ghostlyangels1204 - Tumblr blog

[ghostlyangels1204]

AOT:

#1

[ghostlyangels1204]

Levi:  Y/N, I know you love eyebrows. I mean, we all do, he's a very... nice (?) person and I respect him immensely. Levi: But, I also think he might be a fucking idiot... Y/N: LEVI!? Levi: Forget it, you deserve each other...

[ghostlyangels1204]

Cw: Fem-bodied reader, fluffy Riley <3

His sweatpants hang low on his hips, the dips and highs of his scar-decorated muscles on show for anyone who takes a morning walk beside the window. A cup of coffee held in his hand, black, no sugar. Just as he preferred.

Ghost never liked time off. He’s so used to being ‘on-the-go’, cleaning, exercising, paperwork filing (as monotonous as it was,). Ghost had to move. His hands could never sit still without finding something to occupy himself with. Price chalked it up to him needing to feel useful, Soap thought he wanted to avoid his own thoughts. But Ghost never chimed in to explain. It’s just the way he always has been, and likely always will be.

Now, here he stands, gazing out the window at you. The long cotton sundress he bought for you clinging to your figure, hair tied up with wispy flyaways- tennis ball in hand, ready to throw it as far as your arm can manage for your pup. A German shepherd Price had assigned to Simon years back- the dog he never wanted, but wouldn’t even joke about giving up now. She sits by your feet, her paws stomping on the ground in anticipation of running as fast as she can. Your laugh carries through the warm, still morning air. Songbirds whispering along with your melody.

He feels something strange, maybe it’s the harsh grin growing from under his mask. Maybe, it’s the lightness in his chest, or the butterflies flitting around in his stomach. A feeling he seldom ever feels in his life. Happiness.

Ghost never liked time off, but Simon? Simon loves every moment.

Word Count: 272 Masterlist

[ghostlyangels1204]

⋆𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯𝘯𝘺 '𝘚𝘰𝘢𝘱' 𝘔𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘩⋆- 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Oneshots/Drabbles/Requests (From new to old):

Soap The Flower Girl

[ghostlyangels1204]

Soap the flower girl

Cont: I got his idea after seeing a TikTok of something similar to this, at that moment this was all I could think of omg. Soap is the perfect man istg, teeth-rotting sweetness. Brace yourselves.

You wrung your hands together, the sweat pilling there becoming exceedingly more uncomfortable as time passes. You had the whole day, hour to hour, minute to minute, mapped out in your mind. Every detail filed down to a fine pointed edge- not even a speck of dust could evade your wrath. Not today. Johnny had his fair share of missions for work, but this one was his biggest. The day he would legally bind the two of you, your promises exchanged with rings and sealed with a kiss.

Everything was perfect, your support network were all there- fawning over you, surrounding you with all the love you could possibly imagine, and then some. Johnny was in his own room, the three men he dedicated his life to for years, right there with him. But then, just as Johnny was hyping himself up, with Price and Gaz by his side, Ghost had walked into the room with less-than-ideal news. Johnny’s niece, the sweetest little girl you had ever met, had come down with a bad sickness bug from nursery and was currently stationed at home in bed. Needless to say- you didn’t have a flower girl.

“Ach’ shite…”, He huffed out, his hand finding its way to his face in a feeble attempt to soothe the contracted muscles. “Ay’e, what the hell am’ I gonnae do now? We get married in ten minutes!”

“Alright buddy, it’s just some flowers on the aisle. Bet no-one will even notice…” Ghost’s poor attempt at relaxing the sergeant resulted in two pairs of eyes from Price and Gaz being launched his way. He really wasn’t made for being a wedding planner.

Price turned back to him, a hand coming down to clasp his shoulder, “Right mate, let’s just get you downstairs yeah, and we’ll see if anyone fancies stepping in?” With a final pat on his back, they all moved downstairs as a unit, Johnny walking about ten paces faster than the rest.

