a gun pointed directly at his face. 

I took a deep breath, momentarily considering lying or just pulling the fucking trigger on Ghost… but there was really no reason to hide that kind of stuff anymore and Soap seemed nice at least…

If I die, I die. Honestly, it would be a fucking blessing to get out of this nightmare-

So I gave it to them. Just my first name, nothing else.

“No last name?” Soap asked.

“Not one I feel like using anymore. Family’s all dead anyway.” 

They both shared a look. Then Soap started to lower his hands and I twisted, turning the barrel of my gun on him and making him freeze.

“Hey now,” he said slowly, raising them back into place. “Like I said, we don’t want trouble. Just want to help.”

“Said you have a base outside the city, too,” I stated. My gun didn’t move from its new target, however I risked a look at Ghost. “How far?”

“Few days walk,” Ghost replied. “As long as things keep quiet.” 

“Few days?”

“Been four, with the two of us,” Soap supplied. “Might take a bit longer with us three, if you come with, but you’re still welcome. Military’s been sending out pairs and packs to round up whoever is left and get them somewhere safe.” 

“Haven’t found anyone else?” I asked quietly. 

“No one as friendly as you,” Soap said, his smile coming back with a vengeance. I hummed and narrowed my eyes at him, but I pulled my finger off the trigger and, ever so slowly, lowered my gun. Both of them visibly relaxed and Ghost set one hand on his own rifle as Soap let his hands fall to his sides. “So… gonna come along? There’s plenty of beds, a little farm they’re using to keep people sustained. Hot water.” 

“Tempting,” I mumbled. “How many people do they have up there?”

“Not as many as they'd hoped for,” Ghost rumbled. 

“Means there’s plenty of food, though.” Soap was definitely a glass half full kinda guy. Couldn’t tell anything about Ghost, yet. 

“How much farther did you guys plan to go?”

Soap shrugged. “Depends entirely on how many people we managed to find. Why? Wanna come help us be heroes?” Ghost turned his half-lidded gaze on Soap and I watched his eyes narrow for a second before he looked back over to me. 

“Don’t know about being a hero, but…,” I shrugged a single shoulder. “Seems kinda wasteful to come out so far just to go back with one person… I could head back on my own. Made it this far, so I might be able-”

“No.” Ghost growled. Soap glanced over at him with a raised brow and I did the same. “Already told you we haven’t found as many people as we’d hoped for. Not gonna risk ya like that. You’ll stick with us.” 

Lieutenant indeed. 

“Alright, Bossy,” I replied. “I’ll… trust you… for now, I guess… not like I have a choice.” Ghost’s eyes narrowed at me that time and Soap’s grin widened as he chuckled. 

“Fair play,” he stated, reaching over to pat Ghost on the shoulder twice. “Let’s get goin’ then. We’re burnin’ daylight!”

--

thank you for reading :3

have a lovely day!

[redlenai]

"Asleep, you're the cutest little angel"

Just wanted an excuse to draw Derek's body~

(Uncropped at: X | Bluesky | Cafecito )

[starlightvld]

Yet another AMAZING piece by @kibagib!! This time, it's a sneak peek for chapter 1 of my new angsty soapghost fic Broken Bones and Shattered Hearts.

The lighting, the composition (the way John is being pulled out of the frame by someone else!!!), and the colors are all perfect. Thank you so much, Kiba!

I can't wait to share the first chapter with everyone!

[ramshackled-daisuke]

“Alright I’m starting to wonder how I’m seeing more “Yuu’s” based on my favorite medias- next thing I know I’m gonna be seeing somebody from Epic!”

“Hi Daisuke- did Christmas go ok for you?”

- @nrcsbestie

Yeah, it went pretty well! Thanks for asking! ^^

what’s a yuu?

[one-winged-dreams]

Being a sanitation worker, I'm imagining a silly little scenario where after the Tulpar crew (minus fuckface) comes home safe and sound, MW!Seth joins a gimmick maid company that still uses traditional uniforms.

Anya has to cover her face and squeak into her hands because he just looks so cute in a maid dress.

