#anyway this is about simon lmao

[allyallyorange]

Don’t talk to me 🤧

[seliasvault]

Comforting the Lieutenant

Simons been waking up every night. Jolted with a heart rate high enough to give him a heart attack for the past week, and it’s your fault.

Last week, on a high-stakes mission, you’d left cover to hit the enemy. You’d succeeded, of course, putting a bullet through every one of the soldiers in the window, but you’d disobeyed a direct order. If Simon hadn’t been so caught off guard, he would have wrung your neck right after you landed. Did you have a death wish?

Instead, he kept it in, shell-shocked with dreams of cradling your dead body, begging you to hold on. Even after his choppy slumber, there’s no respite, the image of your bloody body, holes through your chest burn his retinas, enough to drive any man insane.

And so he finds himself, after a particularly gruesome nightmare, at your door. It’s barely dawn, but he needs to see your face, feel the blood pumping through your veins. He knocks, loud, loud enough to startle you awake.

Walking to the door, stumbling slightly from sleep, you open it, hands rubbing at your eyes as you try to pry them open. Leaned against the door, to your shock is your Lieutenant.

“Lieutenant? It’s-“ You glance your head to the alarm clock that sits next to your bedside.

“It’s four in the morning,” you whine out, confused. You think he was trying to get you on your feet earlier for training.

While you appreciate every moment spent with him, and practically swoon whenever he’s near you, being woken up had the effect to wipe your silly crush out of the picture.

What your met with however are Simons wide eyes, still waking from his nightmare. His hair is tousled, messy from running his hand through it. Mask missing from his face. And while you’ve seen his face before, you’ve never seen it like this.

There’s something else, though. His chest is heaving and his breath is heavy, labored even.

With no response your sleepy brain takes him in, finally catching up he’s in his own pajamas, with a sleeveless shirt. That part surprises you, you’ve never seen him in anything casual.

“Are you okay?” You lean toward him, brows furrowed almost ready to catch him lest he fall. And he looks like he might.

His chest keeps rising, concern now blossoming within you. You take a full step forward, placing you hand on his chest, his heart rate hammering under your fingers.

“Hey, I-it’s okay-“ You move your other hand to rest on his bare shoulder, you’ve learned contact is the best way to steady someone.

“Lt I’m here with you, it’s alright, can you breathe with me?”

Simon had never been this vulnerable in front of someone, especially you. But you’re alive standing in front of him. He can feel the warmth of your skin seeping into his being. But he can’t help his thinking, the trail leading to everyone he’s lost. Can’t help the way his brain spirals, the way his post-nightmare fatigue has got him in a full blown panic.

Your soft voice pierces through the fog, like a beacon of light. He tries to focus, he tries to pull his head out of the water he's under.

With no other idea's you fall upon your only option.

“Simon.” You say for the first time, applying pressure to the hand on his chest, hoping to ground him.

“Simon, can you hear me?” You’ve never said his name before, only ever Lieutenant, Lt or some other lame nickname you and Soap come up with on the field. So you try it, hoping it doesn’t sound out of place, hoping you’d snap him out of wherever he was in his mind. You were familiar with the feeling.

The sound of his name ringing in his ears caught his attention. You’d never said it before, hell it had been a long time since anyone had. His breathing was starting to level out, the weight of your hand on his chest pulling him back to the ground from the ether.

His hand clasping your wrist, finger finding your pulse. Slowing his heart, now beating in tandem with yours.

You feel it, feel the sway of his chest slow, the thumps of his heart lessen.

You never in a million years imagined being in this position, your stoic shielded Lieutenant. Vulnerable in front of you.

“Are you okay? What happened?” You try after a beat, hoping he’s recovered enough to give you an answer.

His brain sobered, he felt out of place. But he didn’t want to let go of your wrist, he didn’t want your hand to leave his chest.

He didn’t know how to explain it, tell you that the fear of losing you had him so torn, ripped to shreds at every waking moment. It followed him in his slumber. So he went with the simplest answer.

“Nightmare.” He said softly, finally responding.

“You want to talk about it?” It was a far shot, knowing your Lieutenant. But you gave him the option anyway.

He mulled it over, he could tell you, but he felt perfectly content basking in your warmth.

He let out a breath, eyes darting to your lips, the cascading light from the hallway illuminating your face in the dark.

He yearned to pull you close, kiss you until you were engraved in his brain, promised to be alive and safe. He wanted to be selfish.

He wanted so many things but most of all, he wanted you.

And so he gave in, lips crashing into yours. He let himself be selfish, for once. Memorizing every detail, from the way you kissed back to the movements you made.

You felt tangible.

And although you’d never imagined your little crush on the Lieutenant to get you here, it wasn’t unwelcome.

