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Price is the kind of guy that opens car doors, pulls the chair for you, all gentlemanly

Gaz always gets you a bouquet of roses for every date and he secretly saves a rose from each date and presses it in a book to keep it

Soap loves to tease, holding your keys above his head and watching you struggle to reach for them

Ghost greets you with a kiss every time you see him, especially when he gets home after deployment

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such a man...😩🙏

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Someone on the twitter asked if Gabriel’s head-wings(?) get cramped in his helm. The idea of gabe being uncomfortable with the helm on makes me so sad 😭

To cope i have V1 tending to gabe’s aches and pains

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there’s just something about seeing a man do his finances that really awakens something primal in me

especially when it’s john price. sleeves rolled up and reading glasses perched on the bridge of your seat his nose. hunched forward with his elbows on his knees as he looks down at the bills and statements in front of him

a concentrated furrow in his brow that doesn’t shift even he bumps his glasses back up after they slip down or when he scratches at his greying temple

the front room is quiet besides the mumbles of mental math under his breath and the gentle tapping of the calculator in front of him. occasionally calls out to scold you, not maliciously of course, when he finds a particularly high shopping bill from you

pipes down quick, grumbling under his breath instead when you remind him that you can always take back all those lingerie sets that he’s been enjoying over the past week

his poor posture only corrects when you come in to bring him some lunch or a stiff drink. a couple taps to his back as a reminder to straighten up. thanks you with one of his big paws soothing over the small of your back, giving your ass a loving squeeze before going back to the bills in front of him

I know you guys see the vision with this one

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Alright tell me in the tags, what’s Your Poem? That poem you heard once and it has dwelt within you ever since?

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Y'all eat black eye peas on new years?

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hey asshole (flirting)

bday present for my friend astroenby that introduced FOM to me hehe

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new one

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This is me Aya.. ‏🇵🇸

Imagine you wake up with nothing left.That's exactly what happened with us .we moved from having everything to having nothing.In a blink of an eye ,we lost everything, our house ,dreams, memories belongings and our works. We are starting from zero and need your help to climb the leader step by step from scratch.

All the positive words cannot express how generous you are, especially in sharing my posts to inform other donors about the people of Gaza who are still suffering from the terrible conditions caused by the unjust war on Gaza!

Please continue to support us by donating directly or by sharing the link to let others know. Don't hesitate to help people in difficult and miserable times until the dark days are over. 🙏🏻🍉

https://gofund.me/c4c2cf82

https://gofund.me/c4c2cf82

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The fire crackled low in the hearth, casting long shadows across the walls of the bedroom. Outside the windows, the winter winds howled, rattling the glass panes. John should have been sleeping soundly all of his lovers, beside you, the rise and fall of your breaths a comforting reminder of your presence. But the dream- no, the nightmare- gripped him too fiercely.

In his mind, he saw a version of himself he did not recognize. Cold, detached, and unfeeling. He saw you sitting alone at the grand dining table, the candlelight flickering as your plate sat untouched. Your dress, once bright and elegant, seemed dull and rumpled, a reflection of the neglect you endured. It lacked all the love and care Simon ensured each dress of yours would have- it was a mere fabric worn.

In the nightmare, Kyle avoided your gaze when you asked for help organizing the household. He brushed you off with clipped words and empty agreements, leaving you to flounder alone. Kyle. The same Kyle who melted each and every time you’d cup his face and kiss his brows, your love too much to be contained.

Johnny, once so warm and playful, no longer lingered in the kitchens with you. Instead, he turned his back, whispering in hushed tones when you passed by, his laughter cruel instead of kind. Johnny. The same Johnny who uses the sauces and creams to write how much he adores you and wishes you good day, whose arms you’ve slept in more times than can be counted in the hidden nooks of the gardens.

And Simon… Simon barely spoke to you at all. His glances, so full of affection in waking life, were instead sharp and disinterested, as though you were nothing more than an inconvenience. An obstacle. It was harrowing to see Simon, of all, treat you like that when John knew he was well on his way to losing count of the amount of paintings of you that Simon had commissioned and drawn himself.

But the worst of all was himself. The John in the dream sat behind his desk, a fortress of papers and letters and a vast, cold chasm between you. His words were short, his tone clipped. He watched you cry once, silent tears slipping down your cheeks as you excused yourself from his office, and he did nothing. He did not reach out for you, did not comfort you, and when the door closed behind you, he felt nothing but relief that you were gone.

