#pristin lockscreens

[vickysaurus]

I just realised I never posted these here, but a while ago I cut up the Collector’s Edition boxart into phone wallpapers!

[soulmateszedits]

Eunwoo ᓚᘏᗢ

✧ Simple || Requested

✧ Nako

[withwritersblock]

More Hearts Than Mine-Her Father Comes to Visit

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~ Author's Note: I adore this series with all my heart Summary: Her father visits Luke unexpectedly Warnings: None? Word Count: 1,692

It has been far too long since he has gotten his haircut, as he has been traveling tirelessly. He’s been everywhere but Jersey since April. It wasn’t his intention, it was pretty much how his summer plans ended up being.

But here he was standing in the bathroom staring at the nearly shaven sides of his hair. He was constantly battling with what haircut he preferred but he liked the way it looked right now. He was flying to Las Vegas tomorrow for the NHL Awards. He was mainly going to support Quinn, already holding the knowledge that he wasn’t going to win the Calder. Especially since Connor was going to win no matter who else was named a finalist. It was still could to feel recognized. 

He ran his hand across his chin, feeling small stray pieces of hair that he needed to trim off of his face. He sighed as he began to pull out the razor and his shaving cream. The doorbell rang as he furrowed his eyebrows harshly. 

He wasn’t expecting any company, neither was Y/N. She wasn’t even home. She was at work for another hour. He cautiously placed his razor back onto the bathroom counter before he cautiously walked through the pristine apartment. He had spent all morning cleaning before he went and got his hair chopped off.

He walked towards the door, hesitantly gazing through the peep hole to see Y/N’s father standing outside the door. He quickly pulled his head back, his eyes widening. Suddenly, he could hear his heartbeating rapidly as a wave of nausea flowed through his body. Pressing his lips together, he took a deep breath as he carefully pulled the door open.

Luke smiled a tight lip smile as he swallowed hard, “Y/N’s not here, she’s at work for another hour,” Luke choked out as he stepped to the side, opening the door a bit wider.

“Good, I came to see you,” he mumbled as he walked inside, without asking. Luke delicately shut the door behind her father as he nervously fiddled with the handle as he watched him look at every inch of the apartment he could see. “You didn’t add many decorations,” he observed.

Luke dropped his head as he took a small step towards the center of the apartment where he was standing. “I just had some photos that I framed,” Luke let out shyly, “And like clothes and stuff,” he continued, but he wasn’t sure why the words were leaving his lips. Her father nodded slowly as he continued looking around the apartment.

He took a few steps towards the new collection of photos of Luke and Y/N. He walked up to it, getting a good look of every single one.

The first one her father looked at was a mirror selfie. She held the phone, a wide genuine smile on her lips. He had a hold of her face, his hand held her chin and jaw in place as he passionately kissed her cheek.

The second one was a photo of Luke laying on her chest, his eyes looking up towards her, puppy dog like. She was smiling sleepily as she met his gaze. It was a FaceTime screenshot that her sister took while they were FaceTiming several months ago. The live photo of that moment is Luke’s lockscreen. Every time he misses her he looks down towards his phone and holds his thumb down against the screen and watches the short four second moment.

The third photo was a photo of Y/N and Luke standing beside one another holding the overflowing vases of roses. Luke was smiling a genuine wide toothy grin as she was crying tears of joy. She’s spent their whole time together admiring those roses, but seeing them bunch together had her sobbing.

The fourth and final photo was a photo of them together after Luke’s final game as a rookie. They didn’t win the game but Luke still had a wide smile on his lips as he looked down towards her. His hand was low on her waist as she was pulled tightly towards him.

“She smiles a lot around you,” her father let out finally after what felt like many unbearably long seconds. “It’s been years since I’ve seen her smile like that.” He soon spun around to meet Luke’s gaze, unsure of what to say next he points towards the couch. Luke nods as the pair awkwardly sits on the opposite ends of the couch.

“I’m stubborn,” her father continued, he took a deep breath as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You two living together is like I’m losing my daughter. I mean clearly I’ve already lost her long time ago if I can’t remember the last time she’s smiled like that,” He said as he pointed towards the photos on the wall besides the TV. 

Luke chewed his lip for a moment before he sat up straighter as he rested his hands onto his knees. “Y/N’s my first girlfriend. I was always so focused on hockey and trying to beat the best that I never wanted a relationship. But then I met Y/N and I will swear by this until forever that the world literally got brighter when she smiled at me,” he expressed, a soft chuckle leaving his throat. 

Her father laughed as a smile formed to his lips, “I said that in my vows,” his father let out shocked at his own words.

“Actually?” Luke forced out. Her father nodded as he took in a sharp breath. Luke tilted his head back as he clenched his jaw nervously. “I’m terrified that us living together has ruined your relationship with Y/N. I know how important it is to her that you like her boyfriends.”