In the time it took for everyone to be seated, people had asked around if anyone could step in. But to no avail, as all the other kids were either too shy or too stubborn to step in.

“Nah we need a flower girl… fuck,” The three men looked on in concern, convinced Johnny was about to drop dead from a heart attack right then and there. And they couldn’t leave you as a widow before you even married the man. “Johnny… its flowers… some petals that are more littering than decoration”, “Aye’ shut your trap LT, it matters okay! It might not matter to me or you, but it matters to them…”

Just as he was about to give up and face the loss, Johnny’s eyes widened. A flicker of light beaming in those baby blues that both relieved, and scared the other men around him. “AYE I’M A GENIUS!” He all but yelled out in joy, hands coming up to shake Ghost’s shoulders. “I’m not wearing a tutu Soap…”, “Shut up LT,” On any other day, Ghost would’ve reamed him for speaking to him like that- but he decided to give the man a day off. Just this once.

“Right, here’s the plan. Music- ON. Gaz, walk. Price, walk, Ghost, walk. All the bridesmaids, walk. Ring bearer, as long as he isn’t sniffling into a tissue too, WALK. And then me…” His smile was so wide his face could’ve split into two parts. They all looked baffled at each other, “Soap mate, that’s great but… that doesn’t solve your flower girl issue?”, “Wait and see Gazalicious… just you wait!” They watched as he ran off back into the building behind him, temporarily getting lost as he darted in one direction then came back sprinting in the other.

Gaz, Ghost and Price readied themselves behind the doors, waiting for the music to begin and to walk down the aisle themselves. “He doesn’t have any C4 on him does he?” Price whispered to Ghost, extremely concerned for his undisclosed, ‘genius’, solution. “Screened him, from his bags all the way down to his boxers… got nothin’ mate.”

The speakers scratched and the music began to play. Your bridesmaids surrounded you, ensuring everything about you looked as polished and perfect as you planned. Air filled your lungs as you took a deep breath, you were in no way nervous or doubtful in your decision. You just prayed you wouldn’t fall down that goddamn aisle.

You watched through tearful eyes as you saw the members of 141 each take their turn. Walking towards their positions towards the front of the ceremony. His best men.

All your bridesmaids followed, your maid of honor planting a kiss on your cheek for good luck, pinkies crossing together. “I hope you enjoy the surprise babe,” she giggles, and before you can ask, what the hell is that supposed to mean, she takes her turn. Surprise? What the hell?

All of a sudden, the music changes to something you hadn’t planned. Oh my god, it’s all going wrong. You cast a glance towards the start of the aisle, through a different door than you were at, where Johnny should be walking down. And then you spot him. Immaculately dressed in his tux, which he refused to let you get a sneak peek at if you didn’t let him see your dress. “It’s only fair, bonnie”. Not a strand of hair out of place- definitely Ghost’s work.

But, he’d added some accessories…

A pair of huge sunglasses frame his face with a basket of white and pink petals slung on his arm. He stands there, shoulders wide, serious look plastered on his face. He turns his head from one side, to the other, and starts to walk.

Ever so delicately, for a man of his size, he grasps pinches of petals before dashing them down the aisle. Sprinkling the flora down to his feet with the grace of a ballerina. Gleeful laughs erupt from your family and friends at this ‘surprise’. He’s even got the officiant laughing. With another handful of petals, he twirls around in place, before launching the flowers to his left side, and then some to his right. Petal after petal is scattered as he makes his way down towards the arch. The final handful is blown gently from his hand, into poor Ghost’s face. The lieutenant can’t help but laugh along with him, all his moodiness still intact. Johnny places the basket down, before turning around, and the four of them gather in a group hug, cackling away to themselves as cheering surrounds them.

Silently, without asking or worrying you, Johnny had fixed a problem you didn’t even realise you had. You’re about to marry the best man you’ve ever met, and you couldn’t be happier.

