The Quote Retweets On Misha's Tweet Are NOT Holding Back Oh My God

Clip of Pedro's interview; House Comes With a Bird

Source: miu miu YouTube

what a week huh?

I'm so happy for him 🦇

bfu fans when the ghost files teaser comes out after days of us crying over unsolved’s finale:

Different Timezones

John 'Soap' MacTavish / fem!Reader

Summary:  Johnny is unusually quiet during a mission. Ghost suspects it has something to do with the Polaroid firmly tucked into his wallet.

Content:  pure fluff, long-distance relationships, pining, civilian girlfriend

Word Count:  1.2k

Notes: I CAN'T STOP WRITING THESE, the COD lads have me in their clutches. This weekend I had so much time to let all the creative juices out and I just want to thank you all for the crazy warm welcome to the fandom!

The way the grass smells at night And you've got flames all in your eyes As they reflect the sparkler And you say we'll never die

Johnny's leg kept bouncing restlessly next to Ghost, irritating him to no end. 

Gaz and the Captain were chatting in the front of the SUV, tinted glasses dulling the relentless desert sun outside. There was music playing through the radio and the hot breeze wafting in from the cracked open windows gave Simon some much-needed relief under his gear. 

When the Scotsman pulled out his phone for the tenth time in what felt like minutes and then shifted a worn leather wallet from one hand to the other, Ghost couldn't resist throwing him the deadliest glare he could muster. Which, when it came down to it, was quite lethal. 

But Johnny didn't look back at his Lieutenant, attention solely on the small square that was glued to the dark leather, index brushing over the frayed edges. Usually, Ghost was not one to pry into the private life of his comrades, but Soap's silence combined with the longing look in his blue eyes was so unusual, he simply couldn't resist glancing down at the picture himself.

It was a little blurry, with Johnny only taking up half the frame. His arm was slung over the shoulder of a pretty woman, with a wide smile and eyes that almost disappeared from how hard they were laughing together. 

"That your missus?" Ghost asked quietly, voice not as rough as it usually was.

Startled, Johnny looked up from his phone, before sliding it back into one of the many pockets of his vest. He threw a glance at the men up front, but neither of them seemed to have heard Simon's question. 

Reluctantly, he handed over his wallet and Ghost took great care not to crease the Polaroid any further, worn as it was.

"Yeah, that's my girl," the Scotsman mumbled, lifting his chin. "It's her birthday today, but timezones are fuckin' annoying, aye?"

Ghost just nodded, inspecting the picture one last time before handing it back to Johnny. 

"Scored way out of your league, Seargent," he smirked behind his mask.

"Oi, careful, L.T.," Soap laughed, then tucked his wallet away and crossed his arms in front of his chest before leaning his head against the cold glass of the jeep. "Gotta catch a few minutes of sleep before it all goes down again, I reckon."

Ghost nodded, giving the other man space as he zoned into the idle conversation that Gaz and the Captain were having instead.

Well, there's blue jeans in the driveway And you're walking inside sideways The wine always affects you in beautiful kind ways Asked me if I'm staying and I say that I'm sleeping on the floor

Meanwhile, John's thoughts circled endlessly around the picture burning a hole in his pocket. Of the woman waiting for him at home, the memory of a party years ago, when she'd kissed him drunkenly for the first time and her friends had taken a picture right after.

Edinburgh had been freezing cold that night, but she'd still only worn a short sparkly dress and tiny heels and John had complained that she'd be hungover and sick the next morning. 

Don't be such a buzzkill, she'd giggled, I thought you'd like it.

Oh, and he did like it, alright. But they were somewhere between friends and definitely interested, with him unsure how his career and a relationship would go and her aloof enough that it was impossible to read her intentions.

But then he'd been singing along to a terrible rendition of the top ten songs of the past decade, the whole pub full to bursting point as they counted down the last few minutes of the old year. And she'd been screaming along next to him, jumping up and down with one of his friends from uni and Johnny had laughed until he felt a little dizzy and grabbed her by the waist to steady her.

She'd looked up at him from behind dark eyelashes with a grin, and then pulled his face down towards her, crushing their mouths together without much finesse but so much passion, that the echoes of it still made him smile.

He'd walked her home that night, laughed some more when she twirled around lamp posts and stumbled a bit. She'd asked him straight out if he was staying the night and John, big idiotic sap that he was, had insisted on the sofa. 

A gentleman, she still teased him to this day. But my pride will never recover.

Soap slid out his phone for the hundredth time in an hour, and saw that it was only a few minutes left now. Irrationally embarrassed, he glanced over at Ghost, who stared out the window in silence but was clearly vigilant. A nudge with his boot got him the attention of the Lieutenant, and dark eyes snapped over to him, then the phone in his hand.

"Would ya mind, you know-" Soap trailed off as Gaz turned around with interest. 

"What is it?" Ghost asked, voice unreadable.

"Totakeapictureofme." He rushed out between clenched teeth, as quietly as possible.

"For your girl." 

It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," he rolled his eyes, already regretting not snapping an awkward angle selfie instead. Gaz gasped and Price's eyes studied him in the rearview mirror as well.

