Tf141 - Blog Posts

I wanna get into CoD (Call of Duty) but can't play the games as of rn (no console) someone teach me the lore 🙏🙏 someone yap about CoD to me please it's so cool

Someone feed my developing hyperfixation I need to know MORE

I've played parts of one or two of the games before and know bits and pieces of the story/lore but uh

Someone help 😔

Task Force 141 headcannons- art/paper

Warnings!: Nope, not any today. I'm being possessed by the spirit of creativity right now and I NEED to yap. Shoutout to @h1ccu9 for just being incredibly nice and amazing, and to all of you for your support! It means a lot <3

Johnny has always been an artist, in his mind. It's a fact that permeates his whole being, though it didn't come about how most think it did.

There was no single moment when he decided that it would be what consumed every other free moment he has, no Christmas present that spurred creativity any more than the others.

Slowly, when he was younger. Stupid drawings of cartoons he'd liked, the typical stuff for a kid. Then, more quickly. In Chemistry, he was so bored of hexagons, of compounds bound by singe and double lines and rote memorization.

So, he started with circles. They were ugly, at first, but he picked up shading, and then it spilled outward.

Stupid drawings of his teachers, made to draw a chuckle from classmates, drawn with the 5-pack of pencils that would last the whole year, no matter what.

Even in his adult life, when what fills his sketchbook is chicken-scratch and sketches of buildings (only sometimes people) it's only pencil.

A quiet tribute to the young boy in a big house where money was tight. Colored pencils and good graphite would be wasted on him. He has what he needs in his palm, and he's used to that. Sometimes, black and white works well enough.

Price is somewhat similar, but his skill is technical. Sharp lines composed of quick flicks of a controlled wrist (never mind the slight ache when he repeats the motion too many times) come together to form rough ideas, a tool more for communication more than anything else.

It's not a skill borne from anything too creative, no, it just boils down to the things he needs to know. Maps, structures from top-down and isometric angles. Plans of attack represented by smooth, even arrows like men haven't died following paths he's drawn.

John doesn't like to draw outside of work, not when he remembers how many lives have been mistakenly cut short by how he controls the ballpoint pen.

He's tried, once or twice. It always ends in a deep, stabbing guilt that takes a practiced hand to shake from his shoulders.

Kyle didn't have an affinity for art until his teen years. He'd gone to museums, sure, he knew it took skill, but it had never really piqued his interest in the way it seemed to captivate some people he knows.

He'd been stressed when he picked it up from a friend. Squiggles encased in squiggles on the margins of the page. His English teacher did nothing but mark down his essays for it, but dammit did forcing himself to focus on something else work.

His mother had soon gifted him a set of ink-basked, black liner pens. Middle-of-the-road, in both quality and price, but it was more than enough.

A simple notebook had soon become a haven for him. Dots on dots on dots, lines, big, swooping curves, you name it, it's there.

He holds one rule: No "drawing".

Of course, this feels silly when he tells it to people, but it matters. If he goes into the project with a thought of a desired result, it will just frustrate him more, when it inevitably turns out as less-than-flawless.

So, it's all amorphous. Sometimes it's spiky, sometimes he's almost scarily methodical, adding more and more detail until a whole spread is swallowed up, and his head is mercifully clear.

It's enough to pull him in, but the art always lets him go again, and that's what he needs out of it.

Simon doesn't draw.

That's not to say he doesn't make art, but his is different.

Origami is his trade. It has been for a long time. He'd tear the corners out of pages in school binders, find ways to fold them to make them more interesting.

A book from the local library was what had taken it from a child's passing interest to the work of the rest of his life. More patterns. A way to understand how to make patterns, of his very own.

But, perhaps most importantly, origami was a simple, cheap hobby he could pay for with quarters found on the side of the road. And it was easy to hide

A shoebox beneath his bed was where it resided for about a decade, and then he enlisted.

His first tour, an acquaintance had given him a good set of proper origami paper. He can't remember their name for the life of him, but he remembers them every time he sits at his desk.

Actually, to be fair, he remembers them every time he enters his room at all.

The walls are adorned in paper sculptures, some truly origami, some not. Some composed of thousands of fold and over a hundred hours of work, and some just five-minute warm-up cranes.

It's a soothing reminder that his life is his, now. No matter how bitter the past may be, the tamed roughness of paper on his burned fingertips is there, and his mind gets to shut off as he takes on a project.

He knows how to make cranes by heart, now.

