#girl.asks

[girl-lostconnection]

I want to sit in ghosts lap and rub our cheeks and noses together while he coos in my ear. Just me??!?

You are so real for that, anon. Because same.

Getting to sit in Ghost’s lap, his nose pressing into your cheeks, palms sliding under the shirt and just softly groping, getting a handful of you that he can grip.

The feeling of you in his hands that he can anchor himself on. He’d be so sweet too, rumbling voice and eyes so soft you can feel yourself melting into nothing. I read from one creator (can’t remember their name for the life of me, if someone knows who I’m talking about — let me know) that Ghost is very much of a nuzzler, because he takes his mask off so rarely.

But also I feel like even later down the road when he pulls his mask off and feels comfortable enough to show his face to you, he very much would rub his cheek on yours, grinning when you complain about the stubble scratching you.

He is a lot like a big affectionate cat when he finally manages to relax, I can guarantee you that he rubs his nose on you and there is nothing in that big hypervigilant head of his. Not a single thought.

He’s so engrossed in the moment, he just lets himself wrap himself around you and rub his cheek and nose all over yours, all over your neck and shoulders. Going as far as at some point tugging your shirt off because you can’t convince me that this man won’t be a sucker for skin to skin.

[girl-dot-tzt]

Thoughts on Bottoms who have a Biting Fixation? Like biting and chewing just feels really good to m- them.

Like, just as an example, If I bit you while you were fucking me or something, what would you do to me. Just like Hypothetically.

Bites are so cute! I love overstimming someone with my strap and a wand vibe until they can't do anything but cry and bite my arm to try to take their mind off the pleasure :3

I wouldn't "do" anything but pick up the pace to make you feel even better 😌

[girl-dot-tzt]

It's OK gorgeous ❤️, I'll take great care of you and snap tons of pictures of you completely fucked out of your mind.

Have you got face lock on your phone? It doesn't really matter if not I'll just edge you until you can't help but tell me your passcode, then I'll post all those pics for all these hungry lil pups to see.

I bet that if they knew how much of a slut their owner is they'd gang up on her and keep her as a toy to get off on.

We're wrastlin and I'm going to kick your ass, got a preference for the color of the collar I put you in?

Ma’am I don’t post sub content, which one of these rats told you I’m very into this. I was 6ft and relatively strong but estrogen has melted my bones and muscles and also I physically can’t have my hair pulled, too fem to handle it. Whatever you do just please not infront of the puppy subs, we have a good thing going and my reaction to this will tarnage my image

[nejiiki]

WAIT U SPEAK CHINESE???? VGGFRETFIJJG

YEAHH !!!

SECOND LANGUAGE, WORST SUBJECT 😎

[girl-lostconnection]

The vision....Hybrid!Price paired with a Siren!Reader, mostly chubby/curvy reader but that's up if you want to do or not. Bye, Girly!

Anon, you are cooking smth around here. Let me bite into this little snack you brought us. Also you didn’t specify which hybrid so I decided for both of us.

Imagine Wolf!John Price — big man as he is, arms thick and corded with muscle he earned over the years worth of work.

John meets you out on the job somewhere around Mediterranean, your teeth sharp, your smile wide and god, you are so soft. He could die in your arms and it would be the happiest moment of his life.

John keeps tabs on you, traitorous fucking tail wagging like a mad thing it is when you swim — you are still in the water whenever he’s around, never coming close enough for him to touch.

Like you just know he won’t let go. Like you know he’s hungry and sweetheart, he’s been out in the field a long time, he’s ready to retire.

He’s ready to settle down and the fact that you appear at this exact time makes some wires in his head cross, his lungs filling with air when he tries to catch your scent.

You are salty, child of the seas, favourite baby of the oceans — scales shining in the morning sun. John watches you as much as he can, cigar in his mouth, forearms braced over the porch railing.

His wolf is restless, tail wagging with the force enough to make his hips sway from side to side and this is bloody embarrassing, he hasn’t been this eager since he was a teenager.

John watches you, licking salt off his lips, eyes half lidded and heavy and you are the prettiest little siren.

His teeth itch to bite into the softness of your bottom to get a surprised yelp out of you, to get you to squirm and hiss at him, his little fish finally out of the water.

John breathes out smoke, eyes lazily sliding down your body when you finally come out of the water, low pleased rumble in his chest at the face of contentment you wear.

A satisfied mate is a happy mate.

Now he’s just got to find a way to show you how much of a good provider he is. John’s wolf grumbles, his tail wagging harder and you smile at him wide enough to make his pupils blow wider. John licks his lips again, rasps out “goin’ somewhere, sweetheart?”.

