#pro riley

[thybreadmolds]

Silly Ghoap mini-comic incoming!

Sometimes we blurt out the most random stuff… Especially Soap.

[riviclouds]

*pets him with a slightly damp toothbrush*

[a-b-riddle]

check tags for warnings

In the mood to write angst. Imagine you’re the conscientious observer who accidentally sees how your team talks about you behind your back.

Your morals were… complicated. You didn’t believe in killing anyone. Your faith told you that killing someone is wrong and even if it’s to save your life, handling a gun is something that doesn’t sit well with you. You’ve been to gun ranges. Mandatory for your position in the military that you have basic fire arm knowledge. But having something in your hands that could so easily take a life made you uneasy.

You were pescatarian, but tried to limit meat. Cried anytime you saw chickens in those trucks heading toward their demise. You fed stray cats around your house back home. You tried to be kind and cherished life in all most of its forms. The exception being garlic butter shrimp that was too good to give up and anytime of bug resembling a cock roach. And yes, palmetto bugs were still cock roaches.

And wasps.

Fuck wasps.

At the same time, you were pro-choice. Initially, you were pro-choice for other women, but you didn’t think you would have the strength to get an abortion. It wasn’t until you were holding your friend’s hand as she got her D&C that your views on your own body autonomy changed. It didn’t have to be medical to be necessary.

But you still refused to hold a weapon. Which is why even though you were a very talented medic, you were always judged for not carrying any sort of defense while in the field.

But no one on base would dare say anything to you about it. At least not to your face…

You got stuck instructing a training seminar when your phone continued to buzz in your back pocket. But even with the consistent messages, you didn’t falter by showing the newest members how to give basic first aid until health could arrive.

Nearly two hours later, you finally fish your phone out to see what’s going on.

Dozens of text messages in a group chat between you, Captain Price, Johnny, Kyle and Simon. You had gotten close to them over the last few months. You were halfway through your contract and were already dreading leaving knowing they were staying behind until the job is done.

You open it, your phone taking you to the first unread message.

Cpt.: Hows the arm healing up?

Soap: Fine. Hen did a good job of keeping the sutures nice and even. Should barely scar.

Gaz: Wouldn’t have a scar if she just fucking carried.

Soap: You think she honestly would even know what to do with a gun if you gave her one Garrick 😂

Ghost: Still think she’s a liability. Someone who won’t raise arms against an enemy isn’t meant to be on the team.

Cpt: Already tried. Laswell says we need the numbers. As long as she does her job there’s nothing I can do. We can’t be down a medic and it’s either her or nothing.

You shook as you continued reading the conversation.

Liability. Coward. It went on and on about how weak you were. Why couldn’t you just carry a small pistol instead of expecting everyone else to keep you safe.

It then switched to your personality. No one should be that happy. Annoying. A yapper. Couldn’t get a word in most of the time.

On and on they went until you realized they spoke so freely because they didn’t realize you were in this group chat. What did they say when you weren’t around?

You felt like a fool having extending more than just trying to be a civil coworker, but a friend. Taking on tasks that weren’t your responsibility simply to help them.

Getting a floral arrangement delivered for Johnny’s sister after she had given birth. Talking on the phone to the nursing home where Price’s mother resided trying to sort out her insurance. Taking priority Kyle when he was injured after falling out of a plane (both times) over your other patients. And always having the electric kettled going in the morning so Simon could have his tea without waiting too long.

You were helpful. Just because you had one boundary didn’t mean their words held any merit. But still you couldn’t help the deep feeling of just… betrayal? Rejection? You weren’t sure there was a word fitting enough to sum up how utterly stupid you felt.

Maybe they were right. This wasn’t a civilian setting. This wasn’t just life and death for your patients, but for you. You were out in the field with no form of protection except from others.

You weren’t abandoning your morals. You couldn’t. Not when every fiber of your being told you to remain steadfast. There was only one solution.

You didn’t have much to pack. Uniform was issued to you. Your stethoscope and some other tools came out of your own pocket. Your laptop, phone, charges. You packed all your lounging clothes and miraculously everything fit into a military duffle. Which wasn’t actually anything impressive given how big those things are.

You were confident in your decision even if it made you feel like a failure.

As you stood outside the office door you returned back to the group chat. One by one you proceeded to block all of them. You knew when you left the group they would know that the notification would pop up and they either wouldn’t give a shit that you finally knew what the actually thought of you or they tried messaging you to make amends to cover their asses. You weren’t sure which was worse.

Once you had blocked the last one, you left and knocked on the door that you had been idling in front of. A faint ‘come in’ was granted before you walked through.

“Hey, Kate.” You greeted. “Can we talk?”

[swordsandholly]

A little sneak speak into a poly 141 x reader pro wrestling AU I’m working on for WIP Wednesday.

“Hello.” You blink up at the imposing figure above you.

Dark eyes stare down at you from behind his signature mask. A black balaclava with a sewn in skull covering his eyes. An iconic image in modern day wrestling.

