Latest Posts by babybatreads - Page 8

Graves: there's no 'I' in 'team'

Ghost: But there is a 'u' in 'cunt'

Soap & Gaz: *cackle*

Graves:

Graves: Captain stop laughing

Soap comes back to base after having teeth pulled and is not expecting Ghost to pounce the second he gets through the gate.

Ghost: "So where are they? I wanna see."

Soap: "What?"

Ghost: "The teeth. Gimme"

Soap: "I didn't... keep them?"

Ghost, upset: "They didn't let you?"

Soap, growing more confused by the second: "I didn't ask?"

Ghost: "You didn't- Johnny what the fuck?" 😟

Soap: "I was in a lot of pain, Lt., and still am, mind you-"

Ghost: "But... I woulda took 'em if you didn't want them."

Soap: "Ghost, my teeth were far from perfect, there's a reason they had to come out, not exactly great specime-"

Ghost: "THAT'S WHAT MAKES THEM SPECIAL!"

Soap: 😶

Ghost: "ONE OF A KIND!"

Gaz, who walked up in the middle of the conversation: "Think I've still got my baby teeth somewhere, you want 'em?"

Ghost, still distraught: "At least GAZ loves me."

Soap: "... my mouth hurts..."

price with reader who never got much attention as a kid/growing up??

very self indulgent but hear me out. price is a lover man. he takes his time for his partners, gives them what they need, even if he's busy. you on the other hand are simply used to being put aside, people only listening to you half heartedly, not looking at you and getting distracted when you talk, other things were always more important than you and you felt that. you got used to it, it's normal to you.

but when you're with price he's the total opposite. he looks at you intently when you talk (if not hes leaning his head towards you so he hears you better), putting things down when you ask him something - hes attentive. he listens. and its absolutely strange to you, it makes you feel flustered, kinda watched. at some point you ask him why hes looking at you like that, the tv running in the backround. he furrows his eyebrows at you, with a confused chuckle. "what do you mean, love?"

"you're starin' at me." you accuse him, your cheeks getting hot.

"you're talkin' to me. where else would I be looking?" he jokes with a soft chuckle, wondering what the hell you're on about.

"your show's on." you say, gesturing to the tv. he looks at you like youve got three heads.

"I'm listening to you, love."

Dance 💞

@giftober 2024 | Day 13: “Reactions”

Gaz and his adorable nose scrunch (or his stank face)

Simon with a gross breeding kink not because he wants a family (though getting you full and round wld be fun eeeh) but because it's his foolish way of claiming you.

No one can deny you're his if you're so full of his cum you're practically leaking it out all day. And no one can deny his claim if he taints you with his horrible bloodline. No one would want you after knowing his seed has been there — when your insides are practically shaped like his cock.

Idk I think he is so shattered and broken that he would immediately associate cumming in you to forever tainting you and branding you.

ghoap au where soulmates share pain. ghost with chronic pain who takes care of himself enough to stay alive vs soap who’s got spread sheets and slide shows on pain management and pacing for the day he finds his soulmate.

Loser!Simon Riley dating you - you’re his first significant other ever. he’s not great about expressing himself, not wanting to come off as too clingy or needy. he wants to be helpful so he ends up following you around - the first time he came over to your place he almost followed you into the bathroom

Loser!Simon Riley that holds anything you give him - he will not let go of it until you comment on it. you hand him a pan in the kitchen? well, you didn’t say if you wanted it on the stove, in a cupboard, the sink… so he’ll just hold it. grip a little too tight, knuckles almost white as he waits for you to give him instructions. when you look back at him and smile his knees go weak, “Oh, sorry— you can put it on the stove, Simon.”

Loser!Simon Riley that gets most of his dating advice from Johnny. Simon taking his advice literally, not interrupting it any other way. Johnny absentmindedly saying that he should help you into the passenger seat - but he walks off before Simon can ask for clarification. Johnny had meant simply opening the door for you, and Simon does that… he also lifts you up and sits you down, buckling you up before closing the door

Loser!Simon Riley’s brain turning to mush when you touch him. he doesn’t initiate touch for a couple weeks because he doesn’t know what to do - hold your hand? rest an arm around your shoulders? put a hand on the small of your back? the first time he does anything it’s barely noticeable. sitting at a restaurant together, your hand resting on the table as you talk. he’s sweating bullets as he silently puts his hand on the table, his pinky finger resting over yours

Nikolai's appetite disappears over night and Price smells a rat.

cw: mention of body shaming, damaged relationship with food.