John dreams of biting down a mating claim on your round shoulder, John aches to wrap you in his arms and keep you warm, keep you soft, keep you his.

“Pretty little fish”, he murmurs when you don’t shake his hand off as he wraps it around your wrist.

That’s your first mistake.

“So soft, could drown in you like sea drowns fools”, he breathes out, teeth grazing your throat, tail wagging harder when you melt into him, when you don’t push him away, when you slide his hands down to your hips.

John is no fool. He’s not going to drown.

You giggle when his breath and beard tickles your neck, his kisses hot and sharp, canines grazing thin skin on your collarbones and chest.

John all but rumbles with pleasure, fingers sinking into the meat of your thighs, hoisting you up, like it’s nothing and for him — it is nothing.

John kisses your cheek, presses himself into you as hard as he can, groaning at the feel of your thighs squeezing his sides. God, he’s never letting you out of the bed. Not until you smell like him.

Not until his bites bloom all over your body — visible tangible mark for everyone to see. It’s his pretty siren. He’s not going to share.

He grows in your neck again and grins when you laugh, trying to push him out of it.

He’s gonna make you very very happy.

You know what they say, love, cheerful mate makes blissful fate.

[girl-lostconnection]

been thinking about the punk x nerd au w simon and ohhhhh my godddddddddd

what if he begins running and working out during highschool and he fills out and discovers himself a bit more — and is significantly more attractive — and nerd!reader is all over ittt, and they actually start to like each other and they get closer.

what if he also goes into the military in this au, after they’ve both graduated and she’s devastated — losing her bsf like that, but they see each other later in life when he’s on leave and she’s elated and confused because that can’t be him, right? not her simon? and whose scarf is that, barely peaking out of the collar of his jacket on this cold manchester day?

hmmm just what’s been stewing in my brain!

Anon, imma be honest, its like you know something that I don’t and I’m all here for it cause reader just watching as this awkward angry teen turns into bloody behemoth of a man…damn, anon. Give me 14 of these right now. Also I’ll write about second part of your ask since it’s a little further away in the future.

THANK YOU for this opportunity to talk about Unsweetened Lemonade AU Ghost coming home from military🌟

The Soldier

Warnings: plus size gn!reader, Simon is hungry for more than just food, fluff, slight suggestive themes

Simon comes back home and it’s like nothing changed at all (like he’s still 17) — same rooftops and same streets and same tight feeling in his chest — the remnant of the war he was going through even before enlisting.

It still stings sometimes, deep inside of him, barbed wire on the inside of his jawline.

Sometimes it still aches, but Simon is no longer lanky and awkward with sharp angles and no coordination and a whole lot of rage.

Simon goes into military and comes on the other side almost twice heavier than he was before. (Twice as dangerous, twice as deadly)

The bulk of muscle and a nice level of fat born from regular training and regular meals finally shows how much sense his long limbs and towering height make.

He doesn’t regret the decision one bit, for the most part. (He only regrets he couldn’t sneak you into the base as his emotional support person)

You write to him and he gobbles up your every letter with the same hunger he finished every bite you brought him back in highschool, with the same hunger he held onto you before leaving after enlistment.

Simon reads these letters again and again until the new one comes.

He gets dropped off in the neighbourhood where you live (mates laugh and smack his shoulder, joking about lad or lass that’s gonna be happy to see him, joking that he needs to bring the pretty thing around because they’ve been dying to know who are you).

The duffel bag is slinged over his shoulder, your scarf still wrapped around his neck and anticipation coiling in his belly.

It’s been a minute since you saw each other.

Since he saw you, since he could wrap himself in your warmth, nuzzle his face in the soft pudge of your tummy (god, he missed it so badly sometimes it felt like physical aching).

Simon has been hungry for more than your meals.

He shifts his weight from one leg to another, trying to warm up as he fumbles with the written address on the scrap of paper. It shouldn’t be far from where he is right now. Just a few minutes and then he’s home.

Just a few minutes and he’s gonna see you again.

Meanwhile you don’t really expect any visitors, flat is a bit of a hot mess in Simon’s old T-shirt, cookies baking in the oven — utensils all over kitchen table.

Simon wrote that he’s getting off on leave in a few days or so and you are stress cooking because god knows he always ate a lot and you don’t know how well he ate in military.

So you decide that’s better safe and sorry and start getting ready two days before he’s even supposed to be back in Manchester.

Imagine your surprise when someone knocks on your door — three short knocks, sound crisp clear when you freeze looking through the peephole because what the hell.

On your doorstep there is a mountain of a man, for the lack of better word, you frankly can’t even see his face since he stands too close to the door — black sweater and awfully familiar scarf peeking out of the collar of his jacket.

