Me With Those Keegan Stans Who Know The Cod Ghosts Game Very Well, Know Every Cod Ghosts Character And

gang how i wish to finish these requests and write bo so bad

so many responsibilities so many requests

i’m YEARNING for Kick x reader fics theres barley any💔💔 i feel like those shaking chiwawawwaeas when i can’t find any that i haven’t read.

Ohh i understand you anon :(

Even tho i posted here like many? if you have something in mind you can send a request to me! and i will gladly write.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

When logan start seeing hesh as another parental figure

Idea: @tokillamockingbird427

Logan never really said it out loud. He never had to.

what if rorke didn't kidnapped logan even after elias death (me literally put a gif when rorke dragged logan)

But in the quiet moments, in the spaces between warzones and exhaustion, it was there—buried in the way he followed just half a step behind Hesh, in the way his eyes flicked toward his brother for silent reassurance, in the way he trusted him without hesitation, without question.

It wasn’t something he ever thought about. Not consciously, anyway. But then, their father was gone. Elias Walker—dead.

And suddenly, there was this gap in Logan’s world, a hollow ache where guidance used to be, where security once stood.

And Hesh—Hesh filled it. Not because he had to, not because anyone asked him to, but because he just did

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Moments That Made Logan Realize

1. The First Time He Caught Hesh Watching Over Him

It was after a mission gone wrong, their bodies sore, exhaustion pressing down on them.

Logan had drifted off, too tired to move, but something made him stir in the middle of the night.

He blinked blearily, adjusting to the dim light of the safe house—only to see Hesh, sitting awake, rifle across his lap, gaze fixed on the door. Standing guard with riley laying in front of him sleepy.

At first, Logan thought it was nothing. Just instinct, just training.

But then he noticed the way Hesh’s fingers curled against his knee, the way his jaw was locked tight like he was forcing himself to stay awake.

Because he needed to make sure Logan was safe.

Logan didn’t say anything. He just turned over, swallowed the lump in his throat, and let himself fall back asleep—because for the first time in a long time, he could.

2. The Night Logan Almost Broke, and Hesh Held Him Together

They didn’t talk about him. About their dad.

But some nights, it was too much.

Logan wasn’t much for words, wasn’t great at explaining the weight pressing against his ribs.

But Hesh noticed. He always noticed.

One night, when Logan thought he was alone, he let himself feel it—that overwhelming, suffocating loss.

He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, chest rising and falling too fast, too uneven.

And then—Hesh was just there. No questions, no prying. Just a firm, steady hand on his shoulder.

A quiet, grounding voice: “Hey. I got you.”

Logan let out a shaky breath, nodding once. He didn’t need to say anything.

Because Hesh already understood.

3. When Hesh Took Responsibility Like It Was His Birthright

Hesh started doing things he never used to—small things, barely noticeable unless you were really paying attention.

He made sure Logan ate but not telling him in a pleading way like a mom.

He double-checked Logan’s gear before missions, subtly making adjustments, tightening straps, checking ammo.

And when Logan got hurt? When blood stained his uniform and pain clouded his vision?

Hesh’s voice was the one calling out orders, pushing through the chaos.

“Stay with me, Lo. You’re gonna be fine.”

And somehow, somehow, Logan believed him.

4. Hesh – More Than Just a Brother

Hesh had always looked out for him, but after Elias was gone, something changed.

He didn’t just see himself as Logan’s brother—he became something more. A protector. A leader.

Late one night, when Logan couldn’t sleep, he found Hesh outside, sitting against one of the Humvees, staring at the stars.

Logan sat next to him without a word.

After a long silence, Hesh finally muttered, “I don’t know if I’m doing this right.”

Logan looked at him. “What?”

“Taking care of you.” Hesh exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Dad knew what to say. What to do. I just— I don’t know.”

Logan swallowed, something heavy settling in his chest. “You don’t have to be him.”

Hesh let out a small, humorless chuckle. “Feels like I do.”

