biteheadphones

[biteheadphones]

pulease

this is the money dog, repost in the next 24 hours and money will come your way!!

[biteheadphones]

Save me,,, Ghoap smut,,,, save me.

[biteheadphones]

This is like beyond Trump levels of overtly lying, only it’s been like this for several months.

[biteheadphones]

[biteheadphones]

I really think everyone needs to truly internalize this:

Fictional characters are objects.

They are not people. You cannot "objectify" them, because they have no personhood to be deprived of. They have no humanity to be erased. You cannot "disrespect" them, because they are not real.

[biteheadphones]

yes absolutely turn off the option for AI to use your tumblr to train itself but also since i'm pretty sure nothing will really stop it let me just announce that i'm about to get really weird up on here. wanna train AI on this tumblr? get ready for 4,000 perfectly timed posts all consisting of the word cock

[biteheadphones]

limitations (part 2)

early access + nsfw on patreon

[biteheadphones]

Bro you cannot just drop prep/jock soap and goth ghost and dip. We need you to give us your brain worms so we can analyze it like a science project

When you have time of course

I will put my worms in a petri dish for you

Soap was an artist! He liked sketching and painting and the act of making art. But he didn't like art essays. The explaining over and over again each detail. Breaking down everything until it felt like a bunch of paint strokes instead of art.

But part of an art degree is a ton of art essays. So Soap went to the museum to write what he needed. He preferred museums to finding art online. A big part of art for him was texture. His preference would've been to touch the art, to feel the paint underneath his fingers. But the assignment specified art from the Baroque period and therefore they had to be older and no museum was going to allow his grubby hands to touch the art.

Soap glanced down one of halls to see if there was anything interesting there when he faltered.

Oh lord.

The man was big. His shoulders. His height. The thighs he had that looked like tree trunks. It was all covered in tight black fabric and silver chains. A work of bloody art himself.

Soap had to hold himself back from wolf whistling.

Once he was done objectifying admiring the man's body, he looked higher up. There was a mask covering the bottom of his face, the only thing visible being his eyes which had heavy eyeliner on them. He could still see the locs of bleached blond hair that surrounded him like a halo.

Soap wanted to paint him.

"You gonna stare all day?" Someone snarked at him and he jumped, glancing at a slightly smaller blond man. He looked at him like he was gross and for a brief moment, he worried he might be about to be hate crimed. The man looked a lot the other one actually now that he was looking closer. Dressed the same way too.

"Aye, what's your fucking problem with it?"

The man's face scrunched. "Ew." He walked away, leaving Soap rather confused but now a bit determined to talk to mystery man.

Pretending to be looking through the paintings, he got closer to him.

Dark brown eyes quickly glanced over at him before glancing back at the paintings.

"Hey. My name is Soap."

"Ghost."

Ooh, he's from Manchester and sticks with his aesthetic. Nice. He'd prefer a not British person, but as far as British people go, he could do worse than Manchester. He glanced at the painting Simon had been admiring.

The Raising of Lazarus by Rembrandt.

"It's a lovely painting." Soap put on his normal charm, acting suave and polite.

"Aye." Ghost gruffed and went quiet again, staring in simple contemplation. His arms were crossed, making already large arms flex.

Soap started to take notes for his assignment. Although he was definitely hoping to score well in more than one ways, he did need to take notes for his assignment.

Ghost glanced over at what he was writing quizzically and Soap answered the unasked question. "I'm doing a project."

"Fun." He huffed and looked back at the painting.

Soap looked down at his chest and licked his hips. "Yeah, it's a good one." He kept writing stuff. "You a college student?"

"Yeah."

"What do you study?"

"Forensics. I'm assuming you're art?"

"Chemistry with a minor in art!" Right as Soap went to mention how funny it was that they didn't share any classes, Ghost interrupted him.

"Wait. Johnny? Johnny MacTavish? We share several classes."

Soap brightened. "Do you dress like this all the time?" There was zero chance he did or Soap would already know his name, address and dick size.

"We have morning classes together. I don't dress up for morning classes." Ghost said decisively. He stretched and shook his head.