Ugh I need more cod x male oc or reader long fics/ stories/series preferably bottom or power bottom or sub

Just had an idea. Ghost Rider male reader x poly tf141 or ghost rider male reader x tf141/cod they would probably be better off in monster au. Though I'd prefer he's a power bottom/sub. Also long fics please, like series though feel free to use this for other things too. Please tag me if you use it I wanna read it

Edit one: I was thinking he could be a Merc or something and takes down corrupt squads or just corrupt politicians/rich people/etc in his free time. And maybe he's like really tall and stuff and wears a skull mask (like just a skull mask, not like ghost's) and looks like he'd be a top but is a bottom/sub (not required just a preference. Do what you wanna) and has a soft spot for animals and children. And he's the guy they send when crap really hits the fan cuz he's so destructive and angry when he fits. Like a quiet anger. And he's a total lone wolf, afraid he'll burn the wrong person and is really insecure about it. Omg please someone make this I'm dying

Edit two: I'd imagine he looks like this normally (art not mine at all. Probably found on Pinterest and I downloaded it. Credits to true artist if you find it, please tell me who it is lol)

I imagine he's like really quiet and soft when he's human but when he burst into flames (so like if imagine the flames are white or something) he's like a metalhead but still quiet, like roach quiet. And despite this he has all the power bro and he's huge under his clothes like he totally has man boobs and stuff. Also I feel like songs by SWARM match him perfectly or the song I'M A METALHEAD, BITCH by KILL KARL would match him too (great song, very fun to listen too and he Lowkey kinda goofy) but in a secret way, like he looks like he'd listen to classical or nirvana but his ghost rider thing makes him angry inside so he listens to metal. But I also feel like he'd be like in the umbrella academy where they, despite being serious and stuff, would just randomly start dancing to goofy music and he will straight up dance to a song like hey ya! By OutKast while he's cooking or making him some coffee like that'd be cute for the guys to stumble into. Also I feel like anytime he experiences anger or negative emotions he feels like really hot or he's always angry but he controls it unless he needs the destructive forces his anger would bring.

Now I'm being specific but it's okay. Feel free to use it or do whatever

Also I love contradictory characters

Bro I need a frickin fanfic (preferably story) where the male reader or oc is a power bottom biker boy who drives something like a Yamaha r1 or a BMWS1000RR or some other hot modern bike and is a adrenaline junkie and stuff and slowly builds up harem of powerful men for himself and he starts by pulling up next to starks limo at a red light or something and immediately catches his heart or something and because of this he ends up eventually after a while of 'hanging' with stark he meets the rest of the avengers just for the other guys to fall for him too because honestly it'd be a trip. I mean who doesn't want to get on your knees for a biker boy, I definitely would 😂 (guys don't judge, a girls gotta simp)

Edit: and if he has a superpower, it should be like dumb luck. Like the kind that makes birds show up outta nowhere to take a bullet for him or something or no matter what he comes out unscathed. Like to the point powers malfunction when directed at him or something dumb will happen to keep him safe, which is why he's an adrenaline junkie. No one knows his power tho, not even himself. He just thinks it's normal. This also could work in a bnha fic

Edit 2: oh and a foreign accent like idk which but you choose.

Edit 3: I feel like he'd listen to artists like slen, sxmpra, BVDLVD, Freddie dredd, ghostemane, mac Miller, $uicideboy$, bones, d4vd, red leather, witchz, 1nonly, etc just for like the aesthetic or something (guys I listen to these guys but I don't look or act it at all. It's a guilty pleasure lol and I feel badass to some of the songs for the beat alone. This or he'd listen to heavy dubstep, trap, phonk, etc) and I'm thinking big dawgs by hanumankind would fit him perfectly

Actually this can apply to any fandom with hot guys. I'd die for a cod one where he meets them in a country they've got a mission in by pulling up next to them on his bike or he owns a bike shop or he's their neighbor or a DC one cuz Batman's reaction would be funny or jokers if his plans never work when the MC is involved because of his luck

Pic not mine, probably found on Pinterest. Credit to them but this is how I'd think he looked

Ugh I need more fanfics of taskforce 141 x male reader or oc (preferably all of them) stories (not drabbles or scenarios or anything of the sorts despite them being absolutely adorable) but I can't find them so like if you have recommendations please share, doesn't matter the platform. I have watt, ao3, quotev, etc. or just cod men in general

I knew it

I fucking knew it

Price is done already I knew he'd win so expect something later tonight!

If I had brain worms over a specific TF 141 au in mah lil wrinkly brain, who would y'all like me to draw first? I think it's an original au, I haven't seen anything of it before

Please anyone who sees this reblog it cause I'm rlly rlly curious how this'll turn out, thanks!

If I had brain worms over a specific TF 141 au in mah lil wrinkly brain, who would y'all like me to draw first? I think it's an original au, I haven't seen anything of it before

Please anyone who sees this reblog it cause I'm rlly rlly curious how this'll turn out, thanks!

I really wanna rewrite MW3 and make it poly 141 and most importantly make PRICE OFFIMG MAKAROV WHEN HE HAD THE CHANCE LIKE WHAT DO U MEAN HE WAS RIGHT THERE

Coming soon....

