#awkward for John

[georgeharrisonsmiling]

[stevenrogered]

Perhaps they are enjoying themselves. But how will they know each other if they do not speak?

[ghcstao3]

bringing ghost home to a family gathering has soap worried only because there’ll be an abundance of niblings, and he has no idea how ghost is with kids.

and, well. it doesn’t necessarily go good or bad, more just… unexpectedly. soap notes a few things.

babies are a no-go for ghost. too small, too fragile, too sticky. those are something for someone else to deal with.

toddlers he can manage just fine, still too sticky. it’s funny, watching ghost talk to them like adults as he’s handed toys and forced to play pretend, sipping from an empty tea cup and mimicking biting into plastic food.

everything up to pre-teen is no sweat for ghost. they haven’t yet adopted the usual anti-adult teen attitude, so it’s easy enough to entertain them and answer questions because hey, ghost is knowledgeable, and he might as well share. he’ll let the kids ramble on about their interests and primary school drama, listening intently like he does whenever soap’s on a tangent.

as for the teens, soap isn’t surprised ghost gets along with them. for all his stoicism, the man is a terrible gossip, and he can certainly hold his own against (mostly) lighthearted insults with his quick wit any day of the week. those interactions are probably the most entertaining for soap, listening to ghost dole out advice to teenage girls as if he’s some guru in dumping boyfriends and dropping fake friends.

so, overall, safe to say that the niblings need not be of concern. adults on the other hand, well. that’s another story entirely.

[awkward-fink]

Finding them sleeping...

John Price

„John, dinner is ready.... John!” You stand at the foot of the stairs, one hand on the rail as you call for your husband upstairs. John had come home from a month-long mission just three days ago and he had done nothing but sleep and eat and lounge around, watching you, recharging his batteries. This morning, he had kissed your temple, one big hand palming the back of your neck lovingly the other grabbing the cheek of your ass possessively and had whispered into your ear, breath tickling the shell of your ear, that he would conquer the only foe living in this house. The one that hid away from open eyes and bred in the shadows, duplicating every time you turn around and become aware of the looming fight again.

Paperwork.

You hadn’t seen your noble knight and battler of paperwork since you brought him a small platter of snacks around midday, having concerned yourself with household chores and doing the dishes, going shopping (because that ravenous man had eaten you out of everything you had stored in the fridge, and even the cupboards).

So now, hours later, after not even hearing a peep from the man you call your husband, you decide to climb up the stairs again, to follow the old wooden hallway to the office right at the end, which’s door was slightly ajar.

“John? Are you alright? Did you hear me?” You speak up again, slowly pushing open the heavy oaken door, the angles creaking as you do. “John? Jo – oh.” You have to bite your lip as your eyes fall onto the big and burly man with slight greying hair at his temples.

John was still here, was still at his work desk. But that was where the picture you remembered from this midday differed from now. Instead of slightly leaning over the desk and rummaging through papers, one hand holding up his chin and head John was now entirely slumped over the surface of his desk, his hand still holding his pen while his other had dropped down, hidden from your sight. His cheek was smushed against the last paper he had worked on, ink stains in blue and red decorating his cheek and even the ridge of his nose. His eyes were firmly closed, his lips parted invitingly if not for the very small strand of drool at the edge of his mouth.

Your poor husband was asleep.

Dead asleep, like a stone, like the DEAD asleep. Just like the first three nights after you both came back from your two-week long honeymoon.

But you couldn’t leave him like that, his neck and back would surely be killing him tomorrow. So, you step closer, loudly, the floorboards creaking underneath your socked feet. (You had tried to touch him once, exactly once, when he was unaware and couldn’t hear you walking closer. He had been so sorry afterwards, coming back quick to himself, but he still had punched you hard and grabbed your arm to put you down. You knew your man, knew his work and the problems coming with it.)

“John… come one, hubby. Its me, wake up for me?” you murmur gently, slowly reaching out with your foot to tap his leg, poised to let jump back if you needed to. But it seemed as you didn’t, as your husbands’ eyes slowly opened, his nose crinkling. With a groan his body started to move, joints cracking and his muscles tense from sleeping in such a weird position.

“Love?” he muttered, his voice low and gravely from sleep, his eyes slowly focusing on you as he leans back in his chair. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing is wrong. I called you for dinner.” “Dinner? But you were just in to… Oh.”