[forecast0ctopus]

the perfect man doesnt exi–

[s0fter-sin]

vampire bats share mouthfuls of blood to other bats they’re close to if they weren’t able to feed and now i need old vampire!ghost sharing a bloody kiss with fledgling!soap, giving him mouthfuls of blood bc his fresh fangs are too sensitive to bite with

it’s been so long since he was turned that ghost’s forgotten the deep ache that comes with growing fangs and he almost worries when johnny goes to bite into the meal he’s brought him only to whimper and pull back; only the slightest pinpricks of a bite left in the man’s neck, barely enough to bring blood to the surface

it’s only when johnny whines and massages at his gums that ghost realises his oversight; crooning at his sweet mate in reassurance. he’s not upset that he couldn’t feed, at the unintentional rejection of his offering. he’ll make the pain stop

ghost pulls the man to his mouth and sinks in his fangs, sucking in a heavy mouthful and drops the now paralysed prey back to his feet; his throat steadily gushing with blood and spilling over his body

he cups johnny’s face, looking into his eyes, teary with pain and hunger, and purses his lips to carefully drip the blood into his mouth. the pain immediately vanishes from his eyes, replaced with pure bliss as he opens his mouth wide; curling his tongue to catch every drop. ghost presses his mouth to his in a hungry, blood-filled kiss; tongues twining together as they share the taste

johnny sucks the last of it from his lips and ghost guides him down to lap at the prey’s neck; licking up the blood he was too weak to draw himself. he’s ravenous with it, his whole face covered in red as he licks up the spill and suckles at ghost’s bite

ghost’s filled with an overwhelming pride at having provided for his mate in an even deeper way than just hunting for him. he spilled the blood johnny’s drinking; fed him in the most intimate way their kind knows and he’ll do it a hundred times over for his love

[chevs-and-spiders]

[natelia-aldelliz]

Cue Gaz and Price's horrified faces, that I sketched but didn't have the energy to actually draw (also, Ghost in the first panel is angry about Gaz calling Soap 'Johnny', how dare he)

Gaz : Oh my god bruv what did you do to your hair?? Ya know some strands are supposed to be the same length, right?

Price : Leave the poor man alone, he's already been ravaged by a vampire *snorts*

Gaz : True, lmao gotta chill there, Soap, but really though, how are ya cutting your hair, with kitchen scissors? Oh my god don't tell me you're using your knife

Ghost :

Gaz : You're using your knife, aren't you

Ghost : I mean, it's very sharp, it's basically a razor

(disclaimer that Gaz's opinions about Soap's hairstyle are not shared by the artist, i actually adore his little mohawk)

[blujayonthewing]

fighting for my life to Be Cool About It playing felix as a dnd character who has only known the party for one(1) egregiously shitty week rather than get carried away with romance subplots I'm inventing in my own head, as if simon getting Enthusiastic and visibly excited while talking a lot doesn't instinctively trigger, in felix, the exact same profound heart eyes reflex that justin doing so does for me in real life

[batcastlesociety]

simon belmont goes to his local mcdonald's (interaction based on literally every time i have to order anything from a restaurant)

please ignore my crooked handwriting,,, (Q_Q) text translations under the cut!

Simon: "Oh... oh sheesh..."

2. McDonald's Employee: "It's okay, sir! Take your time!"

3. (Simon wound up only purchasing some chicken nuggets.)

4. "10 Chicken McNuggets! FOOD GET!"

Simon: "terrifying..."

[breakthebeam]

.

[altruistic-meme]

hands - a young royals study 2/?

[ season 1, episode 1 ]

part 1 / part 2

[early-sxnsets]

*eyes shooting awake like a sleeper agent* ebb and nico were actually identical twins and ebb was transfem

[nero-neptune]

yeah, but to where???

[louismygf]

just recently watched this is us with my college friends

[thepunkmuppet]

tim bisley my beloved (but like in a transgender way)

[justfriendsbestthings]

I know Roshella was just my sapphic wilmon of a fever dream but haaaaaa :’)

[natelia-aldelliz]

Guys... Listen I know I said I'd draw something for valentine's day but I had a bit of a rough week sooooo I'm just going to write it out instead, maybe I'll finish drawing it some day, maybe not. It's behind a show more because it's long.

(also there's talks about having sex but no actual sex, and like, general warnings about Ghost's backstory but it's very vague here).

Soap was hanging around outside, trying to bring himself to do something, anything. But the weather was nice for a February day, and the sun was out, and it was making him feel like a cat basking in the heat.

An arm wrapped itself around his shoulders, a huge body suddenly weighing on him. Ghost.

Soap hummed comfortably. This day was getting better by the minute. Any chill he might have felt from being outside in a tank top out of pure Scottish spite was instantly soothed.

Simon often times saw himself as a cold man, freezing to the touch, hidden behind a layer of ice. A proper little Elsa, Soap almost snorted out loud. The truth was that while yes, his fingers and toes' temperature was sometimes abysmal, especially in bed, the rest of him was the warmest place Johnny had ever been.

"I've got something for you in our room," Ghost whispered against his throat, making Soap shiver.

Simon had begun calling Soap's room theirs a few weeks ago and Johnny couldn't have enough of it. He was so in love it genuinely hurt sometimes to restrain himself from squeezing him to death.

"Is that so?" he purrs, knowing how Ghost likes that. If this day didn't end in sex he'd be very surprised. He'd long learned to recognize when Simon wanted sex and when he didn't, and the way he squeezed his pec in response to his voice was a very easy tell.