Word Count: 1129

[ghostlyangels1204]

⋆'𝘊𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯' 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦 ⋆- 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Oneshots/Drabbles/Requests (From new to old):

Early Mornings With Price

[ghostlyangels1204]

Early mornings with John, golden sun flowing through the unfastened blinds. The soft dew of the morning seeping through your veins. Birds chirping outside the window, tiny tweets waking you up to a fresh morning. A fresh start.

Arms wrapped around you in a warm, solid embrace. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, lavender. He muses, inhaling your sweet scent, grounding him in the moment he finds himself at.

Cold, callused hands grazing over your soft skin. Every inch of you made for him. Moulded to his touch. The soft shared touches, for you. Only, you.

"Five more minutes..." you mumble, voice husky from sleep, turning over dramatically to bury your head in his chest. His body vibrates with a deep chuckle, hands coming up to comb through your hair. Arms engulfing you, caging you into his hold.

"As long as you need, my love-", his delicate reminder all you need to go back to rest. Soft whispers exchanged among the linen and cotton in the light of the morning.

He would stay here forever if he could.

Masterlist

[ghostlyangels1204]

Simon would make a good dog dad- that's it, that's where my mind is rn <3

“Absolutely not”.

Price was full of shit. That much he knew. And with this new bright idea, Simon’s new concern had been confirmed. His Captain had absolutely gone mad. One too many bumps on the head, he reasoned, had dealt too much damage- pair that with his ‘old age’, and Simon considers sending him to a care home.

There was no doubt in his mind- he was not having a slobbering, shitting furry nuisance by his side 24/7. What the hell was Price thinking? “I don’t need no’ furry mongrel. I’m a soldier not a dog walker Cap’.”, “The K9 handler’s wife just gave birth- fella needs time off, so I thought, why not give her to the softest soldier I know?” He knew Price was pulling his leg. “Just give it a week, eh Si? Seven days and if you want rid of her, she’s gone and some other poor sod can have her to cuddle at night.”

He stares down at the puppy, no more than a few months old, who is happily chomping down on the laces of the captain’s boots. Looking up, he meets the eyes of Price, “If it shits in my boots once, I’m handing it to you personally.”

The first few days went as expected, Simon wanted to die.

4am scratching at the door to go potty. Stealing his boxers when he needed to get dressed, (Johnny took extra entertainment at that one- even forming an alliance with the puppy to hide his clothes from him during his shower- he got two weeks of cleaning the barracks for that one), and she seemed to have a special fixation on everyone’s shoe laces, nipping and tugging at the cotton until blood flow was cut-off from them being wound too tight. He wasn’t made for the level of patience required. Sure, he had to deal with new recruits daily- their brazen, ‘-I-know-it-all’ attitudes that would someday get them killed… but shouting at them would result in at least a modicum of change.

That result cannot happen as easily with dogs.

But Price began to notice a shift. The team sat down for dinner, exhausted after a hell of a long day of drills. One person was missing from the table, however, Simon. They reasoned that he must be showering or something. But when he enters the mess hall, they notice the ‘small sergeant’ by his side- head bopping up and down as she patters next to her foster handler. He sits down with a huff, and she dives down under the table, spinning in circles before curling up next to Simon’s feet. She rests her head on the toe of his boots before closing her eyes.

“She needed a run around- little mutts’ wound up. Won’t sleep tonight if I don’t tire her out…”

The rest of the men smirk to themselves- Price always knew to trust his intuition.

And when day seven came around, Simon didn’t mention anything. Price knew he never forgets anything, so he was actively avoiding it. Avoiding having to admit he maybe, just maybe… liked having her around. He knocks twice on his office door, a gruff, “come in” allowing him to enter the Lieutenant’s space. Price does a quick scan of the room, eyes landing on the prize.

She’s cuddled up on a bed Simon had ordered for her, the pastel pink standing out like a sore thumb in Simon’s dull, grey office. The bed is nicer than his own, two blankets decked out with floral patterns covering the pillowy surface, a small teddy bear tucked under her chin as she sleeps the evening away.

One look is all Price needs, his eyes plead both, “Don’t even start,” with, “Please don’t make me give her up.”