Logan nudged him. “You’re already doing more than enough.”

Hesh didn’t say anything. But after a moment, he reached over and ruffled Logan’s hair, just like when they were kids.

but logan didn't like it giving him a look "dude what the fuck?" asking him with hesh just chuckling with his dripping voice, Walking back to the room leaving logan outside wondering.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Childhood moments

1. The Time Hesh Punched a Kid for Messing with Logan

Logan was maybe six, Hesh eight. They were at the park, kicking a ball around when some older kid decided to shove Logan to the ground (obv there is no reason cuz i wanna make logan the main character and everyone wanna mess with him lol)

“Stay down, loser.” the kid said.

Logan, small but stubborn, pushed himself up, dirt on his hands, eyes flicking to Hesh before he could react.

And Hesh? Hesh was already moving.

One second, the kid was smirking. The next? He was on the ground.

Hesh stood over him, fists clenched. "Touch my brother again, and I’ll bury ya in the sandbox."

Logan’s eyes went wide. "DAD SAID WE CAN’T FIGHT."

Hesh glanced at him, still fuming. "Yeah, well, Dad’s not here right now."

Of course, Elias did find out.

That night, they sat on the couch, waiting for their discussion with elias since the parents of the kid complained to him about what happened.

Elias apologized to them and comfort them that will never happen again.

Elias sighed, rubbing his face. “Hesh, you can’t just go around punching people.”

"But he shoved Logan!"

Elias looked at Logan, then back at Hesh. “…Did you win?”

Hesh grinned. "Obviously."

Elias sighed again, shaking his head. “Just—next time, use your words, son.”

"What if words don’t work?" oh my god him and his unstoppable questions.

Elias gave him a look. "Then throw the second punch harder than the first."

2. The Night Hesh Snuck into Logan’s Room After a Bad Storm

Logan always pretended storms didn’t bother him. Even when the thunder shook the house, even when lightning flashed against the walls.

He wanted to be tough, like Hesh.

But one night, when a particularly bad storm rolled in, Logan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying not to flinch at every rumble.

Then—his door creaked open.

Hesh, dragging his blanket behind him, plopped onto the floor next to Logan’s bed without a word.

Logan frowned. “What are you doing?”

Hesh shrugged. “Storm’s loud.”

Logan didn’t call him out on it, just rolled over so he wasn’t facing the window.

A few minutes passed before Hesh nudged him. “You awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Think Dad’s scared of storms?”

Logan snorted. “No.”

“Yeah. Me neither.”

The next time the thunder cracked, Logan didn’t flinch. Because Hesh was already there.

3. The Fishing Trip That Turned into a Disaster

Elias had this idea to take them fishing. “It’ll be fun,” he said. “A good experience,” he promised.

Spoiler: it was a mess.

Hesh, overconfident as ever, insisted he could bait his own hook—then immediately got tangled in the line.

Logan, trying to help, somehow managed to knock their entire tackle box into the water.

Elias, holding onto the last shred of his patience, just rubbed his temples. “I swear to God, you two are worse than a pair of puppies.”

They did eventually catch a fish—but Hesh freaked out when it started flopping in the boat.

"DAD IT'S ALIVE?!"

Logan, not helpful at all: "GRAB IT!"

Hesh: "WITH WHAT HANDS, LOGAN?!"

Elias, laughing so hard he could barely breathe, finally grabbed it himself and tossed it back. "Remind me never to take you two hunting."

4. The Time Logan Got Lost, and Hesh Found Him First

They were at a fair when Logan wandered off. One second, Hesh was buying a drink, the next—Logan was just gone.

Panic set in fast. Hesh, barely ten years old, felt something cold and tight squeeze his chest.

Elias was already asking around, staying calm, focused. But Hesh? He ran.

He pushed past crowds, calling Logan’s name, heart hammering in his chest.

And then—

He found him. Sitting on a bench, small hands gripping the edge, looking so lost.

