#\\ : — bile yer heid! no secrets from me.

[scurged]

HEADCANON. / no matter how much you try to convince scourge, because they have lasher’s well-being as their priority, killing and eating isn’t something they will stop doing if talked through enough. kabiguru’s tried, kabiguru’s fought— and scourge will not budge. if they believe someone’s evils outweighs their living self, it’s the only avenue for them.

[ravenmichaelisstuff]

I imagine that Soap worked /hard/ to figure out how Ghost likes his tea.

Ghost wouldn't just tell him because he enjoyed seeing the sergeant becoming more and more frustrated with the fact that he couldn't get it right.

But Soap wasn't planning on giving up, when he is sets his mind on something he will eventually achieve it. He tried every single type and flavor of tea he found, he tried making it with milk and without it. Soap tried adding lemon. Ghost looked at him in disgust when he noticed a slice of citrus in his tea. Soap changed the sugar from normal to brown, he tried several types of honey.

Ghost was adamant saying that he still had it wrong.

One day Soap sat on Ghost's desk when the Lieutenant worked on some paperwork work. Ghost had his mask pulled up, sipping on his perfectly made tea. Soap talked to Ghost about the call he got from his sister, filling the office with noise.

Ghost pretended to be annoyed, but he appreciated Soap's company, his closeness. It was actually helping him with getting through the work faster since his mind wasn't occupied by all his unpleasant thoughts. Soap filled his mind with stories from his day, funny or not so funny attempts at jokes and his family drama.

Ghost was sure that he knew way to much about the MacTavish household than someone who was never a part of it should. Sometimes he wished he could be a part of it, to meet all the people Johnny spoke so highly about.

Soap looked at the cup of tea, scanning it like it held some big secret.

"You won't get it right just from looking at it, Johnny."

"I am painfully aware, Lt."

"Giving up, already?"

"Ohh, It's not at all what I said. I have a plan to make your tea better than how you make it."

Ghost crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "I would love to see that, Johnny."

Soap looked determinated but his fingers were tapping the desk in a frantic rythm- clearly stressed.

"Yeah?"

"You can go make it now, my cup is almost empty."

"Sure thing." But Soap didn't move, he grabbed Ghost's cup and drank the rest of the tea.

"Wha-" Suddenly Ghost was being yanked up from his chair by his collar. Their lips connected.

And oh yeah, Ghost could taste tea on Soap's lips but it wasn't what he was focused on. He could taste Johnny, Johnny's hand was caressing his cheek and God did the constant pulling on his collar do things to him.

Soap was the first to pull away- only a little bit so their noses still brushed against each other. Ghost's eyes were closed, lost in feeling. He could feel Soap's breath on his lips.

"Was it good enough, Simon?"

"Never had better, Johnny." Whispered Ghost.

"Ye can get more, if ye want." Soap smiled brightly, putting his hand on Ghost's chin to make him look up.

"Yes, please."

+ bonus

"So... Will you tell me now how you really drink your tea?"

"You made it perfect the forth time you tried. I just enjoyed your struggle."

"Ah, go 'n' bile yer heid!"

I am sorry for any mistakes, I read it two times but my dyslexia is not helping 👀 I hope you like it ❤️

[thunderousavery]

Make You Mine (Ghost x Soap) Pt. 3

CW: Blood, Curse words

A/N: Take this as a little plot rewriting of MWIII. It's like a what-if, and you'll see what I mean by that. Description: Johnny and Simon meets the one that put them in the corner. Main Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish Side Pairing: König x Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin Word Count: 2.2k

Chapter 3 - In the night, we’ll take a walk

“Did I sound good, mein Schatz? Was I fantastisch with striking fear into our enemies’ hearts?” König switched his frequency back to his teammate, his voice sounding too eager and excited for praise.

“They are British, König. They are not Americans.” Horangi mentally facepalmed as he steadied his sniper rifle at the building, particularly on the first floor now. As annoying as his Colonel was, he can’t exactly stay mad with him. He doesn’t have the will to be angry at such a naïve souled soldier like König despite posing a high rank.