In the dream, you withered.

You wilted under their coldness, your once bright smile replaced with shadows beneath your eyes and quiet, careful movements, as though afraid to disturb them. As though afraid to take up more space than allowed.

You were unloved.

John woke with a start.

His chest heaved, heart hammering so violently it drowned out the sound of the wind outside. His body was drenched in sweat, the sheets twisted around his legs. But none of it mattered- none of it- because you were there.

Curled up beside him, Kyle’s arm around your waist from the back, your face was peaceful, your features relaxed in sleep. The gentle rise and fall of your chest reassured him that you were here, real and warm and safe.

Still, he couldn’t shake the lingering tendrils of fear. He reached out with a trembling hand, brushing your hair back from your face. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake, instead leaning unconsciously into his touch.

God, how could he ever let himself act like that? Even in a dream?

When you woke the next morning, it was to the smell of freshly brewed tea and the sound of soft footsteps. John was already up, but instead of heading to his study as he often did, he was the one by your side with a tray of breakfast.

“John?” you murmured, voice still heavy with sleep. You were so comfortable, and your sleep was ever so peaceful in their arms.

“Morning, love.” He said, setting the tray down before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You blinked up at him in confusion as he fussed over your pillows, propping you up before offering you a steaming cup of tea. “What’s all this, John?”

“Breakfast.” He said simply, though his eyes lingered on you in that way that made your cheeks warm.

You took a sip of the tea, and your lips curved into a soft smile. “You didn’t have to do this. It’s not like I’m sick.”

John didn’t answer right away. Instead, he sat beside you on the bed, taking your hand in his and running his thumb over your knuckles. His gaze was… unusually troubled, now that you noticed. But he spoke before you could say anything.

“Are you happy, Duchess?” he asked suddenly.

Your brows furrowed, tilting your head. “…What?”

“Are you happy?” he repeated, voice quieter this time. He reached for your hand, calloused thumb carressing the soft skin of your palm. “With me. With us.”

You stared at him, unsure where this was coming from, but the vulnerability in his expression tugged at your heart. Setting the tea aside, you turned to him fully, cupping his cheek in your other palm.

“Of course I’m happy,” you said softly. “You’ve all been so good to me, John. Better than I ever expected. More than I could have ever asked for.”

His shoulders sagged with relief, but you could tell something was still bothering him.

“John, honey?”

“I had a dream,” he admitted. “It- it was awful. None of us treated you right. You were lonely and hurting, and we didn’t care. And I just- ”

You silenced him with a kiss, your lips warm and soft against his. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your fingers curling into his hair.

“That’s not real,” you whispered. “You’re not like that. None of you are. You make me feel loved every single day, I swear.”

His arms came around you then, pulling you into his lap and holding you close. “I’ll make sure you always do,” he promised, voice rough. “Every single day.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of tenderness. John refused to let you lift a finger, taking your workload of the day with a kiss to your forehead and sending you to keep Kyle company. Johnny outdid himself with lunch and dinner, plying you with your favorite dishes and desserts. And Simon lingered near you whenever possible, his sharp eyes softer than usual as he kept you close.

By the end of the evening, you were so thoroughly spoiled that you teased John for treating you like porcelain.

“Not porcelain,” he said seriously, cupping your face in his hands as he leaned down to kiss you again. “But precious.”

And as you melted into his embrace, you knew- no nightmare could ever change the way these men loved you.

dukedom au masterlist

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Poor Gabriel, getting himself into situations like this 😔

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Where the FUCK is "Hoes Mad, Reblog to have a karkalicious 2009"

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Me when I realize I'll never have a romance with my favorite character 😢

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dear universe give me ten billion dollars and infinite free time and indestructible hands so i can do every hobby ever

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Poly!141 and their emotional damage

Ghost! who after a long, draining mission finds comfort in your waiting arms, shushing him as you hold him to your chest and pet down his blonde locks.

Price! who's life was saved by Johnny, almost losing him and he needs your reassurance that he was worthy of it, worthy of such a sacrifice from one of his boys.

Johnny! who hasn't been quite the same since that bullet pierced his skull. In the rare moments where you see how it affected him, you will find him on his back on the floor, staring at the ceiling and barely breathing. (it's a little unnerving to say the least, but he's generally fine.)

Gaz! who now has a fear of heights that he refuses to admit to. But when he finds you out on the balcony, leaning over to see the cat on the balcony below, he snatches you from the railing and hauls you inside.