#dear johnny «✦» ( asks

[bubblegumflavor]

Just them. :'3

[pfhwrittes]

shoutout to @391780 for the document titled "highdeas" because i have written some fucking excellent stuff in there in my codeine fuelled haze at points

[precious-little-scoundrel]

When Bucky was being a depressed little shit at the camp I kept thinking how Buck would constantly bring up Acorn to get his morale up and to get him to stop being a dumbass 🥺

YOU KNOW HE WOULD! Every time I see those pin up posters on their bunkroom walls I think about how the guys know they serve a two fold purpose, to keep up general morale and keep Bucky Egan remotely sane with the prospect of making it home to something and someone, even if it’s just a kiss from an actress he terrorized once upon a time.

I can see them collaring him and dragging him to the WALL OF REASON and pointing to her face and pushing his nose into her printed boobs and generally making a habit of reminding him why it’s a bad idea to touch the electric wire or try to pick fights with the snipper in the watch tower.

[hxllblazer]

[COMFORTS] The sender reassures the receiver, offering comfort while tending to the injuries. || @elliotglover

It was probably the thousand-yard stare that was doing it, or the fact that John was still alarmingly quiet. Either way, he hadn’t really expected Elliot to shake him just a bit after applying the antibiotics on the worst of the burn marks.

The glare was instinctive, but he wasn’t upset at Elliot. No… he was upset at himself. Even whatever sweet, sweet words were being spoken wouldn’t change any of this. He dragged Elliot in after promising to keep his bullshit out. He put Elliot in a position to let that fucking—thing out…

“… Y’ shoulda left me to die in Dis.” A sigh, tired, and he ran a hand through his own hair. “Open yourself to better opportunities t’ actually care about yourself. Get a better fiancé, a better life.”

[irritablepoe]

How cuteee🥺

[foolofatook001]

Why is johnnie redmayne you beloved boy

Oh heavens. Where do I start

There are three whole Lord Huron songs about him but I do not have time for a line-by-line lyrical breakdown of his character

First of all it’s definitely the devil-may-care personality and the “well if the world ends tomorrow, at least we had fun tonight” attitude

Also he’s so full of life, even after he dies— mans gets a look at the other side of death and goes “nope, not for me” and comes right on back— and like, yeah, he’s got regrets, but he’s still got fire!

The leather jacket and the motorcycle riding don’t hurt either ;)

[thecluelessdoctor]

can I give Johnny a lil smooch?

[angeljohnnylaw]

wore my ck shirt to the gym today, made all the middle aged gym bros mad because they’re all daniel stans who are obsessed with, and i quote, the fact that “he still hasn’t reached puberty yet”

[thedeadthree]

🖊🖊 + Hinata and Nadezdha 👀

HIIII MARI ANGEL <3 I hope ur doing well and had a lovely day/holiday!!!! THOSE ARE MY GIRLIESS <3 i missed them sm u know? i also FINALLY at last finished edgerunners (i started it a bit back and finished it at like 4am this morning asjknkd so good oh my god IT HURTT but it was the loveliest u know?) and i missed the babies <3

SEND A 🖊 + I WILL GUSH ABOUT MY OCS

🖊 - so funny story, but the man that hinata and oda were sent to zero on behalf of her great grandpops s*aburo..... was actually the man who ordained their wedding sansknksd. SO he was a priest right and one popular with the corpos that were employed by 'saka in NC. well, he started speaking ill of the company and selling company intel to their rivals when the employees would go to confession. so like..... he had to go u know? blah blah talk ill of the corp u get zeroed etc etc. they devised a genius plan to have him marry them, when she says "you may kiss the bride" they do of course buuuuut they also zero him in the process while he's distracted.. and they did just that! and it worked! hinata and oda yank out their mantis blades and the deed was done <3. every great wedding ends in someone getting flatlined right?

🖊 - so this second one will sort of be what i think in theory how she’ll be in phantom liberty? so if this is a post game thingy hideo (her charge and her and odas adopted son bc SOMEONE has to and it sure ain’t his brother yori sjzjhzhx) will be ceo as his brother is to step down and is put on house arrest in a time out bc of the coup ksjzjxhxh. if vika ends up having to take on ‘saka again it may mean that the besties turn into adversaries which would BREAK my heart but also be absolutely EHEM *nova* if the white widow and worlds coolest cyberninja faced off u know? ORR if it’s like during the main story i mean the besties in a spy thriller would so be siiiick u know? oda supporting the wife from the tower in the plaza like “thats my wife” ❣️😌 etc etc!

