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tamorisana · 1 month
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Apr 2023
Good boys
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tamorisana · 2 months
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Abadonment is a photography project about abandon places. It was made during the years of 2012-2013.
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tamorisana · 2 months
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gaz.
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tamorisana · 2 months
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Ghostshipping
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tamorisana · 2 months
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Stupid.
This is stupid.
He stands on the cold floors of the train station, cold and late. The smell of petrichor is awfully strong. It just rained and it rained heavily. The usually-typical weather for London.
When was the last time he looked around? Looked at his work?
Ghost still keeps the carefully drawn layouts of the building before him. He knows, to this day remembers every single office space he made on paper, every single rosette in the waiting area, and every single trip he had to choose the best materials out of the best. Front of the main traveling station is a majestic mix of Renaissance and Gothic styles, his favorite, completed with matching landscaping and interior design to which, he has to give credit to whomever Price found for the job. His favorite project was the biggest project after the wars.
The robotic hand takes his ticket, checking, making sure it corresponds with the existing entry. "Good evening." The mechanical voice doesn't sound mechanical at all. Since when? "Please move forward, to your train №29636 "London — Glasgow" is stationed on track 7." The ticket is partially ripped but still valid for him to pass.
He hoped it would fail.
Price is stupid for even suggesting it.
"You should take a vacation." Is said between the huffs, voice is heavy with overnight coffee drive, the unfinished project laying before the bearded man. He still kept those stupid mutton chops. "You'll work yourself to death and I need my best lieut—" The cut-off is sharp. No more titles.
"Architect. I need you in a full working condition, Simon, not living on coffee, cigarettes and hope of maybe getting a new tattoo." Since when did he care so much? A long time. It's very... touching? but he's right.
He's right, like always right. That never changed, from the moment Price found him tied to the wall in that fucking basement, through the trenches and heli travels, to now. Now being in a good, famous even, studio? Office? God knows what they are.
Rejuvenate Structures.
"I have a place. Calm, far away from people, just how you like." he doesn't remember when Price wasn't this warm man who needs help with small details on the showcasing models, man who hated asking for help when he couldn't even close his hand into the fist. Man who sometime ago killed and destroyed in mourning.
War destroyes everything. Buildings, villages and cities, countries, people and their lives. Everything. Including you. Something inside you dies with people you kill or couldn't save. It's different when you didn't see the destroyed housing and rotting bodies, it's as if all of these are far away, with people who you don't know.
They can't bring back people.
But they can repair at least something. Make a better place and keep the guilt away. Keep the stupid figures of dead people he sees in his office during his all-nighters out of these walls.
"Sure. Whatever." You'll never be able to regret a decision so much.
Hope of getting a new tattoo with his initials or stupid soap stuff always dies last. It died once for sure.
Gaz is stupid for supporting it.
Messenger bag lands on the floor, heavy with the textbooks, notebooks and laptop. How does Kyle even manage to survive five classes with such heavy bag? How do you run from campus to campus with that thing?
Kyle always liked the feeling of the heavy gear, made it even more heavy with extra stuff that they almost never needed. "It's grounding." no one says otherwise.
"You look like death sometimes." he was the death at some point. "I think Price is right for sending you for a vacation." He sips his tea out of cup their Captain Boss made during the physical therapy for hand nerve damage.
Simon doesn't remember how they started these tea drinking parties. Stupid Fucking brits and things you do. It just happened. Kyle was exhausted. Simon was on edge and out of coffee. It happened once. Then again and once again. What do they say? Once an accident. Two coincidence. Three is a pattern. Fifty Sixth this year is a tradition.
You'd need five cups of tea to substitute a cup of coffee. A scientifically proven fact.
As long as you call Simon McTavish a science.
"You're just bitter he can't and won't do the same for you since you are in school."
"Oh shut the fuck up, Riley." Not a Riley anymore. Riley is dead. MIA. Would probably be presumed KIA for sure.
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tamorisana · 2 months
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*writes down notes on how to end a character in one of their works* mhm! i didn't think of that. i dp now
i think my lil post clear me a path to either a lobotomy or a witches death but i shall not be scared. I'll die spreading the word about not so recent incidents.
OH MY GOD.
Did you hear the news??? The Badussy war III just started. I'm so scared for Floptropicians. Please keep safe and aware of Da Boyz.
May spirit of Queen Xjiemomoussy protect out country.