Nik loved food.

Not in the way that Johnny did, slamming an entire packet of Maryland cookies and then descending into a sugar coma, or the way that Gaz did, by seeing it as fuel to maintain a powerful and efficient body, so every macro counted. But in the way a wine taster did; there wasn't a city on earth where he couldn't steer John to the very best restaurant, be it tiny back alley taverna or sprawling five star hotel.

He loved sampling different cuisines, sourcing exotic dishes and sharing them with John (who had drawn the fucking line at sea urchin and puffer fish, because while he had never considered a rule about eating shit that could kill you in seconds, he made an ardent one in that moment). John reckoned it was a leftover from his army days when he would have had to survive on rat packs and mess food like the rest of them. He was enjoying it now he could.

So, when Nik suddenly stopped eating, it was bloody noticeable.

He'd still take John out, filling his plate and excitedly watching his face as he tried it, but he wouldn't eat himself. And if he did, it was some poxy salad or plain chicken that looked like it hadn't even glimpsed a spice rack. There were empty tupperware containers stacked in the co-pilot chair of the Black Hawk and Nik remained completely sober during a post-mission arse squeak celebration. (Where they had - in Ghost's words - bum squeaked their way through; Price wasn't sure it was technically an idiom, but he let it pass.)

"You watchin' yer figure, Nik?" Price asked finally, reclining in the wicker chair at the little café they'd stopped in. They were just outside Florence, and the tourists were just beginning to slither groggily into the sun.

"Da," Nik tapped his stomach, "I am, what do you call it, spreading?"

"You look fine t' me. More n' fine."

"I have lost some. But I still have more to do." Nik tugged at his sleeve, a self conscious gesture that John had never seen him do, and it set his teeth on edge.

"Did someone say somethin'?"

Nik swallowed and John wished he'd take those bloody aviators off so his eyes were visible. "Not recently."

"Well, this has been goin' on for months," John said, gesturing at the black coffee that comprised Nik's entire breakfast, while John had polished off the continental version of a Full English. "So out with it. Who said what?"

"I..." Nik cleared his throat, shifting in his chair. "I was not wearing a shirt on a beach in America, visiting Laswell, and a group of young women advised me to go to the gym."

"You can olympic press Ghost."

"Da."

"You can bench press over twice your own bodyweight."

"Mm, da."

"I think you go to the gym plenty."

Nik went silent. He wasn't looking at John, which meant he was embarrassed and not sure how to recover. Whatever this was, whatever had been said, he would have retaliated with his usual bolshy dismissal at the time, but up there in his Heli it would have buzzed around in his head in the quiet until it got its barbs in.

"Fer a smart bloke, you 'n' 'alf thick sometimes."

"That is what I am trying to fi--"

"Not what I meant, Nikolai." John sighed, rubbing a hand over his beard as he considered Nik's slumped shoulders. "You're good-lookin', fit, hotshot pilot with yer gold chain. This is the first time some horrid cow has said somethin' cruel, I bet."

"I might have let myself go."

"You're fifty. It's allowed," John said. "But you haven't. Yer just as built as when we first met."

"I was thirty, John. That is not possible."

"I don't think I stuttered there, but I might be wrong..."

Nik tsked at him and wrapped his arms over his chest. He tried to make it look nonchalant but it was absolutely a barrier. "I am feeling self-conscious. It will pass. I do not wish to talk about it."

"Tough shit, Nik. We're talkin' about it." John scraped his chair loudly around the table and crowded into Nik's space, leaning down with his elbows on his knees to look up into the forlorn expression on his lover's face. "If - and I mean if - I thought your health was at risk, or you were lettin' yourself go, you not think I'd get you runnin' laps with my new crop until you were fit to run missions with my team again?"

"Da, I would expect nothing less."