🖊 - YAY MARI U SAINT U I ADORE U SM I’ve been wanting to scream about her for literal years slzkxjxj she’s been around for a WHILE living in the head along with vika rent free with luxury room service <3 she was like a blob of like ✨vibes✨ like with the red aesthetic and the red hair for YEARS until i found the perfect fc and name? a little lore into her design color and symbolism is a HUUGE part of her character development and design? the way as growing up she wore a lot of neutrals and it was deliberate as she wished to be as out of sight as possible? then it was as if a switch flipped following a near depth experience in a deep dive into what was the pre data crash net. red is passionate it’s power it’s so much more and all what she wished to be. she became the red queen and faked her charismatic nature until she forgot where the old nadya ended and the red queen began. for the version of her she conveyed to the world and her true nature became one and the same. <3 lilith killed eve the day she became the red queen.

🖊 - OO okay this’ll be the fun one.. for this one we will be discussing! nadyas………. “lovers.” shes got three in her character arc that hold the most meaning to her both good and bad. those would be: y*orinobu (HUUGE) johnny (VERY) and r*ache (VERY and also painful!). if i for sure need to do a deep lore dive essay into the meaning of people in her life especially these three. but in essential the tropes to best depict them are for sure “mutual obsession inevitable downfall” for yori and nadya. “right person wrong time and rivals to lovers” for her and johnny. and! pain pain and suffering “tragic doomed lovers” for nadya and rachie <3

[vampiresavior2]

Let’s talk about johnnys solo stage 😵‍💫

i haven’t seen the most recent one i’m scared 😭

[bagofshinyrocks]

Government name vs Military callsign

Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: none

John Price

Government name.

Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.

“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”

Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.

“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”

“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”

He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.

“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”

When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.

Simon Riley

Military callsign.

When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.

“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”

“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 

Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.

“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.

“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”

Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 

A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.

Kyle Garrick

Government name.

He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.

“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”

Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.

If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?

“Kyle Ga-”

“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”

You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”

“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”

He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 

“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.

John MacTavish

Military callsign.

He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.

Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.

“SOAP!”

Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.

“JOHNNY!”

“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.

“C’mere, c’mere.”

He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”

You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”

He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”

“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”

“You called me Soap.”

“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”

Posted: 2023 Dec 10

[anamelesstraveler]

"You miss that?" Simon points surreptitiously to the couple with a nod of his glass.

"What? Women?" Johnny asks with a cheeky smile.

It earns him a playful smack to the back of the head. "The butterflies," Simon corrects.

Johnny leans back in the booth and spreads an arm across behind Simon, resting the tips of his fingers on the sensitive skin where shoulder meets neck. He caresses over a raised line there, a scar that's not quite a year old, and hums to himself before replying.

"Nah," he says finally. "Still get butterflies with you. Especially when—"

He's cut off by Simon pulling him to his feet and into a close embrace. Tucked into the back corner, they're away from most of the restaurant's prying eyes. Still, Johnny whispers out a "Si, what the fuck are you doing" before Simon shushes him and points to the ceiling.

"Listen, Johnny."

Johnny does.

It takes a moment, but once he hears the familiar croon of a Shania Twain ballad coming in low over the speakers, he wrinkles his nose.

Simon leans in close to his ear. "C'mon. Dance with me," he insists, grabbing Johnny's body and swaying him gently to the rhythm of the song. -Ch12 Seven-Year Itch by noxmajor

!!! As a part of @bluegiragi's charity art drive, I requested this amazing piece for a dear friend 💖 Gira, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you do! Nox, congratulations on finishing this masterpiece. Please go read Nox's fic, and enjoy all of the tasty drama!

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS MK1 | "REACTING TO THE VOLUME OF THEIR BULGE APPEARING IN YOUR BELLY" - 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 + 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐊

TW: size kink, afab anatomy, pet names, v!sex, hard smut, not reviewed.

BI HAN, SHAO KHAN, SHANG TSUNG, KUNG LAO, KUAI LIANG, JOHNNY CAGE, BARAKA.

Fucking him on top of you was always too intense to be true, he was a big man compared to you - and he made a point of making this dynamic very clear, he loved power, how it made him feel so powerful and relentless in compared to your small body, he could easily break you and that was fucking exciting for him. You opened your legs for him like a needy slut for his cock, while he poured a series of delicious degradations in your direction, going with two fingers up your wet and needy hole, while his other thick hand came against your face, forcing you to watch his fingers aggressively work on you, saccharistically placing the blame on you for having such a tight pussy - he loved how tight you were, but he also loved seeing you blush with embarrassment.