You nod. “Yeah, you fell asleep. Maybe you should go to bed, hubby. You clearly need a bit more time to relax and sleep before you jump into the next fight again.” Instead of talking to you, he hums, a jaw breaking yawn following.

“Come to bed, Dinner is ready but its just in the oven to stay warm, it will be there later on.” “… come with me? Sleep better with you.”

“Always Love. Always.”

[captainswhore]

you see price sitting like this when you walk into a room post mission- and you know exactly what it is he needs.

he's licking at you and holding your thighs open with his rough palms- and you can't take it. his calluses and his beard and the fabric of his sleeves are rubbing at your legs just right- but not enough for you to lose focus on his hot tongue rubbing on you and in you and you've never been wetter in your LIFE.

his only problem? you're still moving too much. he can't reach where he wants to inside of you because you keep wiggling out of his way. his hands want to touch you everywhere- not just hold your thighs still. this is when he begins to squeeze at you everywhere, and tell you to rest your thighs on his shoulders.

"b-but price- hhnngh ohmygod- i c-can't. they're too big. thighs are too big"

you whine at the loss of contact, but then you look down and see him staring at you with massive pupils and a wet face. "lovie- my shoulders are broad for a reason. rest your thighs on em and i swear they'll have enough room"

and you listen, and you're crushing his ears with your thighs, and he's never been happier. the next time you look down? he's rutting into the mattress and you see his hips stutter when he groans into you and your vision goes white

(@chamomiletealeaf and i had SUCH A HORNY discussion about this and she told me to post it so here i am- and also omg photo creds to her. we've gotta reign it in lmfao)

[skeletood]

take my disgrub images

@dykestriders

[always-too-many-daisies]

03x04 The Second Stain aka The Waaaheeey episode

[mupparts]

Jade reunions!

[mouse-of-mischief]

You know what? I hope Sherlock & Co. goes mad with their version of Mycroft. I hope they just have the best time with him. I hope they look at the version of Mycroft played by Stephen Fry who wandered about naked in his home, my favourite on-screen Mycroft btw, and say "I'll do you one better". I hope they do the scene where Mycroft is first introduced by having him deduce things in a little game with Sherlock justice like the Granada series did. I hope they make him just as much as a little freak (affectionate) as Sherlock. I need more loveable weirdo Mycroft.

[tanked-up]

Ghost: I’m about to bust this window down-

Soap: How bout’ ye bust th-

*Ghost proceeds to push him soft enough yet causing Soap to stumble*

Soap: Woah…

Ghost: This is awkward

[jesncin]

That Golden boy arc killed me ouuuu so good

I'm not sure if you're referring to Hellblazer's Golden Boy arc that I recommended recently or you're referring to my Chimera Constantine comics but either way I'm happy for you!

[inky125]

"Er, sure... Okay, mister. All the best now"

[offkilterkeys]

Hello Homestuck nation. Old art abounding just for you.

When I was a kid (like two years ago) I’d predominantly post on Instagram, and it would specifically be on my stories because you could add music which I love to do. Kinstagram loves to crunch my images and frankly I’m glad.

[gardenwalrus]

I had an incredible conversation once with Paul McCartney. The difference between the way Lennon and McCartney behave with the people around them is incredible. Lennon sits down, immediately acknowledges the fact that he’s John Lennon and that everything for the rest of the night is going to revolve around him. He completely relaxes and lets everyone feel at ease and just speaks dribble little jokes, little rubbish like he’s got, In His Own Write and little things. Like he’ll start to dribble on and get stoned and do silly things and generally have a good time. Of course, everybody gets into his thing and also has a generally good time. But Paul McCartney worries, he wants a genuine conversation, a genuine relationship, starting off from square one: “We’ve both got to get it straight that we both know where we’re both at before we begin.” One of them is fucking Paul McCartney, a Beatle, the other is me, a huge monumental Beatle fan who still gets a kick out of sitting and talking to Paul McCartney. And he’s starting to tell me that he digs me and that we’re on an even par so that we can begin the conversation, which completely makes me even a bigger fan. That’s all it serves to do. The conversation comes to no purpose and all he serves to do is confuse himself. He’s trying to say, “Oh, you know, you know where you’re at, I know where I’m at, we’re both really just us and let’s talk.” So what do you say? “I’m a fantastic fan of yours, man.” He really tries to get it together often and you’ve got to relax.