“Ah, es ist genau dasselbe.” The German Colonel groans behind his mask before radioing back to their now supposed hostages for what they wanted.

They need the intel as much as the other. And if they had to kill them, they’ll do whatever it takes.

For sustenance.

For their lives.

For KorTac.

----------

“KorTac? Who the bloody hell are these guys?” Simon growled under his breath through the tingling pain on his shoulder and irritation as Johnny told him the conditions their enemy wanted them to comply with. They didn’t anticipate this. Laswell nor Price ever informed them about another group wanting Makarov’s whereabouts. The intel holds everything: bombs, potential missile locations, possible Russian secret cell sites, and most especially, Makarov’s last known locations.

And now, they’re forced into a deep corner. Still in the staircase room, but their enemies had already secured the first floor. There’s nowhere else to go. They may be out of sight just now, but there’s no telling when they’ll be raided by these KorTac guys.

Are they mercenaries hired to gather intel about Makarov as well? Or are they following another selfish leader?

Johnny couldn’t quite answer his questions just yet. He’s still negotiating with a so-called Colonel behind the radio, and it’s not looking good for them.

“Simple conditions, ja? The intel in exchange for your safety. We’d even get your partner fixed up.”

“Away n’ bile yer heid!” Johnny scoffed, and Simon felt an unknown pride swell in his chest for that. His aggressive Scottish accent was showing, and for once, he felt really damn proud of his insult.

They knew better than to trust that kind of offer.

There was an annoyed sigh behind the line. “Amerikanisch, you’re not making this easy.”

“Ah’m fuckin’ Scottish, ya fuckin’ dumbass!”

“Let me… talk to the shithead,” Simon said as he tried to get back on his feet but failed to do so as he stumbled back, the sharp pain on his injury still lingered like chaos. He groaned as his back hit the wall, making Johnny turn to him and immediately move beside him once more.

“No, no. L.T., ah can handle this, alright? No need to get ya so worked up.” The Scot gently helped him sit down on the floor once more.

“I will…! Argh…”

“Oh, how sweet. Is he dying? Advance condolences, Soldat.” The mocking tone of the Colonel sent a maddening shudder to Simon’s body.

“Shut… the fucking hell up!” Simon managed to wretch a scream as he panted from the pain, sweat soaking his mask profusely.

“Ghost. Ghost, breathe. Steady breaths, L.T.,” Johnny spoke in comfort as he placed a hand on his heaving chest after he turned off the radio for a moment. But Simon couldn’t comprehend his words through the pain. So, he reached to lift the mask, at least just up to his nose, but the Brit immediately grabbed his hand tightly like an alert soldier that he was.

Simon realized what he was about to do and wanted to say no. No one has ever touched his mask before. Sure, Johnny and the others already saw his face in Las Almas, but he’d never let anyone lay a finger on the only thing that protected the visage of his traumas and past.

He could never… No one could ever break the walls that he built. No one could get past the Ghost and live to see the day.

“Ah won’t take the mask off, L.T. Just let me help ya breathe. Just up yer nose, aye?”

But Johnny’s voice. His voice worried for his own sake. It was soothing and comforting at this moment. Maybe it’s because of the agonizing pain, maybe because there was not enough oxygen getting in his brain to think clearly. But Simon knew he wasn’t trying to break in; he was knocking for his heart, to the door of his trust.

For the days, weeks, and months they’ve partnered up as Lieutenant and Sergeant, only one thought came to Simon like a flash before his eyes. Johnny never left him without looking back and had always been there for him.

His brown eyes, rimmed with red, closed briefly before he nodded. Permission was given to let him in his heart, even just for this time.

“Thank you, Simon. Yer gonna be okay, ya hear?”

And in return, Johnny gave him that smile again. A smile brighter than his own dark life, a beacon of his salvation. And it’s the only thing Simon wants to hold onto for now, giving him hope for humanity for a second time.

