mandowh0re

[mandowh0re]

WEEEEEEEEE I LOVE HIM

aqua burst with selkie soap teehee

palettes? again??

jealous seal boy whom i love & adore 💖

(ref)

[mandowh0re]

bringing this back!!

wolverine and deadpool better fuck in this movie

[mandowh0re]

Simon "Ass" Riley

Twitter saw it first

[mandowh0re]

Hi. I am not sure if you are aware but two of your mutuals on twitter that you seem to retweet things from frequently posted untagged non con. I am not sure why it has flown under the radar and everyone seems to just think that sexual assault is funny and hot.

sultrysunset and soapscout. The posts are still up.

you’re welcome to come to me on twitter, as i’m hardly on tumblr and only happened to see this because i was clearing my email.

i don’t follow soapscout, and i haven’t seen it from tenz. if you want to DM me on twitter, feel free.

[mandowh0re]

'eepy time! good night!

[mandowh0re]

Shot through the heart 💘

[mandowh0re]

@support where did all my message threads go??

[mandowh0re]

Slug PRIDE hearts!!! Also made for RWcord! Free to use! Please do not edit or trace my emotes to make your own version!

Like before I’m taking requests for OCs (or pride flags) for 7$ on my ko-fi here! https://ko-fi.com/minkimaro/commissions All funds go towards my foster kittens ^^

[mandowh0re]

why are all my dms on tumblr gone

[mandowh0re]

I’m glad ppl on tiktok are doing ok

[mandowh0re]

SOAP _ _ A _ T _ R AU PART 3

One can only dream right?

This is a def a longer part :)

[mandowh0re]

My favourite hot take is that Simon adapts way better to being a civilian than Johnny does.

Johnny went and left for the army the second he could do so, relentlessly pushed his career and is, most likely, rarely not on base unless he's been told to fuck off or move his arse home (by either his superiors or family).

Simon on the other hand finished school and then took up an apprenticeship before joining the army. Even then he came home, took prolonged leave to help his family out. He spent way more time just living that reality. And even post Roba he was at home for a while before everything went to hell. He might not take a lot of leave since, because he has nothing to come home to, but he still knows to adjust to it.

If they take leave together Ghost settles remarkably well, still keeping an eye open but he's an adult who had time outside the forces to properly adjust to life.

Soap struggles. He gets by with his charm and bright blue eyes, and that's a good thing because he's too explosive, too intense for most normal social interactions.

He's caught somewhere between the 18 year old boy and the hardened SAS soldier and never spent enough time away to really grow into just John MacTavish. Not Sergeant, not Soap, not the FNG. Just him as a person outside of the military.

He navigates this part of his life like its a minefield. Making it through but boy oh boy, it's not looking graceful.

Ghost helps him mellow out in that regard, pointing out the messy weird mechanics of normal civilan life to him. Teaches him to enjoy that and not let his job ruin him. Simon who knows how quickly it can all fall apart can't help to see the beauty in the peace most people get to experience. He'll be damned if he can't share that beauty Johnny. Even if it's always just for a little while.

And because it's Ghost, who never steered him wrong Soap let's himself be led. Allows himself experiences outside of work and his family. And while he might not be eager to admit it, it makes him a better person.

And years down the line when they both made it out, last mission just one too many that was too close for comfort, all of that helps John MacTavish to adjust. Sure he mourns his life in the military, someone like him is bound to, but he's not too worried. He knows how to get by now. And even the days where he feels very out of his depth, he can approach with ease. Because he still has Simon at his side to show him the way forward.

[mandowh0re]

Johnny who gets once in a blue moon migraines that knock him on his ass.

Johnny waking up cocooned in blankets, warm and hazy, alone, Ghost already gone for his morning run around base. Otherwise he'd have his partner imitating an octopus, wrapped around Johnny like there was any possibility of him willingly escaping into the night.

Instead, he stretches under the body-warm sheets to try and relieve the kink in his lower back. It doesn't help much.

He rolls out of bed to begin his day and, upon checking his watch on the night stand table, curses, hurrying through his morning ablutions and out of the barracks toward the kitchen. Ghost must have turned off his alarm to let him sleep a bit longer but Johnny has slept in far later than he usually does with only twenty minutes before the team debrief.

Coffee is too sharp in his nose, makes his stomach roil, knows it's a mistake as soon as he pours a full cup. Keeps it anyway because it's warm. Adding creamer doesn't help, tastes off on his tongue, too pungent, too acidic, the usual two teaspoons of sugar too heavy on his tongue. Ghost notices (he's come in for a tea) but doesn't say anything, watching Johnny's nose scrunch adorably and allowing himself to be used as support when Johnny sags back against his chest, drained.