"-Oh come on angel... Don't be shy..." He moaned, smiling roguishly, while placing his dick on top of your pussy, making a comparison to your entrance, his hard dick reached your navel easily. He made a quick movement, without any warning, making you jump and arch your sides in a loud moan that echoed through the walls, he placed his hands on your hips, running his thumbs over your skin, soon seeing the bulge that formed on your skin, he could see his own cock taking you, it was too much for him, a primitive moan, perhaps even animalistic, left his lips, as he accelerated with all his might, moaning with every movement he could see under your skin, knowing that he was filling you completely, he is totally arrogant about it, taking one of your hands and taking you to the place.

"-Feel it baby... This is the power I have over you, only I can fuck you like this, you hear? Only I can fill you like this." he moaned hoarsely, smiling as he sped up even more, he was going crazy with every movement seen outside of your womb, he loved it, he loved being so strong compared to you.

"-You're going to cum, right? After all, you love a huge cock inside your little pussy." He placed his hand on your waist again, marking with his thumb where his dick went, while he leaned in and whispered in your ear between screams of pleasure. "-I'm going to fill your fucking uterus with my semen, and breed in that beautiful pussy, right?"

LIU KANG ,RAIDEN , TOMAS VRBADA, KENSHI, ZEEFFERO, QUAN CHI, HAVIK, REIKO, SYZOTH.

Fucking him while you sit on his dick, with his body sitting on the messy bed - sex before bed, with all the passion and with the intention of killing the longing he felt for you during the day, he knew it was a: A big, strong man, his muscles overcame the clothes he wore - he loved holding you in his arms, suspending you around, while he fucked you in every corner of the house.

He would kiss you passionately, while your hands went behind the back of his head, while his eyes slowly opened, seeing his hard cock, close to your pussy, the comparison was huge, he was always afraid of breaking you, often he just he would let you rub yourself against his thigh or over his dick, without any penetration or even inserting just the tip of his shaft, but when you asked for more he would back away, even if you begged for more, he was a patient man.

But that patience ended a while ago, and he needed that. He moaned more, as he watched you slowly sit on his cock, warming him with your heat, the sound of your wetness, he grinds his teeth as he felt the paradise of your walls squeeze him, he would try to ask you if you were okay, but soon he would see the bulge in your belly, making him tense with desire and moan loudly as he threw his head back.

"-Fuck dear, look at this... Mmm- Ah I can't control myself Mmm-" he then made a quick movement with his hips, thrusting everything inside you, stretching you wide open, as he always wanted. His strong, veiny hands met your hips, squeezing the soft flesh, while his eyes focused on the length that was exposed under your belly, making him grunt and sputter, passing his fingers with each thrust of your cunt. on him, drooling the thick length inside you - he was addicted, the vision of filling you up completely, and seeing you feeling pleasure with him slamming the fat head of his dick repeatedly into your sweet spot, made the big guy cum without warning someone, filling you with cum, with hard thrusts and even bordering on pain with so much pleasure, like a thin line of desire.

"-Ah- fuck, I'm going to fill you up... C-cuming-" he screamed as he emptied his thick and viscous contents into you, the sensation was overwhelming, leaving you with even more volume in the uterus, even with him slowly leaving you.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[ankerias]

follow up question, what does “enka” mean?

personal affectionate diminutive

[hxllblazer]

"You're a mess. How did you even get into this situation?" || @thejadedking

“This you bein’ sweet? Should I expect dinner ‘n present on your bed with a bow on me bits that says ‘dessert time’?” Definitely up for debate if any of that was a joke or what percentage of that was most definitely the concussion he definitely had after taking that fall.

On the plus side? Majority of the impact was cushioned. Donwside? It was a very smelly and very gross cushion… And John definitely wasn’t going to spend too long even trying to think about just what the red and muddy muck clinging to his skin was. He could already smell it and fuck was he going to hate how he was going to have to burn these clothes later.

A shame, really. He was rather fond of these trousers…

“If you gotta know, the butler did it. Like… literally just—” He mimicked the whole picking up and throwing thing—or at least did his best to one handed. “Dunno what the shit y’ got me involved in but I’m tripling me finders fee. And using your shower.”

[tojisun]

“ghost,” price’s voice rumbles in his ear, the faint static almost breaking through his focus. there’s a familiar cadence in his captain’s voice, one that drags against simon’s body in miasmic waves—it is, after all, nothing short of a warning. still, none of it matters, and simon continues to march on.

“the mission–”

“stopped being my priority,” simon replies, cutting him off.

there was nothing but a crackle. a quiet whirring. then, “you know this is not what they would want.”

he grunts. “good thing they’re not here then.”

simon slinks into the shadows, ducking underneath the balcony, his eyes frantic as he scans the parameters. it’s safe. quiet. too quiet, in fact.

“location?”

