soda

she/her

[creamsodalite]

🍋‍🟩 obligatory pinned

helloo i am soda and i write cod fics!! i’m currently only on tumblr and ao3 (creamsodalite)

🫐 9teen

🍨 she/her

🍒 gmt/bst

🍨 askbox is always open for requests!! i do mainly write ghoap but i’m a filthy filthy multishipper, so

🍋 don’t use any of my work for ai chatbots and the like

🍨 ok thatsit feel free to scroll and stay a while :)

[shadow0-1]

do you still remember me?

[ivoryxantho]

Uhhh idk what to put here— Bravo six going...dark?

[creamsodalite]

Ghost has had a long fucking day.

He woke up from a brutal nightmare long before his alarm went off, and spent the rest of the morning in the gym trying to distract himself. Then Price sent him to go help reorganise the armoury, which meant hauling around heavy boxes of weapons and gear for the better part of 4 hours, and then Soap had tracked him down and practically dragged him to the sparring mats under the promise of a ‘blowie actually longer than 5 minutes’ to the winner. He hasn’t eaten all day. He’s had maybe an hour of sleep.

So, needless to say, he’s not at his peak form.

He hits the mat hard enough to knock the air clean out of him, and before he can even think about getting back up, Soap’s weight is already settling over his lap, knees bracketing his hips, one hand pinning his wrist to the mat above his head.

“Oi,” Soap says, grinning down at him, breathless and visibly delighted with himself. “Oi, that’s - that’s a first, that is.”

Ghost bucks. Or he tries to. His hips come up as he twists his weight sideways, his free hand shoving at Soap’s ribs, and it should work, it’s always worked, Ghost’s got 6 inches and 30 pounds on him- except he doesn’t have anything left in him. He can feel his forearms shaking with exertion of it, spreading up into his shoulders, a tremor he can’t push through no matter how hard he grits his teeth and tries.

He shoves again. Soap barely moves.

“…Si?”

He tries once more. Real effort this time, hips snapping up, twisting, trying to get a knee between them and buy himself the inch he needs to flip the position the way he’s flipped it on Soap a hundred times before. His body answers with nothing. A shudder, a burn in his muscles, his wrist trembling uselessly under Soap’s grip. He can’t move Soap at all.

The realization hits him hard, stealing what little air he’d managed to regain from his lungs. He can’t. Not won’t, can’t. There’s no strength left to push with, no reserves to draw on, and Soap is still there, warm and heavy and very much not going anywhere, watching him with barely-concealed glee.

“Interestin’,” Soap murmurs, looking down at him like he’s grown an extra head or something. “Didnae think I’d ever see the day.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Ghost tries and fails to channel his usual deadpan. Instead the words come out breathy and quiet, and Soap’s grin widens in response.

He should say something else. Something to put the usual distance back between them, some flat remark to remind Soap this is still just sparring, still just Tuesday, still just the two of them being idiots on the mat like always.

What comes out instead is a low, mumbled, “…get off.”

It doesn’t have any teeth behind it, they can both tell. Soap’s grin shifts into something sly. “Say please.”

“MacTavish.”

“I mean it. Ye’re at my mercy, Lt.” He leans forward, hovering, just enough that Ghost has to tip his head back to keep looking at him.

Ghost’s free hand is still resting against Soap’s ribs from his last failed shove, and he’s abruptly, painfully aware of it. The heat coming off Soap through his shirt, the rise and fall of his breathing, quick from the fight and not slowing down.

“You’re enjoying this,” Ghost says. “Get off.”

“Mm.” Soap doesn’t move an inch. “Reckon I’ll collect my winnings first.”