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tamorisana · 2 months
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Some early retirement ghoap for Stephanie! Thank you 😮‍💨💜
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tamorisana · 5 months
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Some more of these undercover as mercs scenario for Apollo! Thanks Apollo 💋🔫
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tamorisana · 6 months
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Soapghost fic: Want to Feel (Clean)
Rating: Mature Words: 9,129 Relationship: John “Soap” MacTavish/Simon “Ghost” Riley Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, POV Third Person Limited, Hand Feeding, Food, Bathing/Washing, Hand Jobs, Touch-Starved Simon “Ghost” Riley, the mask stays on, No Canon Face Reveal
Ghost's hands are injured and Soap helps him out. As a friend. 5k of non-sexual intimacy before horniness even enters the picture.
Chapter 3 snippet: "-I’ve done it before-" Soap’s earlier words ring through Ghost’s thoughts as his nose and mouth are suddenly pressed against the bare skin of Soap’s abdomen, feels the texture of coarse body hair against his lips and smells the warm human scent of Johnny. Somehow Ghost only now realises that he probably meant with partners. The thought has the pleasant tingle under his skin turn to heat, the thrum of the last dregs of irrational anxiety twisting into arousal that no doubt stains Ghost’s cheeks red and his neck flushed. Soap’s belly relaxes and becomes utterly pillow soft again, his hand leaves Ghost’s nape as the conditioner lid is clicked open, he must feel Ghost’s stuttering hot breath against his lower abdomen, just above the waistband, but he doesn’t move to pull the shirt back down where it’s now crinkled against the bridge of Ghost’s nose. Soap’s fingers card through his hair again, dig against his temples, pries at any snags and knots he encounters until they give, and Ghost -with his face pressed into soft human flesh and lips intermittently touching skin when Soap presses fingers against the back of his skull- has an image flashing through his mind of Soap’s hands in his hair during a different situation. If he would be as careful then. If he’d guide him as gently. If he’d still give as much pleasure while taking his own, or if he would only make sure Ghost kept his head still and his jaw slack while Soap’s hips would press closer and closer until they touch Ghost’s lips. Fuck.
[Completed on AO3]
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tamorisana · 7 months
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Could I get Siren!Soap and Siren!Roach? With (brutal captain?) Pirate!Ghost? Please?
Barking, jumping on my little toes, yeah I can, especially the brutal part
Ghost felt like he was going insane. He knew that Soap and Roach couldn't be human. He suspected for so long that something was wrong with them but now it was a persistent problem.
The two of them had... bewitched him somehow. Clearly. In their presence, Ghost's thoughts were consumed by them. How beautiful they were. How brave. How cool as well. Also, an ever growing anxiety on what they thought about him.
Away from them, his brain worked normally and he could realize how evil they were.
Right now, he watched them from afar, they talked amongst each other. Well, Soap talked. Roach never spoke, just watched him and listened. They were so pretty together. Pictures of beauty.
Ghost knew they could not be human. Impossible.
His cold heart would not open so easily. However, despite how cruel he could be to others, he had trouble being mean to him. He assumed this had something to do with the curse they had put on him, but the idea of doing what he would do to anyone else, skinning them, having them tied to the mast and whipped, tying them up tight and dangling them over the edge so they drowned, well... it bothered him.
Naively, he told all of this to his friends Price, Alejandro, Rodolfo and Alex. Gaz was nearby but had "gotten distracted". Lately, he had been avoiding him.
"I'm sorry. You're saying that last night you slept with them," "Yes." "and this is a problem... why?" Price asked, confused.
Ghost frowned. "Because they've bewitched you?"
Alex hummed. "I mean... sounds like you need it. Might make you a bit happier."
Ghost threw his hands up. "But they're not human!"
"Yeah, but you're getting laid. So why are you complaining?" Alejandro pointed out. He glanced at Rodolfo who had a funny smile on his face.
They did their stupid telepathic thing and Ghost looked away. "Yes, but it's... different. It's not just... sex. I want to be with them."
Price sighed. "Simon." He gave him a pity smile. "have you considered that maybe, just maybe, you like them? It's not a bad thing to want companionship."
"I do not need companions. You all are not listening. They're evil."
All of them exchanged glances before glancing over him.
Ghost got up and left, whistling to indicate to his crew they also needed to come with. He went straight to his quarters to be alone.
The footsteps that followed him made it clear that wouldn't be happening. A rational person would tell the sea witches to be gone, but he was a weak man. So he quietly undressed, hung up his Captain's hat, and went inside, leaving the door open.
