T

multishipper I'm trying to get worse tw:sh/talking about sh

[shit1tsh1m4g41n]

𝐃𝐍𝐈: Trump suporters, 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐬, 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐬, Sexists

﹏𓊝﹏

˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡˚꩜🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆˚࿔ name 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝕾𝖆𝖌𝖊

age: 18+

⋆˚࿔ pronouns and sexuality 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝕾𝖍𝖊/𝕳𝖊/𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖞

𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐈𝐃

˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡˚꩜🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

⌗ !! ꒰ Interests ꒱ 🪼⌗

~𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

~𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐭

~𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬

~𝐀𝐫𝐭

~𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬

~𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬

⌗ !! ꒰ Dislikes ꒱ 🪼⌗

~𝐑𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞

~𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

~𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

~𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

~𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

⌗ !! ꒰ Fandoms ꒱ 🪼⌗

𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀; 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐄𝐑𝐀 (𝐇𝐏); 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒; 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒; 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔; 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑; 𝐃𝐏𝐒; 𝐃𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐑

(I will update it once in a while)

[rawme-price]

Thinking about dog shifter!ghost who is big even by shifter standards.

The kind of big that makes people nervous to be around him. Some instincts in their mind triggered at the sheer size of him. The few times ghost has felt calm or happy enough to shift around others, they freeze up and shift away from him. No one truly trusts him.

No one, it seems, but you.

"Wait, you're a shifter? I had no idea!" You ask him one night when he mentions having to shift on the field. leaning towards him excitedly only to remember yourself and blush "ah. I mean. You don't owe it to me, I'm just curious–"

"I'm scary," ghost interrupts you, eyes half-lidded in that calm way he gets after eating your meals "didn't want to shock you."

"....please? Please ghost, I promise I won't scare." You beg, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

Thing is, ghost...wants to shift. He wants to sink into that simple headspace, wants to be soft and safe with you. He trusts you more than he should.

So ghost sinks further into the couch, breathes deeply, and shifts.

He's bracing for the anxiety, for the fear, for the forced play of calmness. He isn't prepared for your gasp of awe and hands suddenly petting his face "oh! Look at you!! You're nearly as big as Titus, aren't you, simon?"

Turns out, you grew up with big dogs and all ghost does is remind you of home.

"Awww you're not scary at all!" You coo, scratching behind his ears and giggling in delight when his tail begins to rapidly thump against the couch "just a big boy! Yes! Yesss so cute!!

Is it technically socially unacceptable to baby-talk and shifters in their animal form? Yes. Will ghost stop you? Absolutely not. He's too busy climbing all over your and happily snuffling your neck and face and hands and—

He really likes being shifted. Had no idea he needed it so bad.

That night, you fall asleep with a giant dog on top of you, happily rumbling with your fingers in his fur. It's the first night in months ghost hasn't had nightmares.

[asian-queer-muslim-writer]

Regulus never told anyone, and Sirius refuses to acknowledge it, but when Sirius ran away, Regulus heard him get out of his room he was locked in, limping, and Regulus quickly bolted out of Sirius' room (where he was waiting for him) to his own and took the bag he'd packed and hid under the flooring, along with a few healing potions he'd developped just in case, before going out of his room to the door.

The door was already open, and Regulus saw Sirius standing outside, bloody and hurt. Sirius looked at Regulus and Disappeared.

Regulus stayed there, on the door frame, waiting for Sirius to reappeare, for hours, before Walburga found him and punished him for wanting to get out, for letting Sirius run away

[kangels-issues]

Note game! Cause I got stuff i gotta do

key: done, have to do, not yet

5 notes: I write down how I feel

10 notes: I put my clothes away

20 notes: I pack up my stuff in a better way

25: I clean out my bag

30: I clean out my backpack

40: I finish part one of a project

45: I text my friends

50: I do part two of project

55: I do the last part

60: I start reading a book I've been meaning to

65: I write my script for sumin

100: I finish the book

105: next book

115: finish it

120: I start the last book (the longest)

150: I finish it

200: I actually do a selfcare day

220: I do all my missing work

Spam welcome<3

Edit: HOLY SH- im upin' the last two

[kallmekenzie24]

@canyonmooncreations I present to you:

Sweets from the missus?