And you are so baffled you almost miss the familiar “Luv, open up, ‘ts me” from the man on your doorstep and maybe he’s got the wrong address and looking for someone else.

But you don’t manage to finish the thought before your body moves on its own and swings the door open.

Jesus Christ.

He’s even bigger when you are face to face with him, the need to crane your neck just to see dark eyes with adorably blond eyelashes certainly doesn’t help with how astounded you are.

“Can I help you?”, you aren’t sure what is going on or who is that but then the man scoffs in even more familiar way, pulling the scarf down and oh my god. It’s Simon. This is your Simon.

“Forgo’ me so quickly?”, he’d sound annoyed if he wasn’t so happy to see you, brown eyes soft with adoration. And before you can answer he’s taking a step inside your flat, closing the door behind him. It’s cold outside after all, surely you wouldn’t leave him out in the cold.

“Though’ I was special”, the rumble of his voice kicks the air out of you, eyes wide and face heating up quickly because Jesus Christ, he’s big.

Thighs thick and hips meaty, legs looking like he could crush your skull if he wanted to (lord have mercy, don’t think about it, no, you must stay focused).

He’s big and he smells good (why the hell he smells so good, it should be illegal, you will look like absolute creep sniffing him) and he’s looking at you like he can’t get enough of you. Like this reunion is even better than what he imagined.

God, you just might need to crawl into the freezer and sit there for a minute because you are too hot and he’s so fucking hot, what the hell, who is this man and what did they fucking feed him in military???

“Simon”, the first time is more of an exhale but then he nods, shaking his jacket off, duffel bag hitting the floor with dull thump and in the next moment you are all over him.

“Simon”, your hands wrapping around him (you are NOT gonna think that your two hands are not enough to close around his midriff) and face pressing to his chest — pectoral muscles cushioning against your cheek.

Oh, this is bliss. This is so good you just might forget about anything else.

You now know where you’d like to be buried.

In this man chest, please.

And Simon can’t help but hum, the sound low and pleased — his hands hoisting you up so he can get a grip on your thighs, fingers sinking into the meat of them and bloody hell, this is good.

This is fucking lovely.

He’d love to have his head between these thighs of yours.

As a matter of fact, could you maybe suffocate him with them so he can die happy (and hard as a rock)? Please?

But it can wait a little because you are finally in his hands, your arms wrapped now around his shoulders, eyes shining with absolute joy — looking at him like he’s everything. Like you are happy. Like you’ve been waiting for him.

He’s here. Simon is home.

Simon nuzzles his nose into your cheek, teeth itching to sink into the softness of it, itching to take a bite, itching to lick the blood off—

Ghost hoists you up a little higher because there’s no need for you to feel just how happy he is to see you. Not yet, at least.

“Yeah, luv, told ye, it’s me”, he murmurs, practically vibrating with satisfaction when your grip on him tightens.

Yeah, that’s right, don’t let go of him. Sink yourself into him just as he wants into you, taste the blood from his veins — it’s all yours anyway, he’s all yours.

Always been.

It takes him a few minutes to actually let you down, body immediately aching for the warmth and softness he’s been missing so badly.

But he can smell that you’ve been cooking something and if it’s okay with you he’s willing to sate his hunger with something more traditional.

Simon eats and keeps a close eye on you eating (can’t have you go hungry on him), passing the best bites back, pressing them against your lips — eyes half-lidded and heavy when your tongue accidentally flicks against the pads of his fingers.

Simon leaves the kitchen only when you both are full and sated, the button on his jeans popped open because well, maybe he was hungry for your meals too.

Can you really blame him? He’s been away so long, he just needs to catch up on everything he missed.

Simon pulls you onto the couch to tuck in to his side, mumbles something about “afternoon nap, luv”.

He is a lot like sated predator, all lazy grace and heavy bulk and heat rolling off in waves. Simon nuzzles his big head into your neck, palms holding onto the small of your back and your thigh, splayed over them possessively. Holding you close.

He’s out cold in the matter of minutes, finally relaxed and full and so warm. Finally with you. Not going anywhere, not leaving the side of his lovely sweetheart.

All yours, you just got to let him stay and protect you.

Just let him stay and love you, devour you, keep you warm and soft and round with happiness.

Just let him and he’s going to make sure you never regret it.

[girl-lostconnection]

Omg, ghost from unsweetened au who refuses to leave your side when you’re together 😞😞

Cooks for you, cleans for you, goes out with you and is always text to you, sigh..

Saw this video on TikTok sometime ago and that’s literally him.

Yes-yes-yes! Especially if we are talking about Ghost from the time skip (aka military-polished Ghost) when he has already settled into the rhythm of having you and he kinda clicked you in his life and himself into yours like puzzle pieces.