The Ghost. Simon Riley. Current Heavyweight Champion. Thirty-one. Six-four and two hundred and fifty-five pounds. Lean.

You try very, very hard to ignore the fact that this massive man standing in front of you is wearing nothing but his wrestling trunks and knee-high boots. It feels so much skimpier in person.

“Och, yer the new announcer, aye?” Another man appears beside him. John MacTavish aka Soap. Another member of the 141 faction.

He’s pretty. The kind of pretty you’d recognize from a mile away. He was always one of your favorites to watch in the indies, when you could, and he continued to be a favorite all the way into the pros. He’s fast, high energy but a heavy hitter at the same time.

Current tag team champions with Gaz. Twenty-seven. Five foot ten, two hundred and twenty pounds and one of the prettiest men on the planet, as per the numerous fan pages dedicated to him and his kilt.

You nod, trying to calm down the rushing in your ears by giving your name and holding out your hand. Hopefully he doesn’t notice the shaking.

“Lovely tae meet ye.” He shakes your hand excitedly, a genuine grin splitting his face. “Donnae mind the big guy - he’s as quiet out of ring as in.”

You snort. So it’s not just the persona.

[leathfaic]

Ghost's and Soap's courting behaviour must've been a fucking trip to witness from an outside perspective. Like yeah they are flirting over comms without abandon, but in person it probably took them a while to get that comfortable (emotionally repressed as they both are in their own ways.) We get a glimpse during the Prison Break where Ghost is definitely showing off and Soap is absolutely smitten.

But it probably continues like that for a while. Ghost sniping, knifing, just continuously showing off extremely controlled violence to Soap's praise. Stunned and flustered that he found someone he can impress with all the ways he knows to kill a person. Wipes his bloody knife with a stupid little grin on his face that almost hurts because he's not used to it.

All the while he's absolutely fawning over Soap's demolition skills. Soap who will level a fucking building with nearly superhuman precision just to get Ghost to compliment him for it. Beaming like he just won a competition every time Simon has a nice word or two to spare for him, ash and dust still settling in the background.

Johnny who pushes himself in the gym when Simon is there: perfect form, keeping repetitions going only to nearly collapse on Gaz when Ghost leaves the room.

Ghost who gets extra gruff and showy in his authority over other soldiers when Soap is around, unconsciously wanting the other to know what a good CO he is. That he's great at being a soldier all around. And who fucking smiles under the mask when Soap shoots him an adoring look.

It's like two very confused and violent teenagers dancing around each other, both are intimated by their feelings for each other, but not enough to let it rest. Both desperately want to leave a good impression. Both too manly and gruff to do something about it at first, too afraid to be rejected to risk a confession.

The general sentiment on base once they get it sorted and finally get together is a huge "Thank fuck, took them long enough!" because it was getting annoying, but its not like anyone was about to call the fucking Ghost out on his antics. And while Soap might have been called out it certainly didn't stop him from acting a fool the moment Simon Riley enters a room.

Now there's some peace and quiet on base, we'll mostly, unless you have to room next to either of them...

[kodiakjester]

that Steven universe meme that's been going around

[idlehandskaylyn]

This took me forever and 110 layers. If I get at least ONE repost I will show you guys why it has 110 layers >.>

[dreamsuvivor]

Hear me out: the hot tall dark and mysterious vampire/immortal/other kind of mystical creature boyfriend will always be supperior to the boring basic “normal joe” bf, (no matter how toxic their relationship with the mc is). At least the toxicity is usually rooted in the fictional aspect of their relationship, (like their age gap, or idk killing somebody close to the mc). But the “normal joe”s are always just controlling and jealous in a very “every other guy you find on tinder” kinda way.

[headmatesrus]

*sees something we relate to, likes the post and goes to follow the account*

“endos/supporters dni” is in the bio

sigh *unlikes post*

[pro-royalty]

Ebony Riley & Jourdan Dunn

[thybreadmolds]

(My friend gave me some ideas. Kudos to her.)

GHOST PYRAMID HEAD?! (Halloween costumes)

Shorter Soap sorry not sorry :0P

Edit: Forgot to add vvvv

[incinerated-vestiges]

Almost done but i feel like this eye needs to be appreciated

[ayearofgoodfate]

it’s starting to be euphoric again thank god

[scribbledcosmos]

Thinking of a very stupid thing I could do. Which is creating a superhero/supervillain au but instead of fandom characters it’s me and my headmates

Idk it would be funny and fictionalizing things seems to be coping mechanism of mine (coughs and looks at the like nine introjects of sanders sides ocs)

-Crescent (she/they/he)

[you-were-mythtaken]

You hate Riley Finn? You hate this wet cat of a man? Who awkwardly flirts by offering Buffy cheese? Who goes through a lot of stuff with the Initiative, including being drugged and mind controlled and experimented on? Who leaves the Initiative and gives up a part of his identity once he figures out that they're up to no good?

You look into Riley's sad eyes and hate him?

[kodiakjester]

one for the road