“You’re the first one that’s made her happy. I knew that the second I saw you two walk into my house. I liked you from that moment. I don’t like that you’re a professional athlete, but I see that for eighty-two games you kept your promise that you told my daughter at the beginning of the season,” her father said as he pointed towards the vases of flowers. 

“She told you about that?” Luke asked. Her father nodded.

“I needed time to mourn that my daughter isn’t a little girl anymore. She’s happy and in love and I can’t stop that. I can’t stop her from growing up. So I got mad, I do that sometimes, I got mad at you guys. But you make her happy so I can’t be mad anymore. Which is why I needed to talk to you first,” her father expressed. He slowly stood up from the couch, holding out his hand. Luke quickly followed in pursuit as he shook her father’s hand. 

The apartment door was pushed open as an excited Y/N walked inside, “Lukey Love, I got done with work early, so I brought you some-” she stopped short as she rested the two pizza boxes on the counter, “Dad?” she asked softly. 

“Hey sweetheart, why doesn’t Luke have more decorations, it’s his apartment too,” her father said as he walked towards her. He stared towards her dad suspiciously as she shifted her gaze towards Luke. Luke simply shrugged as he excitedly jogged past her father and Y/N towards the pizza. 

“He didn’t bring anything, not my fault,” she mumbled with a grin as she excitedly wrapped her arms around her fathers neck as he hugged her. “So-so you’re okay with this?” she asked as she glanced towards Luke who was already half way done with the slice he had grabbed. 

“I want you happy, he makes you happy right?” he asked, eyeing Luke. 

“So happy, Dad,” she mumbled as she glanced towards him, nudging him slightly. 

“Sorry, starving. There’s enough for you too, Mr. Y/L/N,” he expressed as he lifted the cardboard of the pizza box again. Her father chuckled.