This got out of hand so fast. Do I know what it is? Not a single clue, but it’s here and it’s alive. I love it, I think it’s absolutely adorable. But to each their own 🤍

Warnings: there is none? swearing ig, Ghost threatening Gaz a few times, no use of Y/N bc i dunno, if you squint reader is chubby/curvier but it’s mostly left up to interpretation, what else??? fluff?? Gaz is probably OOC i dunno, felt right.

P.S. this is probably dumb but I DONT CARE! I’ve had syrup brain, my thoughts have been moving like molasses. words are words at this point.

Word count: 3.9k and some change

also somebody asked to be tagged hehehhe @edgarapoecolouredglasses

They’ve been there since the beginning.

Since one day Ghost rolled up onto base smelling a little too sweet, and his t-shirt a little too clean, and was that- yes, his casual balaclava had been…….washed?

They assumed he had to have been kidnapped, or maybe being held at gunpoint and forced to live like a civilized human. It’d make sense why he hadn’t been staying at the barracks. Or why his shoulders have been tenser than normal, and his attitude more gruff. He was on edge, irritated.

A little too short to be the Lieutenant they were used to. It was almost like something was under his skin, an itch he couldn’t scratch.

They threw around ideas for a few weeks. Climate change, holidays, went as far as to consider he just needed a good blowjob, but it all began to make sense when Ghost settled down in the common room, and suddenly he had a lunchbox, and out of that lunchbox came cookies.

The gravelly voice caught everyone’s attention, and suddenly lunch didn’t seem so important anymore.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” His tone was angry, eyes rolling back as far as they’d go in frustration.

The boys immediately were snickering, fingers reaching for the pink plastic container.

Ghost practically snarled at them, fiddling through the rest of his lunch to find everything littered with the touch of you.

“Got something you’d like to tell us L.T.?” Gaz’s words were wrapped up nice and tight with amusement as he tore apart the cookie in his hand, popping a small bit into his mouth when Ghost looked at him with eyes like stone.

The 141 went dead silent, eyes glued to their superior in utter curiosity. It was obvious they were all stifling a laugh, especially at the cute little sticky note taped on top, with ‘have a good day’ scribbled neatly on the yellow paper.

“None ‘a y’r fuckin’ business is wha’ I ‘ave t’ tell ya.”

“Right right,” Gaz nodded, eyeing Soap, who was overindulging into the desserts, before looking back at Ghost as he tossed his own cookie back into the container. “So, did you get into baking recently or-”

He was cut off by a rough slap to the back of his head, pain trickling down his neck and through his temples, but he couldn’t help to laugh. This was fucking hilarious.

Soap’s voice finally bled through the silence with a mouth full of choclate chips. “If I were you, I’d shut my fuckin’ mouth,”

“Eat y’r cookies Johnny,” Ghost was dead-staring Gaz now, and Soap merely gave a joking salute before walking away with the container trapped between his hands.

It was almost certain that Ghost was about to pound Gaz’s lights out, when Price walked up behind him, arm looping casually over the sergeants shoulder. “I’d say he’s got himself a missus. A lil’ lady he ain’t told us about. That right?” A smile was beaming beneath his mustache, graying whiskers doing nothing to hide his pleasure at the way Ghost squirmed.

The Lieutenant’s hands began clenching in and out of fists, and he ignored the squinted eyes of the rest of his team. With a frustrated grunt, he swiped the lunchbox off the counter, bringing the same hand up to point at Price’s face. “Reckon y’r wrong.”

It was all they could do not to burst out rolling on the ground with laughter. “He’s fucking whipped, mate.” Gaz showed up to training later with a black eye.

It took them, or really Gaz, about six whole months to coax it out of Ghost. For some reason, unbeknownst to him, the mere mention of what he didn’t know to be you, struck a nerve deep inside him. It rattled him to his core, making the soldier fiercer, angrier, more inclined to make shitty decisions.

He spent most days griping, yelling at his team to keep their ‘grimy mitts outta my life and on y’r dicks, yeah?’

But, one day, it just kinda…….stopped.

All of a sudden that ferocious, angry man seemed a little bit softer as he walked into the barracks, a demeanor about him that didn’t seem so high-strung. His voice was calmer, tone even once more.

He sat down at the table so casually, unzipping his lunchbox to reveal an overflowing treasure chest of food. Nothing but simple baritone hums of satisfaction escaped from his throat when every now and then he’d find something he liked inside, hidden beneath a few loads of fruit.