Ghost started to noticed the new choice of Soap underwear, that being tongs and panties. Not that he's complaining, he's actually very grateful for whoever influenced his scott. The boxers were great but having full access with no barriers is even better.

But Ghost was curious, who gave soap the idea? It was going to be difficult to find because soap was a social butterfly and made friends with anyone.

"Soap has been wearing a different kind of underwear." Ghost commented with Price one afternoon in the captains office.

"Hmm I have noticed."

"Aren't you surprised?"

Price shook his head, not looking up from his reports "Kyle as been wearing since he was young, says they comfy and cute at the same time."

Why didn't he think of Kyle? Soap and Gaz were attached to the hip, best friends and probably more from the way Soap talks about the brit (not that Ghost mind, he actually likes hearing about gaz) of course the biggest source of influence would be Kyle.

Ghost waited until he knew that Kyle and Johnny were in the Scott's room to pay a visit. It was one of their "bestie nights" so Ghost knew they would be together at this hour. He knocked once, a distinctive knock that warned Soap that it was Ghost. He heard the accented "come in" and entered the room.

And yes his hunch was right. There stood Soap in front of the mirror wearing some black tong that left absolutely nothing covered and Kyle was by his side with a tong too, but his was bright res contrasting with his black skin, looking pensive at Soap.

"Maybe black is too much?"

"Hmm, Ah like it."

Kyle turned towards Ghost "what do you think?"

"Yeah, wanna stay and help us out?"

And well, Ghost is only a man.

yeah poly 141...but I don't see gaz in it???

Cooking From The Heart

WC-1.8K

Warnings: Mentions of minor injury basically fluff

Notes: Reader has tinnitus, GN! Reader, no use of Y/N, established relationship with John Price

Placing the key into the ignition your car roars to life, your hand moves to the console to turn up the music for the radio preparing yourself for a long day. The car is piled to the brim with groceries ready to cook a feast for four hungry men. Pulling out of the parking lot you start to drive from London to the English countryside where the lone military base sits. As you drive you can’t help but reminisce on the past and how fortunate you are to have such an amazing life.

Joining the military at the ripe age of eighteen you met John Price, your rival, a man that always got on your nerves. Despite how good of a soldier he was he constantly had to outshine you whilst being blunt, hard headed, and a little cocky. You rose through the ranks with him, each promotion with him standing by your side getting the same title much to your dismay. As years pass you both set aside your differences becoming friends despite past bickering, soon after that John took your hand into his on a warm summer night in a safe house asking you to be his girlfriend. 

A long loud ring reverberates from your ears as the radio cuts out pulling you out of your memories, out of the past. A memory rushes through your mind reminding you of the bitter memory as to what changed your life for the better or worse.You and the boys were out fighting the cartel in Las Almas when a stun grenade rolled right to your feet. The flash blinded you and the ringing in your ears was deafening, but unlike the others the ringing in your ears never ceased. Due to tinnitus you were honorably discharged from the military cutting your career short. As you sat home alone you felt as though your life, your family was ripped away, it was hard not having the harsh routine of war in your life. The others and John tried their best to support you but nothing seemed to pull you out from the pit. But it all changed when you decided to go back to your old base to make home cooked meals for the men you loved. It made you feel connected again with those who fought by your side, it filled the hole in your heart. Since then you made it a weekly ritual when they were at base to cook for them.

Driving up to the guards of the base you smile pulling out your ID as usual despite how they were once under your command and how you visit weekly. You park your car and pick up a couple bags of groceries to bring into the community kitchen to start making dinner, it takes a couple trips to bring in all the bags due to the sheer amount of food you bought. You look at the analog clock to see it's only noon but it's essential to start early, needing every precious minute to cook or else they’d be eating at midnight. Turning on the radio you start to prep all the ingredients making sure to wash every vegetable there is, you mix the sauces and cut the herbs so the food will taste immaculate. 

Your mind drifts again, smiling softly as you remember the best day of your life. John held your hand softly guiding you through a small park nearby your shared flat until you saw the soft glow of candle lights illuminating the path ahead. Walking together hand in hand along the glowing trail until you reached a clearing where the moon was bright reflecting off the pond in front of you. You admired the scene getting lost in the moment until you looked back at John who was on his knee with a ring asking if you’d be his one and only.

Looking outside of the window you see the sun setting along with the sounds of boots shuffling against the floor, low playful banter echo through the halls and their baritone voices seem to shake the thin walls of the base. The voices become more clear as the men slowly enter the rec room, Soap's iconic accent rings out after a dramatic sniff of the air.