Calloused yet gentle hands lifted the damp hem of the balaclava mask, lifting it slowly up to Simon’s scar-tipped nose. The Brit shivered slightly at his touch, and Johnny was careful not to glide his fingers against the Glasgow smile curled from the corner of his lips or the other scars.

Simon thanked him in his mind for not commenting on what Johnny was seeing at the moment. For not feeling the fear that everyone else felt when they saw his true face.

So many scars were inflicted on a single man just to be turned into a weapon of war.

“J-Johnny…” That was never the first time Johnny heard his name spoken in a tone broken and filled with longing. But it was the first time he heard it from Simon, his Lieutenant with a cold heart and merciless soul.

“Breathe fer me. In and out, Simon.” Johnny’s voice was really soothing.

And breathe he does. His chest slowed down from heaving, only rising and falling steadily and slowly.

“Good. Good. Yer doing good, mo ghràdh.” Simon hated his Scottish accent or even his Gaelic, but not for this moment. He’s starting to like it, even. But he doesn’t know Gaelic, though. He knew many languages for the sake of his dangerous job, but not that one.

Maybe he’d ask Johnny about that later. Never did he hear that one before, but he’d kick his ass if he knew that was an insult.

“Let’s get ya up. Ah know it hurts, but we need to get outta here.”

“And what do you think we should do? Give the intel up?” Simon looked at him in a mix of surprise and concern. Even he doesn’t know what to think about their situation anymore.

“… They’re not giving us a choice,” Johnny sighed as he helped put back the vest on him. “But we’ll walk outta here alive. Ah also regret destroyin’ the computer to shit. Shoulda knew they’d corner us like this.”

“Actions have consequences, I guess,” Simon grumbled before he reached his uninjured arm for Johnny’s shoulder as he tried to get up. Still, the pain lingered, but with the Scot’s help, he could finally get back on his feet. “Thanks, Sergeant.” He leaned against his smaller frame a bit, hating the fact that he’s a fucking liability now.

“No prob, L.T. Always got yer six.” The Sergeant chuckled before picking up their guns as they walked down the stairs toward the first floor.

And Simon knew that Johnny would never make him feel less of himself.

“Have you contacted Price yet?”

Johnny shook his head and sighed. “They’re jamming the signal. Cannae say how they do it.”

Simon could only hope they can get out here alive. Maybe he’d honor Johnny’s request for a drink later.

----------

They were greeted with the loud car alarms from outside once more. And as expected, Johnny spots the green laser tag of the sniper again, this time pointed at his chest. The bastard wasn’t taking any chances, he thought.

The main hall was how they could remember it looked when they initially infiltrated it: wide and littered with the dead bodies of Russian guards on the cold floor. This building, hidden away near the main country borders, wasn’t supposed to be a haven for Ultranationalists, and yet Johnny and Simon did good work turning the place into their graveyard.

But aside from Russian terrorists led by Makarov, there seems to be another underlying group that they don’t know of.

KorTac.

“Ah, I see euer Freund here has returned from the dead.”

The car alarms went silent in an instant before the familiar voice spoke.

A tall figure then appeared from the shadows. Taller than Simon, perhaps, maybe more than 6 feet, and bulkier too. A hood-like mask covered his face with red streaks below the eye holes. He also wears body armor, seemingly matching that of Simon’s that hugged his bulky figure.

If Johnny could tell, he’d think KorTac is a mercenary group like Grave’s Shadow Company. But this guy… This guy seemed far more dangerous, and it almost sent shivers to know he was the Colonel he talked with on the radio.

“Why do ya want the intel?” Johnny sneered as he clutched his weapon, but the German Colonel tsked as he held his gloved hand up like a sign, instantly making the laser tag move to the Scot’s forehead.

“I suggest you drop your weapon, Soldat. No need to have some brain matter splat on the floor.”

A growl emanated from Simon’s throat.