How did he manage to not notice the shoulders though at least? The man was huge. He was also several inches taller than Soap and therefore the majority of the class. Maybe if he sat in the back and left later than everyone?

Soap nodded. "Understandable. You look nice."

"Nice huh?" Ghost smiled at him. He could tell cause his eyes scrunched slightly.

"Yeah. Nice." Soap said softly, his chest doing something weird.

They stared at the painting a while before Ghost pulled away to start exploring the rest of the exhibit.

Soap finished up the notes he needed to write his paper and then started to walk with him. He tried to find his opening during all of this.

Ghost stopped at a very specific painting.

ARTEMESIA GENTILESCHI, JUDITH SLAYING HOLOFERNES, C. 1612–1613

The art was... stunning. The red, faded from time and wear, was still beautiful against the white of the blankets.

The women held him down and there was a movement to it that Soap wanted in his own work. His fingers trembled with the want to touch it. To feel the texture of the paint under his fingers. Ridges and bumps and smooth layers of the different strokes.

Ghost hummed. "I don't really get art. It's pretty but some people look at it and it... gives them something. An epiphany."

Soap hummed. "I find touching it helps."

Ghost looked at him, raking his eyes over him. "I see. Do you want to head out then?"

Soap frowned. "Why?"

"You're a piece of art and I'm looking for an epiphany."

#idk about you but I'd propose on the spot #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #free palestine #ghoap au #ghostsoap #kyle gaz garrick #soapghost #ghoap #mlp g4

[biteheadphones]

I noticed today that the deadname of a client was clearly visible in their client file because it was their legal name, and flagged it for IT. I specifically flagged it as "Hey, if someone sees this and calls our client the wrong name, we'll lose them as a client." IT emailed me back immediately, and it's now invisible except on their contract with us, which the majority of us don't have direct access to, as opposed to their client file.

The reason I flagged it framing it as a loss is that what matters to most companies is money. If you can flag a bigoted practice as something that will lose customers, clients, or get them a lawsuit, that is significantly more likely to get taken care of quickly than trying to appeal to their better nature. I could have flagged it as "Hey, this is going to make our client really upset if they hear it.", which was my actual motivation for flagging it, but if I had, then it probably would have been taken care of in a few days or even weeks, not hours.

Always hit them with the profit argument for quick and decisive action.

[biteheadphones]

Soap:"if we were in a horror movie I'd want to be a double kill so that our blood mixes together and the last thing I feel is your skin against mine."

Ghost:"that's the hottest thing someone has ever said to me"

Roach:"what the fuck?!"

[biteheadphones]

[biteheadphones]

loaf ....

i take commissions btw

[biteheadphones]

On April 30th while reporting on the Students Revolution at Columbia University, CNN anchor Kasie Hunt made reference to Hind Rajab as 'A Woman Who Was Killed in Gaza." Hind Rajab was six years old.

[biteheadphones]

[biteheadphones]

thinkin about how soap, who grew up a devout catholic, may have felt when he arrived at the church in las almas. he’s halfway to death’s door, committed more sins tonight alone than most do in a lifetime. there’s blood on his hands and only some of it is his own. he can see ghost, his savior, through the gates, and he thinks there’s probably a metaphor there, but he’s too hopped up on adrenaline and blood loss to think about it. for a moment he feels like a kid again, except instead of praying for good grades or sisters that don’t make fun of him, he’s praying that he makes it out of there alive.

then ghost vaults himself over the gate like a fucking cat, and they’re moving again. soap feels a bullet graze himself somewhere but he barely even registers it. he wishes he had had time to go inside the church. he hadn’t been in years- his prayers had long since been confined to his shitty bed in the barracks.

ghost is yanking him by the wrist to cover and it feels like holding hands to say grace over dinner.

[biteheadphones]

"being queer is about love" hmm actually being queer is about defying societal norms about gender and sexuality and does not depend on feeling love at all

[biteheadphones]

I know I shouldn’t be so upset about this but it pisses me off when people use the term “asexual” to describe a lack of romantic attraction or just assuming all asexuals lack romantic attraction because for me it’s like using the term “lactose intolerant” to describe an allergy to polyester.