Ghost, who hovers nearby when you cook, insists on washing the dishes himself and REFUSES to sleep or even nap without you because “tha’s just better, luv”.

He comes home on leave and doesn’t fucking go out until you do because why would he??? He already was out more than enough while deployed — he slept in some uncomfortable places, most of which didn’t have proper mattress, he’s been wet and cold, he’s been too hot and sweaty as a bloody dog, he’s been uncomfortable.

So when he’s home? Baby, he’s not going ANYWHERE. As a matter of fact, he holes up in your flat/house/whatever with you and relishes in how comfortable everything is.

How soft you are, how good and tasty food is, how warm the blankets are and how fucking decadent a proper mattress on your bed feels (bought specifically with his back aches in mind (this man is big and heavy, I just know his lower back gives him hell sometimes)).

Simon is basically joined to you at the hip and doesn’t see anything wrong with it — always touching you, always trying to press his big fucking head in the crook of your neck, at the back of it, in your stomach and lap.

Simon who loves just listening to you, loves having you close, loves knowing that this space — it’s only for you two. It’s safe, it’s warm, it’s comfortable.

Many things there were made with his height or issues in mind and many things bear the mark of you buying them for yourself and later sharing with him.

I honestly believe that in his case, sharing and having things bought for him specifically is a love language. When you grow up without much, lacking a lot of emotional support and comforts, lacking basic comforts and necessities it can later in life make you a bit extreme (eating too much, hoarding things, being touchy about sharing, being generally territorial).

And for him it means so much that you buy things for him or cook for him — care for him in general. And I feel like after knowing you for so long he’s at his most comfortable with you because he knows you won’t take something away from him, he knows on subconscious level that you are safe.

Also if we are talking about Ghost before the timeskip this lad isn’t going ANYWHERE unless he absolutely has to. Like you are at school? Already waiting for you, already draping his arm over your shoulders and herding you inside like he’s a guard dog.

Library? He’s there, one of your headphones in his ear, his hand draped over the back of your chair, his side pressed into you.

Coffee/book shops? He is just a step behind you, a little awkward and a little out of place with his spiked leather jackets and massive height and very obvious nervousness, but he’s there while you are browsing books. He’d probably get startled by loud noises and the first instinct he has is to cover you (oh, I’m gonna start crying just thinking about it) with his body. It’s something he does without even thinking— protective instinct that was previously only spread to Tommy.

Any afterschool activities? He’s walking you TO and FROM them, huffing out air and rolling his eyes when you tell him that he doesn’t have to do that. Like hell, he’d pass on the opportunity to be near you.

Visiting your home? He’s a big awkward lad and he feels very out of place, at least at first but it gets easier with time and with you. And I feel like he’d be impossibly pleased to see you in something cozy and soft even if that’s just sweatpants and T-shirt. Makes inner mutt inside of him nod in satisfaction that you are warm and comfortable (uses it as a chance to nuzzle into you again).

He’d probably be glued to you no matter what you do around the house, chest pressed to your back if you need to do stuff standing, hand wrapped around yours if you have to move. Physical contact is not really something he’s used to and now that he finally has access to it, it’s like he can’t get enough.

Sleepovers? Again, he’s very satisfied with seeing you warm and happy, all cozy in your home clothing and your blanket is soft and you are soft and honestly, he’d feel like he’s in heaven. I feel like he’d be a big fan of sleeping on your chest or just wrapped around you as a big spoon, face pressed to your neck (his favourite spot).

[girl-lostconnection]

unsweetened lemonade anon here again! (my anon tag can be 🍓, if you do those!) i just have so many ideas!! sorry for spamming you 😣

like they start dating at the beginning of their senior year (or the british equivalent ?) and everyone is like… “wot.” because they’re used to these two being so small, defensive and awkward. but nerd!reader has grown into herself and starts recycling her clothes to make them nicer, and punk!simon is working at a macca’s part time and making a bit of money, and he starts thrifting for himself and finding her secondhand jewelry. omg you’ve actually created a monster with this AU (me.)

AGHHHH they’re like two mangy dogs finally getting adopted and bathed and taken care of 🥹 and nerd!reader writes her own book and the first page says

“to that boy from school. i wish you well.” and simon keeps that damn book with him always. omg i’m so sorry but it’s so cute to meeeee

Sure thing, 🍓 anon! And don’t apologise, im so happy to talk about these two and you just give me another opportunity to do so. So feel free to hop on and share whatever comes to your head.

Also

Anon, what have you done. What have you done, anon, im tearing up at these two. And the book???? Stop, im gonna full on cry.

God, the way Simon would TREASURE it. The way he’d hold onto it, bringing it with him everywhere and reading it and keeping it as close to himself as possible.