 The Colonel laughed darkly as he crossed his arms to my chest. “Aww… Did I make your ugly mutt mad? He looks like he needs a tighter leash.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you…” The Lieutenant sent him a deadly glare outmatching his Sergeant’s, his words laced with venomous promise.

“Better keep your word, Hund.” Simon could feel the bastard grinning behind the mask. “The intel, Jungen. It’s better off in our hands than yours. And as I promised, we’ll get you the medical care you need.”

“And why would we believe ya?” Johnny retorted. “Ah could just shoot ya dead, and we get the hell outta here.”

The Colonel raised his gloved hands, indicating something for the duo to see. He had no weapons, nor did he have a sidearm on either side of his hips. He could only use either his raw strength, which clearly could match Simon and Johnny, or signal his sniper teammate from outside to shoot their heads off.

They still have nowhere to run. Johnny could tell that.

“There’s no need for more violence, meine Freunde. Imagine if we could just let go of the hate, ja?” His voice sounded sickeningly try-hard persuasive; it made Johnny’s blood boil.

Let go of the hate? After shooting his Lieutenant and making him bleed to the brink of death? He’d rather go to hell with all the hate in the world.

“We don’t make deals with devils like ya,” Johnny responded, his glare never faltering as he prepared to pull the trigger of his gun.

“… So be it.” One gloved hand formed a fist. It was the signal. To shoot.

Simon gasped as he realized this. “Johnny…!” Every fiber of his being was alerted, and he used all his will and strength to move his bulky body to cover Johnny, shielding him from the bullet that was aimed at his head.

He braced for it. He waited for another pain to shoot through his body, for blood to splatter once more as he stumbled down to the floor.

…

…

…

“… S-Simon?” Johnny was too stunned to even process what Simon did. In mere seconds, he instantly panicked as he tried to ask if the Brit was okay. Because if not, he would never forgive himself if he got hurt again.

… But nothing happened. Simon’s eyes were shut tightly, and his arms encased Johnny to protect him from the world.

But there was nothing. No pain, no bullet, no more blood other than his recent injury.

And then, they could hear the KorTac Colonel talk in a tone that could be described as shocked.

“… WAS?! Was meinen Sie damit, dass wir sie nicht töten sollten?!”

The duo breathed a somewhat relieved sigh before they turned to look at the Colonel. He was frantic with his radio as he kept looking outside as if he was communicating with the sniper.

“I mean, why shouldn’t we kill them, meine Schatz?! They have the intel about—”

He was occupied. Now’s their chance to—

“You!” The Colonel pointed a gloved finger at them and snarled before they could even make a move. “Are you two from 141?! Answer me truthfully!”

Simon was the one to answer, clutching his injured shoulder carefully while Johnny held him in place. “Why the fuck do you want to know?”

“Verdammte Schwachköpfe, we don’t want to be enemies with Captain Price!”

… Things just got more confusing now.

You're in Part 3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4

[dthmet]

It came to me in a dream. /j

I’m only posting this because I need somewhere to put my shenanigans. (And also so my next post makes more sense but shhhhhh secret)

Basically, me and my friends all started playing this Burger game on roblox together in Tf2 cos and it was fun as FUCK

I jokingly said “what if I made a Burger King AU were they all work at burger king” I was gnna write a fanfic (think I still might) about them all instead of being mercenaries, they are burger king employees, and the thought hasn’t left me SINCE.

So, here are some little ideas I thought would be funny to put down somewhere other than my notes app:

Scout chasing Spy around the kitchen areas with a tray, trying to hit him with it. (Actually happened in game, it was funny as fuck)

Medic being weirdly protective over his “area” of the staff room, were he sits and experiments on the food. (Wait, where did he find all of those medical instruments??? And is that… a mutated burger???)

