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@lemonwrap
Hi, I'm Lemon! I write Ghostsoap—sometimes longfics and sometimes just drabbles, often with a healthy dose of angst ;) All drabbles and most writing stuff is under the tag #lemonwrap writes, and most of my other stuff is under #lemonwrap’s misc tag.
My Ao3
My Twitter (rarely used)
Drabble and Musings Masterlist (roughly in order posted)
🪱 🍁 (leaf for decomposition. nutrient soil)soil do u bave more traditional sketches by any chance?
thank you for the extra leaf ‼️ yes i do have more
happy pride everyone 😢
Shower thoughts…🚿🧼
Thihihi✨
wheres gaz well who do u think was holding the camera
MW4 is gonna be so ass but at least we’re getting new gifs of our favorite war criminals
Let’s get ourselves a win, yeah, LT?
something about ghost yearning from afar through years...
Dead wife montage but it's all slow motion shots of your dead wife throwing grenades and doing backflips and oneshotting the enemy with their long range weapons
“Calling His Bluff”
Had this idea for a comic swirling around in my brain. Can’t believe how much tac gear I convinced myself to draw for this….
Perfect 🖤
Details below the cut!
my apolocheese everyone for my disappearance… some loving ghoap to compensate
1st base: raw ethically dubious fucking
2nd base: exist in a public space together
3rd base: you witness me have a real, candid emotion
4th base: I reveal an aspect of my tragic backstory to you
Rereading your own writing from more than 6 months ago
inspired by how @lanialania00 draws ghost!
Ghost is definitely missing teeth. Some rotted out of his head as a teenager, when it took years to see a dentist that his parents wouldn't bother bringing him to anyway. A couple were knocked out by a lucky punch during a fight with another kid. Others were pulled out with pliers while he was under Roba's tender care. Christ, he doesn't even remember how he lost all of them, gaps in his mouth matching the gaps in his memory.
Most have been replaced, but not all of them, the scar tissue too dense to drill fake teeth into. It makes his smile, rare as it is, unexpectedly gummy, like a child waiting for their first coin from the tooth fairy.
It's ugly, Simon knows that. He's ugly, and it's not just the missing teeth, but they certainly don't help. He doesn't typically have to try not to smile, so it's not much of a worry, especially since he's almost always wearing his mask. But then he meets Johnny. Johnny, who makes him grin so hard it hurts. Johnny, who makes him want to take the mask off. Johnny, who he doesn't want to scare off with his ugly mug.
Johnny, who laughs when Simon tells him as much.
"Should ken me better'n that by now, Si. Ah'm fearless."
Johnny, who sees Simon's fucked up face and awful teeth, and stays anyway.
MWAH MWAH MWAH
Johnny has a toxic relationship with sex. As a young man, he found himself pursued for his looks, his body, but that was it. No one cared about his thoughts, his intelligence, his capacity to achieve. The only time anyone ever praised him, valued him, was when he was pleasing them in bed.
Otherwise he's too... Johnny.
He is focused and driven in the 141 because this is his chance to prove he's more than just a pretty face. But when things go pear-shaped? If he disappoints someone? He'll renew his efforts in the gym, in training, and then he'll go punish himself by pursuing the one activity he knows people want from him.
-+-
Simon watches Johnny across the bar. He's doing it again. Flirting with whatever eyes look his way. With Johnny, that's always a lot of eyes. He does this after every op where things have gone a bit sideways. He'll choose whichever one is still around once he's drunk himself into a half stupor, and then...
Simon's thumb rubs up the side of his beer bottle, catching the bent level he'd been picking at moments before.
He's not jealous. He's not. And he keeps telling himself that when Johnny slides his fingers through the belt loops of some bloke that looks near bloody Nikolai's age but without the Slavic charm.
Ten minutes go by, and Simon waits before heading out for a smoke. He tells himself he was gonna do it anyway. It's not to catch a glimpse of anything.
As he steps outside stroking his lighter, he sees movement further back. A familiar stocky figure rises from the ground and Not-Nikolai soon swaggers by doing up his jeans. He stinks of stale fags and booze.
"Ahh, LT, come oot fer a cheeky wee peak?" Johnny says as he walks up, dragging a thumb over his lower lip.
"Yer a fuckin' slag, MacTavish," Simon grunts.
"MacTavish?" Johnny asks, surprised. "Shite, I mus' be in the dog house." He pauses, studying Simon in that uncanny way he has. Like he can see beneath the mask. Granted, it's rolled up to Simon's nose, but still. "Ah ye jealous?"
Simon clenches his teeth and then relaxes his jaw. "Don't flatter yaself."
"Fuuh-k, ye are," Johnny says, sidling up. "All ye had tae do was ask, big man." Johnny reaches for Simon's belt, but Simon's quicker. He snags Johnny's wrist and twists his arm up.
"You out yer fuckin' head?"
Johnny grimaces, but he doesn't fight Simon's grip. This close, Simon can see something's wrong. There's a dullness to his eyes. Not the same bright, annoying spark of energy he's used to seeing in the field, on base, fuck, just... any time Johnny's around. It's like he's somewhere else.
"Naw, LT. Golden."
Simon releases his arm and Johnny looks at the reddened marks as they fade. "Sitrep, sergeant."
Johnny grinned. But it wasn't real. A facsimile of a smile. He swept his arms out in a grand gesture. "All gud. Now, if ye excuse me, after ye so brutally rejected me, ah need tae go reassure myself ah can still pull. Another?" He makes a drinking gesture.
"Yeah, Peroni."
Simon watches Johnny head inside and can't help but feel he's watching a train wreck happening in slow motion.