“Smells delicious charaid I oughta get tha’ recipe from you onea these day”, the scot says with an infectious smile. He moves in close attempting to dip his finger into the soup to have a taste. Before he could even attempt it you lightly smack his hand with a wooden spoon shaking your head as you continue to prep dinner, “Nuh uh Mactavish you’re not having a taste of the soup until it's done and all of you get washed up.”

A chuckle comes from Gaz as he grabs Soap by the collar dragging him away from the delectable pot of soup in front of them saying teasingly, “Y’know that our former Captain will never let you have a taste before its done, and they are right we’re pretty gross from training last one to the showers has to organize the armory”. With that the two sergeants sprint out of the rec room jeering and poking fun at each other. 

You chuckle at the childish sight feeling a familiar pair of eyes staring at you from the corner of the room. Without you even looking up to see who it is you say softly, “Hello Simon'', there's a moment of silence before the mans gruff voice responds quietly, “How are you holdin’ up captain?” disguised to know if you were ok mentally, a sign that he cared.

A small smile forms on your lips as you turn to look at the man that many fear, the ghost of 141. His eyes soften slightly as he sees the smile on your lips. “I’ve been good, sometimes it gets lonely back at the flat without you guys running around it but I've been waiting all week to see you guys again”, he nods before leaving the rec room getting the answer he wanted to hear heading to the showers just like his sergeants.

A single pair of boots walk towards you stopping right behind you, without any fear you lean back into the man's chest looking up at him. His beard is perfectly groomed as usual and his beautiful blue eyes look into yours. A small tired smile appears on his face as he leans down to kiss the crown of your head mumbling, “I missed you love”, his strong arms snake their way around your waist pulling you in closer. You turn your head to  the side of his cheek before returning to cooking dinner, enjoying the feeling of your husband holding you close. “I missed you to lovie”. Despite him seeing you every morning and everynight back at home, any time away from you was painful for him.

He stands behind you holding you close for a while enjoying your presence against his tired body. Slowly one of his hands reaches out to grab a piece of food still cooking before you take his hand into yours, stopping his attempt. Squeezing his hand before bringing it up to your lips to kiss softly you say teasingly, “You may be the Captain of this team but that doesn’t make you exempt from the rules big man”, he only laughs and kisses your cheek responding with a cheeky grin “We both know you can’t stay angry at me for long and who is the one that always got in trouble for breaking the rules while we were privates? Oh wait I think it was you”. You can’t help but roll your eyes playfully before playful shoving him off of your body, “I’m sorry love but you're drenched in sweat and smell bad, you need to go head to the showers or else I’m not saving you a plate. Dinner should be ready by the time everyones out.” John chuckles before kissing your cheek softly saying softly in his gruff voice, “Roger that captain I’ll go take a shower you better save me a plate”, he shuffles away leaving you alone in the kitchen yet again. 

The soft music from the radio playing in the background dulls the ringing in your ears and fills the lonely space. Searching through the many bags you brought to the base you finally  find the nice tablecloth, you spread it out and place it over the rickety old dining room table. As the music flows you place each plate, fork, and knife with care despite knowing it’ll be used to destroy the table cloth underneath them. You place the food onto the kitchen table due to the sheer amount of food there is, as you set down some vegetables you hear the jovial conversations of the team coming in ready to eat. 

Gaz lets out a low whistle, “Damn you really cooked your ass off huh”, you wipe your hands off on a towel before saying with a smile, “Only for my boys no one else gets the pleasure of having a taste”. The men start to gather around before you say, “Before everyone eats, no weapons at the table. Other soldiers can worry about war but right now it's dinner time, time for you to be men and not soldiers”

They place the weapons on a table nearby, their knives and pistols sit neatly so they can easily grab them just in case.  Soap looks up at you and says curiously, “We all know tha’ you don’t want knives at tha table but is there a reason as ta why?”. You look up at him and say frankly with a smile, “well I just want you guys to be relaxed for once, letting your worries go enjoying a nice dinner. Along with the time you tried to do a knife trick at the table and almost sliced off your finger” the men around Soap laugh. Ghost slaps Soap’s back playfully, “You were cryin’ like a baby Johnny, screamin’ out for the medic running around like a chicken without a head”.You join in with the laughter feeling the stresses of the week melt off your shoulders.

With a wide smile you announce happily, “Alright guys dig in”, Soap is the first to pick up his plate piling his food up onto the plate with the others right behind him doing exactly the same. John walks up to you with two plates, handing one of them to you, “Thank you love for making all of this food” you look up at him with a smile, “it's nothing John, I love doing this. It's the highlight of my week.” John allows you to go in front of him to get your food. You sit down at the table and John sits next to you, carefree conversations are made between the men and you as they start to eat their food. Their smiles and laughter are as precious as gold to you. This is your family, this is home and there is no greater joy in your life than to be eating dinner with the people you love most.