“Better grab a slice before this kid eats it all,” he joked as he took one. Y/N blinked away the happy tears forming in her eyes as she watched her father and Luke interact. 

~~~

She sat on the bed, the blanket covering her lower frame as she clicked through the collection of movies on Hulu. She sighed as she watched Luke walk into their bedroom, black sweatpants low on his frame as he ran his fingers through his damp curly hair. She shifted her gaze towards him, her cheeks heating up as she scanned his shirtless frame. 

His lips curled up in a small smirk as he stood beside her at the bed. “You okay?” he asked barely above a whisper as he ran his hand across her jawline. He forced her gaze towards him. She smiled as she met his gaze. 

“I’m happy,” she mumbled. He smiled as he leaned towards her, delicately kissing her lips. He pulled away for a moment before he pecked her lips once more. “I love you,” she whispered. 

He hummed happily as he climbed over her body as he plopped down beside her. “I love you more,” he whispered as he slowly climbed under the comforter. She clicked a random movie before she cuddled into Luke. Resting her head onto his bare chest, she could hear his heartbeat. Slow and content. “When your dad showed up earlier, I thought he was going to beat my ass,”

She chuckled softly as she ran her fingertip along his chest, drawing small circles. “He can’t hurt a fly,” she teased.

“Tell that to my head, still hurts from the panic attack I went through,” he said half joking. She lifted her head up, looking down towards him. She lifted her hand up as she caressed his cheek slowly. “God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled as he scanned her features. Lifting his hand up, he took a hold of her neck, her hair cascading over his hand. 

“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” she muttered, a teasing grin on her lips. “My pretty boy,” she whispered before she leaned towards him, kissing him softly.

[jeonride]

skip and kiss

SUMMARY; mingi says, "you have to kiss me if you skip a song because you're being disrespectful to my music taste!"

FEATURING; song mingi x gn!reader

TAGS; fluff, established relationship (boyfriend!mingi), slight humor

WORD COUNT; 1.4 K

WARNINGS; use of pet names, some kissing, mentions of sexting (but there isn't any scene of it), suggestive

NOTES FROM KALA; inspired by the song that mingi recommended (skip and kiss by sik-k) and i missed this boy sm 😔🖐🏻 the song mingi does have a great taste in songs yuhh >> mingi song recs playlist here !

jeonride's masterlist / join the taglist here !

The cold air from the air conditioner blows your face. You're lying on top of Mingi's chest while his back half leaning to the sofa bed, he's stroking your hair affectionately, occasionally kissing the top of your head when he's entertained by the stories you tell about your life experiences that he finds engaging. You aren't looking at each other right now. Mingi can only see your back. Yet you feel so loved in his embrace.

You love it when Mingi listens to you tell stories, making you the center of his attention. He always makes you the sole object of his attention when you tell him anecdotes or stories even though sometimes, they aren't that important, and aren't even funny. But Mingi likes to hear you ramble your thoughts to him. He stores everything about you in a room inside his brain while observing how you think when you respond to an annoying moment with your co-workers. According to Mingi, when he hears you tell him a story, he gets to know your attitude and the way you act, and how you solve problems, which inspires him to deal with difficult things in this life.

You are his role model. Mingi is your biggest fan in everything you do. Sometimes you wonder why he likes you that much. There was a moment when you were remaining silent, literally just breathing but Mingi looked at you as if you were a TV show that was so interesting and worth it for him to binge-watch.

Like now, Mingi kisses your cheek while complimenting you. "Your skin feels so soft," his compliments sound half-whispered, but you can feel his sincerity knocks your heart.

"Yeah because I applied your moisturizer." you reply with a slight touch of humor, successfully making Mingi laugh. His laugh makes you smile instantly.

"That's okay, you can use it. We can share, I don't mind."

You stroke his hand in response. Then there is a moment of silence between the two of you. You're really enjoying this moment— weekend, and you can spend time together with Mingi without worrying about unfinished assignments. Spending time with your boyfriend always manages to charge your energy again before starting a brand new day which will be just as tiring as days you successfully passed.

"Baby, I'm sorry can you hand me my phone? Wanna listen to my playlist while we're laying like this." he says, you follow Mingi's gaze to the table in front of your gray sofa bed. You get up slightly, struggling to pick up Mingi's phone on the wooden table because you are too lazy to stand. Not when you can feel the warmth of Mingi's embrace and his sturdy hands wrapped around your waist as if to imply 'don't go anywhere, please just stay in my embrace.'

You manage to grab Mingi's phone without actually standing up, then hand the phone with always pristine screen to its owner. "Here,"

"Thank you, baby." Mingi enters the password on the lockscreen. His hands are still wrapped around your waist as he holds the phone and his chin lands on your shoulder, so you get a view of what he's doing on his phone. You giggle as you look at Mingi's wallpaper— it's your photo, the one you sent him over chat. It's a selfie of you sensually licking on a lollipop, deliberately teasing Mingi. You remember sending it in the middle of the night and successfully getting Mingi to call you, asking for a sexting and you agreed.

