It Would Be So Jarring Dating Soap Because He Will So Casually Say Shit Like "spit In My Mouth Would

in all timelines and in all possibilities 🫶🏻

key frames below the line!!

Some old poly 141 art. i dont think i like this one too much but still. Eepy boys that were trying to watch a movie.

Care for a tiny taste of some boot worship on this fine saturady evening?

you book one of those fancy, exclusive cruises, and on day four, you confront the man in the cabin next door. he smokes day and night on his balcony, puffing some disgusting-smelling cigars. even with the door shut, the scent seeps in, clinging to the bedding and settling into your clothes.

when he opens the door, your head dips back to meet his gaze. he's weathered and intense, the kind of tired that seems permanently carved into his face. eyes that look like they've forgotten how to soften or blink at a normal interval. he leans a thick arm on the frame, shirt hanging open enough to reveal a dense patch of chest hair, and a faded heart tattoo with some woman's name scrawled on the ribbon curling around it. you can't help but notice a pale tan line on his ring finger where a wedding band ought to be.

and it's cute how you put your foot down. asking him to take his nasty habit to the deck. you're polite but obviously frustrated. annoyed. you're mid-sentence when he interrupts, lip curling in a sly smile that, until recently, has always worked.

"let me make it up to you. smuggled a decent bottle onboard. help me finish it?"

he must still have it because the offer catches you off guard, your irritation softening before you can stop it. not twenty minutes later, with the sun dipping low over the water, he's got you on the balcony, his cigar at your lips, teaching you how to take it.

While cleaning out my room I found a paper that my therapist gave me some time ago to deal with obsessive and intrusive thoughts. Sorry the paper is a little crinkled and stained, but I figured I’d post it in hopes that it will help someone like it helped me.

tommy knows the second simon comes home on his most recent leave that something’s up. that something’s different about him. and it only takes the briefest exchange of looks with beth to know exactly what it is.

there’s a dumb, lovestruck glint in simon’s eyes that wasn’t previously present.

of course, simon still greets his family in his usual dry tones; with his characteristic dismissiveness when asked about work. he still rolls his eyes when tommy pokes fun at him, and his shoulders still seem like they’re weighed down from carrying the world, but it’s all done with this look. this expression tommy has never seen on his brother’s face before.

it’s hard to decipher and impossible to find a reason for—at least, until simon is asking if one of his work friends could join them for dinner one night since he’d be in town, during his own transit home in a few days’ time.

as he asks, that spark returns. beth and tommy talk later that night in hushed voices, crawling into bed, and decide immediately that this work friend has something to do with simon’s nearly undetectable change in demeanour.

when they’re introduced to one john mactavish, that assumption proves itself painfully true.

even being the near complete opposite of simon—chatty and loud, though not unpleasantly so, and all smiles—tommy thinks john is perfect for his brother. he must be, if he can get simon to look at him like that. like tommy looks at beth. like john had hung the moon and stars just for simon.

john brings out some unique, hidden part of simon that had maybe never existed before, or had been buried deep. it’s sickeningly sweet, the love with which simon manages to infuse into the nickname johnny whenever addressing him. it’s terribly heartwarming, how john gets simon to open up more than he has in years.

and when john leaves, that spark dims, but never dies. tommy and beth say they’re happy for him, which is met with a confused look and a wave and a disgruntled goodnight.

huh.

clearly the story goes deeper than tommy thought.

he and beth (and maybe even joseph) will certainly be questioning simon about john over breakfast the next morning. if simon thought he could escape, well. he thought wrong.

it’s only fair that simon tells his family about the man that put that new light into his eyes.

Upcoming au wip✍️

I love that for ec!141 soap and gaz always try to be respectful with reader, but what do you think would break them?

Sleepy reader falling asleep between them on the couch

realizing you feel safe enough to curl up, head resting on Gaz’s shoulder and your feet tucked under Soap’s thighs (bonus points if you’re wearing one of the random tshirts the four of them share)

Gaz trying so hard not to move, but his blood feels like molten lava when your pretty eyes blink open, looking up at him, voice sleep laden as you try to get comfortable again

“don’t move… you’re comfy..” and you’re already nodding off again, tucked safely between two of your newest guard dogs

Uhm maybe this is too evil but. I’m thinking about getting a divorce from Price. It’s not angry and it’s not contested— in fact, it’s him who makes the suggestion.

You’ve been trying for a baby for years, with no results. And it’s put a strain on you both. Broken the love you shared. You can’t help but feel guilty— you wanted to have a child, but family was his dream. And you couldn’t give it to him. Blaming yourself just widened the divide wedging between you.

He insists you take the house. You’re the one who tried so hard for so long to make it home. Spent your time there alone when he was deployed. You sell it— not able to bring yourself to face the empty nursery, no matter how many coats of fresh paint it had.

Simon helped you move. As John’s right hand, it was almost like he was still with you. And it’s true— John had asked Simon to make sure you were alright. That you’d had everything you needed. But Simon would’ve done that whether he’d asked or not. He’d always been fond of you. Spent holidays with you both, helped you with Christmas dinners. He knew from the moment he met you why John had fallen in love with you. You just made it so easy.

He keeps visiting. Helping you unpack. Set things up. Do little fixes John used to take care of for you. Taking you out places so you don’t sit in the grief for too long.

It doesn’t take long for something to develop. Maybe something had always been there, like a dormant little seed in cold winter soil, waiting for a spring. It comes to a head right before he ships out for a deployment. The night after you sleep together for the first time is the best night’s rest you’ve had since the separation.

But a few weeks later, you don’t feel so well.

And two little lines look back at you from a tiny screen as you grip the bathroom sink to keep your balance.

we are all sinners