“south of the chapel,” gaz replies with no hesitation. simon hums to himself—price must’ve shifted his directives too, then.

“roger.”

he moves, his boots crunching against the gravel and filling up the dead passage way with just enough noise. there’s still a whole lot of suspicious inactivity, one that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise up, but he doesn’t get to dwell on the thought anymore. not when a loud bang rips through the silence.

his breath stutters, mind racing—that sound came from the shed.

his legs tense, muscles rippling.

“shots fired!” he reports before he leaps, devouring the vast space between himself and the sounds of scuffling. prayers form on the tip of his tongue, racing down his throat like scalding water.

he’s not even a religious man, but dear gods–

simon passes around the chapel, eyes cataloguing the lit rooms inside what he was told to be a desolate building, before tearing through the wooded shed. he knows he should’ve searched the area for any threat, should’ve probably waited for backup, but simon’s been running on overdrive, his emotions piling. spilling.

he tears the door open, guns poised for easy aim. only–

simon’s body buckles, throat constricting with the words he wishes he can say. but there is nothing else to be said. nothing but thank you’s.

because there, standing in the middle of the chaos, bloody and wounded and banged up to hell, is you. you weren’t even taken for that long but look how much they did to you. they hurt you.

your feet are soaked with blood, your boots and socks having been stripped off of you as though a part of their attempts at making you incapable of leaving. your face is swollen. marked up. cuts trace from the angle of your jaw to the side of your temple, leaving blood to trickle down to your neck, staining your tee. the gash doesn’t look deep, but maybe that’s all the blood covering the actual extents.

simon forces himself to breathe. to stay still.

(everyone has their own triggers, that’s what they were first told when laswell brought you to them.

“remember theirs and be careful,” she said before a pleased smile tugged at her lips. “mommy’s bringing home a new littermate. aren’t you all glad?”

the meeting ended there, just as johnny opened his mouth to complain. price passed around your file and simon memorized every line that night—your tell, your preferred gun, your morning beat.

somehow, he thinks that maybe that night was when his devotion to you started.)

simon watches—he’s always been watching you since the day that you arrived—as you compose yourself. the m9 is still gripped so tightly in your trembling fist, the metal quietly creaking at the pressure. it fills up the space in tandem with your ragged breaths, and he knows you’re still there, trapped in the depths of your mind.

alone. angry. scared.

“status?” price asks.

simon licks his lips. “unstable.”

he hears the faint crackle of johnny cursing from the other end of the line, and simon gets him. he really does. but he thinks they also just don’t understand.

you’re here. alone. alive.

your spiral is just proof of that. proof that even in your loneliness, amidst the pain, you clawed your way to survival.

simon hopes you two were back home—the barracks have been home for years now—so he can reward you. sweetly. fully. you deserve all that and more. deserve to be devoted on. to be adored. to be revered.

you were always beautiful, of course, but there is something sacred in seeing you like this: bloodied, angered, victorious.

he prays that your wounds will turn to scars, if only to give him a map of where to press his kisses from now on.

“ghost?” you finally mutter, and it tears simon from his thoughts. your voice is a weak rasp, like you’ve been parched for eons, and despite that, it spills the tension from simon’s body, his muscles loosening up at finally seeing you return to the topside.

he wants to say your name. he wants to sound it out—aren’t names made to be chanted like prayers, anyway?—but he reels himself in and mutters your callsign instead. the name tumbles from his mouth with the desperation and the worry smothered under the guise of grace.

your lips twitch up in an attempt at a smile. they don’t really get to make it much because of the gash running down the corner of your mouth. still, it makes simon stumble over his feet until he is rushing past corpses and sliding into your space.

“can i–”

he doesn’t even get to finish asking before you’re falling into his arms, tucking in your bruised face carefully on the crook of his neck. he takes your bulk in his embrace, folding you to himself, before he rests his chin on the top of your head.

you fist at his vest, your other hand still tight on the m9, and simon can’t really blame you. even he still feels exposed to any danger from in and out of this shed even when you’ve taken out all of the enemies. so he holds you close and holds you tight, knowing every second is sacred.

he breathes you in, taking in the scent of the leather, gun powder, and iron. it all feels familiar to him; it all smells like you.

simon nuzzles the smooth part of his mask over your temple. then, “let’s go home?”

you shift until you’re peering up at him, and simon takes this as the chance to catalogue the extent of your wounds. his lips purse at finally seeing the gash; you would probably need stitches.

“okay,” you finally reply. your eyes wrinkle as you attempt to smile. “thanks for comin’ back f’r me.”

“always,” simon murmurs, feeling choked up as his exhaustion finally catches up on him. “y’know that, right?”

you hum, nodding, and that was that.