Gaz was stunned, truth be told.

The man sitting in front of him today was completely different than the one he’d been witnessing. What the fuck was going on?

Finally he’d had enough when Ghost opened a container of desserts without a single protest; when Gaz saw him SMILE beneath the mask, saw him flick the note on top, tucking it into his back pocket; when, as if the world hadn’t already crumbled enough between the sergeant’s fingers, he watched as Ghost ate every. single. brownie. That was when he just couldn’t take it anymore.

All at once he exploded.

He slammed the fork down on his plate, breathing heavy before picking it back up again. “Okay, I can’t do this. What the fuck-” He couldn’t get out a single accusation before Ghost’s rumble of a voice barreled through the man’s ears.

“‘er name’s ma’am t’ you,” He didn’t turn from his lunch, just continued fiddling with the different snacks, laser focused on the sandwich you’d made him. “and she’s my roomie.”

Okay, yep, the world just ended. Any minute fire would explode outside and Gaz would be swallowed up by a black hole.

“‘ow we met isn’t important, wha’ you need t’ know is she’s a good lass, and if I ever ‘ear you makin’ jokes about ‘er again, I’ll rip y’r fuckin’ tongue out ‘a y’r mouth and feed it t’ ya. Alright Sergeant?” The title fell flat and Gaz was stunned to silence.

It was once. He mentioned, when Ghost had walked in, how maybe he’d finally gotten him some good pussy. He’d never make it again. “Yes, Lieutenant.”

Soap walked in just as the tension grew unbearable, his boisterous personality only growing in size when he saw his L.T. sitting there with a brand new container of sweets. “‘Ey L.T., did the bonnie make any fer me?”

It was almost second nature the way his fingers looped around a second container, his arm flexing as he held it out to Soap. Johnny took it greedily, barely making it to the counter before he’d scarfed down two brownies. 

“You-how-“ Gaz looked around in bewilderment “You knew?”

Soap shrugged, ignoring the way crumbs of choclate smudged on his cargo pants. “You didn’t?”

As if it couldn’t get any worse, Price wasn’t far behind, and he absentmindedly grabbed a sweet out of Soap’s bowl, ignoring the way he shouted out a ‘ey ya arse, get yer own’.

Ghost’s voice was booming over the awkward silence. “Over ‘ere.” ANOTHER. CONTAINER.

Soldier by soldier filed in, each one looking less surprised than the last. They all took their respected containers with hums of satisfaction, and eventually, Gaz looked around and noticed that each of his friends were hunched over a different dessert, nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and chewing filling the common room.

“What the fuck?” Heads snapped up at the sergeant’s loud tone, glorified confusion being left in its wake. “Is someone gonna tell me what the hell is going on around here?”

Dead silence. Like crickets.

“C’mon you can’t be serious.” He tried to let out a laugh, the sound mixing with a scoff and getting him no response.

The action, however, made Ghost turn around, narrowed eyes staring at the soldier like he could simply choke him out with nothing but a look. “Problem mate?”

Incredulously, he widened his eyes, grasping onto his plastic fork like a lifeline. “Yeah, I have a problem.”

“With wha’?” Mighty thin ice he was walking on, he could tell by the edgy tone to his Lieutenant’s voice, but he practically sprinted across that thin sheen of it anyway.

“With your missus. What else?” All breathing stopped, and Ghost adjusted himself in his chair, cocking his head almost in mockery. He was about to rock some shit.

“Keep on, see wha’ ‘appens t’ y’r teeth.”

Gaz took a final look around, frustration bubbling in his chest. After a moment, he sighed, his features easing up before he mumbled quietly. “Where’s my sweets?”

Soap let out a load bark of laughter before anyone else could react, and only stuffed it down when Ghost bellowed right behind him. “‘aven’t ya ‘eard. M’ sweet’art don’t like ya. Says you got an ego.” It wasn’t true, Gaz, minus Soap, of course, had been your favorite from all his stories. But he was the only one you had yet to meet, and you wondered why? Turns out it was punishment for being a dick.

“The only way you get in with the lil’ hen is by goin’ to dinner.” Soap again, mouth full of his final sweet, immediately he was migrating over toward Price, fingers eager to steal back what he was owed.