But if we push my tears aside for one sec, imagine tall awkwardly wide and lanky Simon bringing Nerd!Reader second hand jewellery like he’s bringing them the game from his hunt.

The way he’d loom close by the first time he does buy them something because it’s really nothing special and he found it at the tiny thrift store and it’s just a small thing. Nothing flashy or expensive, probably a bracelet with charms he thought would look nicely on them.

(He’s too embarrassed to buy them a ring because he’s definitely gonna think too much about it and end up making them a weird proposal. He then would proceed to crawl away and roll under his bed, asking the ground to swallow him (im sorry))

And Simon who’s working as a butcher apprentice and finally starts eating a little bit better because his boss sees the way this big lad comes into work and everyone in the neighbourhood know of Simon’s dad so he just starts writing off some things here and there.

Nothing much because Simon is prideful and allergic to anyone taking pity on him and he would rather starve, but here it seems harmless and it’s just small things here and there. So he takes them and he proudly brings them to Reader the first time it happens.

The same way dogs/cats would bring you a small animal they caught, literally smirking with how satisfied he is. It doesn’t dawn on him until they ask that…he has no idea what to do with it. Simon doesn’t know how to cook meat — his mom usually did it. But with the way Riley-senior looms around the house he doesn’t want to bring it home.

So Reader offers to cook it at their place and later just packs it up carefully in neat containers and gives Simon the bag to bring it home to his mom and Tommy. So they can all eat without Simon’s dad finding out about the meat.

God, im gonna go spin in my chair and come back with something more coherent.

Wait for me, anon, im gonna bring you something decent, you brought me such good idea seeds I could grow fanfic sequoia in three days with it.

[girl-lostconnection]

can we get some graves kissing fluff :( how does he like to kiss?

Sure thing, anon! I didn’t write for him for some time so I’m glad you are asking

Graves’s kisses wary, depending on circumstances and how much time he has, but overall he is the man that loves kissing.

Especially if he’s kissing you.

He presses lips to your temple after a long day, murmurs “hey there, beautiful” and wraps himself around you.

He kisses your forehead or cheek when he hurries out — lips pressing for just a second, hastily throwing “gotta go, darlin’, be good” above his shoulder as his one foot is already out the door.

He trails his lips down your neck and peppers your shoulders with kisses when he has time to really savour it, practically purrs with satisfaction because god, this is nice, that’s what life is all about, you know?

I think the traditional upbringing in him would be thrilled at the thought of kissing your cheeks and jaw, showing off his affections to his pretty spouse, grin a little too wide when you smile at him.

He shows you off a little, a bit of silent claim for anyone who had been looking at you a little too long, his lips curling against your cheek in a wider green, breathing out “lookin’ good, darlin’, let’s go before someone tries to steal you away. I can feel 647 men already droolin’.”.

But it’s actual kisses that Graves would savour, pressing his lips to yours, diving into the kiss like he’s submerging himself into the lake, knowing full well it’s too deep for him to feel the bottom.

He wants to feel lightheaded and little lost when he pulls away. He wants to forget about the world and lose train of any thought he had before because this moment when he kisses you — it’s something only for you two. No one else. Nothing else.

Graves kisses like every one of his kisses is delectable little thing and he just needs to feel every damn shade of the colours that burst inside of him when he kisses you. Tugging your lower lip with his lips, probing your mouth open.

He’d be drinking in every sound and expression, breaking kisses just to kiss you again. And again and again.

I think he’s a person who really could spend significant amount of time just kissing, letting his lips trail lower sometimes — murmuring soft sweet nothings in your neck and collarbones before returning to your mouth.

Who’d knew that a man like him kisses so sweetly.

[girl-lostconnection]

MasterList

Requests are open!

COD:

Important notice: most AUs here have their own tag and you can find almost everything related to it by clicking on it. But most things are already in the masterlist

• TaskForce 141

• Ghost -> Ghoap

• Kyle

• Graves

• König

• Price

• Soap -> Ghoap

Anon tags:

🍓 anon

[girl-lostconnection]

YOU ARE MAGIC LOVE NEVER FORGET THAT 🥹🥹🥹 WTFFF that was actually so soft and I’m crying salty tears heeeelpp!! that was amazing !! gonna make a little something in return for you 😚:

i used second person — might be strange?

he comes back from his first deployment — where he was unluckily shot in the thigh — and by some miracle, he manages enough strength to wobble off that bus as you stand on the sidewalk. he’s got crutches and for some reason no one’s helping him with his duffel bag and that sight alone is soul-crushing. you rush to him, angry and confused, grabbing his bag and forcing him to sit on the curb.