- Pete Townshend interview with Jann Wenner in Rolling Stone (September 1968)

[tsarjozinzbazin]

Winged Jirv and Teefs Tozer is curing my scurvy ❤️❤️❤️❤️

IM TRYING TO KEEP YOU ALIVE SO HARD

[awkward-fink]

Sleep Positions with Them. (I)

Price: - He lays on his back, one arm around your body, holding you securely to his side in a gentle but firm hold. - only wears sleep shorts and his dogtags to bed. His thighs are too thick for normal sleeping pants and he gets way too warm in those anyway. Also he loves that he can feel your skin on his when you tangle your legs with his own. - loves when you are draped half over him, your fingers curled into his chest hair, one hand of his covering yours. One of his fingers is laying on your pulse point, feeling the steady thrumm while his thumb lazily traces over your knuckles. - he doesnt need a blanket. And you dont either. He is a living furnace, even in winter you are always cosy warm.

Ghost: - curled around you, holding onto you tightly. - always sleeps closest to the door, its instinct, dont question it. - on bad nights he will sleep on top of you, his head firmly positioned on top of your chest, ear firmly pressed against the spot where your heart beats underneath layers of skin and flesh. Its his most favorite lullaby. - would sleep in his tactical gear if you hadnt forbidden it, so he wears a long shirt and long sleeping pants to bed. - will wake when you move or twitch and check if everything is alright before falling back to sleep - forget going to the loo in the middle of the night alone. What if you fall? Or stub your toe? And he isnt there to protect you from the corner of the shower? No way. He is sleepily stumbling right after you, only alert enough to fall into bed after you and curl around you, again. - only needs a light blanket when sleeping with you, because you are clingy (as if he is not!). And needs a weighted blanket on nights when you are away on business.

Soap: - no fixed sleeping position. He starfishes, noodles around, and planks on the bed. All at once. Though, he never pushes you out of the bed, again. Once was one time too many and the *Look* you gave him after that scared him for life. - falls asleep with you in his arms as the big spoon. wakes up in a double spiral, flat salto mortale with you on top of him, his legs wrapped around you like a monkey. And no one knows where the blankets have gone to! - would sleep naked but you wont allow it, on every night. He starts with a boxershort and a shirt and wakes up with one article of clothing missing. - is a sleep kisser. Kisses your fingers, your shoulders, your chest and if he is lucky, your mouth in his sleep. Also cant get enough contact. - loves when you card your hands through his hair when he had a bad day, or a nightmare. Calms him down real quick. If you speak gaelic, he will literally start drooling in his sleep - all the blankets and then no blankets - nights with Soap are wild. In more ways than one.

Gaz: - has a strict routine before coming to bed - loves to have you at his side when falling asleep, your head on his shoulder and his nose buried in your hair. Its calming for him. - sleeps like the dead. Or a stone. Or a field of stones. You could play hardcore metal with screeching violins and that man will only twitch a finger. - *has* to have contact with you while sleeping. Doesnt matter if its a hand, a foot, a leg or even your head, NEEDS contact. If there is no contact, he will wiggle in the bed to search for you, and he will be asleep while doing that - has a whoe ass pyjama, which looks like a suite or at least fitting together like those checkered Ones made out of cotton. Filthily comfy and wont let you burrow them. - Needs at least two blankets and you to rest in comfort. - Listen! Has the most wild dreams and will talk to you in his sleep, wont remember anything in the morning though

Bonus! Roach: - loves to sleep with you in the bed - has a blanket only for you, and a pillow and even wants you to sleep in his shirt. - you understand, that he can fall asleep better if he can have something smelling of you, when you are not with him - loves to curl his fingers around yours, watching you sleep, your legs tangled and your foreheads touching. - lazily signs one handed against the palm of your hand, silly little things, his feelings, sweet nothings, just wants to feel you. - has the best sleep when your breaths mingle, your hands intertwined, his leg hooked around yours. - loves to wake up and the first thing he sees is you. (has literal heart eyes!) - has one oversized blanket for you both to share - loves to kiss you lazily, lips just brushing over yours chastely until you both fall asleep. Holds one of your hands to his heart if he can get away with it - wears a very ol shirt and some old shorts to bed