bones finds moss

https://en.pronouns.page/@Bones_finds_moss Rocks, cats and gender

[catchymemes]

[triptychofvoids]

visibly annoyed sketches-

[konoko]

[85-rend]

this was missing the incredibly important next picture where she got mad at the camera like its their fault she bit the soap

[mossyrocksthings]

Art I made based off saturncoyote's firestar art

[greelin]

“they were flirting with you” and how was i supposed to know such a thing when everyone speaks in codes and puzzles

[greelin]

you are doing some sort of riddler shit to me.

[cod-thoughts]

Day 3 of 31 days of COD

Word count: 1.5k

Relationships: Price/Ghost, Price & Soap, Price & Gaz

Tags: hurt/comfort, love confessions, ghost goes dark.

“I know,” Price said, his voice lower, more measured. “But this feels different.” Soap stepped closer, his gaze softening. “It’s different because it’s him.” That hit Price like a punch. He tensed, but Soap wasn’t done. “You’re not just worried about a soldier, Cap. You’re worried about him. Simon.” Keep reading under the read more or on AO3

Price had always been good at waiting.

As a soldier, patience was a skill you learned quickly or not at all. In the field, rushing in could get you killed. So Price waited. He waited in war zones, in briefing rooms, at borders and checkpoints. He could hold his breath through hours of tension, waiting for the exact right moment to strike. And in all the years he’d known Ghost—Simon—he’d learned to wait with him, too.

The attraction had been there for years, creeping in silently between missions, lingering in shared glances across war tables, in the brush of hands during training. But both men were soldiers first and foremost, and neither had made a move. They danced around it instead, the push and pull of their unspoken connection weaving through every conversation, every mission debrief, every shared smoke on cold nights. Price convinced himself it was enough. That he could live with the quiet understanding, even if neither of them dared to cross that invisible line.

But now, pacing the floor of the command center, Price was struggling. This was different. This was Ghost on a solo mission, out of contact for longer than he should have been.

It wasn’t unusual for Ghost to go dark for a bit—he was one of the best, after all—but this time, it felt different. It had been over a week since his last check-in, and Price couldn’t shake the creeping unease that had been gnawing at him since the radio had gone silent.

He should have checked in by now.

Price's jaw clenched as he looked at the map spread out on the table, the lines and dots indicating where Ghost had last been. His fingers tightened around the edge of the desk, knuckles white. He knew he should be staying calm, should trust Ghost’s instincts, but the anxiety had begun creeping up his spine days ago, and now it was clawing at his chest.

He glanced at the clock. Another hour. Another stretch of time that he couldn’t account for Ghost’s safety.

Gaz and Soap had been watching him closely for days now, sharing worried glances when they thought Price wasn’t looking. But he saw it. He felt their concern, the way Soap tried to lighten the mood with banter, the way Gaz dropped small reassurances, even though neither of them could really shake the same anxiety gnawing at them all.

But this was different for Price. It wasn’t just a team member out of contact. It wasn’t just a soldier missing. It was Simon. And Price wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait.

---

Soap caught Price pacing again. The older man’s steady, calm exterior had finally begun to crack. It was subtle, just in the way his shoulders tensed or how he gripped his radio tighter than necessary. Soap watched from the doorway, exchanging a look with Gaz before stepping into the room.

“Cap…” Soap’s voice was soft, lacking its usual sharpness. “You’ve got to stop torturing yourself like this.”

Price didn’t look up from the map. “I’m not torturing myself, Johnny.”

Soap sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We both know that’s bullshit. You’ve been on edge for days. You need to trust that he’ll be fine.”

Price’s eyes darted to Soap, the sharpness in them flickering, replaced for just a moment by something rawer. “He’s been off comms for two weeks.”

Gaz stepped forward, his tone calm but firm. “He’s Ghost, Price. This is what he does. He’s gone dark before, and he’ll come back like he always does.”

Price didn’t answer right away. He stood there, staring at the map, his fingers tracing over the last known coordinates Ghost had reported. Then he let out a slow breath and straightened.

“I know,” Price said, his voice lower, more measured. “But this feels different.”

Soap stepped closer, his gaze softening. “It’s different because it’s him.”

That hit Price like a punch. He tensed, but Soap wasn’t done.

“You’re not just worried about a soldier, Cap. You’re worried about him. Simon.”

Price's eyes flickered, the name settling between them like a truth they’d all been avoiding.

Gaz, who’d been quieter up to this point, finally stepped forward. “You’ve been dancing around this for years, mate. We’ve all seen it.”

Price stiffened. He didn’t want to admit it, not now, not when Simon was still out there, not when he had no idea if—

“You should see how he looks at you,” Soap whispered, cutting through Price’s internal struggle. “He loves you too.”

Price froze. His heart lurched at the words, something tightening in his chest so sharply that he had to take a breath just to steady himself. He’d always suspected—hoped—that maybe Ghost felt the same, but hearing it said out loud like that, with so much certainty, sent his mind reeling.