“simon riley! what the hell happened to you?” he has never seen you this angry, but the way you’ve got your hands on your hips is causing some tightness in his jeans. he wishes you were this type of spitfire back then.

“got shot, luv, won’t ‘appen again,” he chuckles roughly, as if you’d just asked him the weather.

“simon edward (i hc this as his middle name cause it’s so funny sorry) riley. you’ve just told me you’ve been shot and im not meant to worry six ways to sunday?!” you’re appalled, aghast even. “i let you go off for six months, maybe! and you’ve gotten yourself into a mess. bloody christ!” you speak as if you’re allowing him to breathe, and as if everything he does, he does in your name — and god, why does he love it? “nonsense.” and the whole way home — because you are his home, no matter the place — you’re grumbling about how he’s going to cripple himself before he’s 35 and he’s just snickering.

because regardless of his injuries, and his countless therapy (physical or otherwise) appointments that you’ll drive him to, you will always be proud to call him your soldier.

and your third book begins with:

“to my soldier. stay home and read more books, please. you can’t leave me here.”

Anon, I’m gonna cry that’s so cute. Thank you so much for writing this!!

Also it’s all right, I got your second message, I’m gonna tag this one as one of your asks.

But also…anon, I’m giving you a big smooch on your bright beautiful head — this is beyond sweet🥹 Your writing is great and it makes me feel so warm and soft, I can’tttttt

And I love how your Reader just keeps popping out books (our productive queen) and giving hell to this big man when he doesn’t take proper care of himself because how dare he get shot (I know right???).

The way Simon is like “won’t be happening again” CAN YOU GUARANTEE THAT BIG MAN, I love that part, you cooked there some very good very canonical Simon Riley

And no one helping Simon with his duffel bag? Anon, stopppp, the way Reader would snatch the thing off his shoulder — he’d be unsure whether or not it was there in the first place at all. And I love that that’s exactly the vibes I was going for in their timeskip because he’s simply home whenever he’s with Reader.

They are his home. He comes back to them and suddenly everything is lighter and better and he smiles more and he’s happier version of himself (my baby🥹)

[girl-lostconnection]

for the acceleration au! i was wondering, maybe reader could get fed up of the situation and the fact that suddenly there’s a third in the equation and she hates it, especially since ghost and soap seem to be so affectionate with each other and so normal about it; so somehow she gets closer to a colleague of hers, feeling alone and confused, and finds comfort in his presence. then they kith and ghost realizes that maybe he actually wants to spend his whole life with her, and that bringing another guy to their home was a dick move. i know it’s a lot but yeah🥸

You know, anon, you aren’t that far away from how approximately it was supposed to go initially. But I think considering that I kinda…remade Soap’s psychological portrait while writing the second part we can take a slightly different course.

I feel like the only person who’s normal about everything is Simon. For now. Because he hasn’t been caught yet but the metaphorical stone that will get thrown in his face is coming.

It’s approaching rapidly.

I just don’t know yet how to properly throw it. I have a shit aim

[girl-lostconnection]

YESSS I SO AGREE!! omggggg she’s such a productive queen. and after she finishes her trilogy, mailing a signed copy to her man, duh, she’s already working on her fourth. but this one is a standalone, i think. “the diaries of the soldier’s lover,” she titles this one. and she writes about how simon essentially saved her from losing her mind in year 10 and how she wishes she could be like a little angel on his shoulder, following him always. she names herself his guardian angel and thanks him deeply for the love that he has helped to grow, like a rose blooming with no thorns.

and she mails him a copy of this, too. and i like to think that for her first trilogy (some fantasy story she conjured) she used a pseudonym. but this one has her name written all over it. because she’s just so proud of him!! and she’s signed his copy, with big frilly letters and a heartwarming message.

price is like, “damn, simon, gettin’ a lot of mail lately, aye?” whenever simon comes to get his weekly mail from price’s office, and simon is too choked up to even say anything. did a tear just stain the page? no, surely it’s raining in here. or the ceiling is leaking! surely.

he reads this book like his gospel, and he’s sure that with this one, the book that he inspired, she’s touched the hearts of many wives out there. his wife is a famous author. all things that will be true within due time.

he writes her a letter, a simple diamond ring tapped haphazardly inside the envelope. “does it count if i ask you to marry me through parcel?” he writes, messy scrawl and silly little arrows and correction markings.

she cries, too. and yes, of course it counts, you oaf. she wears that ring everywhere. her husband is a lieutenant, she finds out in his next letter. he is a leader. and a damn good one.

she wears this ring even after price has shown up at her door, metal necklaces dangling from his fingers and his boonie hat long forgotten — his head bowed in shame.