[pluviofleur]

do you understand

[99alibis]

hello world

posting art is very scary

anyways

[vx-t]

MW 2019 basically

[creamsodalite]

a selection of songs i think fit lyrically each of the 141 boys (this is entirely self-indulgent)

price

the pretender - foo fighters

bullet with butterfly wings - smashing pumpkins

ship to wreck - florence + the machine

ghost

black vultures - halestorm

new muscles - mary in the junkyard

cast no shadow - oasis

gaz

working for the knife - mitski

could i be - sylvan esso

the riverboat song - ocean colour scene

soap

bab’s uvula who? - green day

remember my name - sam fender

let go - frou frou

[takenhost]

lineart here

i feel so maternal towards him ;]

[witherfide]

my half of an art trade with @/meatgh0st!! GO CHECK SIMON OUT NOOOW!! THEIR HALF IS ON BLUESKY!!!

a younger, newly promoted captain price with a fresh, out of mandatory leave simon. price being so overwhelmed with trying to juggle his new responsibilities while simultaneously trying to keep simon above water that it ends up with them in a heated fistfight with hurtful words spoken.

i had lots of fun working on this piece you have no idea..was going for a half cool half warm piece to show their different emotional states

close-ups under cut !!

[valiants]

Courting

[creamsodalite]

2 years. 2 years of wearing the Lieutenant down, bringing him tea every morning and sparring every evening and finally, finally getting past the rows of solid brick walls he’d built up around himself, just for this moment.

Soap finally has Ghost under him, shirtless. His lips are kiss-swollen, his breath comes hot and heavy, and all Soap can do is stare gormlessly.

Because Ghost has stretch marks.

Silvery lines snaking along the edge of his huge pecs, where the muscle had grown too fast for his skin to keep up.

Moreso than just redirecting all of Soap’s blood flow straight down to his dick, they’re proof. Proof of every growth spurt that put him half a foot above his mates. Proof of years spent hauling kit, weapons, weights, people. Proof of survival. His body couldn’t keep up with what was being demanded of it, and it left a record right here under Soap’s hands.

“…You gonna stare all night, Sergeant? Or was there a plan?” Ghost says dryly, though with his mask pushed above his nose like that Soap can see him smirking. Cocky bastard.

“Can I touch ‘em?”

Ghost’s brow raises.

“The stretch marks.”

“I knew which bit you were on about.” He shrugs one broad shoulder, looking decently bemused. “Go on, then.”

Soap traces one of the faint lines with his thumb, feeling the slight ridge of raised skin give under his fingers. He follows it absentmindedly until it disappears into the hollow of Ghost’s underarm. There’s more than he realised on first glance - thin pale stripes along his lats, and several more curving over the swell of his biceps.

“Johnny,” Ghost snaps eventually, but there’s absolutely no heat in it, never is. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re practically droolin’. Get a move on.”

Soap leans forward, presses his lips to the base of Ghost’s neck, and gets a move on.

[dot41g]

[loverifle]

Five of swords- Pyrrhic victory.

[emp0ria]

It sure is hot out…

[dasphinxone]

Quick reminder that Kyle isn't boring. Not in the slightest. He's tired of everyone's BULLSHIT while struggling to hold himself to a standard of morality that simply doesn't exist in the career of necessary violence he actively chooses to be a part of on a daily basis.

Why? Because he legit thought that being the dark hand of fate would allow the rest of society to live in their light. But he quickly finds out how easy it is to slip into the ugliness of it all. Hell, he was already there from the start of the games.

Because remember, his first conversation with Price is, "Hey, Dad, WHY CAN'T WE DO MORE VIOLENCE TO GET THE RESULTS WE WANT VIA ANY MEANS NECESSARY?!"

That's not someone who is good, or soft or scared to engage with the enemy. That's someone who absolutely believes "The ends justify the means."

So yeah, stop writing Kyle as some paragon of virtue. He's just as deeply flawed as the rest of them. And that makes him awesome, interesting and yeah, just as hot as the rest of the 141.

I despise how the fandom erases him or accuses him of being "boring" because he hides his cracks better than everyone else. The fact that he hides his commitment to violence so well that he comes off as completely normal if you didn't know any better? Yeah, THAT IS THE SCARY PART.

Edited to give credit to gifs.

[leah-clearvvater]

Miss me?