John Price Is Hot

chewing on plywood rn

Barry Sloane as Eddie Wells in Passenger (2024)

I'm going feral. Someone put me down permanently, I can't go on with my life knowing that I will never have this man.

You really think she’s your girl. My brother in Christ she’s up in here every night twirling her hair and kicking her feet to the raunchiest “x reader” COD smut on the planet.

please write your reader insert however you want to. unabashedly!! write fat reader. black reader. asexual. masculine. tall. trans. disabled. you’re allowed to see yourself reflected in these spaces!!! sometimes your fic won’t be for everyone—it will be for all the people who look, think, love and experience life the way you do and that’s ok! it’s wonderful, actually.

it is not your job to make sure the shoe comfortably fits every single person out there. your only job is to tag it, and if anyone tells you otherwise I’ll personally come out swinging lol

i can’t wait for when chatGPT and ai image generation also crashes and each prompt cost $50 an attempt. oh you can’t get your stolen big tiddy anime ghibli art for free anymore? you want to buy real big boy art from real artists now? beg for it. beg for it like a dog.

idk if yall missed my headcanons but i got bored and figured out which dog breed the 141 would be + co authored by my dog neek friend

ghost who always have a grey, heavy, uninterested air about him but one day he comes to work, and he's got something behind his ribs clawing to be let loose. his teeth are clenched, his eyes sharp. his orders bite harder, his patience runs thinner, and the recruits feel it but don't understand it.

and it's all because you couldn't lie back and get eaten out like every other morning. it was routine. ingrained. automatic. ghost slips under the covers, dips his head between your thighs, and laps at your sex until you leave the mess he loves best— the slick, saturated spot he'd sniff while still wet. (can't blame me, luvie. it's sweet.)

you'd gotten up, thrown your clothes on in a hurry, and had been out the door, keys in hand, before he could get a word in.

unacceptable.

(kyle later catches him and asks him if he skipped breakfast or something. not by choice is what ghost tells him.)

I can’t fall asleep when I’m excited so I would definitely wait for Simon to come home from deployment even if it’s at 3am. I couldn’t go to sleep even when he’s finally knocked out next to me snoring up a storm.

Felt. I'm like this, too, nonnie, especially when I have to wake up early to travel the next day.

As for Simon snoring, he snores loud enough to wake the dead (god knows how many times he's injured/broken his nose). Bonus points because he's a clingy gremlin koala so a Blanket Named Simon covers you and not only do you hear his snoring, you feel it reverberate throughout your body.

But it's all good because he looks rather peaceful now that he's home in good hands.

Doesn't stop you from running a finger lightly across his stubbled cheek, though, making him twitch and grunt some before he leans into your touch and grumbles, "Mmm..." like the sleepy blanket gremlin he is. You do it again, bleary dark eyes open and look at you, and he looks comically owlish. You grin and cup his cheek fully.

"Go back to sleep, Si."

And he closes his eyes without hesitation. Leans into your touch like it's the last thing he'll ever do. And proceeds to wake the dead back up with his snoring.

It's good to be home again.

Joe Bowler's 'painting study'

Tired of washboard abs propaganda. We must post more tummy.