Hesh sprinted up, skidding to a stop. “Logan!”

Logan looked up, relief flooding his face right before Hesh pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Don’t do that again, dumbass.” His voice was shaking. “I thought—” He didn’t finish.

Logan just nodded, burying his face in Hesh’s shoulder. (bro tf you shouldnt have gone😭)

When Elias finally caught up, he let out a breath. “You okay?”

Hesh nodded. “Yeah. I got him.”

The Moment It All Came Crashing Down

One night, it slipped out. Not in a moment of sentimentality, not in some grand confession—just a quiet realization spoken into the dark.

They were sitting side by side after a long, brutal mission. Hesh had a fresh cut on his temple, Logan was nursing a bruised rib, and neither of them had spoken in a while.

But then Logan, exhausted, let the words slip.

“You’re all I got.”

It was quiet, barely above a whisper, but Hesh heard it.

He turned to Logan, brow furrowing, but Logan didn’t look at him. Just kept his eyes on the horizon, like he hadn’t just admitted something that hurt just to say.

Hesh exhaled, rubbing his face before resting a hand on Logan’s shoulder.

“Nah,” he murmured, voice softer than usual. “We got each other.”

And somehow, that made it feel a little less heavy.

oh yeah call of duty ghosts, kinda mess with this game (let it consume my mind and inner thoughts to the point it has slightly destroyed my mental health)

thinking about zombie apocalypse with cod ghosts character (so unserious)

characters: logan walker, hesh walker, kick, keegan russ

X teammate reader

logan walker:

oppp- wrong picture

Logan walker:

The quietest dude ever—Logan wouldn’t say a word even if the world was ending (which it technically was).

You’d been fighting for your life, running for what felt like hours, until you finally found shelter in an abandoned store.

Exhausted, you crouched behind the desk, catching your breath, when you noticed something—or someone—lying a few feet away.

Instinct kicked in; you gripped your weapon, nerves on edge, and prepared yourself for the worst.

Creeping closer, your heart pounding, you got a better look and froze.

It was Logan.

He was asleep. Just lying there, arms crossed like it was nap time in kindergarten.

“Logan!,” you whispered, trying to wake him up.

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

You sighed, lowering your weapon.

“Logan, you’re serious right now?” Still no response.

Apparently, Logan could sleep through the literal apocalypse without a care in the world.

As you kept muttering about how lucky you were to find someone alive, he finally opened his eyes.

Logan stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before letting out a quiet sigh and sitting up.

He didn’t say a word—of course—but glanced at his watch, completely ignoring your rant about surviving this nightmare.

You kept yapping about the horrors you’d faced, how relieved you were to see someone from the team, and how you thought you’d never make it.

Meanwhile, Logan was completely in his own world, barely listening.

His mind was already planning the next move, calculating every possibility, mapping out the escape like this was just another day.

At one point, he gave you the slightest nod, as if to acknowledge you were there, but his focus stayed locked on his plan.

You were half-annoyed, half-relieved—this was so typical Logan. Even in the apocalypse, he stayed the same: quiet, efficient, and impossible to read.

"by the way logan there is no food... i tried to go to that supermarket but it was...well crowded" you said feeling your stomach aching

You were mid-sentence, going on about how tough it had been out there, when Logan stood up abruptly and walked right past you.

He didn’t say a word (of course he didn’t), just moved with quiet determination, heading straight toward the back of the store.

For some reason, you weren’t scared—this was Logan, after all. The guy had been sleeping here like it was a Sunday afternoon nap. If anyone could survive this mess, it was him.

Minutes passed, and you heard him coming back, moving a little faster this time. Before you could ask, he grabbed you by the shoulder, his grip firm.

“What... what?” you stammered, caught off guard by his sudden urgency.

Logan took a steadying breath, his face calm but serious. Then, for the first time since you’d seen him, he spoke.

“Run.”

The single word made your stomach drop. You barely had time to process it before you looked behind him—and saw the wall practically bursting open with a swarm of zombies.