Gaz was watching in utter confusion, feeling like a complete and total child at the way his chest croaked with jealousy. “Well, I can do dinner.”

Ghost shook his head, beginning to tidy up his very large mess. You’d packed him a lot. “Not ‘appenin,”

And Gaz- almost -pouted. “Why not?”

Price spoke up this time, “Missus has to want you to come, only way you go is by talking to her yourself.”

How the fuck was he supposed to do that when he didn’t even know she existed?

“Well, how-when-what?” He felt like a bumbling idiot as his food laid out cold in front of him.

Ghost was quick to finish, placing all the empty containers he’d been handed back into the paper bag they came in. “She’ll be by later t’ drop off dinner for Johnny over ‘ere, talk to ‘er then. She might be willin’ t’ change ‘er mind.”

Gaz was sitting there, frozen in time, hand going clammy around his fork. What. the. fuck?

Just as Ghost was walking out the door, he stopped, back facing Gaz. “Don’t call ‘er missus t’ ’er face, don’t tell ‘er anything about wha’ I do, and for the love ‘a God, don’t get ‘er talkin’ to much, we’ll neva’ get ‘ome at tha’ rate.” He was gone before Gaz could say a word.

He finished his food cold, and found himself absolutely, one hundred percent, totally fucking confused.

Later that evening, as Gaz had been told, Ghost was pulled aside, during a briefing, by the new secretary. She was timid, shaky hands lingering too long on the Lieutenant’s shoulders. “Sir, there’s someone here to see you.”

He didn’t even give the woman a glance, just stared at Price head-on, grunting in response.

She backed away, just slightly, bending down to whisper in his ear like it’s a secret, like he doesn’t know. “Says she’s your roommate, has a few bags in her hand.” She smiles as though she’s proud of herself, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. She wasn’t shy, just playing pretend to get closer to her prey. “I told her without a proper ID she’s not allowed in, should I ask her to leave?” That grasps his attention, not the way she bats her eyelashes, or the way her lips brush the shell of his ear, but because she said she left you standing- alone -outside. And why the hell is his sweet’art still out there in the dark, where it’s cold and wet and dangerous?

“Wha’ the bloody ‘ell are ya standin’ ‘ere lookin’ at me for. Let ‘er in.” His voice is an octave to loud and it leaves the secretary with red cheeks and sad eyes.

“Yes sir.” She tugs at her to-tight pencil skirt as she walks away, trying to hide her sniffle as the door clicks shut behind her.

There’s only a split second of silence, a passing moment where all eyes stare at their Lieutenant’s heaving chest before Price clears his throat and tosses a file on the table.

It takes around ten minutes, the entire time Gaz is itching to see you, to know what’s got his team so utterly domestic about you. He hadn’t heard a single ounce of chatter when it came to your name, didn’t know anything about your personality or about your looks, all he knew was Ghost had this sensitive little spot hidden deep down for you, and if you merely grazed it, he’d become some unrecognizable beast of a man.

The loud sound of laughter filled the hallways, and it was a laugh he’d never heard before. Sweet, kind, pure. Muffled voices followed shortly after and suddenly there was another knock on the door.

Price wasted no time in swinging it open, deft fingers immediately reaching for the bags at your hands.

“John!” You opened your arms for a hug, reaching up around his Captain’s neck and squeezing tight.

Price chuckled deep from his chest, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you tight to his body with an exaggerated grunt that warranted another laugh from you. “Hey darlin’, missed you round here.”

Round here? Gaz’s tongue felt heavy as he watched you pull back, watched you kiss his Captain on the cheek.

“I brought dinner, wasn’t sure how many there’d be, but it’s here anyway.”

Price nodded, placing the bags down on the table, on top of his files, his sacred sacred files.

What were you doing to them?

Soap was next in line, but rather than beelining for you, he ran straight to the steaming pile of food. He searched every bag, eventually finding a takeout box with ‘Johnny B. Goode’ written on the top.

Nickname? Inside joke? Gaz didn’t understand it, but then again, he didn’t understand a single fucking thing that was happening right now.

“Hey, find your manners dude,” You shoved on the soldiers shoulder, and he let you push him out of the way. “Go wash your hands and I’ll fix it up, all of you.” You didn’t even have to look up before the rest of the men were on their feet, mindlessly wandering to the nearest bathroom as you’d told them so.