AGHHGGHHH this au is eating at my brain and im not even mad i dont even caaaaare, they’re so precious and broken and they fit together. and im so sorry for the angst it just kinda happened…… 😣

— 🍓

NO YOU DIDNT. NO ANON HOW COULD YOU, YOU KILLED SIMON OMG.

In all seriousness that’s a damn good idea, anon, you should actually write it out, it’s sweet and it sounds really nice and it’s so so warm.

God, I almost cried on the part with him typing in a ring and asking her hand in marriage, god, of course Reader would marry him, how could she not. God, actually, step aside Reader I’m gonna marry this man. Oh my god.

And Price showing at her doorstep with Simon’s dogtags because it’s not the first soldier he’s buried but damn, if this wasn’t a special one. And I’d imagine your Reader wearing his dogtags until the day she dies, talking about him like he’s still alive.

She’d probably say things along the lines of “Yeah, my husband is really proud of this one, thank you so much” or “Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m not available. I’m married” and people always get a little worried when they find out Simon is no longer alive.

Because she keeps on living and she still talks about him like he’s there. And maybe for her he really is. Maybe that’s the way she keeps herself tethered to reality, joining the support club and writing another book — talking to the spouses of other military personnel through them. Sharing their pain, extending her hand through the pages and kind of saying “hey, I feel it too. I know your pain. You aren’t alone. I’m here”.

And she never judges other spouses for their ways of coping because hey, she gets that. She knows how it feels to choke on tears when the love of your life is lowered into the ground.

She knows how it feels to write to someone who can never answer, she knows how it feels to turn to talk to someone who’s not there anymore, how it feels to forget sometimes that hey, he’s dead.

Someone once wrote that when their spouse died they felt so shocked and overwhelmed that their first subconscious instinct was to call the said spouse and share news with them. Their first instinct was to go for comfort to the person they lost.

That’s how (i think) your Reader would feel in lieu of Simon’s death.

Luckily for the rest of you, who aren’t me and strawberry anon, im not gonna kill Simon. I have fragile heart, I wouldn’t do that to you, guys *pats your backs* death is too finite for me.

And I like to get real creative with suffering (damn that sounded ominous)

[girl-lostconnection]

ur response to my ask about unsweetened lemonade was sooo goooddd 🥳

her shock just seeing him easily taking up the entire doorframe is so funny and so very real. because she’s known him as this little lanky baby with a crooked nose and barred teeth, but now he is just simon. only barring teeth at work and he’s all soft edges with her 🥹

so sweet tbh

#obsessed-with-unsweetened-lemonade

Anon, your ask was so good I wrote the entire one-shot on the basis of it. Thank you for providing cause you honestly fed us that evening. (And you ATE with that idea you brought)

Also YES. I think he wasn’t small before army, he was just underfed and awkward (like all teenagers) and I headcanon Simon as late bloomer so (in my head) it definitely took him a couple years to actually come into his body and the size he was meant to have.

And it’s so funny to me because earlier chapters the Reader is like “ugh, this feral lad again” and in time skip they are like “Simon🥹you are home✨”. That’s what love does to people.

And I love-love-love the way older Simon is less sharp. Like he’s not a loose cannon anymore and he kind of more confident in the way he looks and handles himself and he is just big and heavy and warm presence.

I love him both in earlier chapters and in time skip but god, him getting bigger as a metaphor for him getting better…oh my god, my Sheila😭

[girl-lostconnection]

Hi just read your graves fluff (it was amazing) and wonder if i can ask something, so there's some polarity about graves in the fandom and it's not easy to find people who observe him well as he's generally assumed to be unreliable to a partner but I always thought there was a sweet side of him so I wonder how you managed to observe him to write fluff this good about him, like what about him generally convinced you that he'd care and be reliable to a partner, what are his green flags to you?

personally i find him to be very considerate of his shadows but maybe that's not enough (I've also not played mw2/mw3), so I wondered where your observations come from

sorryyy if it's a silly question :v

Not silly at all, anon! Don’t worry, I honestly love getting questions like that — it’s a real pleasure to interact with you guys (and have a chance to talk more about the one and only. The bastard (I love him))

I did see that he’s generally perceived as kind of sleazy subject at best and I get where it comes from considering that in games we play on the side of kind of “good guys” and when Graves betrays them, he naturally betrays us and we from then on have to play against him and his Shadows.

But also for some reason I really liked him, despite the you know, betrayal and stuff. And I was thinking about him from perspective outside of what game gave us about him.

And yeah, he’s not a good guy. He’s a mercenary, probably the mercenary of United States. But he also exists outside of this, if you know what I mean.

I read a little about him and I read some stuff about him on here, and while I can appreciate a good story about him being menace, it didn’t feel enough for me personally.