"Yer part of my task force, Nik. I don't accept anythin' but the best. No exceptions. Tell me I'm wrong."

"I cannot."

"And has my performance between the sheets been any less enthusiastic?"

"Nyet..."

"Right, so, engage that mensa level intelligence of yours and compute the obvious bloody conclusion."

John reached forward, continuing even when Nik tried to recoil, to run his hands beneath his shirt. Nik's belly was warm, the hair on it soft, and John wanted nothing more than to rub his damn face into it.

"I know it's gonna take time to rebuild yer confidence, Nik. Not sure yer tellin' me the whole story but whatever they said, they're wrong. Women like that, they're cruel for sport. You could look like, uh... whathisname, Chris Hemsworth, 'n' they'd still say somethin'. Gives 'em a way to cover up their own insecurity, right?"

There was a small smile of amusement and Nik's arms fell away, letting John run his hands a little higher. "I am impressed you remembered the name of an actor, captain."

"Yeah, I watched a whole film the other night..."

Nik smiled. "A whole film. Impressive."

"Cheers." John lifted his hand to cup Nik's jaw, one hand on his knee. "Still wet my knickers for you, Nik, but tell me what else I can do t' help."

"Nothing, I am... I will be fine."

"Not like you to let some bird get under your skin like that. Sure there's nothin' else?"

Nik cleared his throat, looked to the side and then finally at John's face. "You do not wish to trade me in for a newer model?"

"Jesus fuck... waiter, il conto, per favore."

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the hotel room."

"Why?"

"'M gonna shag your brains out, since they're not functionin' particularly well on the inside. Up. Double time."

Nik reached for his wallet to pay but John had already slapped his credit card on the scanner by the time he looked up. He grabbed Nik's hand and dragged him down the few blocks to their hotel, where he intended to spend the rest of the afternoon making Nik feel like the hottest piece of arse on the planet.

Soap: I fucking hate you

Graves: You and half of the people I've worked with

Soap: I hate you more than any of them. I'll eat holes in all your socks and rip the soles out of your shoes

Graves: ... Eat?

Soap: YOU WILL BE UNCOMFORTABLE EVERY STEP

Graves: EAT??

Reverse Robins AU where Damian actually does not dislike Tim at all. In fact, he admires him for his commitment and determination (even if he’s not a particularly brilliant fighter in the beginning) - besides, if anything, growing up in the League taught him that if you wanted something like that, you should grab it while you have the chance.

Damian walks into the cave after being called there for something important. He has no idea what’s about to go down but Alfred, Bruce, and Duke are all there intervention style with some random kid that damian only vaguely recognises (because he doesn’t really care).

Damian: What in God’s name is this.

Bruce: Well, son… this is Tim. he’s going to be working under your old hero name.

Duke and Alfred exchange a wary glance. Tim gives a little wave because what are you supposed to do when everyone looks like they’re collectively waiting for a bomb to go off??

Damian takes a minute, but eventually realises they’re waiting for a reaction from him. Which still doesn’t really explain why they’re looking at him like that, but people can be strange.

Damian, who hasn’t been to the manor in a while for Reasons: How long has he been training?

Tim, who still doesn’t get what the big deal is and is just pretty eager to impress this guy: Three weeks!

Damian goes quiet again, and Bruce sighs, ready to intervene—

Damian: You should show me what you’ve learned, at some point.

Tim beams. Damian turns around and walks away. Everyone else just has to take a minute because hey, wasn’t it supposed to be more difficult than that? He didn’t want an explanation? No grand argument? Nothing?

Sooner or later, the pair of them start training together. Damian visits more often to keep tabs on tim. (Naturally at some point, Tim has to fucking die, because this is a Reverse Robins AU. But it’s nice while it lasts)

Quick lil’ sketch comic

Ghost needs a medic asap, his blood pressure is dangerously high

(Ghost has no idea what to do about his crush on Soap and its just awkward and embarrassing for everyone...)

Ghost:"whenever I'm mad at somebody I just remember that one day they will cease to exist and suddenly I'm in a better mood."