Aura starts to creep over his vision during the meeting, looking at the projector is hard, his eyes won't focus, keep sliding away to dislodge the spots in his vision. Coffee abandoned, stomach clenching tighter, a bone deep throbbing begins behind his left eye socket. He wants to scoop his eyes out and massage the bone tissue until it stops pulsing.

Meeting wraps up, Johnny is bombarded with the scents of many bodies in a confined space; even freshly showered ones are too much. The florescent lights are too bright and too loud, people's voices are becoming muffled. His notes, when he checks, squinting, are shaky and completely illegible in some places. He quickly flips his notebook closed, tries to stand. Remembers he has recruit training today and desperately asks Gaz to cover. Gaz is concerned, tries to play it normal with a bit of teasing (even as he can see something is wrong) and asks why. Johnny says his head hurts, Gaz cracks a joke or Price says something like "push through it" and Johnny abruptly realizes he's going to hurl in the next five seconds: saliva flooding his mouth, arms going numb, stomach a clenched fist. Ghost shoves the room's wastebasket in front of him before he can throw up on Gaz's boots. Spits up watery coffee and bile. Shivers wrack his frame as he hugs the trashcan for dear life.

Price sends him back to his room after Johnny fights going to medical, he knows what's happening, what he needs is a pitch dark room and peace and quiet (and a handful of extra strength Excedrin). Ghost cups Johnny's neck, leads him down the hall back to their room once he can set down the trashcan without fear of gagging, Johnny with his eyes closed. He trusts Ghost. Doesn't care about potential rumors flying around base in this moment. Everyone knows they're a package deal anyway.

Johnny crawls back into bed as Ghost grabs him a glass of water, makes him drink the whole thing slowly before refilling it and placing two pills in his palm. Sits by Johnny's hip after closing the blackout curtains as the man snuggles back down under the blankets. Begins kneeding Johnny's tense shoulder and neck muscles, Johnny melting into the pillow from the heat and pressure, muscles gradually loosening. Johnny shoves his head into Ghost's hip, has the dual purpose of expressing his affection and gratitude but also puts pressure against his aching forehead.

Eventually, Johnny tugs at Ghost's hoodie, his bleary eyes silently begging Ghost to stay. Ghost kicks off his boots, belt, and jacket, rolls Johnny closer to the wall and pulls him close, protecting Johnny's balled up form. Johnny shoves his head under Ghost's chin, grumbles until Simon huffs a laugh, pulls his balaclava off. Johnny hums in appreciation, drifts into a light doze listening to Simon's breathing, the bigger man running his fingers through Johnny's hair down to his neck in a circuit, blunt nails dragging a pleased hum from his partner. Watches over Johnny as he sleeps safely, trustingly, in his arms.

#tonificreblog

[mandowh0re]

"You guide me in, to safety....and silence"

Maybe it's a mission gone south, maybe they came too close to losing each other... whatever it is, let them have this moment

[mandowh0re]

( ʘ`_´ʘ)(◡‿◡✿)

[mandowh0re]

My hand slipped

Public announcement I am now in cod hell and I feel motivated to draw again so. Sorry expect more Ghost arts lmao

[mandowh0re]

Soap likes to taunt, but he isn't used to getting the same kind of lip back. So the first time Ghost humors him and his snarky comments with an equally snarky quip back, he malfunctions for a minute, confused out of his mind.

Depending on the person, sometimes Soap's teasing has a bit of a flirtatious edge to it. Ghost is big, daunting, strong, and quiet, unless necessary or provoked. So, when him and Ghost started working together, Soap couldn't help himself when it came to walking that fine line between between banter and whatever lay on the other side.

Soap's confusion gives way to fond glances and an affection in his chest that he has to tamp down whenever him and Ghost go back and forth over the comms or over dinner in the mess. He begins to wonder what Ghost looks like under his mask, who he is without it, wanting to put a face to a name and see if it sticks. But Ghost is resistant, Soap deflecting away from his own fondness by asking if he's ugly under there, and feeling his heart beat hard in his chest when Ghost tells him he's not. This only piques his interest further, but he doesn't push it.

So when Ghost and Soap are sharing a drink in Ghost's office over paperwork the night after a successful mission, it catches Soap off guard when Ghost asks him if he really thinks he is ugly under the mask. All John can come up with, stupidly, is:

"What?" as his head snaps up from where he was swirling his glass.

"Do you actually think I'm hiding an ugly mug under here, Johnny?"