But then again Simon was way less subtle than he thought he was.

They made their way back to their room, and there it was, a repurposed shoebox, badly wrapped with cheap wrapping paper. Johnny couldn't be more excited, he had never received any gift from a significant other. To be fair he adored gifting but always felt awkward receiving.

But this was Simon. Something that Simon had chosen to give him.

He sat on the bed, leaving enough space behind him for Ghost to sit there so he could use him as a very comfortable backrest. When he did, he grabbed the gift and began opening it.

He knew that Ghost liked to tear the wrapping paper, liked the sound of it and liked tearing it into the smallest pieces possible after, but he himself loved carefully unwrapping it and folding it flat so he could later maybe do an origami with it or put a piece in his journal. Probably both.

This one was full of tape but he still very much enjoyed himself, considered it a challenge. He enjoyed the chase, wanted to drag it on. Ghost huffed impatiently behind him, a bit tense, probably nervous.

Inside the box was a weird old fashioned clunky thing. It was bright red, looked slightly like binoculars, definitely from the 70's, with a wheel of tiny pictures wedged in the top of it. Memories hit him all at once.

"Oh my god ah remember, my Ma had one of these when ah was a child! My sister and I loved it, it had pretty landscapes in!"

He put it against his eyes, excited to see what this one came with. At his biggest surprise, it was a picture of them. Simon had customised it.

The picture showed the back of himself a bit further away from the camera, pointing at something while in full gear, in a dilapidated town, Ghost's face in the foreground looking at the camera. It looked like Soap was talking to someone, but that person was cut by the framing.

"Wait, ah remember that mission, it's when ah saved Gaz from a landmine just to be shot seconds later," he laughed. "ah spent two fucking weeks in the hospital, ah was miserable. Ye kept joking ah should hiv left Gaz explode while staring at him, he was convinced ye actually wanted him dead!"

Then the next picture was indeed him in his hospital bed, unconscious but the state of his injuries told him he was probably just sleeping at least a few days after his admission, his life no longer in danger. In this one, Ghost was sleeping too, head in his elbow near Soap's head and his other hand holding Soap's hand.

"Who took this one?" Soap asked, moved by the tenderness of Ghost's hold on him in the picture. It would have been right after Johnny had admitted to maybe liking him more than friends, before they were officially dating.

"The hospital one?"

Soap hummed.

"Price did. Said it was for blackmail. Should have seen him, he looked like his child had just married the person of their dreams and had ridden off into a rainbow on a unicorn or some shit. Old man's sentimental as fuck, but I didn't call him on his bullshit, he's already old, that's punishment enough."

Soap giggled in response. The next few pictures were all of them together but each time he was either turning his back or asleep.

"Why the fuck am ah never looking at the camera?" he whined. He wanted some cute couple pictures, dammit!

"Couldn't have you suspecting what I was planning," Simon said, kissing his shoulder soothingly. Only then Soap noticed that he had taken his mask off at some point and turned to ask for a proper kiss, which he immediately got.

"Keep going, there's more pictures," Simon whispered against his lips when he tried to turn around to kiss him some more. His pouting only got him a smirk in response, so he got comfortable again and brought the slide viewer back against his eyes.

He was happy he did. The next picture waiting for him was just Simon in the mirror, almost in full gear, but with one gloveless hand dragging his trousers down so the camera could see the bottom of his stomach, follow along his happy trail and reaching the very top of his pubic hair. The picture cut of his head, but he could see that his mouth was uncovered and he was holding the glove with his teeth.

Soap groaned. "Steaming Jesus, love, you're so hot."

He felt Simon hide his face in the back of his neck, warmer than usual, and chuckled a bit. He loved him so fucking much.

There were four more pictures of Simon, in various suggestive poses and states of undress, some almost showing his cock but never quite committing, making Johnny feel like he was being teased.

He was getting hard though and so ready to be done with the pictures and access the real thing. But Simon was still tense behind him. In fact, he had only gotten tenser and tenser with each click.

Soap was unsure why. They never had a problem with their sexual life, Simon had already changed his mind about having sex after starting and Soap had absolutely no problem with that, was glad to hug him instead and reassure him when he had tried to apologize.

Simon knew that there was no pressure, ever, to have sex. Hell, Johnny would still be happy even if Simon decided that he never wanted to have sex again, and he had made sure to make Simon understand that.

Then he got to the last picture and immediately understood.

It wasn't a picture of either of them, just a little bit of paper, with a few words written in Ghost's awful handwriting.

Just a few words that made Johnny drop the viewer on the covers and turn around to grab Simon's face, worriedly looking in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking for any trace of Simon forcing himself. "Baby, ah'm happy to bottom for the rest of mah life, there's no pressure, okay?"

Simon looked at him with warmth in his eyes and his cheeks completely red, a wrapping bow added on top of his head. "I know," he said simply. "I just want to. I don't want to be haunted by memories anymore. I used to like it, and I want to like it again. With you. Just.... Be gentle, okay?"

Johnny kissed his forehead. "Ah dinnae think ah ken how no tae be gentle with ye, love."