“Made a friend?” Price teases, opting for a softer approach. He has no intent of taking her away, just wants his soldier to admit, that maybe he in fact, was wrong.

 “Like you wouldn’t believe…”

Word Count: 662

[ghostlyangels1204]

⋆𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 '𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵' 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺⋆- 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Oneshots/Drabbles/Requests (From new to old):

Happy Simon

Simon's Furry Missile

The Moment Simon Riley Came Home

Brutal Ghost, But Soft Simon

[ghostlyangels1204]

⋆ℂ𝕒𝕗𝕖 𝕍𝕚𝕓𝕖𝕤⋆ („• ֊ •„)

Credit for text dividers goes to the amazing: @cafekitsune

⋆ Hiya, my name is Somr (alias) and I'm 19 from England. I've had a lot of prior tumblr accounts and I wanted to finally start writing for fun! I'm an aspiring law student, I want to go into human rights and international law when I graduate <3

I also have a substack blog where I write about current affairs/news as an independent jounalist. I'd love it if you could check it out if you're interested!

I also have a sticker shop on Redbubble, where I design bookish-type stickers!

Substack here: CitizenConnect

Redbubble shop: DalilahMeadows

Boring rules here but please adhere to them,

No hate, obvious one is obvious but this blog and anyone who engages is all in good fun. The world is dark as it is so lets have some good vibes going!

If a post is indicated as MDNI, and you are a minor or don't have your age listed in bio, then please follow this rule for both of our comfort and safety.

Requests will be open, unless indicated otherwise, and do know if I'm uncomfortable with any requests they won't be entertained unfortunately.

Requests I won't take: Anything with an age gap involving one party being a minor (consenting adult age gap is different and I'll gladly do that)

I can write smut, but nothing involving-

Scat

Animals

Extreme Violence in a sexual setting

Non-con

ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴜᴛʏ (ᴍᴡɪɪ + ɪɪɪ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Captain John Price

Sergent Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish

Sergent Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick'

Attack On Titan

Incorrect Quotes

[ghostlyangels1204]

The moment Simon Riley came home.

Cont: Fluff, vague and quick mentions of blood, death (he's a soldier, I mean), Simon being more Simon than Ghost. <3 He's a precious, deadly soldier :(

The moment Simon walked through the door, he felt the tension lift off his shoulders. All the weight of the world had rested upon them since he left months ago; blood, death and bullets surrounded him. Finding him in the dark, hunting him down.

But now, he could leave that all behind him. He could leave his worries, stress; all of it, tucked away in his rucksack that stank of the battlefield. He drops it to the floor, the thud emanating down the halls. With a roll of his tense shoulders, he walks through the house- on the hunt. Searching.

You usually waited for him, perched on the sofa with a cup of tea; one of your favorite trashy shows playing in the background, like you were watching it with him. But, this time, he can’t hear anything. He can’t hear the loud laughs from the TV, can’t hear your sickly sweet giggles. He feels as if he’s gone deaf. It is late, he reasons with himself. Maybe you fell asleep?

And with no lights on in the house, his mind goes into mission-mode. You’re the prized package, and he needs to find you. He turns what feels like corner after corner, round and round, waiting to see just a glimpse of the life he left here. But nothing.

With long strides, he turns into the living room, face to face with the mountain of pillows left in a basket in the corner of the room. The pillows he all but begged you not to get, “Love, we already have enough pillows, we don’t need two more. The sofas gonna’ be like a bloody bouncy castle,”. If 141 could see how you’d wrapped him around your finger- they’d ask Laswell if the Cartel had cloned him, opting to swap one of their own for the monster on the battlefield that is, Lieutenant Ghost. Anything to keep you happy, that was his motto. And those pillows, as gaudy and expensive as they were, did just that.

As he flicks the lamp adjacent to the sofa on, his vision tunnels.

There.

There you are. You had waited for him. You kept your promise, and he kept his.

