#felted soap

[clnclm]

.🫒.🫒.

[cozy-kit-cafe]

plush book self-care

[lanialania00]

Not everyone understands the ghost vibe like Soap does

[spawnofvulcan-knits]

I’d say my first my first attempt at felting soap was a success. Def learned a few things along the way.

[s0fter-sin]

ghost who works with abused dogs because he can relate to their fear and anger and soap who's terrified of dogs but needs a service animal after he gets shot

ghost who's covered in just as many bite scars and scratches as he is scars from his childhood and the military, but he never holds it against a single dog

he knows what it's like to feel trapped and think you only have one way out

he sits through the barking and the lunges, steadily gets closer as he gently talks with each dog, apologises when he moves too quick and gets bitten because it's always his fault, never the dog's. no one bites for no reason

the pride he feels when he gets to share their blanket for the first time is only matched by the day of their adoption

it’s soap's friend’s idea to bring him to check out a dog to foster while his service dog goes through training. he knows he's uncomfortable around dogs - he never made a production out of it but you can only duck around someone so they’re in between you and a dog so many times before they pick something up - but he just thinks he's not used to them and being around one will be enough to calm him down

soap knows he needs a service animal; both for medical reasons and help with every day tasks but also for emotional regulation. he pings from depression to apathy to white hot rage so quick it exhausts him; he's so tired of blowing up at people just because he can't keep his head on straight

he needs a service dog

but just hearing the barking from outside has him so on edge, he's almost sick from it

a volunteer shows them all the dogs available to foster. his friend gushes over every single one; cooing about how cute and sweet they look, just darling things, encouraging them to jump up on their barrier and play tug with their toys, and “come on soap, say hello”

soap keeps his distance, smiling thinly as the volunteer introduces each dog

but ghost happens to be in one of the kennels working with his latest trouble case

and he can plainly see how terrified soap is, no matter how well he thinks he’s hiding it

he flinches at every bark, his hands fisted at his sides, but his friend just doesn't notice; too occupied with the lab mix he’s playing with. ghost can see just how tight he's winding up, the tension creeping up his spine, his “smile” twitching uncontrollably, and it doesn't surprise him in the slightest when he finally snaps at his friend to “just fuck off, alright!” after he keeps pushing him to get closer to the dogs

the abrupt silence is tight and judgmental; the friend giving him a wild look. soap gives a short apology, still angry even though if anyone just took the time to look, it’d be clear he doesn't want to be, and storms out while his friend apologises to the volunteer; dripping with shame and embarrassment that sets ghost's teeth on edge

he could've stopped a dozen times before soap blew up, should've seen the warning signs that he was getting overwhelmed and afraid long before he got to that point

he spreads out a few treats for his dog, both a reward for his patience and an apology for prematurely ending their time together, slowly getting to his feet. he heads outside to find soap in the alley beside the shelter, swearing at himself under his breath and looking seconds away from punching the brick

and when soap snaps, “enjoying the show?”, squaring up with his teeth bared, ghost just leans back against the wall; open and non-threatening and waits for soap to come to him

just ghost who knows what it's like to be angry and afraid and has the patience to help soap feel more in control of himself, never flinching from his bark or his involuntary bite, as well as help him through his fear in time for his service dog

[somerandomdudelmao]

Someone mailed me a bunch of handmade tiny orcas..I….oh, MY GOD, hahahaha. Whoever it was, I hope you're having a reeeeally great day because you absolutely made mine

[drgnflyteabox]

Soap finds himself a lucky charm // Soap x fem!reader // kidnapping, noncon, gambling, post-injury soap, unreliable narrator (he's crazy), johnny hears simons voice in his head <3, breeding kink, unwanted pregnancy, ghoap elements but simon isnt in it

Johnny finds himself at the horse track of all places, six months to the day since his injury.

Simon doesn't know where he is, but he knows that Simon could find him as easily as anything. He hasn't yet. Space, is what Johnny had asked for. Space is what he's getting. It both upsets and pleases him.