They were coming straight for you, groaning and stumbling over one another, and your survival instincts kicked in.

Without another thought, you both bolted, running as fast as your legs could carry you, with Logan leading the way like he had everything already figured out.

"DID YOU AT LEAST GET FOOD?"

Logan was a zombie magnet. No matter where you went, it was like they could sense him from miles away.

You’d be walking through a crowd, trying to stay low, and then—bam—the zombies would all suddenly turn and head straight for him, ignoring you completely.

You’d stand there, frozen in shock, as they chased him down like he was the main course.

It was honestly ridiculous. “What the hell, Logan?” you’d wonder, but you knew better than to ask. He had that effect, and it was like he was used to it.

But sometimes, when the noise and chaos calmed down, there’d be a brief moment where you could see the cracks in his otherwise stoic exterior.

As you sat eating, Logan would fall into rare moments of quiet, and it was then you could tell he was thinking about the people who weren’t there anymore.

You noticed the flicker in his eyes—like he missed Hesh and Elias, wishing they were with him, especially when things got too heavy to bear alone.

But there was no time for sentiment. Logan wasn’t the type to soften up, not when the world was falling apart around him.

Then, while you were both eating in silence, you heard Logan pause mid-bite, his expression distant.

“Leave some for—” He trailed off, and you looked at him, confused.

“For who?” you asked, your mouth still full.

His eyes dropped to the ground for a moment, a rare flicker of something sad in his gaze.

“...Riley,” he muttered quietly, almost as if he were talking to himself.

He didn’t say more, just continued eating, the weight of his words lingering in the air.

Logan’s weapon of choice? A crowbar.

It wasn’t just any crowbar, though—he was obsessed with it.

You tried offering him a gun once, hoping he’d at least consider something with a bit more firepower, but he just shook his head.

Instead, he held up the crowbar like it was Excalibur, his eyes dead serious "seriously logan take this you may need it!"

“Don’t need a gun,” he muttered, his grip tightening. “Too noisy. I don’t want to attract attention, and ammo’s a waste.”

"BRO JUST SAY YOU RAN OUT OF AMMO" You didn’t argue. He was a master with that crowbar—silent, efficient, and downright unstoppable when it came to killing zombies.

It was like the weapon and Logan had become one. With one swing, he could clear a path, and before you knew it, the zombies were on the ground, barely a sound made.

Watching him work, you almost forgot how dangerous it all was—until you heard the sickening crack of bone as another zombie dropped.

Hesh walker:

The forest was dense and eerie, the kind of place that felt like it was hiding secrets behind every tree.

You had your path memorized—there was a safehouse somewhere through this mess, but the atmosphere here was off. Something felt... wrong.

You kept walking, eyes darting around, the rustling of leaves making you tense.

And then, it happened.

Without a word, you felt it—a shift in the air, something moving behind the thick trees.

You froze, taking a deep breath, gripping your weapon tightly. Every muscle in your body was on alert, ready for anything.

You stepped forward slowly, your eyes sharp, scanning the shadows, when suddenly—

Something pounced from behind.

A startled scream escaped your lips as you whipped around, weapon raised.

But then, you saw it—Riley.

His excited, goofy grin was unmistakable as he practically licked your face, like you hadn't just been in a fight for your life.

"Riley?" you said, voice full of surprise and relief, your heart finally slowing.

He stopped licking you, and you could practically feel him grinning even more.

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, holding him back. “What the hell, man? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Riley just wagged his tail, clearly too happy to care.

Just as you were catching your breath from Riley’s surprise ambush, you heard a voice cut through the trees.

"Riley!"

You turned just in time to see Hesh emerge, his expression a mix of relief and caution.

But then, as soon as his eyes landed on you, his steps faltered. He froze, a look of shock spreading across his face.

"Y/N?"

A wave of relief washed over you, and you stood up, barely able to contain your smile. “Hesh!”