“John…” Price’s voice was low, full of warning, but Soap held his gaze.

“You think we’re blind?” Soap pressed gently, his voice full of quiet understanding. “We’ve all seen it for years, Cap. The way you look at him. The way he looks at you.”

Price closed his eyes for a moment, trying to suppress the wave of emotion threatening to swallow him whole. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Not when he’s still out there.”

“It does matter,” Gaz interjected, stepping up beside Soap. “Because you need to do something about it, before it’s too late.”

Price opened his eyes, looking between them. He wanted to argue, to push them away, to say that this wasn’t the time. But the truth of it—the weight of everything he’d been feeling for so long—was too much to deny any longer. Simon was out there, missing, and Price was terrified of what he’d never said. What he might never get the chance to say.

He swallowed hard, pushing down the panic, the fear. “And what if he doesn’t come back?”

Soap’s expression softened even further, his hand coming to rest on Price’s shoulder in a rare show of comfort. “He’ll come back, Cap. He’ll come back for you.”

---

Ghost returned in the dead of night, bloodied but alive.

Price was the first to see him, stepping out of the shadows like he was nothing more than a ghost himself. The relief hit Price like a sledgehammer, the tightness in his chest loosening in a flood of emotion he could barely contain. But as Ghost came closer, limping slightly, face shadowed with exhaustion, all Price could focus on was the overwhelming need to do something.

“Simon,” Price breathed, stepping forward, his voice low, but full of everything he’d been holding in for weeks.

Ghost’s eyes flicked up to meet his, and for the first time in as long as Price could remember, the tension between them snapped. There was no space for pretending anymore, no room for the careful dance they’d been doing for years.

“You didn’t check in,” Price said, his voice trembling slightly, a mix of anger and relief.

Ghost’s brow furrowed, guilt flickering in his gaze. “Ran into trouble. Didn’t want to—”

“Don’t,” Price interrupted, his voice sharp but cracking at the edges. He stepped closer, so close he could feel the heat radiating off Ghost’s body. “Don’t give me excuses. You were gone for three fucking weeks!”

“I’m fine,” Ghost tried, his voice quiet, but Price wasn’t having it.

“I wasn’t,” Price snapped, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Ghost froze, his eyes widening just slightly, caught off guard by the sudden intensity in Price’s tone. And then Price did something neither of them had expected.

He reached out, grabbing Ghost’s vest and pulling him in, closing the gap between them with a desperation that had been simmering for far too long. Ghost barely had time to react before Price’s lips were on his, rough and urgent, the kiss full of everything Price hadn’t said—everything he’d been too afraid to admit for years.

Ghost tensed at first, surprised, but then—slowly—he melted into it, his hands coming up to grasp Price’s shoulders, holding him there as if grounding them both. When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathing heavily, Price’s hands stayed fisted in Ghost’s vest, their foreheads resting together.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Price admitted, his voice hoarse, the vulnerability laid bare between them.

Ghost’s hand slipped up to cup the side of Price’s face, his thumb brushing over the rough stubble. “You didn’t,” he whispered. “You won’t.”

Price closed his eyes, the relief crashing over him like a wave, and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe again.

“I love you, Simon,” Price murmured, the words coming out rough but steady, as if they’d been sitting on the edge of his tongue for years, waiting for the right moment to fall.

Ghost’s fingers tightened slightly, and when Price opened his eyes, he saw the softest, most unguarded look on Simon’s face. The same look he’d been hiding behind for years.

“I love you too,” Ghost whispered, his voice steady, sure, and more open than Price had ever heard it.

And that was all Price needed to hear.

[wolfythewitch]

Happy pride :)

[choco-chip-puppy]

I am unwell!!!!!!!

[visikonn]

UHHH HOBIE DOODLE

[sickening-silence-deactivated20]

need her >.<

[infamousblackcoat]

I always find people who be like "i like Super Sonico, but not for sexual reasons" funny. like sure, that's possible but like there's nothing wrong with finding a character made to be attractive, attractive.

[floradinn]

Smth I’ve thought about ever since I first saw wreck it ralph is that in universe king candy is basically an irl creepypasta. Like he’s a racer that only exists in this one specific sugar rush cabinet, every other version off the game has princess vanellope. Literally no one knows he exists except for ppl who went to this one small arcade in the United States. And if the code for sugar rush has been dumped there is no trace of king candy bc he only exists in this one cabinet. I bet there’s ppl who traveled cross country just to see if king candy actually exists.

And then after the movie king candy disappears from the roster forever and is replaced by vanellope but she’s different than every other vanellope, different outfit different personality different kart different voice lines etc

It’s literally that one arcade cabinet creepypasta discussions and YouTube videos about it in universe must be crazy.

[floradinn]

I bet the internet found out about him bc someone went on the sugar rush subreddit and said “loved sugar rush when I was a kid, king candy was always my favorite racer!” and everyone in the comments was like “WHO??????”