[theghostofsoap]

an attempt at Ghost lol

(also if Tumblr could not try and enlarge it and make it look stretched out that'd be great)

[44-mr-midnight-44]

hi axon... my ear hurts really bad so uhm .... can you draw bubblebutt (rivulet) touching mike with his wet, dripping hands

Can't believe this is how I'm introducing my AU version of MW Mike to you guys

[featherlouise]

Yet again thinking about my childhood friends au

I'm gonna make some stuff for it yesterday

Or at least dump some of my thoughts here lmao

[wrylu]

[cherie-doll]

What if our MW Boys were in their teenage years and Reader is a Cheerleader?

oh, so we hitting that high school au?

ε price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, makarov, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto з

ଘ Price notices you slack off in class sometimes, but he's not close enough to offer you help. So instead, you are trying to figure out who is leaving notes in your locker and slipping outlines of class into your textbooks. In the library while you might be falling asleep from staying up late the previous night practicing for the upcoming school game, he is peeping at you over his book to quietly chuckle to himself at your sleeping form. He might correct or scold anyone else who is slacking off, but he gently corrects you and guides you to help you stay on top of your studies. His reward in this is just getting to be acquainted to you, otherwise you wouldn't associate with him since there is little to nothing in common between you two.

ଘ Simon being that quiet, tall and brooding kid everyone's too scared to approach but is crushed on by half the school. He receives a ton of love letters and confessions in his locker but he always throws them away. Sometimes, he doesn't even spare a glance at them before he's discarding them. He's almost always seen at the bleachers when you're doing practices with the rest of your team. He's the only one there who stays for the entire practice, from beginning to end, observing the routine. When you're not looking you can feel as if eyes were on you, burning into you as you moved. Yet, he always left before you were able to approach him. The other cheerleaders tease you for having a "stalker".

ଘ Johnny is that hot jock who's always had a crush on you. Well, he's dated a lot of girls but really you're the only one who's had him stuttering and nervous to ask you out. He takes you seriously but is afraid you'll reject him. He's seen you reject anyone else to asks you out, so he's afraid you'll barely spare a glance at him before ignoring him. He enjoys throwing parties but does it mostly in hopes that you'll show up, yet he's hesitant to approach you and when he does it's small talk that leads no where for him. For the first time in his life, he's looking down, biting his lip and awkwardly smiling trying to crack jokes to make you laugh. It's sort of cute seeing him flustered.

ଘ Kyle is the one friend who's stuck with you since you were new in school. He's the one who helped you with all your classes, with his gentle smile and warm eyes that made you feel like it was going to be alright. He had noticed you staring at the poster for the cheerleader tryouts and encouraged you to join. If it weren't for him, you'd never have made it. Not only was he a good friend, but an excellent role model of a student; straight A's and all got along with teachers and most students. He came to school in neat yet fashionable clothes, he looked so put together and you don't think you've ever seen him be stressed out even when it seemed like he was balancing so many things at once. He invites you out to the movies and other outings that could almost count as dates, is he trying to hint at something?

ଘ Roach is that secret admirer of yours you've been receiving gifts and letters from since the school year started. You don't know it's him because he's always sitting at the back of the classes he's in with you and is in the crowd, excited to see you when you're at games. He didn't reveal it was him until a school dance came around and you decided to give him a chance. Hey, he's kinda endearing, why not? He wasn't bad looking, that's for sure. You found his love to be a little of a puppy love, him sticking to you when he could and following you around. But he grew a little more confident and would take you places and show you things. "Hey, I want to show you something cool". And he'd have the most interesting, and a little weird, interests to fascinate you with. But he really did know what you liked, which was a huge difference to you from the hot jocks who seemed to be brain dead and only talk about what they liked.

ଘ Alejandro with his charming smile who makes everyone fawn over him. You notice him getting along with everyone and he's smiled at you a few times when you pass each other in the hallway and you can't help but develop a little crush on him. You're not sure if you are interesting enough for him since he always seems to be the topic of interest. He is simply someone who people constantly want to be around, he makes funny jokes and is charismatic. Little do you know, you've caught his eye. He is curious about you and observes you when he gets the chance. He thinks you must be quite popular seeing as you're on the cheerleading team.