Gaz just sat there, gaping at the scene before him with wide eyes. Ghost was last to stand, sauntering over to you with those tense, taut shoulders of his.

But the second you looked up at him, smiled and said, “Hi Riley, I brought your favorite.” He looked smaller somehow, less rugged.

“Thanks sweet’art.” He looped an arm around your stomach, planting a kiss to your cheek through the fabric of his mask.

You merely hummed in response, to busy laying out takeout boxes, names written in sharpie designated on each lid. There was another bag filled with drinks.

“This lad ‘ere is Gaz, you call ‘im Kyle. Sergeant, this is my roomie.” You looked up with big, bright eyes, smiling nice and wide.

Ghost gently patted your hip before slipping out to wash his hands, leaving the two strangers to stand there in silence.

At least, that’s what he thought. But you were quick to stifle that awkward tension, hand reaching out across the table to shake his. “Hi Sergeant, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” Gaz blinks, wishing he could say the same. “Simon’s told me a lot about you.”

“What?” He barely realizes he said it out loud before your dropping your hand, pulling it back in defeat to mess around with the drinks.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat since you, ya know, haven’t stopped by for dinner.” That irked him for a moment, how were you seriously being passive aggressive when he just found out about you today? But then, your sweet laughter followed suit, and he began to understand why the entire task force’s outer exterior had begun to melt.

“I brought you a little bit of everything, I hope it’s good.”

“It’s-I-I’m sure it’s fine.” He threw on a smile, watching familiar shadows creep back down the hallway.

“Good, now go wash your hands please.”

He found himself obeying like an obedient puppy. ‘Yes ma’am,’ slipping perfectly off of his tongue.

As he walked past, you stopped him, doe eyes blinking softly up at the man before yet another smile managed to break out on your soft features.

You pulled him into a hug, hand rubbing circles on his back as you squeezed him tight. “Really glad to meet you Sergeant.”

As though a tidal wave came across him, all at once a wave of understanding crashed over his body. He understood why you were so loved. From the sweet smell of your hair, your perfume, your clothes, to the plushness of your waist, and the sound of your breathing, your voice. Every part of you was soothing, squishy, and oh so sweet. It had Gaz melting into your touch, and just like all the rest of his men, he settled into his name, Kyle. Kyle was different than Gaz, different than sergeant, he was a human.

“Call me Kyle, yeah?” You gave his back a small squeeze before pulling back, and he found himself aching for your touch.

You left your hands lingering, softly squeezing each piece of skin along his arm until your hands were back on dinner. Eventually the sound of your name filled the room, and he realized that you were telling it to him, but his ears were ringing and his brain so foggy it barely registered.

“I dunno what Riley told you to call me, but ignore him. He’s too sassy for his own good.” Did you giggle? Fuck yeah that’s what he heard. All the same he heard the serious glint to your tone. Oh, you were feisty too.

Ghost brough the whole fucking package.

“I’ll be right back, just gonna-” He held up his hands, moving out the door before your hands could stop him again.

There was no air in his lungs as he walked down the hallway, barely two feet before big brutes were standing in front of him.

“Meet the missus?” Soap was slapping him on the shoulder, laughing at the glazed out look on his face. “I’ll reckon so. She’s a sweet hen, bit of a looker, no?”

“Watch it.” Ghost’s tone was soaked in…….laughter?No, no, he wasn’t laughing, but he was lighter, almost floating on this plane in between his lieutenant and whatever he’d become for you.

They all were.

“Yeah, she’s nice,” Gaz threw a smile on, ignoring whatever the fuck Soap was mumbling as he pushed past several of his men.

Ghost was grazing his shoulder, wide frame practically taking up the entirety of the hallway. “‘ow’d it go?” Gaz stopped walking, heart thumping in his throat, when did it end up there?

“Good yeah good, she’s real sweet.”

Ghost grunted. “Like suga’”

An awkward nod before they were standing in silence, and Gaz was buzzing with questions. “Just, when did this happen? It’s been, what, like six months since you moved off base and now all of a sudden you’ve got yourself a missus, I-”

“Roomie, but keep on.”

“I’m just confused is all.” Gaz was standing there as shell-shocked as ever, practically hearing the way his Lieutenant’s gears shifted in his head, finally he stiffened, walking a step forward.