Spending money is too easy. He splurges everywhere, on everything. Takeout, booze. His apartment's a pigpen of bottles and containers. All thanks to his honourable discharge stipend, which is generous thanks to Price, though he hasn't returned any of his calls.

Price could find him easily, too, but their relationship's been tight since the signing of the paperwork.

Not my choice, John had said tightly. My hands are tied.

A couple thousand down already, his lucks been off. Ever since the accident. It's not any of the post-TBI symptoms, it's spiritual. He feels it, deep in his gut.

Cosmic.

He should be in the field, but he's not. Something has shifted the wrong way. Everything feels, looks, is, slanted. Off.

Bonnie Bouquet is the horse he's been betting on. A few hundred at a time. She's a fast girl, but she's been finishing off the board lately. Losing him a lot of cash.

He can hardly focus as he a group of squawking, stumbling partygoers elbow in beside him.

There's a pulse that begins in his temples as he watches her fumble, outpaced by a horse called Apple Cider of all names. He feels a hot coal settle in his chest, frustration morphing into anger as costs him again.

That pulse turns to sharp, digging pain, the bullet back again and tunnelling it's way into his head. He can practically feel the thick, cottony fog come back on, the dizziness. His vision pinpoints onto the downturned arrow on the screen. He hears the gun cock again,

Bonnie Bouquet finishes tenth out of fourteen, and he swivels to snarl at the pack of harpies beside him when—

It's been a while. Longer than before the injury, even, since he's had pussy. That's why he deflates, chokes up, lets the swell of pain in his head wash over him without so much as a twitch when he sees you.

The answer. The solution he's been waiting for, right here in front of him, sent by God or the universe or fuck, he wouldn't put it past the team to have sent him a little consolation prize.

"There you are, Johnny," he hears Simon say. His voice is right there, in the room. You're for him. You're his light at the end of the tunnel, the reason he's been booted.

"S'all worth it now, isn't it?"

It'll be worth it when he can fit his cock in your snug little cunt, and make a new purpose for himself through your womb.

He doesn't think of how he looks when he approaches you, pushing past your clucking friends, eyes razor sharp and shoulders squared.

"What one are ye bettin on?" he opens, staring down at your surprised face, petal-soft mouth in a sweet little 'o'.

His cocks rock hard in his jeans, straining, and distantly he hears one of your friends gasp. He doesn't give a fuck. Look, hen, it's for ye. That's all for ye.

"Um," you stutter. Cute wee lamb, he thinks. "I think, uh, The Scottish Thistle."

The Scottish Thistle. As clear of a sign as any. Simon laughs, grating, "Picked a Scottish horse, didn't she? What else do you need, Johnny? A kick in the arse?"

Nothing. He needs nothing else to push out again, betting on The Scottish Thistle and winning for the first time in months.

You're terrified when you discover him in the backseat of your car.

Poor little lamb, trying to fight. Bleating and pushing against him with arms that haven't seen even a shade of what he has. But he's still strong, still got it, puts his arms like a vice around your throat until you're docile enough that he can take your keys and drag you back out into his truck.

It's alright. You'll understand soon enough, that you're meant for him. That you're gonna be his lucky charm, his cause, his justification. He'll make it all back and more. In droves.

And he if doesn't come back? He's still got warm, soft thing to sink right into. A comfort for his weary head.

You learn eventually, that this is destiny. That you're meant to be right here, tidying his house, taking his come right in that pretty pussy. Keeping it safe, he jokes to you. Creating a life for him where before he had died.

He could cry, when he sees the test. Johnny's gonna be a father.

You still tremble, even after all this time, wide little cow eyes looking up at him, teary. Beautiful.

"Look at that, hen," he shows you the stick, smiling at your happy tears, "awe, it's okay to be nervous. Ah ken you'll be a good mam."

He fucks you that night to celebrate, slots himself deep, crushes you with his body the way you like it. You don't really speak often, but that's okay. You're just naturally shy, and he doesn't mind living off your cute little sounds instead of words.

"Ah, good girl," he grunts, pumping, "gooood girl."

You squeak, pant, cry. Face wet with overwhelmed tears. You've stopped trying to fight, stopped pushing his hand away when he fingers your swollen clit and makes you come again.