"The wallpaper's cute,"

"Oh, shit." Mingi hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Please pretend like you don't see anything."

"And why is that?"

"I'm... embarrassed." You can feel how hot Mingi's cheeks are on your skin. You chuckle, then your hand strokes the top of his head, ruffling his hair gently because you think Mingi is so adorable right now.

"Why are you embarrassed? I remember even when sexting you were so—"

"Okay, baby. Stop. I'm really embarrassed now..."

You turn your head to the side, holding Mingi's chin with your forefinger, directing his face to look at you. He looks up, gazing at you shyly. You can see both of Mingi's ears turning red now.

"My baby being embarrassed, huh?"

Mingi nods slowly, looking adorable and delightful at the same time. Seeing how embarrassed his expression is, you don't continue your teasing.

Mingi on the other hand starts to open his playlist, and connecting his phone to the speakers in the tv room of his apartment via bluetooth. He presses the play button, it's only the first song, literally just started. But you press the skip button.

"Hey!" Mingi reprimands, his tone gets higher an octave. He seems disappointed. "You can't do that, baby. At least, not when the first song jus started!"

"But I'm in the mood to listen to the next song," you retort, cut the chase.

Mingi sighs in an unbelievable look. "Then you have to kiss me if you skip a song because you're being disrespectful with my music taste!"

"Oh come on, Mingi!" you protest. But eventually nod in agreement. This big baby of yours has to be obeyed otherwise his lips will continue to pout. "Okay then, deal."

Mingi smiles with satisfaction. He points to his soft and pink lips— that look so tempting, signaling you to kiss him. "Then kiss me. You just skipped literally the first song,"

You nod, smiling— the duchenne smile, and Mingi finds it enthralling, so lovely. You lean closer to him, kissing his lips softly. As soon as you suck on Mingi's lower lip, he instinctively opens his mouth. Returning your kiss with all his love. But when his tongue just met yours, you pull away. Mingi's face imprinted with a disappointed look, "Baby—"

"If I keep kissing you it will be a neverending make out session, Mingi. I've known you for years."

"Oh," he laughs. "You know me too well."

You return to your respective positions, you rest your head on Mingi's chest as if he was your pillow. You love hearing his heartbeat that always races when he's with you. Beating fast just for you.

Mingi's hand slowly slips into the shirt you're wearing, his shirt, the one he gave you when you arrived at his apartment. You were all wet because of the rain.

His large palm strokes your stomach, up and down. There is no lust involved, he just wants to give you a few strokes to soothe your body that had been working hard all week.

"Baby," he calls you in such a honey-like voice. "Can you just skip the next song?"

"Huh? Why?"

"I wanna be kissed by these pretty lips." Mingi strokes your lips with his thumb even though you have your back facing his face. He did it by muscle memory.

"Nope. Unfortunately the third one is also my favorite song,"

"Okay, changing rules. You have to kiss me everytime you listen to each song on my playlist."

You chortle. "Hey, that's cheating! We have to stick around to the first rule."

"Baby," he whines, with his deep ass voice though. "I'm the one who made this kissing game so I have the absolute right to change the rules."

"It's like you're forcing me to kiss you, Mingi." you shake your head acting as if you're disappointed, but a smile forms on your face. Happy just with the thought of him desperately wanting to be kissed by you.

"No, no please don't be misunderstood, I'm just... eager to—"

You kiss his lips again, at this time to shut his mouth. Mingi is surprised, of course. But he returns your kiss wholeheartedly. You open your mouth once his tongue knocks on your lips with such tenderness, wanting you to open your mouth for him and only him. Your tongue meets with his, entwining, saliva mixing. Mingi also grazes your teeth one by one with his surprisingly flexible and skilled tongue. Your fingers run to his hair, as he deepens the kiss by cupping your cheek.

The cold air from the air conditioner does nothing to lower the heat of the fire inside your chest. It's the way he kisses you that makes you weak. He feels like he wants all of you, wants to savor all of you, wants to feel the word 'baby' from your mouth on his lips while he's kissing you passionately. Everything about you is so addicting to him. Oh, you're such a lovely creature in his eyes.

Mingi ends the kiss when he can feel you need to catch your breath. He smiles, a smile that looks prettier than anything you've seen in this world. And you're sure you'll fail when you look for something more beautiful to beat his smile.

"I will never get enough of your kiss."

"Of course you do, Mingi."

And both of you laugh together, hearts feeling full with love for each other.

© jeonride 2023. all rights reserved. please do not copy, translate, plagiarize, or repost any of my writing anywhere!

[hauntedhokage]

at 1am

Nanami Kento/Reader (no pronouns)

word count: 665

warnings: angst, hurt no comfort

[crossposted to ao3] [prompt list]

He was late again. Absurdly late, this time, and the pristine kitchen tells him that you were feeling a way about it but didn’t want to call him. Which meant you had been crying, because that was mostly when you cried you didn’t want to talk to him. 

The half melted candles in the trash did a great job of telling him how long you’d waited, since they’d been sitting in the cabinet to wait for a special occasion so he knew they’d been burning for at least an hour until you gave up on the ambience - gave up on him - and started cleaning up. He wasn’t going to ruin your tidy kitchen, so instead he quietly makes his way through the apartment to get to the bedroom. 

