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this blog remains up as an archive, but is no longer active.
please find me at my personal blog, heistybeardo, where i would be happy to redirect you to any of my active roleplay blogs.
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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tannertan36

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almost home
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
we're not kids anymore.
Cosimo Galluzzi
Stranger Things
Cosmic Funnies
Xuebing Du

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Love Begins
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
noise dept.
hello vonnie

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One Nice Bug Per Day
Sweet Seals For You, Always
trying on a metaphor

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@pvtkissass
CLOSED.
this blog remains up as an archive, but is no longer active.
please find me at my personal blog, heistybeardo, where i would be happy to redirect you to any of my active roleplay blogs.
There’s a gifset of Gavin saying it’s weird how there are guys who cum without even being touched and Gus sinks in his chair and I think about it a lot.
BC Simmons would probably get off on dirty talk or if Grif blew and kissed all the right places,
Innuendos? o I was pretty sure that wasn’t one.
I was just saying that you like to scream at me.
You still manage to have the absolute worst possible way of wording things.
Well
I certainly know what comes out of your mouth.
Oh, fuck you. And your innuendos, too.
"I could go for some nice hot buns right now."
Are you serious?
Do you even hear any of the words that come out of your mouth?
What's up guys, long time no see.
pvtrednat replied to your post
lol you want me to get on donut? :3~
// whispers YES
// i did it i logged in
Grif let a sleepy grin tug at the corner of his lips when Simmons got a little freaked out by his sudden appearance, the question following his initial scare was an expected one to which Grif simply responded with a lazy shrug. “I’dunno, can’t sleep.” He muttered and brushed it off like no big deal. In all actuality it really wasn’t a huge deal, but for Grif to not be sleeping especially nowadays was always some sort of rare occurrence that it occasionally raised some concerns—well, concerns from those who gave an inkling of a damn anyway. Only time Sarge ever commented was when it was some offhand insult.
When Simmons leaned against the wall of the base Grif shifted closer to his side to join him and pressed his back to the cool walls of the base. Staring up at the sky for a moment to take in the sight of the stars for a moment before he nudged the others side a bit with his elbow. “I think the more interesting question here is aren’t you a little less dressed than usual? Like, no armour or nothing? I’m surprised you managed, you can’t even take off your armour for mundane things like cleaning the base.”
Grif let out a breathy chuckle to himself before turning his head a bit to cast a quick glance over, curious about his expression right now at his little comment. Not that it was overly clever nor was he expecting some sort of over the top reaction, it was more of a not so subtle excuse in his mind to look at Simmons’ face. They kinda did their own thing for a while since they got here and haven’t really spent a lot of their ‘free’ time together as much as they used to, and as much as Grif had valued his sleep since he’d gotten here he’d also missed spending time like this with the other soldier.
"That aside I gotta say, being trapped here sucks balls. And just when I thought we were going home too." His tone was obviously a little disappointed, but it wasn’t something he was about to dwell on considering how things usually went with their little ragtag group of soldiers anyhow. He wasn’t high in his hopes from the start; okay, so that was a bit of a lie, but it helped him cope with the circumstances. That much had been enough for now.
Simmons casts a quick glance at the other soldier as he leans over next to him before going about his business, casting his gaze out across the stretch of canyon before him. Grif's comment grabs his attention, however, and he shoots him what is possibly the most bitchy look he can muster. Psh, whatever, he was out of his armor just as often as anyone else was!
"Well I don't sleep in it," He retorts, rolling his eyes, "You should know that."
Despite his demeanor, the maroon soldier leans over a little to let his shoulder touch Grif's, tilting his head a little to lean it against the other's.
"Tell me about it." He responds with a long sigh, glancing downward at their feet, "I don't know what I expected, though. We never really get a break, do we?"
Trudging sluggishly through the base felt like more of a chore than usual at this point, Grif didn’t even know why he got up. It was still dark, people sleep in the dark, he should be sleeping. While sleep sounded great right about now Grif couldn’t help but be wide awake, he’d been sleeping so much he was pretty sure he was sleeped out. Could someone even sleep themselves into exhaustion? It was hard work sleeping with as much dedication as he did, even serious sleepers like Grif needed a break. Or in this case, some exercise. And by exercise that meant a trip to the storage area where Grif had been nursing a package of oreos ever since the food shortage came around.