"Soap's got a girl squirrelled away somewhere?" Gaz asked, eyes shining.

"Yeah, far away and safe from nosy bastards like you," he snapped, arms crossed in irritation now but Ghost reached over and tugged the small iPhone from his hands.

"Better fix that face, Johnny, 'm not doin' a photoshoot with you."

"Get the gun!" Gaz smirked, reaching back to tug Soap's AK-47 straight where it rested between his knees and on the back of Price's seat. "Ladies love a proper soldier."

The whole situation was so ridiculous, that Soap couldn't help but laugh. Ghost had a concentrated look on his face as he gave a thumbs-up to him, then the distinct sound of a camera shutter sounded. 

Barely glancing at the photo out of sheer mortification over the three smirking faces in the SUV, Soap hastily typed out a message accompanying the picture and hit send, just as the world clock for Edinburgh turned to midnight on his phone.

🧼: I love and miss you. Happy Birthday, baby.

She opened the message almost immediately and John ignored the teasing comments and laughter from Gaz and Price as he watched the three dots dance next to her name.

💍: Omg.

💍: You look so hot, what the fuck. Best present ever. Come back home soon and be safe! xx

Then a picture of her appeared only moments later, with a silly party hat perched on her head and sparkler in hand. Her brother was saying something next to her, drink in hand and she was beaming into the camera. Soap stroked over the grainy image with his thumb for a moment, smiling. 

Grab me by the hands Just as callused as I am And say you're proud

Soft and silly Scottish men have my whole heart. If you enjoyed it, you can find the rest of my COD masterlist here! (We also got some steamy stuff over there folks 👀)

Song lyrics by Zach Bryan - The Good I'll Do. 🖤 One of my most listened to love songs of all time.

NEXT PART: Same Timezone

pls

Alastair is yammering away like he has been all night in Dean’s head but joke’s on fucking him, words don’t make any sense right now. He was singing the birthday song for a while but it’s just sound now. Dean is the type of drunk where you start losin track of the meaning of words. People say shit to you and they sound like a cartoon playing backwards. Colors are upside down. The floor is moving. He always panics when he gets here. He’s got blacking out on purpose down to a science, but sometimes he takes one shot too much. A step too far. It’s a balance, yeah? You wanna be senseless but not spinning. He’s sitting on the floor in his motel room, back against the wall and both hands pressed to the gross carpet. Maybe his body can explain to his brain that he’s sitting still.

Suddenly, with a slap of blinding electricity, he’s sober. Cas is standing in front of him and Dean is too disoriented to stand up or do anything but sit there like a dumbass.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. What’re you doin here?”

“You were praying to me.”

“No, I was fucking not.”

“I heard my name once. After that, it was just wordless panic.”

“Oh. Just drank too much. Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Wait. Don’t zap away. Sit down.”

Cas stares at him, face unreadable, for an endless moment. Something stops Dean from saying anything. He could look at Cas’ face forever, now that he’s letting himself. He cranes his neck back, watching the weird, sharp shapes of Cas’ face get even weirder and sharper in the moonlight, get even weirder and sharper from this angle. And then Cas sits down on the floor, criss-cross-applesauce. Huh. Must be Jimmy Novak’s muscle memory. Dean can see a strip of his calves at the top of his dress socks. He has to resist the urge to reach out and touch.

“It’s my birthday.” Stupid.

“I know.”

“You’re supposed to say happy birthday.”

Cas tilts his head in that way that Dean is starting to get fond of. “Is it?”

“Yeah, that’s the thing human beings say.”

“You misunderstand me. Is it happy?”

Dean laughs. “Nah, it’s really not. Tried to drink myself to sleep but it didn’t work.”

“I can put you to sleep. I can make sure you don’t dream. My gift to you, as I believe is customary.”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll take you up on that, but first… Um. Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” He doesn’t wanna be alone. Dean feels himself blush. Fuck. “Unless you have angel shit to do.”

“I don’t have… Angel shit to do at this moment.”

Dean spends his thirtieth birthday watching Boondocks Saints with an angel in a dirty motel room. He asks Cas one question about Catholicism and triggers a monologue about the Protestant schism and how Martin Luther was “the most irritating and pedantic man that has ever walked the Earth, including Slavoj Zizek.” Dean laughs himself into a side stitch and Cas smiles back, not confused like you’d think. He was trying to make Dean laugh.

When Dean can breathe again and asks who the hell Slavoj Zizek is, Cas puts on an insane accent: “There is never a ‘right moment’ for the revolutionary act—the act is always, by definition, ‘premature.’” This sets Dean off again, and Cas laughs a little too. Dean hopes it’s his first laugh. He wants that bragging right.

Thirteen years later and one year sober, they watch it again in their living room. Jack sits on the floor working on a Hello Kitty jigsaw puzzle as he watches and Sam definitely isn’t paying attention, texting Eileen in the big armchair. Cas is falling asleep on Dean’s shoulder. Half asleep, he pulls out the Zizek impression again: “The paradox of love is that it is a free choice, but a choice which never arrives in the present—it is always already made.”