He tightens the laces of his boots, the cotton nearly snapping from how tightly he winds them out of his own frustration. You’re standing right there, right in front of him, watching as he prepares once again. Like his own obedient little soldier. “You promise you’ll come back to me?”, “As long as you’re there waiting, my love.” And that was it, with a firm, but delicate- you all over, he quips- kiss from your lips to his, a mark of his strength, he walks out the door. Leaving his little soldier behind.

But now, he’s here. And so are you, curled up with a blanket, deep in the throes of sleep. Whispered breaths leaving your lips as you dream. He can’t help but feel like he’s in his own dream.

Slowly, and as quiet can be- Simon walks over to your sleeping figure, and drops down beside you. His face resting on your stomach, inhaling your sweet scent, anything to ground him. For him to recognize where he is.

That’s the moment, Simon Riley came home.

Word Count: 542

[ghostlyangels1204]

Brutal Ghost, a man built for battle. Cold, detached, unemotional Ghost, scaring every new recruit off with a single glare. Moody, brooding Ghost who doesn’t entertain small talk that doesn’t interest him. A sergeant adopted a puppy? Uninteresting. Someone is going for tea with their grandmother? Don’t care. Ghost who Price silently worries about, all the time.

But,

Simon Riley who crashes into bed with you, his large, cold hands coming under your shirt to steal your warmth away. His chest vibrating with a chuckle as you gasp, failing to squirm away from his cold touch before he pulls you closer to him.

Simon Riley who wakes up before you, his feet slapping against the pavement in the light morning sun, running just a little faster than during his mandated drills, to get home to you just a little quicker.

Simon Riley who wakes you up with a steaming cup of your morning brew, settling down by your side, his hand sweeping your hair away from your face to gaze at you. Kisses peppered all over your face, a soft smile growing as he watches your nose scrunch up from the interruption of sleep.

Simon Riley who puts your favourite mugs on the highest shelf, the one you can’t reach, just so you can ask for his help. “There ya’ go shorty,” a wry smile on his face as you grumble at his quip.

Simon Riley who just HAS to have a hand on you at all time. His digits engulfing yours when you walk around shops together. A soft hand resting on your lower back as you wash dishes. He grasps your hip, his face nesting in the crook of your neck as you both rest on the sofa after a long day of doing nothing.

Simon Riley who seldom uses your name, a grumble of, “darlin’”, or “angel”, maybe even a, “my love” bouncing off the walls of your shared space.

Simon Riley who wanders local markets in his free time, spotting something sparkly that is way too expensive, only to walk home with a small bag in his hand containing the pretty gift for his pretty girl.

Simon Riley who is convinced the dryer is eating his shirts and hoodies, only to spot you curled up on the couch engulfed by the offending ‘missing’ article.

Simon Riley who sends you pictures of fluffy little cats who saunter up to him on his morning runs, seemingly unintimidated at his gargantuan size, just to imagine the smile and giggle you let out when you see them.

Simon Riley who was made for unwavering devotion to you.

[ghostlyangels1204]

Captain John Price icons

• icons from the MW3 campaign • like/reblog if u save :)

[ghostlyangels1204]

Crdts: Mik_do

Ghost: ...

Soap:-I'm sorry ~~...

[ghostlyangels1204]

Happy Valentine's! Ghost/Val

(oc medic Ghost's girlfriend) belongs to AliaTurin

All the artworks I did so far of them. ^^

[ghostlyangels1204]

i drew this as fast as i could

[ghostlyangels1204]

Ghost: So I'm sitting there.. barbecue sauce on my titties.

Roach, the first one to break into constant laughter and rolls on the floor:

Jade, laughs too but she turns around to a wall and bangs it:

Soap, tries to hold it in but he's snickering:

Price, literally tired of their shit: Why are you guys like this—

IM CACKLING I'M SORRY KHUSHI THIS IS SO FUNNY I GOTTA DRAW IT.

(Also read that in Ghost's cockney accent trust me it's 1000% funnier)