[lemonynesser]

YRS!!!!! I AM NOT LETTING THIS GENIOUS HIDE IN THE TAGS!!!!!!!!!!

[catmask]

chameleon chameleon

... the second part of a personal essay i wrote about being bigender. this time, about being bigender and transitioning. thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed part one!

[imiggytheartist]

LGBT in fighting is fucking dumb and I’m super tired of yall’s stupidity. The fascists who run the government do not care that you are “Not like the other queers”. The fascists do not care that you hates it when bisexual women are taking their straight boyfriends to pride. The fascists do not care that you are a gay person who hates trans people with a passion. The fascists do not care that you are a trans person who hates non-binary people with a passion. The fascists do not care that you are a queer person who bullies 12 year old kids on tik tok who use fox/foxself pronouns and identify as fox gender. Hating each other will not make the homophobes go away. I don’t care how many times you say “But these people in the community make everyone else in the community look bad.” Fascists think we are all the same they will not single any of us out just because some of us have the same opinions as the fascists/Alt right. They are not passing anti trans laws because some trans people are too loud and cringey they are doing it because they hate all trans people. They are not passing anti gay laws because some gay people are too loud and cringey they are doing it because they hate gay people. FASCISTS DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR OPINIONS THEY WILL KILL YOU REGARDLESS! FASCISTS DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR OPINION THEY WILL KILL YOU REGARDLESS! FASCISTS DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR OPINION THEY WILL KILL YOU REGARDLESS! Do you understand me?

[sappho-favourite-pupil]

And most importantly, fascists don't care if you actively side with them. I don't mean to derail too much, but this is the actual truth. Fascists don't care if you are apart of their political party, or if you advocate for their ideas. They don't give a fuck about you, unless they can exploit your approval. Exactly, guaranteed they will use your approval as an excuse, "a gay person agrees with us, it must mean our homophobia is justified" (i've seen it happen in my country countless times).

In a sense, i get why people in our community would make the choice to side with the enemy: it's a defense mechanism, they're under the impression that agreeing with their oppressor will earn them better conditions than the ones they would get if they decided to openly fight against it. I really get it, but it's a fake perception.

Being the "good" and "resonable" gay person, the one fascists pretend to tolerate for a brief period of time, at the end of the day won't be enough to save you: they will kill you regardless. They will kill you regardless, and then, add insult to injury, they will probably strumentalize your death to make themselves look better and our community worse.

[sharksong-ladybug]

Ernst Röhm was a German military officer and a leading member of the Nazi Party who was killed by Hitler himself for being gay. It is a real thing.

[genderqueerdykes]

if you are a trans boy, especially a teenage trans boy, i wanted to say that as a trans man in their 30's, you have my deepest respects and condolences for what you may be going through right now.

it has become socially acceptable and basically online custom to bully teenage trans boys & mascs, call them cringy, or excuse misgendering them for whatever reason. people put trans boys on this pedestal of "must perform masculinity and manhood to cartoonish degrees" even though they're still children.

people make trans boys fight for their manhood before they can even be boys. i am sorry people can be so judgmental and harsh on you. you are not wrong for wanting to be a boy. you are experiencing something wonderful. it's okay if you still want to be a boy even if people have treated you poorly, or tried to make you feel bad for being a boy. there is nothing wrong with being a boy.

it's okay if you never socially transition. it's okay if you're afraid to come out because it's not safe. it's okay if you never change your outward appearance. it's okay if you try very hard to pass but struggle to. it's okay if you wear "women's" clothing and shoes, bras, makeup, etc., it's okay if you're gay and love other men. it's okay if you're scared of hrt. it's okay if you don't want surgery. it's okay if you mainly occupy girl's spaces still. people will find every reason to pick these things apart and ridicule trans boys for, but they are all perfectly fine experiences that do not make you any less of a boy. you are the one who is in control of your transition, presentation, and state of being- you should be able to prioritize your safety over the comfort of random strangers who have no impact over how you live your life.

i've been put through this too, but later in life as i came out when i was an adult. people still try to make me feel bad for identifying as a trans man, for whatever reason they have in their head to justify hatred of a trans person. i've had enough. there will never be an excuse for how people try to excuse the infantilization and abuse that trans men and trans boys face.

take care of yourselves, no matter what age you are, if you are a trans boy, man, or masc you deserve to know that other trans men care about you, especially when people are scrambling to find ways to punch down on you. there are people who suck, but there are also a lot of people who care about you. keep your chin up. you know who you are

[wizardpostsdotorg]

when you’re nonbinary and bisexual

[cephalopod-celabrator]

It is inherently fun and sexy to say statements that swap the traditional genders of pronouns and terms mid-statement, such as: "I'm going to make him my wife" "She's my boyfriend" "Who says a guy can't be a pretty princess?" "That girl's the coolest dude I've ever met" "She's a madman who has to be stopped" "It's not his fault he's a material girl" Gender is a set of watercolors and the prettiest shades come from mixing the paints together.