Okay Pegging Ghost Is Great, But Hear Me Out-

@neil-gaiman

What if right, Aziraphale wanted to try painting but he couldn’t get any models or anything to paint so Crowley said he would as long as it wasn’t obvious that he was a demon so Aziraphale painted him and made the Mona Lisa because in the books it’s said that Crowley has an original sketch of the Mona Lisa which could have been Aziraphale planning out how it was going to look

Inspired by this incredible artwork that my friend made:

They’re not on tumblr but they are on insta: justarandom.dud

go follow them pls

Reblog if you honestly have NEVER sent anon hate.

It pains me that only 14,000 people can honestly reblog this

I used to get annoyed at my mum for not knowing what was in her massive tote bag.

Now I don’t know what’s in my massive tote bag

part 2 lol

so apparently it's really fucking hard to get into the SAS. and ontop of that I've been getting tiktoks of people going around an army base asking why they joined. most responses were to pay off student loans, bills, school, (someone said there's was 6 years of prison or school and *mental note for idea*), the recruiter lied or spoilt them, barracks bunny.

141 (poly?) x notsobaddasssoldier!reader

and now i can't stop thinking of soldier!reader. who really half-assed their way through everything - only doing the job for the money and to pay off student loans + they had nothing better to do.

who somehow ends up being adopted by Price (kinda like Gaz i guess ???) all because reader happened to be in the right place at the right time and saved Price's ass while managing to complete a mission the Task Force were doing.

and it's not that you saved his ass or completed the mission that makes Price go *this is mine* - it's the fact that afterwards all you can say is-

"this shit is so not worth paying off my student loans."

"oh fuck i forgot to cancel my subscription. fuckk- waste of fucking money"

- all the while a building is burning in front of you but yeah just not at all concerned about what had just happened. so price just *grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you up, claiming you as part of his task force now.*

(lol you probably can't do that irl but this is fiction sooo suck my ass.)

and laswell's just like no... they are very much still green john. way too green. no.

but it's too late. he's already introducing you to the task force. singing your praises and you're just like

"man he promised to pay off my student loans and give me food." basically how ur recruiter got ya ass.

enough said. you get the whole off the books speech, saving the world by doing things others wouldn't like. but u couldn't give a rats ass - you should but nah...

and like... you know you're the rookie... you're still green... but some of the shit 141 do you just...

"so you just gonna kidnap the wife AND the child...? right... kid, you wanna watch bluey? here..."

"and you do this often...? crazy."

but you don't exactly protest. how could you with how much you get paid. you kinda just side-eye and look away when it's geta a lil crazy. *bombastic side-eye*

and the other 141 guys - oh my days. become just as enormed as price and want to start really trying to amplify your skills. but every time, they start explaining how to do things - the best way to go about a situation or how to fight a certain way.

you pull this face. like your top lip pulls back, your eyebrows scrunch together, and there's a slight frown on your lips as they speak. like you look confused/disgusted. but you don't even realise cause-

"why're you pulling that face?" 141

"that's... that's just my focusing face..."

"oh..." 141 feels bad

then when they do take you in feild you're shaking your head no. like you haven't been around that long. what the fuck? now you're bout to infiltrate an enemy base!?!?!

"can i just wait in the car?"

"no." price

"i'm gonna vomit."

"aim at the enemy." ghost

people think that because you're suddenly in this badass task force that surely they're just using you for your assets.

they all think you're the 141 barracks bunny. and maybe you should be pissed or annoyed or grossed out. but all you can do is sigh and pause from the burger price got you, and let out a long exhale.

"fuck... maybe i can just do onlyfans or be a pornstar... shit maybe it's not too late..."

"military is bascially sex work - selling my body..."

"not that different from what i'm doing now. body being used, check. body sore in the strangest places, check."

your tone so empty, blank and nonchalant, but there's a serious look in your eyes that when you grab your phone out to maybe do a little research on how you could do that, your phone is snatched from your hand by one of the guys and they walk out the room without a second look back.

with an annoyed huff, you go back to eating your burger. but suddenly, you turn to the person who genuinely thought you were a barracks bunny.

"hey you think if i be a barracks bunny i get out of missions and shit?"