Price:"I said psych evals are coming up and that was your response?"

fanfiction isn’t enough, I need to chew on him

people say the Brucie Wayne persona isn’t believable but if I caught Bruce Wayne drunkenly lying under a desk in an office he shouldn’t have access to with a ream of secure documents and he replied to my “Mr. Wayne?” with “Mr. Wayne was my father—oh god, my father” and then started sobbing, I would 100% back away and leave him alone. like that shit would work on me every time.

Alejandro: I hate verbs in English

Alejandro: I dance

Alejandro: you dance

Rodolfo: si

Alejandro: he dances.

Alejandro: why?

Soap: huh?

Alejandro, pointing at Phillip: is he dancing more than me?

Rodolfo: I don't think so-

Alejandro: six hundred and forty five people dance, and

Alejandro: he dances.

Soap:

Alejandro: how much is this mother fucker dancing?

Save a horse, ride a Vaquero 😌

Group shot in the market district

face studies with the vaqueros i did some time ago!🤠🤠

...and some white guy ig.

something in common (COD Kinktober 2024)

AleRudy, SoapGhost. Size Queen + Car Sex. Lemon. Canon Era.

Soap groans, open-mouthed into the smooth leather of the car, damp with his spit. It catches on his nose, draws his lips upwards as Ghost pulls him back, onto his cock once more. No chance of catching his breath when the space in his chest is destroyed, the only sound he’s able to make a low whine.

Ale lets out a low whistle across from them and Soap forces his gaze up, tries to focus on the sharp hunger of his grin.

“Not bad, lift him a little, Ghost?”

Behind him, Ghost’s breathing doesn’t change, the roll of his hips unabated as he raises Soap upright, one hand on chest, the other a scorching brand on his hip, layered over the tattoo Soap has there. It’s a perfect match to the span of his fingers, the middle shortened to match the ring and fore; Soap had made the stencil himself after all.

“Ah, see that, Rudy, my love?” Alejandro leans down to murmur in Rudy’s ear, brushing his knuckles beneath the other man’s chin to lift it. “The bulge of Ghost’s cock in Soap’s belly?”

Rudy’s eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide and intent like he’s peeling away skin and muscle to inspect the exact dimensions. They make a good pair, something managing to claw through the haze of Soap‘s thoughts of charcoal and sweeping lines, enough negative space to highlight the intensity of Rudy’s gaze that isn’t softened by the flush over his cheeks. Alejandro tugs Rudy upright, a blurred reflection of the pose Soap has been lifted into, Rudy’s leg nudged into the footwell to broaden his stance and it takes Soap a moment to understand why.

Rudy’s hand is locked around Alejandro’s hold on his hip, Alejandro’s skin indented pale beneath the press of Rudy’s nails. There’s a similar bulge to the one in Soap’s belly, shifting as Alejandro rolls his hips but—

“Not bad,” Ghost murmurs, keeping Soap in place.

Rudy, getting fucked on the biggest cock Soap has ever seen and still very much in charge, catches Soap’s gaze and winks. 

Halloween Costume

Perhaps someday, in another life, they'll finally get the ending they deserve.

"You look beautiful today Johnny, as always."

babbler

The missiles are very eepy

Twitter saw it first because I always forget to share my artworks on tumblr too, sorryyyy 🧍🏽‍♀️

The deadly combo💀🧼

There’s always summer somewhere in the world I guess

ghost is the most talkative person soap knows. no one believes soap when he says that, but it’s true.

soap is usually the one to fill silence around others. it’s not because he just likes the sound of his voice that much, he just likes conversation. likes sharing things, bringing comfort to others in his cool, calm, collectedness.

when it’s just him and ghost, however? it’s often difficult for soap to get a word in edgewise.

and honestly, he loves that. he loves when ghost tells him about his day, about something he learned, about something he saw the other day. any thought that might cross ghost’s mind that he thinks soap might like to know, it’s shared. soap is never more content than when he gets to sit and listen to ghost, because hell, the man can talk, more than anyone else soap has ever encountered.

ghost is talkative. but unfortunately it seems that soap will never be able to convince anyone of that.

He like boob )-:

a lil birthday present for @sunlitlemonade :’) <333

based on this fic,, pls go read all of them actually!!!!!!!