He’s concerned when it’s empty. You’re not asleep, not sitting up in bed with a book waiting for him to be subjected to your frustrated glare, just the neatly made bed. The concern bubbles into fear when he enters the bathroom and sees most of your grooming supplies gone. No hair supplies, no toothbrush, body wash and shampoo all gone with just a note taped to the mirror that he didn’t bother to open.

When he pulls his phone from his pocket he catches the time, and he didn’t realize that it was that late. 1:15am stares back at him, covering part of your forehead in the picture that was his lockscreen. You should be asleep, but something tells him that you’re not and he runs the gamble of calling to see where you were.

Four rings, then he’s sent to voicemail. You were awake when you should have been sleeping, almost like you were waiting for him.

So he calls again. This time you answer after two rings. 

“So I exist now?”

“Where are you?” He knows better than to feed into your emotions when you’re mad at him. He knows that meeting your emotion with his own will only cause more problems, and any hope for an objective conversation would be gone for at least a week. “I just got home.”

“Don’t call it your home, Kento. You and I both know that your home is that office.” 

“My home is with you, that’s why I’m working so hard to ensure that you’re taken care of.”

“So you skip our anniversary dinner? It’s after 1am and you’re just now getting back!?”

You were getting more emotional, and he actually doesn’t know how to fix it if he’s not looking at you. Usually he could defuse the bomb with eye contact as he spoke to you, you could see the sincerity in his words and believe him. But he also supposed after a while he couldn’t expect that to continue to work if his behavior wasn’t changing. 

“Please tell me where you are.”

“I don’t want to see you.”

“I’ll stay home. I just want to know that you’re somewhere safe.”

“I’m at a hotel. The one with the nice restaurant you took me to.” He nods, although you can’t see it as he’s writing the name down. He’d call in the morning to have breakfast sent to your room, it was the least he could do. “Do you love me, Kento?”

You’re tired and upset, obviously not thinking clearly if you’re asking him a question like that. But he supposed he understood why you’d ask. It hadn’t been just this dinner, after all. Repeated habits say a lot about a person, he just hates that it gives you a question like that. 

“Of course I love you.”

“Start acting like it.” You’ve hung up on him, ending the conversation with a simple directive that feels like a knife in his heart.  No declaration of love for him, no request that he drink some water or sleep well, just a directive that was so unlike you but he knows that he pushed you to that point. You were hurt, and he could only blame himself for that.

[mashamorevvna]

OC phone game

💞 tagged by the lovely @yesistolethisurl!! thank you much dearest!!!💞

rules: use this picrew to make your oc(s) phone and post the results!!

SELENE

keeping a picture of bhaal's temple as a lockscreen bc she is a pleasantly religious young woman who keeps it traditional, humble, demure while she doomscrolls in some sewage post-serialkilling. doesnt listen to music, thinks its the work of the devil. the cat eared phone case is a gift from gortash (he's just a shady businessman with a cat girl fetish)

ARIANNA AEDUCAN

picture it (korcari wilds 9:31): busted af phone, barely listening to her dubiously consensual polycule of two (alistair&morrigan) bc she is too busy absorbing lana del rey music mid breakdown. suffering more than andraste on the pire. the darkspawn blood is there to enhance her #coquette energy

REVALEN

my most well-adjusted babygirl (which isnt saying much). rocking her pristine phone, unbothered, mosturised, a journaller to keep her peace of mind. developed a barely under control tea addiction out of ironic pettiness towards her ex(hastag piss solas the fuck off!), a tea lover in earnest now. also furry phone case bc, against all reasons to the contrary, i do think modern au halla fur would be used for dalish phone cases

tagging (if it pleases my lords and ladies and courtiers): @quacaserous @say-lene @bharv @yourworsttotebag @femmeharel

[ofcartographers]

○ little lady — johnny “soap” mactavish/simon “ghost” riley — fluff

「 Soap lets out a bark of laughter before yanking out his phone from his pocket, shoving the device in Ghost’s face. “Ye mean my cat, ye daft cunt?” Displayed on his lockscreen is a picture of a pristine white cat, with its baby blue eyes boring holes into the camera, its nose upturned almost in a feline sneer — if Ghost squints he can see the inscription of ‘Little Lady’ on its bejeweled collar. --- ᴏʀ: there's a misunderstanding and Ghost thinks 'Little Lady' is Soap's girl and gets jealous 」

Ghost wasn’t typically one for water cooler gossip, especially for asinine topics such as latest shags. 

He had resigned himself to ending his workout early and perhaps later returning to the fitness center when there were less nuisances around, when a certain Scot found himself the center of attention.

“Speaking of birds, I’ve heard you got one, MacTavish?” A nameless Sergeant asks. 

Ghost decides that perhaps he can stay a bit longer and finish up his session on the punching bag. 

The Scot pushes himself up from his reclined position on the weight bench with a huff. “Yer aff yer heid!” Soap laughs breathlessly, slumping over to catch his breath from his recent set.

“You taking the piss? Who’s this ‘Little Lady’ then?” Nameless Sergeant chuffs. Ghost is beginning to dislike him. 

Soap visibly perks at the mention of the name. “Och aye! My Little Lady? Sweetest little puss you’ll ever see—” 

