the height of those socks BABYGIRL GODDAMN
(imagine if those socks and that hat had been the final costume choice)
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aw winter being the time of year katsuki doesn't want to get out of bed without you 🥺 you've grown used to waking up in the morning when he leaves, and then waking up a few hours later in an empty bed—but during this season, you wake up with him curled around your back, leg between yours, face buried in your neck below the blanket. like fully encapsulating you and trying to roast you both alive 🥺
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People say that Ghost is Soap's self control, his retrain. The impulse control to Johnny's chaotic energy.
Some might even go as far as to say he's the the mind behind Soap's more careful choices-
It's funny and Ghost laughs at it. Not in their faces, of course, but privately. Jokes about it with Soap, made it an inside joke between them.
Because... It's completely wrong. Completely wrong. But not extremely wrong, his Johnny is chaos incarnate, sometimes he does need a hand to pull him out of the crazed fog his brain gets after setting off the most beautiful of explosions. Or to guide him back after rage clouds his senses.
But that's about it.
In reality Soap is constantly holding himself back, with dangerous smiles and tempting words. He hardly ever shows his true colors or motives. Cunning, like a fox.
It's all about appearences
And what people, in their... Closed up minds don't see yet is that- It's not Soap McTavish that needs restrain (he still bites) or a hand on his shoulder-
But Simon Riley.
The Ghost, who looks calm collected in it's all imposing figure is nothing but a weapon at ready for Johnny to use.
One moment he'll be still, immobile, listening. Waiting, always waiting. Patient-
In the next one, after a simple look from Soap and a soft command. He's butchering the battlefield like he was born -made- for it.
Finishing everything in record time and going back to him, drenched in blood, stance at attention.
Johnny let's the most animalistic side of Simon come out. Let's Ghost take over with no judgement, only swiping the blood from his face with the same gentle caress you would use on a wild wolf. Love coloring his eyes in dark shadows.
It reminds Simon of the depths of the ocean. Dangerous, deadly magnetic and so so beautiful. John smiles up at him and he can't contain himself but to kiss his knuckles. Worshipping.
Because the truth is:
Soap disregards his orders with a roll of his eyes
Ghost waits patiently for them with admiration
And the reality is that: Johnny is the mind to Simon's heart.
The thoughts to his actions.
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