"I don't quite follow, sir." Johnny tilts his head to the side, mimicking a confused dog.

"Yes you do. You're smart, just think for a minute." Ghost picks up his tumblr while tossing his papers onto the table; he holds it by the pads of his fingers pressed firm around the rim of the glass.

He's right, Johnny does know what Ghost is talking about. He was hoping if he played dumb, he would drop it. "I haven't really thought about it sir." Johnny feels the heat rise into his face, and he blames it on the scotch.

Ghost levels Johnny with a look through his soft balaclava rucked up to sit on the bridge of his nose. His blonde stubble catching in the light of the desk lamp only serves to accentuate the strength and sharpness of his jaw. Johnny watches the muscles work as Ghost folds his hands together, almost as if in prayer, and props his chin up on his thumbs, large strong fingers sitting vertical atop the center of his lips.

"Don't lie to me Johnny." John feels frozen in his chair.

"I'm not." Every single time John has thought about Ghost's face flashes before his eyes as he spits the lie out onto the table.

"I'll ask you again. Do you think I'm hiding something ugly under here?"

"I'm going to be honest, I don't know how to answer this, sir." Johnny fiddles some more with his tumbler.

"John Mactavish? Not having an answer? Has hell frozen over?"

As Ghost says this, he pushes back from the desk, and walks around to the side Johnny is on, maneuvering himself to stand between the desk and the chair Johnny is in, forcing him to look up at Ghost. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest, his hands unusually barren from him typical skeleton gloves. Johnny can't help but look over Ghost's forearms, scars aside, and how the muscle is woven under the skin alongside the bone, and how the promise of strength thrums through his whole body. It's only natural that Johnny's gaze wanders past the slimness of Ghost's waist down to his thighs, clad in dark blue jeans and empty black harnesses that strain across the circumference of his legs. Johnny thinks about how Ghost could kill him with his thighs alone, squeezing them around either size of his head and pushing, squeezing, straining for that resolute pop. What a wonderful way to die- John is thinking when his train of thought is interrupted.

"My eyes are up here, sergeant." Johnny snaps his head up, the heat on his cheeks spreading to the tips of his ears and down his neck.

"Sorry, L.T." Johnny mumbles.

"Do you want to know what I'm hiding under here, Johnny?" Ghost's voice is low and warm.

"What happens if I say yes?"

"You'll have to say yes to find out, Johnny." John can see in the way his eyes scrunch up at the corners that he is smirking under his mask.

Soap takes a deep breath and leans closer to Ghost, who is bending down to look closer at his face. Their faces are inches apart and Soap holds his gaze, trying to ignore the sound of Ghost swallowing, places his tumbler on the desk, and leans back, putting on a faux air of confidence.

"Then show me what ya got L.T." John settles his hands in his lap to hide the nervous movements.

"Want to do the honors?"

"Are you serious?" The two men's voices have gotten quieter and softer, their bodies feeling the intimacy of the situation before their brains catch up.

"Dead serious."

With shaking hands, Johnny reaches up and hooks his index and middle fingers up underneath the already pushed up mask, his thumbs on the outside, and blinks away his feelings about the heat radiating of Ghost's cheeks. He raises the mask the rest of the way, revealing the rest of his nose, his eyes, his forehead, his cheekbones, and for the first time, Soap gets to see Ghost's smirk to its full effect, and he can hardly breathe.

Ghost's eyes are shockingly warm. His nose slopes straight down his face, a beautiful harsh line. The scars that litter Ghost's face are faded and pearlescent, the pink long gone in exchange for hardened scar tissue. His mind is empty, the only thing he is able to think is beautiful.

Ghost's eyes widen and he almost jerks back but seems to stop himself. He blinks a few times, his mouth parts, his lips full but proportional and pink.

"What?" Ghost says into the space between the two of them.

"What do you mean?"

"You...you just-" John has never heard Ghost speak with anything but confidence before. He seems to gather himself before he speaks again.

"You just called me beautiful, Johnny."

"I said that out loud?" John feels himself burn impossibly hotter under the collar.

"You did. Did you mean it?" Ghost looks impossibly vulnerable, their faces still closer to one another as they lean into one another.

"Of course I meant it, Ghost." John works Ghost's balaclava between his hands out of nervousness.

"Simon."

"Simon?" John feels his lips turn up at the corners out of hope. Ghost didn't deny him.

"Call me Simon when we're like this, Johnny." Simon looks down to the ground, a healthy smattering of pink rising onto his face.

"Okay, Simon."

#tonificreblog