"𝙄 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚"

ghost who always have a grey, heavy, uninterested air about him but one day he comes to work, and he's got something behind his ribs clawing to be let loose. his teeth are clenched, his eyes sharp. his orders bite harder, his patience runs thinner, and the recruits feel it but don't understand it.

and it's all because you couldn't lie back and get eaten out like every other morning. it was routine. ingrained. automatic. ghost slips under the covers, dips his head between your thighs, and laps at your sex until you leave the mess he loves best— the slick, saturated spot he'd sniff while still wet. (can't blame me, luvie. it's sweet.)

you'd gotten up, thrown your clothes on in a hurry, and had been out the door, keys in hand, before he could get a word in.

unacceptable.

(kyle later catches him and asks him if he skipped breakfast or something. not by choice is what ghost tells him.)

simon’s lover calls him bub.

“love you, bub.”

“s’okay, bub. don’t worry about it.”

“how was your day, bub?”

and he grumbles. says pet names are corny but at least it’s not baby or babe.

but the second you call him simon, he’s on alert. back straightening, ears going hot, hands clamming, and going into a panic.

his brows furrowed as he approached you, looking almost nervous.

“can you get me a water, please?”

and he does it, goes through the motions but he’s so in his head. why the fuck did you call him by his name?

downright pouting and petulant when he plunks down next to you. his confusion so palpable you feel it. even turn to him and ask what’s wrong but all he does is shrug. “s’nothin’.”

your eyes narrow but you nod nonetheless. turning back to what you were doing. but before you know it, he’s huffing.

“s’alright for you to keep callin’ me bub. or whatever shite you want.”

and you have to stifle your laugh because of course, of course!

“thanks for the water, bub.”

them big ol’ eyes

La la land for depressive people

SERJ FROM TODAY

yes

John Price is the type of hold your hand no matter what you both are doing. It brings him comfort and gives him prove of your existance.

He'd hold your hand as you both walk through the farmer's markets on Saturday, watching the various stalls with their prodcuts on display. He'll pick up your favourite flowers, and stop at a stall for some coffee and scones all while holding onto your hand.

You're both watching the soccer on the sofa while you rest on top of him, your head on his chest. John will lazily fiddle with your fingers before interwining his fingers with yours.

Taking a bath together as John subconciously traces the contours of your body but at the end finds his way to your hand to hold it.

Cafe dates are a weekly thing when he is not on deployment. You'll both be sitting at a table sipping your drinks with your accompanying meal. You'll be talking, gushing over whatever piqued your interest that week while John continues to hold your hand, rubbing his calloused thumb over your knuckles as he smiles earnestly while giving you his full attention.

He'll also hold your hand when he comes home drunk from the pub and needs to take a shit. He'll shit on the toilet and hold your hand because he's scared a shark with jump out of the toilet bowel and bite his arse. So your job is to hold his hand while he shits and pull him off the toilet when the 'toilet shark' does attack.

Imagine you start dating John Price when you already have a protective dog at home

You have a girl dog and the first time he homes over she just side eyes him the whole time and whines like, “why is there a man in our home???”

She won’t let him near her or you without growling or barking. You try and apologize to John, explaining that she’s just protective and doesn’t like men, but John’s not offended, saying he’s glad you have her looking out for you.

Once the dog gets more used to having him around and realizes he’s not going to kill and eat you, she calms down a bit, but she’s still very protective.

You can’t play wrestle with him without your poor puppy going crazy thinking he’s attacking you, and if he slaps your ass she gets pissed, barking and growling because, “how dare you hit my mommy!?!?”

And god forbid he raises his voice at you during an argument.

it’s unfortunate that (some) people in fandom spaces are starting to get too comfortable complaining and being rude to writers and artists who create contents they personally don’t like (“why are you making this character a top when he’s obviously a bottom? omg do you even understand his character?” “I’m so sick of seeing fan art and fanfic where this character is portrayed as a sadist when he’s actually misunderstood in my opinions, therefore anyone who disagrees with me is wrong and should be shamed” just to name a few I’ve seen) instead of curating their own fandom experiences by engaging only with contents they do like.

you want more fics where (x) is written in this specific way? either write one yourself or politely expressing your opinion about how you hope there will be more fics where (x) is written in this specific way instead of making fandom a toxic place by being rude to writers and artists who dare make contents that are not to your Personal Liking.

if the universe does not revolve around you, strangers and fandom spaces don’t have to cater exclusively to your personal preferences either.

to all my beloved writers and artists, write whatever you want, draw whatever you want. portray that character in whichever way you want to portray. I hope you have fun doing what you love. don’t let anybody tell you what you can or can’t do with the blorbo. go wild. I will always support you

Gonna make my break-up the blorbo’s problem and I also could not say no to some suggestive bottle placement. Maybe Price is willing to help out in other ways.