"...that's not how it works..." rando.

"fuck."

and maybe you try...

like you go to price's office and the guys are already in there, chatting about something that you should really pay attention too but you can't be assed. instead you unashamedly start to speak...

"if i suck ya'll dicks can i get out the mission?"

"no. you still have to join." gaz says amused

"even if you-" *que long sigh from price* "even if you suck our dicks."

"that's fucked up. i should've done porn."

and with the most hurt and broken-hearted look on your face, you leave the office, closing the door with a dramatic sigh. the guys just stare at the door in... confusion, amusement, and maybe arousal if ya'll dig that

idk man just gimmie more soldier!reader who just really ain't the fucked, there for money, lowkey hungry and doesn't know what the fuck is happening. kinda a pet or little sibling energy that the 141 love.

bonus*

"wait so they aren't sucking our dicks?" *soap says getting slapped in the back of the head by ghost

a/n: brain is rottinnggg. i should be doing so much other shit but... cod just consumes my brain 24/7

I’m sorry but there is no reason for the Grinches mail box to be this unsanitary.

Surely they’d at least clean it. Imagine if whatever is in that got into the adjoining mailboxes. And one of them is the Mayors girlfriend. Or even just re assign it.

not until you tell me to, sir

priceghost blurb do we want a series based off of simon being a nasty mutt for price? an interesting dynamic with more secret interesting dynamics CW: blood/violence, but nothing explicit (i think)

510 words

simon riley was a dog. not a dog in the way that a shih tzu was a dog, pliant and soft and meant for nothing but lounging, nor in the way a blue heeler was a dog, bred for farms and herding the disobedient and obeying rules. no, he was a dog in the way that a wolf crushed bones between its teeth, blood dripping down its jaw and fragments of bones in its fur. he was a dog in the way that the most vicious outcasts were called mutts and thrown aside by the pliant, the obedient, the snobbish and the classy.

and simon riley had been pushed away. he had been sent to unit after unit, never really finding anyone that could deal with the potent blood lust that oozed from him on missions or the sticky air of death that seemed to cling to him more than his own skin did. he had seen true violence, felt most of it. meat hooks through ribs and dirt in lungs did quite a bit to change a man. he couldn't be blamed for his violence. couldn't be blamed for the decay that trailed behind him or the blacked-out reports that seemed to blossom from his name.

john price didn't blame him. he had also seen true violence. been in the gulag with the hardest of criminals, learned that "special forces" meant "illegal and immoral on a good day" quick, and was okay with that fact. he had long since accepted the blood that would forever stain his skin, no matter how hard he scrubbed. there would always be flesh, rot, bone, blood under his nails.

maybe that's why he didn't shy away from touching simon riley. all those years ago when the man walked into his office after a mission, john didn't try to get the man to leave. the blood on simon's jaw blended with the blood on john's hands, and in the end, they couldn't tell when the carnage they carried became carnage from their own flesh.

from an outsider looking in, it was hard to place the relationship between the two. simon and that scot with the mohawk sure seemed close, but to the keenest eye, they both had something a little darker that they didn't let the other in on. a little too quick to bite, a little too happy to ignite. john and that pretty one with the hat also seemed a little too touchy for just friends, but they were both too sharp in the eye for each other. needed too much control to truly function well.

it wasnt until a video call with shepherd that anyone understood how john was able to get so close to the bloodthirsty jas of simon without getting bitten.

"keep that mutt of yours on a leash, john. he keeps sniffing in places he ought not to."

john scoffed and grabbed simon's jaw. he shook his head a bit, a smirk on his lips. "you don't bite, do you boy?"

"not until you tell me to, sir."

Simon Riley who plays dirty. CW : threesome(?), technically cheating but no angst, pussy slap, mentions of masturbation.

Simon hates it when you touch yourself when he's away.

He knows you can't bring yourself the same pleasure he can. So he makes it a rule. No touching yourself unless he's present and has given you permission.

And it goes well for a while. You touch yourself a few times when you aren't supposed to, causing Simon to punish you. Which he enjoys more than he should.

Until you frustratingly become such a good girl, you refuse to touch yourself when Simon's away.