Roach's hands were on his back, tracing the whip scars under his shirt. His soft lips pressed to his back, sending shivers down his spine before his deft little hands unbuttoned Ghost’s shirt.
"Hey, Bug."
Roach grabbed his waist and squeezed gently. He smiled against his back and Ghost hated that he was so weak as to allow this.
Soap started to undo the laces of Ghost's shoes, looking up at him. “Captain…”
“Johnny…”
Soap kissed his thigh and then moved to undoing the laces of his pants.
“Evil.” Was all Ghost managed, only met by their laughter.
“So evil.” Soap agreed while he smiled at him. “Irrefutably. And why exactly am I evil?”
Ghost refused to answer, instead looking away. "Dastardly...."
Soap laughed and Ghost could feel Roach's shoulder shaking. "Uh huh."
Ghost stepped out of his shoes and kicked his pants off. He closed his eyes as he was moved around. Roach tapped his jaw and lifted his mouth to just his mask. They kissed quietly as Roach licked into his mouth, moaning softly.
Soap gently kissed Ghost's stomach. "Bug, can I have him first?"
Roach nodded immediately and kissed Ghost's neck. He bit him gently to make him groan.
Soap kissed Roach to thank him, both of them exchanging a good bit of tongue. Ghost swallowed and watched him. They noticed and quickly gave him more attention. Kissing down his neck and along his chest. Roach grabbed his pecs and squeezed.
Ghost looked away as Soap trailed his fingers further down.
"Simon," Soap said gently and it made Ghost shiver at the use of his real name and not the one he chose for pirating, "you okay?" Roach forced Ghost to look at him, right into his eyes as Soap continued. "If you don't want it, we can leave?"
"Please don't leave." Ghost rasped.
Soap sank down on to him, a perfect fit. "Good. That's what I like to hear. You change your mind and it's over okay?" He twisted his hips and the heat tightened around him. Pleasure rushed through his veins until he almost went deaf from the blood rushing in his ears. They always made him feel like this. Never pressured into anything. Always pleased and... loved. Like that was something he was capable of feeling. Their every touch was magic but especially like this, alone and against his bare and scarred skin. Gentle and sweet and ready to listen to cues that Ghost didn't even understand.
Ghost nodded and felt Roach's lips on his neck. He closed his eyes and groaned softly. "I know. It's diabolical what you do."
Roach laughed and traced the words into his skin. Gentle and careful over his chest. The lines overlapped and didn't make sense but he knew he was speaking to him. He made a questioning hum.
Ghost answered. "Putting me under spells. Giving me this..." He groaned as Soap shifted. Like he read his mind, Soap knew he wanted soft and sweet. He rode him with no amount of haste, enjoying himself and making sure Ghost did too.
"You think I'd need a spell?" Soap ground down on him and he melted in pleasure. "Roach definitely doesn't."
Roach grinned and leaned in, biting his earlobe. His soft humming did something to Ghost's brain. It didn't... take anything away or control him. As much as he wanted to just blame that, it clearly wasn't as simple. Instead, it simply eased his anxieties. Made it easier to give in to the offer.
Because he didn't want sex. Not really. He wanted their affections. Their love.
And they knew this. The evil, tyrannical, dastardly-
Roach kissed him sweetly and Soap sped up. They fought a little over who got to kiss his neck and who kissed his lips, so they kept alternating, keeping him dizzy.
Ghost turned his head and tried to breath. He tightened his grip on both of them and came hard, head spinning. Soap kissed him softly and pulled away.
Roach quickly replaced them, much more excitedly. He kissed him frantically as he tried to get Ghost hard again before quickly riding him. His mouth was soft against his throat, trying to bite down. Teeth far too sharp to be human pierced him.
A voice rose above it all. A simple order that his entire body fought against but ultimately obeyed.
"Relax."
Ghost felt like he was floating. Roach attacked his neck and shoulders to litter him with bites as he bounced as quickly as he could.
Soap gripped Ghost's hair and tugged a little, listening to the guttural noise it got out of him. Ghost yanked him closer and bit his throat hard enough to bleed right as he came again. Vision whiting out and ears ringing.
He woke up moments later, licked clean, saliva still drying on his chest with both of them laying all over him.
"Why do you insist we have to be evil?"
Ghost grunted. Maybe he was wrong. It didn't make much sense for them to not be human. Roach didn't ev-
Lyrical and alluring, Roach spoke. "And it's not like we're going to eat you." Soap laughed, sharp teeth showing.
Ghost thought about it for a moment. He should kick them out. Be sane.
He pulled them closer to sleep.