“Nothin’ to be confused about. She wasn’t ‘ere, she is now. You either like ‘er or ya don’t. I suggest you do or I’ll beat the bloody ‘ell out of ya.” That was that and once more Gaz was left alone and in a constant state of, what the fuck?

He followed orders, washed his hands while trying to string together some coherent thought on how you two became whatever you were.

So, from what he gathered, you weren’t together, but Ghost talks about you like you are, everyone does, but when Gaz tries to, he’s corrected every damn time without fail.

Maybe he wasn’t in on it yet, hadn’t fallen into your good graces. He’d like to. He’d like to see what it was like to see that smile more often, to feel the plushness of your stomach shoved against his own.

He thought about your skin as he walked back to the briefing room, thought about your smile, your lips, as he sat down in front of his box of dinner.

“Alright you gremlins, dig in while it’s warm.” He thought about and watched your hands as you grabbed your own drink, and, at first, you looked up, analyzing your surroundings. For a mere moment, Gaz hoped you’d come sit by him. After all, you needed to be better acquainted, of course. He was the new guy, surely you’d give him some attention.

As if on autopilot though, you sat right next to Ghost, shoved that chair as close to him as you could and rolled your head onto his shoulder.

Gaz watched as his Lieutenant ate slowly, unlike the rest of the men, who were scarfing down dinner like mad idiots.

Ghost was calm, taking his time with each side. He wasn’t starving for a good meal like the rest of them. You must keep his belly full, it’d make sense why he seemed less irritated.

Gaz’s thoughts wandered a moment to long and he wondered what other…..appetites, you satiated.

Just as he grabbed his fork to counteract the small bulge forming in his pants, he caught eye of a smile being quirked on Ghost’s lips. His mask was barely up above his lip, just enough where he could take a bite without meeting metal to cloth.

He watched as he turned to meet your forehead, leaving a light kiss on your hairline. He watched him whisper something, watched you laugh, watched you say something back and watched him laugh.

“Wha’ d’ya say to m’ sweet’art for bringin’ dinner?”

Soap’s ‘thank you’ was muffled around a huge bite of food, Price’s was a gruff ‘thank you darlin’, Roach’s was a nod, but Gaz was stuck staring.

Staring at the way your bodies melded, the way your soft voice was just loud enough for Ghost to hear. The way you smiled out at the team. You didn’t seem them for what they were, you saw people. Men who were hungry, wanting.

It was like a bomb went off in Gaz’s head when he saw the way his Lieutenant leaned back in his chair, shoving his takeout box in front of you and handing you the fork.

“Not hungry?”

“Nah, I’ll eat when I get ‘ome lovie.”

You pouted. “Thought it was your favorite.”

He nodded, patting your thigh. “It is, but y’r starvin’, can ‘ear your belly rumblin’. Fill ‘er baby, mine can wait.”

Gaz’s semi-boner was gone as quickly as it came and he focused on his food. He mumbled his own, ‘thank you ma’am.”

Never again would Gaz look at you through lust-colored lenses. You were more than that, better. And you belonged to Ghost, that much was clear, it was a line he’d never cross. Because from the simple touch of his Lieutenant’s hand, he saw the claim on you, they all did. Even if you didn’t know it, if their little birdie was clueless, they knew.

You were off limits. Roommate or not, a missus was a missus.

The next week, Ghost came in with another bag, and this time whenever Gaz walked in, there was a container of his own sitting down on the table.

‘Eat up Mr. Sergeant :)’

Fucking hell. They were all whipped.

[ourstarman]

No one can convince me that Sirius didn’t love Regulus until the very end. He was absolutely angry at him and his views. He despised the choices Regulus made and his willingness to embrace their parents bigotry. But Sirius is nothing if not loyal, and no matter how much he wished he didn’t, he loved his stupid little brother

[twolegsandbleeds]

john price has been fucking you for months.

he'll bend you over his desk without a word, fucking into you from behind while mission reports scatter across the floor. he'll eat you out in the back of the humvee post op - both of you still streaked with dirt and someone else’s blood, making you come on his tongue with an ease that should be considered concerning. he pushes you to your knees in cramped storage cupboards between briefings, and your hands are already at his belt before he even speaks, freeing his already half-hard cock without even needing to be asked.

but he’s never kissed you.

not once.

he’s dragged his mouth over every inch of your body - sucked bruises into the curve of your breast, bitten marks into your hips - but never your lips.

you asked him about it once, breathless and bare next to him after he'd fucked you stupid.

he’d rolled his eyes.