Soon, he'll have a family.

"Purpose, again, Johnny. That's a good lad, give it to her good."

And when he brings you, belly swollen with the life he planted there, to the races again— he's sure you'll pick the right one.

[temeyes]

jetlagged

[spurbleu]

141 and love languages

simon is an observer. wallflower that demands attention (paradox, but when is he not) which makes him the perfect gift giver. didn’t take him much to know what you want, what you like, sometimes even before you do. flips through the glossary of your wishlist- breaching privacy for the purpose of good (that crease your lips make when you smile). it was unnerving the first few times, but it’s quickly become endearing.

price, ever the helpful, makes up for his absence with acts of service. shelf you need to put up? he’s got you, sweetheart. darn, flat tire? let him fix it. big hands may help him hold a gun- but he finds they hold you much better. you wouldn’t pin price as the doting type, but sitting between his legs as he rubs the strain out of your shoulders, you’d never complain. maybe he can’t always say it, or stay long enough to make you believe it, but he can show how much you mean to him.

gaz doesn’t have much of it- which is why when he does spend his time with you, it’s special. sometimes it’s planned in such minute detail you wonder if he borrowed field expertise to carry it through. but you also find that even the moments that aren’t planned; folding into the bow of his chest, the laughter after you drop your ice cream- can be the sweetest. it’s because even if it’s not put together with a bow- he’s present for all of it. he wants to soak up as much of you as he can.

soap can’t keep his hands off you. he kisses the flyaways on your forehead before running his hand up your waist, tracing lazy figure eights until he sleeps. at first you thought he was just horny- but you’re only a little right. he can’t keep his hands off you because frankly, he never wants to. you are too much of a precious thing to let slip through is fingers, so he’ll hold you with as gentle of a grip that iron can allow.

[skulldetergent]

🎃🐺 SPOOKY SEASON 🐺🎃

[sneezarify]

Scent allergies are toooooo cute! I was in a scented candle/soap shop, and heard a big wet sneeze followed by “oh no, that’s really setting me off” then they walked away quickly to let out more sneezes.

[python333]

task force 141 reacting to [reader] giving them a 'happy father's day' card — python333

— — — —

synopsis you give the tf141 boys some happy father's day cards!!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & younger!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost.

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], reader is intended to be around 16/17-20/21 but can be interpreted as older as long as they're below 24 (just so that the headcanons make more sense), maybe ooc?

note i'm so sorry but there's no gaz in this one BUT i can explain why!! i was doing my research (going through three different tumblr posts) to figure out the actual age of each character and gaz is apparently 24?? in new updates or whatever?? anyway, even before i found that out, i could only ever imagine writing him as an older brother, simply because he doesn't feel fatherly to me but still has those protecive-familial vibes so if yall want me to write something on him being ur older brother then feel free to request/reply/comment or whatever and i will! :3 this is all comfort no hurt and pure fluff so enjoy!!

JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE

➥ OH GOD.

➥ man i don’t even have daddy issues and i’m crying.

➥ gives you that one dad smile he has—y’all know the one. don’t pretend you don’t—and thanks you for it.

➥ gives you a lil hug too because why not?

➥ tears up just the tiniest bit but it’s pretty unnoticeable but i need you to know that it’s there.

➥ either keeps it propped up on his desk, in one of the drawers of his desk, or puts it in a small frame and puts that on or in his desk.

➥ definitely reads it at least once a week.

➥ he’s so genuinely flattered by it i think that after you leave his office he’d tear up a bit.

➥ you thought he was acting as a father figure to you before?

➥ be prepared for him to take it to a whole nother level.

➥ starts getting you cheesy birthday cards after you start giving him father’s day cards.

➥ is he a father biologically? no. is he one mentally, emotionally, and spiritually? absolutely.

—

You were reasonably pretty nervous.

It wasn’t ever really a secret that you and Price had some sort of father-child-like relationship, what with the amount of hair ruffles, head pats, shoulder pats, etc. that you’d received from him and the swatting at his hand with your own that you had given back. But none of that took away the nervousness you had when you gave Price a father’s day card for the first time.