Spy wearing suits or turtlenecks under his uniform, he says it’s because at least SOMEONE has to look presentable in the establishment. (Engie then reminds him he’s working at a Burger King, not a 5 star restaurant. Spy then spends the rest of the work day moping around and mumbling about how “he could’ve done better than this”)

Engineer surprisingly being a clean freak and gets heavily offended when Sniper forgets to wash his hands in the employee bathroom. (After that Engie refused to let Sniper be anywhere near the customers or kitchen until Engie made sure Sniper’s hands were 100% clean.)

Pyro has almost burnt down the whole building MULTIPLE times. Any kind of food you get from them is always somewhat burnt, or has some unwanted candy that pyro got from god knows where lodged into it.

Heavy has scared off so many rude customers, whenever somebody has an issue with an entitled customer who’s just there to complain and scream for their manager, they always call Heavy in to stare them down and calmly (yet intimidatingly) explain that they need to leave— or whatever applies to the situation.

Demo has shown up drunk to work so many times, it’s a miracle he hasn’t been fired yet. But also occasionally if a rude customer tries bothering him, he’ll cuss them out with very slurred Scottish slang/insults— only reason he hasn’t been fired for that yet is because no one can even understand what he said. (“Awa’ an’ bile yer heid! Ye bawbag!”)

Solider is a hit with the middle aged men, he often yells about america and waves the American flag around the building, once Solider had gotten ahold of the speakers in the Burger King and started blasting the American anthem on LOOP. (He was not allowed to uses the speakers again after that.

Sniper is absolutely horrible with the customers, he’s always either saying too much or too little (and usually when he is saying too much it’s because he started panicking, and then told some customer all about how Australia is like, definitely over sharing about his own personal life in Australia). He ends up accidentally putting the customers off of their food by sharing some gross detail about the bugs or animals there, he then sits outside at the back and cringes over how stupid that was of him.

I May return soon with more Burger King AU info… shhhhh

[scurged]

IF YOU WERE A DEITY, WHAT WOULD YOU BE THE GOD OF?

WEATHER AND CALAMITY. tempestuous and fearsome. your moods are hard to read and you strike on a whim. not a soul can avoid you as disasters strike across the land. you have your own standards for what makes sense and what you value and if anyone dares challenge you there will be nowhere for them to run.

tagged by: nicked this from @alchemaxed / tagging: blows a kiss 2 my five followers.

[scurged]

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 (TILL WE GET OUR SHIT TOGETHER!)

sheona 'scourge' king, age seventeen, is kidnapped by the life foundation during an attempt to kidnap an unhoused woman camped nearby. unhoused themselves and highly protective, sheona, addressed as 𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗚𝗘 and/or cur by fellow members of the scene and community, fought off the government agents attempting to kidnap the woman— resulting in them being taken in her place. in the now-conjoined oscorp &. life foundation laboratory, they are given as a host to the 𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗬𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗧𝗘 after four of the symbiotes have been retrieved from whip-web. however, rather than deteriorate under the symbiote's parasitic nature, the two formed a destructive bond; breaking loose ( with some help ) – and refusing to ever be separated. now, at nineteen, they reek havok under the watchful eye of earth-721's whip-web; and perhaps, even in places he cannot reach.

𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗧𝗜𝗗-𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗦:

sheona doesn't go by their birth name unless you are a family member ( not of blood but of bond ) or a romantic partner which is... few. very few. they are AFAB and go by they/them pronouns. transmasc, bisexual, you will call them scourge or cur; there is no in-between. pure, pure scottish. positively impossible not to notice the second you speak to them.

heavily involved in the metal scene. they organize for venues and know lots of bands personally due to years of keeping up-and-around for any punk that needs help. if you need an abandoned place to play music, or hell, to stay— scourge's got yer' back. they are a big crowd-killer though so... maybe don't stand too close.

they've been unhoused for a long time since their mother disowned them at the age of thirteen for things out of their control. when they bond with lasher, they find a security they haven't had in a very long time- so they spend their time in earth-721 doing what kabiguru can't do; which is kill those who won't take no for an answer. they have no moral qualms against killing for another's sake— and if it's for lasher's sake, eating is apart of the menu.

scourge ends up stealing one of the dimensional travel watches' off one of the spidermen that were assigned to a mission on earth-721. when lasher's put in danger due to forces on their earth, scourge flees to earth-616 to prevent the symbiote from being taken away. for now, that is where they reside until the threat subsides.

𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗙𝗨𝗡 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗦:

- they've done all their piercings themselves along with designing of their own clothes. they despise the feeling of most earth-721 fabrics.so, their solution is making their own. for their anniversary of meeting, scourge knitted lasher their own sweater-- it did indeed fit. - hate, hate, hate being touched. if you touch them, lasher will instinctually come out to protect his host. if they initiate contact, you either gotta start counting your days or thanking them. - familial bond with kabiguru that results after realizing that his influence is the reason why they escaped from the life foundation that fateful day. scourge calls him 'dad'. doesn't really see him as dad but it's clear whatever they have going on is affectionate on some level.

[ravenmichaelisstuff]

"Better late than never" part 8

COOKIES

Soap was aware of how much work is on Ghost’s shoulders, the man never gets a break. If he is not commanding a mission on which soldiers have to depend on his decisions, death being a repercussion of even the smallest mistake he could make. Then, he has to put up with recruits at training which is usually a shit show of inexperienced firearm usage and Ghost’s screaming and cursing. On top of that, he had a shit ton of paper works.

Since Soap figured out that he can actually help him with that, he had been doing it more frequently. Often staying late in Ghost’s room to fill out things he needed help with. Ghost never asked for his help, and neither did he say thank you. But Soap knew that he appreciated the help and maybe even his company because halfway through the work Ghost would ask if Johnny wants him to make coffee and they were also spending time together after they were done. There was always a plate of cookies on the desk for Soap to munch on- the cookies were there only when he was around.

Soap loved those cookies, but whenever he asked what brand they were the other men would say that he bought them in the canteen. Which had to be total bullshit since the ones sold there tasted of nothing but cardboard. Soap was certain that Ghost was straight up gatekeeping the brand- which was hilarious to him. But that day was the day he will finally get the brand's name.

“It seems we ur done fur today, Lt.” Soap exclaimed, putting the last document into a file and then stretching his hands above his head. He looked at the empty plate, only crumbs left after he devoured the cookies. “So… the cookies-”

“I told you I got them in the canteen. You sound like a broken record” Ghost cut in.

“No, na ye didn’t ye liar! Those are one of the best food I had and believe me I checked th’ canteen. They have only two brands! Both taste stale!” Ghost just crossed his arms “Ghost with all due respect ye can’t keep this one thing a secret. We speak aboot cookies, nae nuclear codes.”

“Biscuits, not cookies.”

“Oh, go 'n' bile yer heid!” They sat in silence for a second, then Soap eyed the trash bin. “I will go thro’ yer trash to find the packaging.”

“No, you won’t, Soap”

The sergeant stood up. 

“Sergeant…” Ghost warned, but Soap really enjoyed those biscuits. He bend over the bin, ready to inspect it. “Soap, don’t.”

“Ye won’t stop me, I just have to make sure there isn’t anything I don’t wanna stick mah hand in.”

“God give me strength.” Ghost whispered to himself. “You won’t find anything, there is no box, Johnny.” He sounded exasperated.

“Did ye pumpin' burned it or whit?”

“Wha- of course not! I am not you, you pyromaniac.”

“Then- No way!” Soap looked at him with big eyes. Ghost groaned already knowing what was coming. “Ye baked them!?”

“What if? Do you want to comment on it?” Ghost remembered well how everyone usually reacted to this information. They would say it was not a thing for men like him, for men at all. His previous team would burst out laughing if he told them. Of course, he had more faith in 141, in Johnny but his father's words stuck to him like glue. ‘Kitchen is a woman’s place, no wonder you are such a brat. You can’t even be a proper man.’ He would say whenever young Simon would be helping his mother with baking.