Ghost punches the bag hard enough to knock it off-kilter, its chains rattling loudly as it wobbles to-and-fro. The entire room falls silent and all eyes are suddenly on him. 

He says nothing and exits the room in angry strides. No one stops him.

---

It’s easy enough for Ghost to avoid certain people should he desire to do so — after all, it is one of the reasons for his moniker.

It becomes less difficult to do so when it’s a member of the 141 and Price is involved. It’s just the Captain and Ghost pouring over mission proposals and leave logistics — one of the caveats of higher ranks — when Soap decides to pop on by.

Dressed in a faded hoodie that’s seen better days and a duffle bag slung loosely over his shoulder, Soap acknowledges his two superiors with a wide grin. “Captain! LT!” He waves with his free hand.

Ghost merely gives a grunt and the slightest nod of acknowledgement in return. “Soap!” Price returns with a nod and eyes his luggage. “Heading home to Glasgow then?” He quips.

Soap chuckles and nods, thumbing his nose almost bashfully. “Aye, I’ve been away from my Little Lady too long.” Ghost tenses at the pet name, but says nothing, instead choosing to focus on the suddenly interesting paperwork that’s set in front of him.

“Good, lad!” Price nods, and Ghost swears he sees Soap preen at this. “Well, don’t let us keep you then.” And just like that, the Captain is waving him off, “Oh, and say ‘hi’ to Elsie for me.” Ghost’s head snaps up at this. Sod the paperwork.

“Will do. Ta!” Soap calls out and he’s gone before Ghost can even say anything.

Ghost feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him. “Price, you know about her?” He manages to croak out, unable to bring himself to say her name.

Price looks at him as if he’s grown three heads. “About Elsie? Of course I bloody know about her. Even met her a few times.” He scoffs incredulously and his eyes start to soften and he’s giving Ghost the same look as one would a wounded animal and— 

“I need a smoke” Ghost announces suddenly and leaves before Price can get a word in.

---

It had been a couple of weeks since the ‘incident’ in Price’s office, and a few more since Ghost had seen Soap last. He knew it was inevitable they would cross paths again, though he wasn’t quite anticipating Soap to plop down next to him in the mess hall.

A rough hand claps him on the shoulder, accompanied by the warmth of a body pressing into his side as the Scot slides into the seat next to him. “Ghost,” he regards with a nod, removing his hand after a beat too long — the warmth of his hand, immediately missed.

Like moths to a flame, Soap attracts the unwanted attention of others in the room and suddenly the empty table Ghost had been sitting at moments prior was nearly full, much to his displeasure and had resolved on finishing up his meal quickly when a nuisance makes himself known.

“Looks like someone had a good leave, eh?” Nameless Sergeant tuts from behind Soap, hooking a finger into the collar of the Scot’s t-shirt and tugging it aside to put the tanned skin of his shoulder on display.

If Ghost strains his eyes, he can just barely make out a few lines of what appear to be scratches peeking out from the now disarrayed collar of Soap’s stupidly tight t-shirt.

Soap slaps away the offending hand and struggles to tug his collar back in place. “Awa’ an bile yer heid!” He blusters, the tips of his ears now red with embarrassment.

Nameless Sergeant just laughs and slides into the open seat next to Soap. “Your ‘Little Lady’ do that t’ya?” He hums, slinging an arm around Soap’s shoulder casually. He’s much too close for Ghost’s liking and decides that he definitely dislikes the man.

Soap tenses at the contact but doesn’t move to shake him off. “Aye” He sighs and hangs his head, his hand absentmindedly fiddling with his mohawk — a nervous habit of his, Ghost notices.

Clearly the Nuisance isn’t finished digging his own grave because his next question makes Ghost freeze mid-bite. “Got any pics?” Nameless Sergeant asks and Soap nods, digging in his pocket for his phone and pulling it out for him to see. Ghost can’t see his screen — he doesn’t want to.

As soon as Soap begins swiping through his photo album, people begin clamoring around him for a glance at his Little Lady —  it’s a mixed reaction, with a few chuckles here and there with the occasional coo, which strikes Ghost as odd.

“Nice pussy,” Nameless Sergeant sniggers at a particular picture.

Ghost slams down his fist on the table, and the entire mess hall goes dead silent — all eyes are on him. 

Soap looks at him with eyes wide, his brow wrinkled with concern. “Ghost?” He asks meekly, his hand reaching out for his shoulder and—

He can’t deal with this. Ghost abruptly pushes himself up from his seat, yanks down his balaclava that’s bunched around his nose, and storms out of the mess hall. This time someone tries to stop him.

“Ghost!” Soap is yelling after him, but he ignores him and increases his strides. “Simon!” Ah, shit. His steps falter.

Soap wastes no time in catching up to him, clapping a hand on his shoulder to keep the taller man in place — Ghost doesn’t have the heart to shrug him off. “What?” He grounds out through clenched teeth.

The hand on his shoulder gives a surprisingly sharp tug and he’s now about-face with his Sergeant. “Why’re ye up to high dogh?” Soap pants, his face red — though Ghost isn’t sure whether it’s from exertion or fluster.

And because he’s a right bastard, Ghost can’t help the sneer that escapes him. “English, MacTavish,” he coos instinctively — old habits die hard.

The tips of Soap’s ears turn red and his flush spreads down his neck — ah, so fluster then. “What the fuck is your problem?” The Scot grits out slowly, making sure to enunciate each word clearly, masking his accent entirely.