You both exchanged quick greetings, the tension from the forest momentarily easing. Hesh’s lips curled into a small but genuine smile, his eyes scanning you for any signs of injury.

“I’m just glad you’re alive,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. He looked you up and down, his gaze lingering for a moment, checking for any wounds.

“Not bitten?” he asked, You raised an eyebrow at the question, but before you could answer, he added, “I’m not asking because I’m worried you’re going to attack me. I’m asking because I’m scared for you.” yes he was straight with this

You paused, realizing how much that statement meant. He wasn’t worried about surviving the apocalypse with you, he was worried about you surviving it at all.

It hit you then—Hesh had always been protective, but now, with the world falling apart, the stakes felt higher.

You nodded, reassuring him, and then it dawned on both of you.

“Wait,” you said, glancing between him and Riley, “we’re heading to the same place, huh?”

Hesh nodded, the relief on his face mixing with the realization that, despite everything, you’d somehow ended up back together.

Every morning, Hesh had the same routine: a motivational speech to get everyone’s spirits up.

"WE SURVIVED YESTERDAY! WE’LL SURVIVE TODAY!" he’d shout, his voice booming, and for the first time, it’s inspiring.

After the hundredth time, though, it just got… annoying.

At least today, he brought food—sort of.

He insisted on being the one to cook, as usual, though you didn’t argue. It gave you time to relax.

As you two ate, Hesh just stood there, waiting, not touching his own plate.

"Man, I wonder if Dad knew this would happen—he trained us, me and Logan, to survive. Guess it paid off, huh?"

You nodded, chewing, before taking another bite—but then, just as you were about to finish, Hesh’s face dropped.

He peered down at the food product, his expression turning from casual to horrified.

"Okay, I fucked up," he muttered, eyeing the beans. “These are expired."

You froze, mid-bite, mouth wide open in shock. "You’re kidding, right?"

Just then, hesh noticed Riley still happily munching away at the beans.

“RILEY! STOP EATING THAT!” he shouted, leaping to his feet.

Hesh scrambled toward Riley, panic in his eyes. "No, no, no! Riley, stop!"

You were left there, holding the spoon, still shocked by the mess Hesh has just made

like hell he would send riley to attack the zombie or protect him

i see him use stick shapren it so it can use as a weapon cuz elias training didnt got waste

Keegan p russ:

You were fighting for your life—sweat dripping down your face, every move a calculated risk. The world was chaos, but you were doing your best to keep it quiet, avoiding the sound of gunshots to keep the zombies off your trail.

But that plan was quickly falling apart when a zombie dog lunged at you, its snarls sending a cold shiver down your spine.

You gritted your teeth, refusing to scream, but the dog wasn’t letting go.

Desperate, you shoved your hands into its face, trying to pry it off you, but it only snapped back harder.

You were about to lose it when—BAM!

The shot rang out, echoing through the silence of the forest, and the dog’s head exploded, its body going limp in an instant.

You didn’t need to look to know who it was.

The familiar cold efficiency of Keegan.

The dog’s body hit the ground "Rest in pieces," he said simply, deadpan, eyes still on the now-lifeless head blown zombie dog.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, exhausted, and dropped onto the ground, trying to catch your breath.

Keegan stood there for a moment, his face unreadable, before offering a hand to help you up.

"Been through hell, kid," he muttered, pulling you to your feet.

His tone was dry, but there was a quiet understanding in it—a recognition of how close you had come to not making it out of that one.

Keegan turned around, walking a few steps ahead, expecting you to follow his lead as usual.

“So, what’s up?” he asked, the words casual but his tone sharp, as if expecting more than the usual small talk.

You shrugged, still a little shaken, trying to shake off the adrenaline. “Uh, you know, just zombie apocalypse…” You trailed off, not really having anything new to say.

Keegan stopped in his tracks, turning around to face you, his eyebrow cocked.

“Yeah, I gathered that, idiot," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Why don’t you just tell me something I don’t know?” this is from snapcube re2 lol

You thought the days of endless training were over, but Keegan had other plans.