It’s not that you thought that he would be weirded out by it, you just had a small habit of overthinking things, and this happened to be one of those things. The card didn’t say too much inside of it, a simple ‘happy father’s day!’ and a sentence you wrote that mentioned that you were grateful to know him. That’s it. That’s all it was. And yet, your hand shook as you held it, the other hand knocking on the door of Price’s office.

He nodded in greeting and opened it, and stepped out of the way to let you walk in and sit in front of his desk. He sat at his usual seat after shutting the door, and you set the card in your lap, not wanting him to see it just yet.

“Is there any particular reason why you wanted to come into my office?” Price asked, breaking the silence. You took a deep breath and nodded before you quickly handed over the card, slipping it onto his side of the desk. He took a good look at it for a moment, reading the ‘happy father’s day!’ on the front and looking over the cheesy illustration on the cover. You anxiously waited for him to say something as he simply stared at it, before he picked it up and opened it, reading the short few words that were written on the inside.

You watched as his expression melted into a softer one, and he stared at the card for another moment before wordlessly getting up. Before you could say anything, or question anything, he knelt down to the level of the chair you were sitting in and hugged you. You were frozen with surprise before you hugged him back, loosely wrapping your arms over his shoulders, a little confused by the hug but appreciating the embrace nonetheless. He rubbed your back for a quick moment before standing back up straight and patting your shoulder.

”Thank you,” He said, smiling down at you. “I really appreciated that, kiddo.”

Oh, wow. I don’t know why, but I think I might start crying. “Yeah—yeah, of course,” You’d replied, quickly getting up and giving Price a quick hug before swiftly walking to the door, “I’ll just, uh, I’ll be in my room. Or, actually, no, I’m gonna go—I’m gonna go bother Soap in his office, so if you need me I’ll be in there okaybyeCaptainI’llseeyoulater!” You rushed out, not looking back as you closed the door behind you.

Price had blinked at the door for a moment before huffing out a small laugh and sitting back down in his chair, looking at the card you’d given him one last time before sighing and letting himself tear up a bit. Eventually, after just sitting there and staring at the card, he unlocked one of the few locked drawers at the bottom of his desk and put the card there, for safekeeping.

—

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

➥ he’s so excited when he reads that card.

➥ he’s so flattered?? and is so happy?? and oh my god he might pass out?? from all the positive emotions he feels??

➥ be careful with what you say because you might break him beyond repair.

➥ it’s like you’ve given a puppy it’s first treat, honestly.

➥ won’t cry but is very close to!!

➥ will definitely show off the card to everyone.

➥ when i say everyone i mean EVERYONE.

➥ he will talk everyone’s ear off about it, no matter who they are or what they’re doing, hell, the man could be pissing with his dick out at the urinals and everything and he’ll still be ranting to the poor soul in the bathroom about what a sweetheart you are and how you gave him a father’s day card.

➥ he starts calling you ‘lamb’ and ‘duckie’ after the whole ordeal.

➥ no i didn’t ask chatgpt for terms of endearment scottish parents use for their children haha!!

➥ he buys a corkboard just to pin the card to in his office.

➥ like it’s literally just in the middle, nothing else on the corkboard, just that singular father’s day card.

➥ the whole thing is just reserved for father’s day cards tbh. he hopes to fill it up with as many cards as you’ll give him, and if you only give him the one, then damn it, the corkboard’s only gonna have one thing on it and whoever questions it can mind their damn business.

—

You didn’t really know what to expect with Soap when you gave him the card.

You felt pretty confident giving it to him, knowing the guy could probably receive a rock with googly eyes on it from you and still cry tears of joy knowing you gave it to him of all people, so giving this card to him was no big deal, right?

You found him in the recreational center, lounging on the couch, reading a book—shocking, I know—and quietly reading the words out loud to himself. The moment you had entered the center, though, he looked up from his book and nodded in greeting at you with a smile on his face and watched as you walked over to him.

Before he could say anything, you quickly put the card in his lap and watched as he looked up at you, a surprised and amused expression on his face.