Soap is attempting to stare him down and his grip that’s now fisted in the bigger man’s shirt is unyielding — stubborn bastard. “Christ, Johnny!” Ghost finally snaps. “I don’t want to hear about that shite from you. Especially about your bloody girl!” He spits, his voice laced with venom especially at the mention of Soap’s ‘girl.’ 

Soap’s eyes have gone wide and his mouth is agape — it takes a few seconds of him slowly blinking before he’s shouting. “What girl?!” He actually throws his hands up in exasperation. It’s almost comical.

Ghost arches a brow at Soap’s confusion, but chooses to remain steadfast. “Your ‘Little Lady’?” He scoffs — he still refuses to say her name.

Soap lets out a bark of laughter before yanking out his phone from his pocket, shoving the device in Ghost’s face. “Ye mean my cat, ye daft cunt?” 

Displayed on his lockscreen is a picture of a pristine white cat, with its baby blue eyes boring holes into the camera, its nose upturned almost in a feline sneer — if Ghost squints he can see the inscription of ‘Little Lady’ on its bejeweled collar.

Ghost feels gut-punched. “What?” Is all he can manage to croak out.

The Scot points an accusatory finger at the bigger man’s chest and starts laughing breathlessly. “You’re jealous!” He accuses, tears start to form in the corner of his eyes from laughter.

Ghost doesn’t say anything.

“Over a cat!” Soap howls with laughter.

Ghost bristles at this. “Shut. Up.” He hisses.

Soap continues to crowd into his space until they’re pressed chest-to-chest — the finger that was digging into his chest, now curls into his collar.  “Make me.” He breathes, peering up at Ghost through wet lashes, his doe-eyed gaze focusing on Ghost’s clothed covered mouth.

Ghost lifts up his balaclava and acquiesces, of course.

[rainbowrocketquotes]

📱 for colress please? it's gotta be a chaotic nightmare only col understands, or completely pristine and you swear he just bought it

Colress? I hardly know... Ress... Guys, I'm running out of jokes.

His password is 1739246805. Which is a coherent pattern on the number pad, but the others see it be so long and they just kind of give up trying to break into his phone, so win/win.

His home screen is completely devoid of any apps, it's just the clock witdget and his task bar (Phone, texts, browser, camera, photos. So, default) His lockscreen is whatever he thinks is important at the time, which is usually screenshots of something he needs to remember, while his home screen rotates through of his Pokémon.

Believes in google supremacy in the android-apple war. He trades in his phone whenever the new pixel series comes out.

Always has a high battery percentage because he only really uses his phone to text people and look at memes. Usually he ends up wireless charging someone else's with his battery life.

His most used app is pinterest, because he likes looking at shitty tumblr takes, garbage tweets, and bad memes but refuses to go onto either of those sites, and there are... Interesting things on Pinterest.

Doesn't use social media, unless you could Pinterest. He doesn't want to get "corrected" by someone 10x less qualified than him. He also doesn't really play games.

Even so, he has about half of his storage used up just by the sheer amount of photos he has. Mad scientist brain. He sees a thing and goes "I must add it to my collection at once!" Whether it's a meme or a screenshot or even just a video he took of someone trying to get their keys out of a sewer drain.

Immaculate organization of his photo gallery, but, similarly to his pinterest boards, the folder names are completely incomprehensible. You'll ask him what one of them means and he'll go "Oh, so "hrreb📟" actually is my nature photos folder because that was me trying to spell "green" without my glasses on and also that timer emoji is kind of green and nature is also green, you know?" and you have to explain that no, you don't know, and he's absolutely insane for thinking that any of what he does makes sense.

He doesn't have any contacts saved except his siblings and Ghetsis, who are saved under their names, and Cyrus, who is saved under "Don't answer". Guess what muted contact he has 193 unread texts from?

He doesn't usually google things on his phone, and his only open search tab is "how to mute a contact without blocking them".

[joseopher]

How the different Atlas Six character text

Inspired a discussion on my my discord

Nico

Emojis, emojis, emojis😍

Sends memes constantly🤪

Sends weird pictures of animals he hyper-fixates on🐗

His phone case is cracked cause he keeps dropping it out the window, he could fix it, but he doesn't😝

His home screen is a picture of Gideon❤️

His lock screen is this:

Go to meme:

Max

I FEEL LIKE HE WOULD TEXT IN ALL CAPS

HE'S JUST SILLY THAT WAY

IF YOU GO TO HIM WITH YOUR PROBLEMS HE WILL JUST SUGGEST SEX BECAUSE HE THINKS IT'S FUNNY (EVEN THOUGH HE'S ASEXUAL)

Will text normally if something is really serious

ALSO LOVES MEMES

His home screen is a picture of him as a dog eating a bone that is dangerous for him and he is certainly not supposed to have

His lock screen:

Go to meme:

Parisa

Do not text her

She will not answer

Call her

Gideon

Uses text emojis like :)

Always has correct grammar

Loves his friends' memes but doesn't understand them cause he sleeps too much to keep up with what memes are popular

Tries to send memes back but they're always peculiar

His home screen is a picture of him with Max and Nico

His lock screen is this to remember if he's awake or not:

Go to meme:

Callum

His lock screen and home screen is the selfie he took of Tristan and Nico's hostage

He sometimes sends the hostage picture to Tristan when he wants attention

He will leave you on read if you text him (prefers calling)

If you're Tristan and you text him, he miiight call you

When he does text he ends everything with 🙂

Once Reina texted him and he replied like this: "Hello🙂" and "What do you want?🙂" which made Reina realize that something was wrong with him