Simon tries everything to get you to fold, he sends you dirty texts, voice messages of him moaning as he stroked his cock, even videos of him stroking his cock. But nothing made you break.

So, he had to bring Johnny into the mix.

It wasn't unusual for Johnny to come by the apartment when Simon was away. Nor was his usual flirtatious personality.

But finding yourself on the couch underneath the scotsman was definitely unusual.

Your mind was mush, eyes rolling back. Johnny had you folded in half, one knee against your chest, the other leg being held over his shoulder.

"She tight as you thought, Johnny?" The familiar gravel of your boyfriend's voice spoke as he dropped his duffel bag by the door.

Your eyes snapped to Simon, your mouth opening to beg for his forgiveness, but whatever you were going to say dissolved into a whorish moan.

"S'fucking tight, LT. Why'd you have to keep 'er from me f'so long?" Johnny groaned.

"You know the rules, lovie. No touching yourself. Think that you could find a loophole by letting Johnny touch you instead?" Simon asked with a sadistic grin. Reaching between you and Johnny, pinching and rubbing at your clit.

"Hah~No! 'm sorry Si!" you beg, tears in your eyes a mix of guilt and pleasure.

"Shhh, no crying, lovie. Johnny's just trying to make you feel good while I was away. He was just taking care of my pet f'me" Simon chuckled, wiping away a stray tear.

You seem to realise that Simon and Johnny were in this together. That Simon wasn't mad at you.

Johnny leaned down and licked a tear off your cheek, growling low in his chest.

"C'mon mutt, you talked such a big game. Make her come like you told me you would" Simon demanded. Johnny nodded, his brows furrowed.

"come f'me Bonnie, come on. Come on my cock" Johnny moaned, pulling your hips flush against his own as he came deep inside you. Hot ropes coating your insides.

You nodded desperately, mouth dropping open and eyes rolling back as you orgasm. A scream of pleasure being ripped from your throat.

You pant and whine weakly as Johnny pulled out. Your eyes snapping open when you feel a harsh slap on your oversensitive cunt. Simon grinning down at you, fishing his cock from his jeans.

"No where near done yet, lovie"

⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧

just so everyone knows, requests are open! I get stuck for ideas sometimes, so I'd love to hear some of your guys' ideas!

Don't let modernity take the magic out of your life. Allow yourself to see the world as a beautiful place, a place you belong in, one that you were made for.

So I’ve been thinking recently, and there is no way Percy Jackson doesn’t use the gods to just cheat his way in life. Specifically I’m thinking like Percy Jackson sitting in his new car calling Zeus all the swear words under the sun, bailing out last second, and then going to collect the insurance money on his lightning struck car. Like what is the insurance agency gonna do? Claim that he summoned lightning to total a new car and get an insurance payout worth twice its value?

Hermes just gets a box from Percy with 5 Drachmas and two rats and the address of a house and silently turns the Caduceus into laser mode and takes aim.

Annabeth is PISSED when she finds out, like violently upset because WHY DIDN’T SHE THINK OF THIS FIRST!!!!! So she immediately demands Percy cause a small hurricane to take out the architecture firm she started because it’s a shithole with a big insurance policy.

Will has a whole argument with Nico because “Yes I did complain about our car not starting, but when you said you’ll take care of it I expected it to go to the mechanic not INTO A FUCKING SINKHOLE!!!!!”

The whole thing just snowballs until the Big Three kids are making random visits to parents of demigods to make their lives easier by destroying their shit with natural disasters. Eventually the gods get wind of it and almost every kid coming into camp already knows who their parent is because of the “accidents” that happen.

One daughter of Athena is entirely unsurprised because “A crate full of text books dropping from a plane onto our house is pretty heavy handed, huh Mom”

After enough pestering and a stoned promise Percy, Thalia, Grover, Rachel, and Annabeth all set up a Leverage style scam where they cause accidents to happen so corrupt millionaires file a claim and then make a trail to frame them for insurance fraud.

NO WAIT MERLIN IS HIS YOUNGER BROTHER WHO GOT THE JASKIER TWINK GENE AND THE FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT GERALT GENE

Gwaine is Geralt of Rivia’s and Jaskier’s love child. The skills of Geralt and the charisma and dumbassery of Jaskier