“What’s this?” He asked, not looking down at the card just yet.

“Read it,” You’d insisted, gesturing towards the card in his lap. He blinked at you for a moment before muttering, “Alright, then,” under his breath and looking down at the card. He picked it up and read the three short words on the front and looked over the illustration on the cover, and the moment the words registered in his brain, his face broke out into a grin and he looked up at you.

“Aww, this is sae sweet,” Soap gushed, “Thank ye!”

He got up before you could talk and hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit, cooing, “Ye're jist the sweetest, ma God, when did ye get the card?”

“I got it a while ago,” You had admitted, “Decided to give it to you now.”

Soap set you down and put both of his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing circles into them with his thumb, looking down at you with an elated grin, "I'm gonnae hang this up in ma office—I'll get a corkboard an' everything, jist for this."

You looked up at him with a confused, but amused look on your face, asking, “And you’re just gonna hang that card on there?”

He nodded in confirmation and responded, “Aye, it'll be deid center, naething else on there."

—

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

➥ oh my goodness.

➥ the moment you hand him the card, it’s like he already knows what it is without reading it.

➥ probably thinks it’s a joke at first.

➥ when he realizes that you’re serious he straight up tears up.

➥ like in front of you and everything he’ll tear up.

➥ “... Are you crying?” ghost, tearing up and literally about to start sobbing, "No.”

➥ he treasures that thing and would literally cease to exist if he ever lost it or if it got destroyed.

➥ won’t flaunt it at all, instead he keeps it in the pocket of a jacket he never wears anymore.

➥ if you ever give him more cards, he’ll consider getting a box to keep them in.

➥ he’s always called you ‘kid’ but after this he starts calling you ‘kiddo’.

➥ THERE’S A DIFFERENCE. I CANNOT TELL YOU WHAT IT IS BUT THERE IS A DIFFERENCE.

➥ listen kiddo is more affectionate and its softer and its not as playful as kid its more personal and and and [explodes]

➥ the others notice the small change in behavior he has towards you (being more lighthearted with his teasing, generally being less cold with you, etc.) and will tease him endlessly about it.

➥ by others i mean soap and gaz. those two team up and tease him to death.

➥ he could care less though!! he tells himself that they’re idiots anyway and that his behavior hasn’t changed that much.

➥ he’s in denial and i think that him and me are the same fr.

—

You had practically searched every corner, crevice, nook, and cranny of the base searching for Ghost. When you finally found him, he was in the armory and weapons room cleaning the barrel of his rifle, hyperfocused on wiping away the gunk on the gun. You stopped by the door, hesitating in giving him the card. It really shouldn’t be that hard, You thought, What’s the worst that could happen?

You were aware that there were many things that could happen, most of which were bad, but you ignored them for the sake of building up your confidence to give him the card. You stood there for a while, just sort of staring at him, before he—not even looking up from his gun—called out to you with a simple yet firm, “Do you need something?”

You probably could’ve died right there, his firm voice almost completely shattering your confidence for reasons you couldn’t specify, but you instead cleared your throat and walked out of the doorway and completely into the room. You walked over to him and before he could ask any further questions you held the card out to him, your hand having a small tremble to it, an uncomfortably visible display of your nervousness.

He stared at the card for a moment before setting down the cloth he was using to clean his gun and grabbing it, reading the front for a moment before huffing out a small laugh and looking up at you to tease you for it. He was going to tell you what a ‘funny’ joke it was, to tell you to just go do whatever work you’re probably skipping out on when he sees the look on your face that tells him that you’re pretty serious about the card.

He looked back down at the card and read it again, the words ‘happy father’s day’ echoing through his mind as he opened it. He read the few short words on the inside of the card and the shitty drawing of a ghost right next to one that was scribbled out—because of course you had to use pen and weren’t satisfied with the first ghost you drew even though Ghost could make out through the scribbles that they practically looked the same.

You were pretty nervous the longer the silence stretched out, and you were about to take back the card and go jump off a cliff to avoid ever looking at Ghost again when suddenly you hear a sniffle.