ଘ You're sorta struggling in class and you've noticed Rudy is one of the top students. You feel dumb asking for help but end up deciding to get tutoring from him after school. Turns out he's the nicest person you've ever encountered and whenever you two stay after school to study he ensures you understand each lesson before moving on not caring about how late it is and you can't help but start to like him. So far, he's really the only guy who hasn't flirted or said anything inappropriate to you despite still wearing the cheerleading outfit with the short skirt/shorts when he tutors you. He's never let his eyes drift down to your body and all his gestures are careful and respectful. You just love a guy like that.

ଘ Phillip who has made it clear to the entire school that he is dating you. He is very loud when cheering for you at games you reconsider who is the real cheerleader here. Everyone knows he is a daddy's boy because he often has money on him and borrows expensive items like his father's cars to impress you when driving you around town. He knows you're not big on showy stuff so he takes the time to find out what you like, maybe simpler things, and taking you to do that. One of his favorite activities is picking you up after your cheerleading practice to eat at a diner he's discovered.

ଘ Makarov is the rich foreign exchange student. Many try to offer him help but he isn't worried about his education, if anything he preoccupies himself with other things. He doesn't bother being around people he finds bland so he often skips classes, not caring. Well, what about one day when he sees you practicing your routine out in the field? He watches from afar and finds it strange he cannot take his eyes off of you. He has good taste so he doesn't wait long before approaching you directly. He is upfront and it's honestly hard to reject him asking you out when he does it in front of the entire school, with a huge bouquet of flowers and an expensive present. All that just to take you somewhere out of school.

ଘ Keegan the cute alt guy who never shows up to the school games, sits at the back of the class just observing everyone else or completely absorbed doing his own thing and has like one other person he hangs out with. Still, his off-putting demeanor isn't his only trait as he was the one who scared off those bullies who wouldn't stop trying to corner you in the school library. You have no idea how to thank him other than giving him a free ticket to the next school game. He can only shrug and look at it before you say it'd mean a lot if he came since you don't know how else to thank him. That day, you make sure you look your best even if you are not sure if he will show up. But he really is curious and decides to show up. He could get used to showing you attention since you are worth his time.

ଘ The adorable new foreign exchange student you've taken an interest in. König seems to be very occupied with learning the school system and passing his classes. But he just so happened to catch your eye and you were planning on bagging him before anyone else could. You would loop your arm around his, your hand in the crook of his elbow, and pull him along with you while he just allows himself to be dragged along because he doesn't want to be impolite. He can't help but think your smile is nice and feels a little hot when you give him those eyes. But he's here to study not get sidetracked, how about you show him that a little distraction won't hurt his grades? He did tell you he wanted to branch out and socialize a bit more.

ଘ Skater boy Horangi who spends a lot of time outdoors practicing his skills, he listens to music on a speaker and is very honest you think he might be mocking you sometimes. In reality, he is trying to win you over by trying to make you laugh with his questionable jokes. Secretly, he may watch you and write down facts or try to capture your likeness on a sketchpad he carries around. He keeps it hidden because he is afraid what will you think of him if you saw how many pages you've filled up in that sketchbook of his. He tries to maintain that effortlessly cool boy image you probably have in your head. He is in fact a lover boy but doesn't want to admit it.

ଘ There aren't many things Nikto displays an interest in. Most people assume he isn't even human due to his nature of being extremely frank and blunt. Most students wouldn't believe someone as intimidating as Nikto was dating the cheerleader. It is like your own secret that he cherishes deep in his heart, since he doesn't have to share there is no risk of others taking it away from him. He looks forward to those stolen moments of the day where he can get away to some isolated place with you, like on the school rooftop, the woods near the schoolyard or underneath the bleachers where you can enter in your own world. He can be quite the sweetheart when you least expect it, since he expresses himself very sincerely it is hard not to think he is lovable.