I mean, he definitely is a menace, I just thought there is more to him (I discussed some of it with anon who asked about astrological aspects of Graves). So from what we know from canon is that Phillips is smart as hell, he’s incredibly resourceful, he has a huge amount of experience as operator, he is not just good operator but a good leader, who is a CEO of his mercenary company. On his Wiki page we can read that he handpicked the most talented of his guys, so we know that he’s meticulous and really responsible because we also know that mostly those who were the best (creme of the crop if you wish) in military get to be employed by him.

But yeah, I also really enjoyed his interactions with the Shadows and the way these men actually put their trust into him. And we could observe that he does in fact gives a damn about them and he doesn’t feel about them as if they were kind of puppets he places on the board and then sweeps away when they are useless.

These are his men and his company and his damn job. I honestly believe he’d treat his partner the same way with the same sense of responsibility and general care because they are his. That’s his partner, that’s his spouse, that’s his love.

And while his moral compass point somewhere in the direction of hell I do believe that there’s more to him than being just The Bastard.

And you know, I collected the breadcrumbs here and there and it kind of all came together in more or less solid headcanon of how I see him

Also I’m so happy you liked the fluff headcanons! Thanks for reading them

[girl-lostconnection]

this might sound a bit specific but can we get some graves fluff/headcanons about reassuring (if he would) someone that got forced into a university major against their will despite having other majors in mind that now wants to try their luck in university again after an academic crashout, basically with someone that was actually academically successful earlier but chose the wrong major.. if he would bother to support someone in a struggle like this, that is.. if you don't headcanon him to be a judgy guy about those :(

(sincerely, suffering).. :(

Oh, anon, I’m so sorry. Been there, almost done that. I hope things turn for the better for you, just don’t lose faith in yourself, yeah? You got this. And you got some Graves fluff coming right up!

Phillip doesn’t like feeling powerless and he doesn’t like feeling helpless in a situation where he wants to go all out and come with guns blazing. But it won’t help much in current circumstances, wouldn’t it?

Not like you would be happy with him threatening your dean or ramming his way through your faculty department just so you can get what you deserve.

He almost pauses at the thought, fingers drumming absentmindedly, but no. He still very much can’t.

At least not if he wants you to be satisfied and it does sit in the top three of his wish list.

So your dean sleeps another night (though maybe Graves will manage to convince you that the best offence is a good fucking offence).

For now he settles for pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, huffing out air when he notices you spacing out again.

“Seems like you are off to dreamland, sugar, come on, you gotta come back to me.”, he mutters almost softly, hands snaking their way to wrap around your shoulders as he leans on you.

Phillip doesn’t like to see you struggling and doesn’t like being “moral support” because it doesn’t feel like doing much, it mostly feels like fucking nothing and he annoys himself with it. Drives him up the wall at times.

But he resigns to ordering takeout, fingers tapping on the options across the screen — his eyes flickering to you from time to time, checking up.

Phillip doesn’t let you get too deep inside of your own head, overthinking and self-loathing and overthinking again.

“That’s enough for the beautiful bright head of yours, darlin’, come on, up you go.”

Graves practically hand feeds you, eyes focused on your face as he shares recent squabbles among Shadows, gossip his lieutenant brings him (no one gossips more than white men and he is the living proof of that) and that new pick of operators they just hired had a welcoming party so fun some of them are still hangover.

The party was three days ago, he notes, eyes glimmering with laughter, lips curling into a sharp smile.

Graves stops pouring out details in your ears only when you actually giggle on between bites, crease between his brows dissolving.

Finally. Here we go, that’s his sweetheart right there.

“Got your spirits back up, didn’t I, baby?”, he hums, swiping away the crumb from the corner of your lips, blue eyes unusually soft.

He knows you got that — that you are capable and brilliant and the most resilient person he met. But Graves hates seeing you strain and hates being on the bench when everything in him tugs to be on the field.

But Phillip can’t just hide you away behind his back, wrapped in his jacket and dizzy from his kisses. No matter how much he’d like to.

You are your own person and he respects that the most.

“‘ts gonna be fine, darlin’.”, Phillip is warm and solid against you when he pulls you into a hug, lips pressing to your temple and cheeks and neck, lips curling when you smile. God, how he loves to see you smile.

“You are beautiful, fierce and sharp as a tack. You’re gonna come out on top, just wait and see”, Graves exhales in your neck, breathing tickling thin skin of it, lips ghosting over crook of your neck.

It’s nice to have you this close, right back in his arms again — your laughter under his lips, your eyes a little brighter, lines of your face softening.

It’s nice to be able to be your rock. Even if there are things that he can’t resolve for you.