Ghost, Farah And Gaz

Some Price requests for Night Fairy & Bayeis 🤍🫡

For years, Price remained the only person on Ghost’s emergency contact list. Price practically had to bully Ghost into getting put on there too. Then comes Soap, who makes his way on there like he belonged there. The scotsman was always so good at that type of thing. It’s been almost a year since Soap died. Ghost has been more reckless on ops, he knows it. This time, it lands him in the hospital. The staff says there’s two people on his emergency contact list, but Ghost knows only one could ever answer the call. He can’t bring himself to take Soap off. Ghost still pays Soap’s phone bill to hear his voice mail.

Wish you all a beautiful day with this lil sketch 💛

and a lil something spicy that was meant for the zine~

seeing straight men be disgusted by booktok smut recommenders has actually radicalized me to the side of booktok smut recommenders. girls your taste may be atrocious but i will never disparage you for exposing mainstream discourse to the concept of soaking through your underwear. spent my whole life listening to men talk about penises it’s about time they get jumpscared by women talking about pussy in crude detail on social media. go forth and goon my warriors

more seal soap, but this time he brought a friend 💀

John price has a needlessly big bed.

Something the rookies and others like to winge about. "What is it with Captains and higher up needing huge beds?"

Contrary to the rumours, John didn't feel he needed a huge bed for power reasons, or to feel important.

No he just valued his large bed because every night at least one of his team, if not all three other team members would crawl their way into his bed in the middle of the night.

And a single bed just really wouldn't fit 4 muscular tall military men.

Simon Riley got his fingers fucked up. Time spent under Roba's torture messed up the joints, made his digits barely able to flex and curl and left him with chronic pain, especially once the temperatures start to drop. It's alright, not the worst thing he came out of that encounter with, he can live with it. Doesn't bother him even that much.

It's just that Simon Riley used to love knitting.

Soft, creamy white, thick yarn turning into volumunous sweaters with huge warm collars his mother and his brother's bird could wear, safe from the nasty winter chill. Stripey socks, comfortable hats, long fluffy scarves - he could and would do it all.

Roba took it from him. Knitting needles became almost impossible to hold properly, struggling over the yarn mess for more than 15 minutes pisses him off and makes him never want to pick it up again. He can barely make a couple rows of a shitty excuse of a scarf, let alone finish a single thing.

And then Soap brings his LT over to his family home for their joint leave - two whole weeks in a household full of bustling life, hearty food and loving banter. In the evenings, when Johnny and all the younglings of the family have already spent their buzzing energy and are snoring in their beds, sometimes piled up like tired puppies, Simon and Mama MacTavish both are kept up by their insomnia. In a pleasantly dimly lit living room, this beautiful woman with white hair and noble profile sits, kitting - soft white wool of Highlands' best sheep turning into a sweater in her hands.

Simon comes to sit with her, calmed down by the sounds her needles make and the hypnotizing movements of her hands. First couple of nights he just lets it lull him to sleep before Mama MacTavish sends him off to wam bed with her snoring son already sprawled across it like a starfish.

Then Simon picks up needles himself. It's a slow, torturous process, his grip slipping, threads coming apart, frustration and anger at his useless fingers building - yet Mama's hands always come to rescue. She soothes the pain in his fingers, helps fix uneven loops, tells him stories of Johnny's childhood to distract Ghost from his angry mind. It works.

By the end of the leave he presents Soap the ugliest knitted hat with pompoms stitched to it in a row resembling a mohawk, and you bet Johnny wears it all the time, flexing in front of everyone who sees him in this monstrosity. He takes it to all the places he shouldn't, stubbornly unwilling to part with the gift, and loses pompoms - yet somehow Simon constantly sees new ones pop up on the hat.

It's Mama MacTavish stitching them on, because she knows, Simon needs a little help with this painstaking work for now.

Ghost: Johnny- Put it DOWN

Gaz: We can talk about this! You don't have to do this

Soap, holding a electric razor near his head: It's happening fellas. Time for a new look

Ghost: No no no-

Gaz: Be reasonable!

Price, walking in: What's going on?

Soap: I'm going to buzz my hair off

Price: Oh... do it

Soap: *turns the razor on*

Ghost & Gaz: NOOOOO-

Price: WAIT-