He had this uncanny ability to sneak up behind you, completely silent, and scare the living daylights out of you.

"Keeps you sharp," he'd always say with that smug grin of his after watching you jump out of your skin.

Honestly, you hated it, but you couldn't argue that it worked.

Still, you didn’t exactly appreciate the fact that you almost died because of a zombie dog, and Keegan didn’t either.

The moment it was over, you could feel his piercing gaze on you, making sure you were in one piece.

"Next time, don’t let a dog get the drop on you," he muttered, his voice like a low growl.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but feel a small sense of gratitude. Keegan may have been a pain in the ass, but he knew how to keep you alive.

Keegan has this bizarre talent—he can somehow sense how many zombies are nearby, just by sniffing the air.

No one knows how he does it, and honestly, you’re too scared to ask. The way he just casually inhales and then rattles off a number is honestly a little unsettling.

On supply runs, though, he’s a stealth master. You’ll lose track of him for hours, and when he reappears, he’s holding something ridiculous like gourmet chocolate.

"Found it in a mansion," he’ll say, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world.

You just shake your head—Keegan had a way of disappearing into thin air and showing up with treasures from places you never would’ve dared to enter.

He’s a knife guy, too—silent, deadly, and incredibly skilled.

You’ve seen him take down a zombie in one swift motion, barely making a sound.

If you ever need to sneak through a hoard or take something down quietly, Keegan’s the one you turn to.

The camp was in chaos—zombies were breaking through the perimeter, and you were freaking out, trying to gather everything together.

"Keegan, come on! Let’s go!!" you shouted, grabbing your gear.

But there he was, sitting calmly on the ground, sharpening his knife with a whetstone like it was just another day.

He didn’t even look up at you. “They’re slow. We’ll be fine,” he said, his voice as calm as ever.

"KEEGAN!!" you yelled, but it didn’t faze him.

The guy had no sense of urgency, and somehow, it worked. You couldn’t even remember the last time you saw him stressed.

liner kind using "should have stayed dead" when he shot a zombie.

kick:

You were fighting for your life when, out of nowhere, Kick made his grand entrance with a flamethrower.

Yes, a flamethrower—like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Totally practical!” he shouted, firing the flames at the zombies with reckless abandon.

But of course, things went sideways, and before you knew it, half your shelter was on fire.

"WHAT IN THE ACTUAL—?? KICK, YOU BURNED EVERYTHING!" you yelled, frantically trying to douse the flames as your safe space turned into a disaster.

After the chaos settled and you were finally safe, Kick walked over, completely unfazed by the damage he caused.

“You’re alive now, right?” he asked, checking to make sure you were okay.

You nodded, still catching your breath.

“Then shut the fuck up,” he said, offering you a look that was somewhere between a smirk and indifference.

Kick was always the first to come up with outlandish ideas, and one of his most "brilliant" suggestions was duct-taping machetes to shopping carts.

“Zombies won’t stand a chance!” he’d declare with an enthusiastic grin, already getting to work on the "weaponized" carts.

At first, it seemed like a fun, creative idea—until the zombies got too close.

The machetes were heavy, unwieldy, and the shopping carts? They just weren’t built for battle.

Spoiler: The zombies did stand a chance.

It all turned into chaos, the carts getting stuck, the machetes swinging wildly and missing their mark, and you both barely managing to stay alive.

Kick was grinning through it all, still having fun in the madness. But the truth was, this kind of reckless thinking was bound to get you both killed if you kept it up.

The fun was wearing thin, and you were starting to realize just how dangerous his chaotic ideas really were. "ok fuck me let's get serious" he said panting "thank you?"

Kick's chaotic creativity knew no bounds. One day, he decided to strap dynamite to a remote-controlled car and drive it straight into a horde of zombies.

The explosion was massive, taking out the zombies... but also knocking over half the shelter in the process.