Ghost knew it was not true, of course, he did. But words like that stuck, especially when heard at a young age. Especially when followed by a ‘punishment’. 

Ghost didn’t notice when Soap sat again in his chair.

“Oh, ye bet I am going to comment on it. You are keeping those skills from us when all of us could be eating those delights!” Soap was smiling brightly at Ghost, simply happy to get to know something new about his friend. “You make amazing cookies- sorry. Biscuits.” The Scot mocked him and punched his shoulder playfully.

And how could he think that would get any other reaction from Johnny? Ghost blushed under the mask, not ready for the compliment. 

“When do ye bake them? How? Where?”

Ghost fidgeted with the aglet of his hoodie’s strings. “When I don’t get a full night of sleep- which is often. I snuck into the kitchen, nobody will stop me past midnight. I keep the ingredients here so nobody takes them.” He explained.

“Huh.” Soap chuckled. “No one in the right mind takes things from your shelf.”

“Yeah, but custard powder would look weird, wouldn’t it? Besides you literally take my milk every morning.”

Soap smirked. “I am not in the right mind.”

Ghost’s eyes wrinkled in a smile and he shook his head. “Just… don’t go gossiping about it,”

“Will you be making me more?” He raised his eyebrows.

Ghost hummed agreeing.

“We’ve got ourselves a deal, sir.” The sergeant pretended to zip his mouth. “I will have to steal th’ recipe from ye one day and sell it to mah ma’”

Ghost looked at the clock- it was already late. Could they?

“I can teach you now.” He proposed. “If you want.”

Soap was already standing. “Stupid question.”

It was so nice to see someone excited about something he likes. Soap often shares about his hobbies and he is happy to listen. He himself is rather reserved about his interests, so opening up and seeing someone so excited about it? If Ghost was someone else he would hug the Scot.

***

“So what are we making chef?” Soap clapped his hands, leaning on the counter while Ghost was preparing some bowls. Ghost looked at what they had.

“I am thinking bourbon biscuits.” Soap looked like he wanted to say something. “And no, there is no alcohol in them Johnny.”

“Pity.” 

“Go wash your hand, we will make the dough first.” After they did that Soap grabbed his phone and put on some quiet chill music, he didn’t want to push their luck. 

Ghost instructed Soap which dry ingredients he should be mixing first while Soap swayed side to side to the music, listening. Soap did exactly as Ghost told him, carefully measuring like he was building a bomb. Ghost said to add whole flour which would be alright if he didn’t dump it all at once in the sieve the lieutenant. A cloud of white powder covered them both.

Ghost took a deep breath and exhaled some of the powder. He could hear Soap trying to hold his laughter. He turned to scold him, but he was met with flour being blown straight at his balaclava. Soap was straight-up cackling at this point.

“Now ye are a real ghost!” He said between wheezing.

Ghost took some flour from the counter and messed Soap’s mohawk with it.

“Oi!”

They messed with each other like that for a while, when Ghost actually looked around. 

“Ok, stop. Price will kill us when he walks in here tomorrow.”

Soap had to have the last word. He grabbed the base of Ghost’s mask. Ghost panicked a little- ready to push Soap away. Luckily he only pulled at it a little to suddenly let it- causing the flour to lift from it.

“We will clean up later, Lt.” He came back to swaying his hips.

Ghost let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Soap bumped their hips together, prompting Ghost to relax and sway with him while they continued.

Ghost had to bite his cheeks to not smile like an idiot.

And for Soap the biscuits were no longer the prize, seeing Simon all domestic and relaxed while speaking about all types of flour and which one is his favourite? That was priceless.

***

Task Force 141 drank their morning drink of choice with the addition of perfectly baked biscuits.

I am really happy with this one <3 I am sorry for the late update but I have less and less time. I love reading your comments and thoughts on the fic <3

Also, I thought I will mention that I have a Ko-Fi now if someone feels like buying me some coffee. I am saving for university!