“Are you… are you crying?” You’d asked, more confused than nervous now, watching as Ghost shook his head negatively and continued to stare at the inside of the card.

“No,” He answered, sniffling again.

“... You sure?” You’d asked again, far less nervous now, your tone becoming more teasing.

“Positive.” Ghost said firmly, though his voice had wavered a bit. He looked up at you and reached his hand up to give you a pat on the shoulder, muttering, “Thank you for that, kiddo.”

"Yeah, no problem," You had said back, smiling down at Ghost before taking a step back, "I'll leave you to keep cleaning your gun, or whatever."

Ghost had simply nodded and looked back at the table where your card and his gun laid, and you didn't stay long enough to watch him tear up all over again at the sight of the letter.

[spawnofvulcan-knits]

My first, hand felted, bar of soap! Looks a little lumpy, but I think it’s pretty good for my first attempt :)

[s0fter-sin]

still thinking about gaz doing ghost’s skincare

even when they’re on base and the worst of the all-encompassing exhaustion is held at bay, he knows ghost doesn’t have the energy to spare to do any kind of in depth routine; knows as much as it makes him feel good to feel soft and clean and cared for, he won’t be able to keep up with it by himself

gaz just didn't expect how good it would feel to do it for him

how accomplished he'd feel when he figured out the right combination of products to soothe ghost's sensitive neglected skin without him breaking out or getting even more dehydrated, the best moisturiser for his scars, researching no-wash products so he doesn't have to get up once they've started; all ghost has to do is lay back and let gaz work

it's an honour, not only to be trusted enough with ghost's - with simon's - face but also to watch him lose every ounce of tension in his body

they usually - and how amazing that they have a usual, that this has become a routine - end up with ghost's head in his lap, a soft pillow beneath his head so he can just rest. it's not uncommon for him to fall asleep entirely as gaz follows his steps

bottles of cleansers and serums and moisturisers all bought just for him, each one dutifully researched with ghost's skin type in mind, all stored in a black leather bag moulded into a skull bc gaz found it browsing one day and thought it was too perfect. ghost doesn't even know what they all do, just knows how blissful it is to feel the gentle pressure of gaz's fingers massaging his face; following the contours of scars that haven't pulled or flared since they started doing this

gaz never tells him about the rollers he could use instead, the applicators that are technically better for his skin bc it would mean he'd know that gaz uses his hands just for him; that he can feel how much he craves his touch and knows he enjoys it just as much, if not more than the actual results

gaz just tells him that a thorough massage after everything is applied is necessary for all the products to marry up and sink properly into his skin and spends the next half hour smiling down at his superior as he lets go of all his pain and trusts him to keep him afloat

[laswells-ashtray]

Hiiiiiiii who out of the cod guys is most likely to tear up at a movie? And, to add to that, who is is embarrassed or entirely unashamed?

Soap will shed a few tears at Brokeback Mountain and he doesn't care, that movie is fucking heartbreaking.

Price would get choked up by Dead Poets Society when he was younger. He refuses to rewatch it now for fear it might be just as bad.

Gaz was back home for Christmas one year and the family decided to throw on the Jurassic World movies for the kids, he had gotten slightly tipsy with his siblings and when it got to the scene where they have to leave the brachiosaurus behind and it burns in the lava he leaves "to go smoke" and then stands outside and wipes the tears from his eyes because it was just so fucking sad and he's definitely drunk. Would never admit it to anyone.

Nikolai sheds a single tear at Mamma Mia during Slipping Through My Fingers, he feels no shame. It would get to the best of men. He was also high as shit on painkillers at the time.

I've said it before, I'll say it again. Shawshank Redemption gets Graves. He is ashamed of it but the bit with Brook just gets to him and crumbles every time.

No one knows and no one will ever know but the movie that truly does it for Ghost is All Dogs Go to Heaven. I don't feel the need to explain.

Big believer that Alex is the worst out of all of the cod men because if you get him drunk enough then he'll cry at damn near any movie, he's a big feelings type if drunk and it shows. Watched Philidelphia once while drunk and started bawling, to this day he doesn't remember it.

[temeyes]

captain price and his new ash tray