“don’t like it, love. nothin’ personal.” a lazy smirk. “i kiss your pretty cunt enough, don’t i?”

you told yourself it was just one of his… quirks. you accepted it.

until tonight.

you saw him at the pub just off base, his arm slung around the waist of a tall blonde woman. they were wearing matching gold bands - wedding rings. a ring you’d never once seen on his finger before.

you watch, frozen in place, as he leans down and kisses her.

not hungry. not demanding.

soft.

reverent.

hiss hand cups the back of her neck like she's something precious, and he rests his forehead against hers for a moment afterward, eyes closed, just the two of them in their own little bubble.

your stomach drops. your throat suddenly so dry that you feel like you might choke.

as you turn back to the door, your eyes burn.

that was why.

he didn’t kiss you because he was saving that for her - his wife.

[kheiuwu101]

⚠️CW, ALL FAKE⚠️

I did something..... Introducing Cutsune Miku

[triskeleaficionado]

UC or ER?

[drpathetique]

HONESTLY THOUGH

THIS IS BOTH ACCURATE AND EFFECTIVE

[whos-this-lisa-person]

Urgent Care is for your "Oh no!" accidents.

Emergency Care is for your "Oh fuck!" accidents.

[yeahokayillreblogthat]

yeah okay ill reblog that!

[ohclaire]

Clingy drunk!reader who the second a drop of alcohol enters your system you need to be attached to one of the boys.

They know you’ve nose dived past tipsy when you tip sideways and land your head in Gaz’s lap, a little too hard.

“Oof—!” Kyle flinches up for a second at the impact, “careful, honey.”

“Sorry,” you smush your cheek into his thigh, hand coming up to fumble around blind for his hand. When you finally find it you forcefully move it to be on your head.

He knows his cue, his hand moving to caress your head without your aid. You instantly melt further into him and hum in content.

John smirks in amusement and continues sipping from his beer, Johnny just smiles as Simon rolls his eyes fondly. They like to take bets on how many drinks you’ll go before succumbing to the clingy urges—tonight it was 5.

They let the silence linger for a while before Johnny breaks it. “Anyone want’a play cards?” He suggests smugly.

Kyle looks up from where he was playing with your hair to glare at him. You have a sort of drunken routine and Johnny knows the suggestion of cards will get you up off Kyle, and clinging to Johnny instead. All part of his master plan.

Right on time, you shoot off of Kyle, an excited look in your eyes.

“Yes! I’m on Johnny’s team.” You declare.

You loved being on a team with Johnny because most times when you played cards you were drunk off your ass and would not win, but Johnny was so good at cards it didn’t matter.

It was stupid because no one else was in teams…you just freeloaded off Johnny and bragged like you had won the game yourself, but the guys put up with it. It really wasn’t “put up with”…they would kill for you. Letting you brag about a card game was the least of what they’d do for you. Besides, they liked to see the smug smile and receive your teases.

Even if they did care, Johnny would force them to let it happen, because when you were checked out “winning the game,” you would wrap yourself around Johnny, trying to steal his warmth as he worked to win the game for you both. Which was a situation Johnny deemed more than enough payment for your freeloading.

So, you plopped down beside Johnny as he shuffled the cards, arms wrapping around his bicep and cheek smushing up into his shoulder. It made it incredibly hard for him to continue his shuffling, but he didn’t say anything.

Kyle was still glaring as he sat across the table and collected his cards.

“Siiiiii…can you get me another shotttt…” you mumble against Johnny shoulder. You strategically waited until he stood to join cards so that he would have to comply.

He would get you whatever you wanted even if he was halfway around the world, but you felt clever this way.

He just grunted and went to the kitchen, returning with a shot glass filled with a clear liquid.

Simon shared a look with John, a small tilt of his head and an approving look from John verifying that the glass indeed just contained water.

You took it with a chaser and were none the wiser.

You spent the rest of the game practically falling asleep on Johnny’s shoulder, only waking up once he won to bravely announce your victory. And as such, you got to choose the movie.

You play your favorite, the one that you’ve forced them to watch hundreds of time and they’ve never complained about, before jumping onto the couch and plopping your back against Simon’s chest.