He grabbed two, despite his stomach’s demand for more, and nibbled on them as he found himself approaching the exit of the base, maybe some fresh air would make him sleepy. Shoving the last oreo in his mouth Grif headed outside, his bare feet tickled by the grass, he couldn’t be bothered to put on shoes or any semblance of defensive wear. It wasn’t like there was any real threat in this place, sans the huge-ass mecha thing the blues had, but he wasn’t overly concerned as they were at quite a distance and Caboose seemed to have that thing on a theoretical leash. Not that he was overly confident in his ability to keep it under control, but he was sure Caboose would be dumb enough not to make it do anything terrible—at least not to their base anyway.
It wasn’t until Grif rounded one of the walls to the base that he noticed Simmons outside, he wasn’t wearing his armor which was odd. Simmons was the first one, next to Sarge, to preach about how they needed their equipment and defenses up at all times. Grif rolled his eyes and was going to make some comment on him being a hypocrite, but instead he just muttered a casual. “Hey.” And walked up to him, curious about the armor thing, but not about to ask anything in particular; he was sure he’d comment on it later but right now he figured a lazy hi was good enough. He was too tired being not tired to answer, despite what little sense that made he went with it.
Simmons nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears another voice--another person out this late wasn't exactly something he expected, much less his notoriously asleep-before-dusk boyfriend.
"Jesus, Grif," He whines, running a hand through his hair as he turns to face the other soldier, "You scared the shit out of me. You can't just sneak up on people like that!"
Part of him was still confused to be back in reality; god, what was he even thinking about before Grif so rudely interrupted his meditation? Not that he was every anything less than pleased to see the other soldier conscious, much less talking to him, but sometimes a guy just needs a little time alone with his thoughts. The cool air was a pleasing contrast to the usual sun beating down on them, and his socked feet in the grass was a feeling that brought him back to years when he could go outside on a regular basis without having to protect himself from bullets. Yeah, that's where his mind had gone. Life outside the army, what little he remembered, was a constant reminder of why he even kept trying--though now, it was more or less the reason he'd like to survive this shipwrecked nightmare. Were they really that close to being done? Or would they go right back to the same old routine? Frowning a little, he shakes off the thought and leans over against the wall of the base, eyeing the other soldier up and down with crossed arms.
"Why are you even up?"
Man, pretending not to want him is incredibly exhausting.
// mmmmnnn okay guys this is an idea that's been rattling around in my head for a long time and i did the thing so GO FOLLOW THIS BLOG PLS AND THANKS
yay for au!
// SEND ME SEXUAL SUNDAY THINGS
make simmons feel incredibly awkward about his sexual frustration
"Hiii Simmons~!"
Hm?
Oh, hey Donut.
.
Things had been slow lately. Painfully slow. Like, he was used to not having much to do, but this was an entirely different level of having nothing to do. Sarge hadn't even pestered him and Grif with something completely trivial and pointless for a while, which lead him to believe that even he had given up on pretending that there was any kind of order around here anymore.
Grif was scarce, spent most of his time on his own napping or eating or whatever else he entertained himself with. And Simmons, not wanting to come off as needy, had left him mostly to his own devices. Letting on that he was a little more starved for attention and clingy than he'd ever admit was definitely not on his agenda, and he didn't expect a serious response from Grif if he ever ended up confronting him about it anyway.
So he spends another night by himself, messing with the computer he'd started to build in his spare time--it was almost finished, but it still needed a few more personal touches. After he's tinkered with that for a few hours, he fishes a shirt out from the messy covers of his bed and slips it on with his sweatpants, running fingers through messy hair as he makes his way out of his makeshift room and into the storage where they keep their small portion of the food rations. Having long since given up on his vegan diet, Simmons settles for the nearest snack he can find (some of Grif's Oreos), munches on a few, and ditches the container in favor of wandering out into the clear night air. At least he didn't have to worry about getting shot anymore, as far as he knew.
So so… nothing really to do.
I’ve mostly been trying to entertain myself while you were gone.
Oh, come on. Don't try to tell me I'm the only one around here that can keep you entertained.
You must have a plethora of friends. Isn't hanging out with your dad supposed to be lame, anyway?