Go to meme (ironically):

Libby

Makes lots of spelling errors because she's anxious! /nm

Lots of exclamation marks, smiley faces and tone indicators to make sure she's not misunderstood😀

Has locks on her phone to make sure she doesn't spend too much time on it

Study notes on her phone, but not too many in case Varona gets into it and tries to mess them up

Lockscreen/homescreen:

Go to meme:

Reina

one word answers

all lowercase because she doesn't care enough to capitalize

overuses this emoticon: -_-

prefers text over calling, but truly just prefers no one contact her ever

buys the least eco-friendly phones possible just to fuck with nature

is secretly disappointed when no one texts her

Lockscreen/home screen except she's actually serious that she hates plants:

Go to meme:

Tristan

Doesn't have a phone case because he is normal.

Has the latest phone and it's in pristine condition.

Default lock screen and home screen (except one time Nico got a hold of his phone and changed it into an embarrassing picture Nico took of him, which was him asleep on Nico's shoulder).

Ends all texts with a period. Even questions.

He does not send memes, he is not a child.

[sab3rto0thed]

i think i am the best girlfriend you ever had. i make you wait two hours for me in your car because i don't get out of bed. i cut all of my hair off because i'm feeling angsty and i hate my friends, because they hated me first. i only take pics of my tits after i come out of the hospital for anxiety attacks. you only send me photos of your cock when your family is home. you fantasize about me in every way―splayed, anxious, wanting. you send me a picture half-naked and want an award for not showing me your penis. you already did that last year. you tell me i need a man to take care of me. i buy my own fucking car. you pull me in tight when i tell you i attempted to kill myself last night, and then you give me blackouts for the next two years. you're better at fucking than me, but i'm a good statuette for the boys you let down.

i think i am the best girlfriend you ever had. i hold your hand and make you feel real guilty for dumping me. i wring your pristine neck and break all of your fingers so you can never play the piano again. i tell you about all of the boys that want to make out with me and make sure you know i am using them to use you. i tell you i'll be fine when we fuck and then i don't even let you cum. you should have known better by now, you god damn idiot. i kick you in the chin whenever you put your hands on my waist. i fucking hate you, and that's the only reason we're still dating. i wake up tangled in your sheets and i cry in your dorm while you sleep with your arms around my stomach. you want to fuck me so bad until you actually do. this is how it goes―i am a let down. i did warn you, sweetheart.

i think i am the worst girlfriend anyone has ever had in their life. i wish you would spit in my mouth, if you even care. i make sure to take my jokes too far until you want to hit me in the head and knock all of my teeth out. i hate loving boys. i love when they hate me. my best friends are a union to my defense―they don't pull me in when i write suicide notes, but i don't really write suicide notes anymore. i am the worst girlfriend to them. i cannot make flower crowns and i cannot drive. i am frequently angry and sometimes i smash chalk and tear the house apart in my fury. i used to call the suicide hotline from my closet and get casually sick on the couch. i hate making out but i want to do it all the time. i use all of the boys that like me. i make sure they are second place. truly, i don't need anyone―i just thrive off of attention. it's all a lie. i am an actor, award winning and all of that.

i am fairly certain that i am the worst girlfriend anyone has ever loved. i am not talking about my exes anymore. i say awful things and i am frequently defensive, very judgmental, and high on edibles at least fifteen percent of the time. i tell you my cat is dying and you show me a picture of your dead cat on your lockscreen, and then you hug me really tight. i feel threatened and you tell me that i, of all people, should not feel threatened―i can say fuck off at my corporate job. you'll let me. i need a place to stay and your parents will have me. i need a place to stay and you'll have me. i am cruel. i am mean. i am awful. i am the worst girlfriend you've ever had. i wake up in your bed with my hair standing straight up and you look at me so fondly, i cry. i throw up and you tell me to stop taking pills and that it only feels like the end of the world―you would know, you say, you have anxiety too. we dance around saying i love you because it's a little tricky for both of us, but i tell you you're kind of my dad and you hug me every time you see me. i am the worst girlfriend in the world. i underbake my cookies. my one redeeming trait is that i am loved―irreversibly, irredeemably. i can get away with being the worst girlfriend in the world. in theory, i can get away with whatever i want. i can fuck off. i am, after all, just a girl.

[vasfasan]

💛📷

💛 Do you have any piercings? nope, no piercings or tattoos, completely pristine.

📷 What’s set as your phone’s lockscreen?

[kpop-locks]

kyulkyung; simple

like/reblog | @percysith

[soulmateszedits]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request Eunwoo (ex Pristin) simple lockscreen, please. ^^

Hello angel! Sorry for the delay to answer, but yesterday I wasn't very well, and I only managed to answer the next day😭💓 so... Is here, hope u enjoy little sunshine🍰✨

- Nako

[meteorlandy]

Xiyeon Lockscreens

like or reblog if you use ☄

don't repost ☄

->->->-> @meteorlandy <-<-<-<-

[velvetclub]

minkyeung lockscreens

𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀.

𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍.

[violetyerim]

like or reblog<3