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tamorisana · 7 months
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thinking abt my wife, my beautiful beautiful wife gaz kyle garrick.
i think of how his hair is a mess because he has no time, no motivation, no means to care for his hair. yes it's short but it doesn't mean that you can just let it be, it needs care too.
i feel like his hair is a.. sensetive topic. his mother used to take care of it and make his hair into different styles all the time, you name it: braids, dreads, cornrows, twists, even messy buns at some point. it made him and his mother close, they talked whilst she brushed the hair out, racked leave in conditioner through the curls. it changed when he grew up and went into policeman academy.
she didn't like his profession. a victim of a police injustice and violence once having a son as a policeman? no, she wouldn't stand for it, she's always terrified of this happening again. it straightened their relationship to the "hi. your sister wants you on her birthday." and "i'll try." in response.
he didn't have the courage to take care of it. he washed it, cut it short and tried to not look at himself in the mirrors. god, he didn't appear on many family occasions because he's straight up embarrassed the state he is in. he did everything to keep himself clean but it damaged his hair greatly, which in turn damaged his self-confidence.
price was the first one to notice, he knows when hair looks damaged, it took a while though. he wasn't an expert about curls. he looked up, searched up about how healthy curls should look like and when he made sure that he knows how this looks like and did not see any improvement in gaz's condition he approached.
it was a pretty short but lased with sadness conversation. they made some changes in their routines. gaz would wash his hair like always and price would come and help him with the conditioner because as gaz put it "I can't do it. Feels wrong with my own hands, so I don't.", is it weird? yeah. does anyone know? no.
they continued like this and you would expect me to say that everything came back to normal but no. the curls heal, gaz's self-confidence is still damaged but slowly they make progress. it's a small thing they do, they usually don't talk, feels wrong, but it's a quick process that bring them down, remind that they are humans too, that they are not just cold-blooded killers.
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tamorisana · 7 months
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Rest for the wicked
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tamorisana · 8 months
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DnD group! Tim's token still needs an update but that's ok.
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tamorisana · 8 months
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Governor Nighthill
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tamorisana · 8 months
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CALL OF DUTY + TUMBLR TAGS *.·:·.☽ kyle "gaz" garrick edition
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tamorisana · 8 months
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got tagged by @fornhaus to create my comfort character in this picrew i have no idea qho to tag so it will be just anyone who wants to do it.
anywho:
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Kyle Gaz Garrick with glasses.
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tamorisana · 9 months
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i bet. most of you never thought of ghostsoap relationship. no no no you did but you put it into boxes of "romantic" or "platonic", "co-workers" or even just "sexual". what if its not. why put yourself into a box? why do this? if you can—
there are no warnings nor triggers that i am aware of but tell me if there are ones i missed. please be respectful. i cant possibly know/remember everything.
"Johnny" he sounds divine. Simon, fucking finally Simon and not Ghost, whispers as they stand in the middle of their near base flat. Its almost midnight but soft in glow, cheap fairy light he found in old Mctavish junk pile illuminated the place and them perfectly after being fixed yet again. It isn't the perfect mix between yellow and white, more sun like with exception of dimness. Soap, no. John feels the big, warm and definitely scarred hands wrap around his middle not-really-waist and squeeze lightly.
Simon was and is always careful with his body knowing how huge he is compared to his partner, it looks comical sometimes, like a child who forgot to grow with their body. There is a weight on his shoulder, quicken breath unusual for huge, frightening the shit out of recruits, man against his neck, a bit grown out stubble tickling. It's peaceful, soft, and... like home. Nothing that Ghost thinks and would've thought of himself but. For the first time in years if not a decade, he can see himself falling into a routine, a comforting, not driven by standards of military life one. It's weird when the day consists of waking up to breakfast (more like sloppy cooking of one) by his Johnny. His ma, Simon was precisely told to call her that after their fifth anniversary wrote out easy recipes to make with Soaps skill and it makes him feel strangely.. cared for. Meeting the McTavish family face to face is off-limits yet. Not when there are children around all around. Not when this family is so welcoming of him despite how visibly broken he is. But... It's not out of the question, it doesn't make him sick to the point of throwing up, and it doesn't trigger anything within him. Uncomfortable but it would happen at some point and it is fine with him. "What's the latest, Si?" Johnny asks throwing his head back, almost purring from contentment. God, he adores his voice so much. There is something about that nickname as well. The way John shortened his. It doesn't sound like a snake hiss when he or Gary says it. It's soft, filled with a loving undertone
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