As the dust settled, Kick turned to you with a grin. "Scale out of 10 if Merrick would kill me here when he sees what I’m doing?"

You just sighed, rubbing your temples. This was getting ridiculous.

And then there was his "Machete Madness" phase, where he duct-taped three machetes together and proudly called it the "Tri-Chop 3000."

It was supposed to be the ultimate zombie-killing weapon.

Except after one swing, the whole thing snapped in half.

"Well, shit," he muttered.

You couldn’t help but think, This kind of chaos is going to get us killed one day bur weirdly you are surviving because of him

At night, Kick would sit around the fire, telling spooky theories in his head

They were so terrifying that you couldn’t help but flinch at certain parts, and Kick loved it. He’d practically beam with amusement at your reactions.

he would say something like "what was the last they think before they turn to a zombie?" or "we killed humans by the way..."

but you were pretty sure he was just having too much fun watching you squirm.

One time, Kick suggested using fireworks to distract the zombies.

You shot him a look and replied, “Or we could not die.”

He just shrugged with a grin, muttering, “Alright, alright, never again.”

But the most puzzling thing about Kick? He always had a spare weapon.

Broke your bat? He had an extra one.

Out of bullets? He’d casually hand you a mag.

No one knew how or where he kept it all, but somehow, Kick always had exactly what you needed when things went south.

When the car ran out of gas, Kick’s first solution was to suggest pushing it to the next town.

"I can totally do it," he insisted with confidence, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

(Spoiler: He couldn’t.) The attempt ended in a lot of frustration, sweat, and a very not moving car.

Then there was the time he found a stash of protein powder and decided to make “zombie apocalypse shakes.”

They were awful. Honestly, you couldn’t tell if they were meant to be a joke or if Kick was serious, but you couldn’t bring yourself to drink another one after the first try.

He also bet he could wrestle a zombie to the ground without killing it.

And somehow, he won. But now, no one was eager to sit near him, especially after hearing the grisly details of his "win."

On the plus side, he was always entertaining, especially when it came to killing zombies.

Every time he took one down, he’d say, “That’s one more for the highlight reel kid!” as if he was on some sort of twisted reality show.

TW: Sucide photo!!

Hey guys reblogging for yalls safety!! please be aware of them and be safe!!

also see the additional of it in @stargazing-sapphire2

Important PSA

I normally don't do call-out posts, but after everything that went and what I've been told/shown, I can't stay silent about this, especially after it has badly effected close friends of mine.

TRIGGER WARNING UNDER THE CUT: Threats of suicide, self-harm, doxxing and harassment. Please proceed with caution when engaging with this post.

As of this month, this individual has been the subject of drama and unprompted harassment in the Ghosts fandom as well as in both servers (one of which I'm the moderator), as well as on here due to them harassing and acting aggressive on here to those who attempted to reach out to them.

*Urls blacked out for privacy reasons*

They've attempted to get back into the server despite leaving, and if you're here in there, do not understand any circumstance send them a link. This is for safety reasons

•Them sending anonymous hate in response to being blocked

Huge trigger warning for the images down below, as they contain a photo of their self-harm they themselves posted in the server as well as doxxing someone they've had issues with

*Openly bragging about someone who deactivated due to the constant harassment and doxxing*

I have been made aware of his behavior in the other server, where he harassed and insulted a minor over their art, as well as breaking the rules over SFW/NSFW content

Him also openly admitting to being transphobic on his alt account.

Due to the image limit on posts, I will be reblogging additional screenshots through there, and possibly a lot if anything else comes out.

Please block and report this person, and do not engage or talk to them under any circumstance. Please stay safe out there!

I will write for the most forgettable character in cod ghosts guess who?

Take that guitar and break it in ma head

WHAT IM PLAYING

Davjd Hesh Walker the man you are.

warning NSFW sound!

anyway had to do this idk

Ofc...OFC you will write whatever this shit was and ignore my req that has been like month

You think this is bad? Wait till I make Riley start a podcast.