He’s so expansive that he makes the best pillow. You can let all your muscles relax and he’ll wrap his arms around you and make sure you stay upright, leaving you able to make his bicep into your pillow. Plus he’s incredibly warm, so all around, he’s your favorite movie companion.

You spend most of the movie in a half-asleep, comfy, drunken daze until the end credit music wakes you back up.

You yawn a little and extract yourself from Simon, crawling the short distance into John’s lap. Your legs straddle him and you wrap your arms around his neck because you know he’ll carry you to your room. He might stall a little just to hold you longer but you don’t notice…or care.

Finally he stands, hands supporting you as he lifts you away. “Alrigh’, swee’heart…up we get. I got you.”

He shares one last fond smile with the boys before he takes you back to your room.

Drunk you might be a little closer to admitting your feelings for them than sober you is, so all things considered…they don’t hate when you’re drunk.

[buckelys-starb0y]

Let Barty be absolutely batshit after Evan's death, like let him drag his corpse around for weeks on end talking to it and acting like he's still alive even as their apartment (what was previously their slice of heaven) becomes nearly uninhabitable due to the stench of Evan's rotting corpse, let him cannibalize Evan on the spot in a desperate attempt to get his still barely beating heart in his mouth before he slips away from him forever even as Evan's yelling in pain through his last breath, let him turn on his friends (read: Pandora) and demand she find some way to bring him back to life with her experiments and threaten to kill her if she doesn't, let him go on a killing spree so violent and vile that Dorcas (arguably the Orders' strongest witch) is forced to hunt him down and kill him, let him beg Moody to kill him on the spot and force his wand into his neck so he can be with Evan even as Moody refuses due to knowing Barty as a child

Just please please please let him be actually fucking insane

[maliciouslittlewhiteboy]

remus is someone who will only listen to what he WANTS to hear about his crush—he will completely disregard anything negative about them and be like “omg theyre amazing and perfect”

[starcroww]

Walburga and Orion put Sirius in ballet to teach him discipline and order, then blamed it for making him gay.

[remusjlupinakamoony]

The first time Sirius saw James and Regulus kissing he started crying and yelling stuff about how James is like his brother.

Now he doesn't care at all. He has told the good make out spots in the castle.

[folkloreerathings]

The difference between Sirius' and Reg's friend groups is that when Sirius trauma dumps ab his childhood his friends are horrified but when Reg does his friends are like yeah same

[bwuniiez]

tags: Ghost x reader, fluff

"Meow meow!"

"Oh my God, meow meow!"

"Look, Ghost, the meow meow is so cute!"

Every single time you say that, Ghost has given you the most deadpan look. The worst part is you don't even know if it's deadpan or not. Literally every look he gives could be considered deadpan because of his mask.

Regardless, you keep pointing out any cat you find in the area.

A gray one with white spots speckled all over consistently finds the two of you. He never meows, is always in some corner taking a nap and seems to be an old loner.

"Meow meow!" You call out excitedly. You kneel down on the asphalt and pick him up in your arms, cuddling close to the cat. "Hi, baby! My baby."

You smoosh his cheeks together and he doesn't bite. He doesn't bite! How the hell does he not bite?! Ghost is staring at the both of you with the most perplexed look on his face, eyebrows knitted together and mouth curling like he ate rancid cat food.

"Who's that? Who's that?" You turn to Ghost. "That's my lieutenant! Say hi to Lieutenant Ghost. Say hi!"

You cradle him in your arms like a baby and stand up, walking over to Ghost. His back feels like someone shoved a ramrod down his spine. You pat the cat's butt like he's a baby.

"Say hi, baby."

The cat with his twitchy little nose and fluttering tail, really does look at Ghost. To his surprise, the cat gives a slow blink to the masked man.

"Meow."

You giggle happily, cradling him in your arms some more. Eventually, he wiggles unhappily and you have to put him down.

With his tail high up in the air and his butt on full display, the two of you watch him saunter away like the gentleman he is.

"You know, I think he likes you." You smile at Ghost.

He just stares at you.

"He likes you." He smiles to himself.

[sebaciels-gothic-romance]

“darkshipping is an unhealthy coping mechanism!!” no, you know what a real unhealthy coping mechanism is? self-harm. but you guys seem to love encouraging that.