#((Very cheesy of you to say that John.))

[syoddeye]

sliding scale

You're in need of a handyman. He has needs of his own. cw: discussion of kids/pregnancy, john price inserting himself into your life, heavily implied breeding kink, unsettling and smutless (my brand)

You win the jackpot. Okay. Not the jackpot, but you're hit by a respectable windfall. It's like a cheesy movie you'd watch around the holidays: A distant relative dies, you receive a very serious letter, and suddenly, your account isn't as sad as it once was.

So, you do the impossible. The unthinkable. You buy a house.

An old, well-loved house from an elderly couple.

The day you close, they tell you about raising their kids in the house and mention the names etched on the door frame. When you arrive home that evening, the empty house feels grand and hollow, but there they are, just where they said. Names climbing upward in uneven increments, faded with time, but legible. You trace your finger along the marks, imagining small hands and the measuring tape, the years slipping by. It makes you smile, despite yourself.

You've never wanted kids, not really, but the thought of this, people leaving bits of themselves behind—it makes you mushy. You figure, once the dust settles, you'll let rooms to friends, maybe friends of friends. Start a fun little commune of sorts, a collective of people coming and going.

The first night, you drink nonalcoholic wine straight from the bottle and lie on your mattress on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. There's no furniture yet, just your overnight bag and the smell of fresh paint from a patch you tested on the living room wall. You fall asleep smiling. The house needs a lot of work, but you're not worried. Some TLC and elbow grease can go a long way.

Over the next few weeks, you move in and start working. Anything is possible with the power of YouTube tutorials and the local tool library.

You start in the primary bedroom and bathroom, learning to tile, install flooring, and connect plumbing for the perfect vanity and sink you found at a thrift store. It feels good to learn how things fit together and see the fruits of your labor. At night, you sleep in one of the old kid's rooms. The wallpaper is covered in rockets and planets. A couple of glow-in-the-dark stars cling to the ceiling.

The bathroom comes together wonderfully, and you feel invincible.

But then you get to the kitchen.

After an outlet zaps you, you decide you may be in over your head. That there really is a limit to what one person can do on their own. You start looking up local contractors, but everything is out of your budget. You've been doing all the work yourself for a reason. Then, after digging for ages, you find a promising lead: John Price - Handyman - Sliding Scale.

On the phone, John seems normal. Charming. Funny. He tells you he's impressed you bought a house on your own. (You've heard that a lot lately, and while it feels patronizing, you let it go. You did jump up a band upon inheriting your chunk of Great Uncle Leroy's money.) He agrees to come by and see what he can do.

You have to admit he makes a good impression when he shows up. He's punctual, polite, and looks the part. Broad chest, thick arms, big hands resting on his hips as he surveys the kitchen. After only a few minutes, he says he'll take the job. No hesitation.

You explain your tight budget and that you'll work alongside him when you're not at your day job. You show him the money you've set aside, expecting him to back out, but he just shakes his head and nudges the folder back across the table.

"Said I'd do it. Don't you fret, darl."

You vet him afterward, just to be sure. His references check out. The reviews are solid. He appears to know a little about everything. You text him to confirm, formally offering the job, and he accepts.

On the first day, you let him in and immediately have to avert your eyes. You didn't realize a toolbelt could look like that on someone. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his forearms, and the way he moves—confident, purposeful—makes you grateful you're heading out to work. You tell him when you'll be back and leave quickly, gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual thinking about the hunk of man in your house.

When you return, the kitchen looks different, unfinished, but vastly improved. John's already fixed things you didn't think could be fixed. Over lunch, he even scoped out other problems around the house: a crack in the basement wall, a loose board on the stairs, and spots where the flooring must be replaced. He gushes about the house, praising its character, the way it's held up over time.

John's face grows serious, and stares down his nose when he finally asks, "You're not gonna ask me to paint over the wood or rip out the built-in hutch, are ya?"

His relief over your answer is palpable: No. That's why you bought the house in the first place. You describe what you love about it: the glass doorknobs, the dining room archway, and transom windows above the doors. He nods. He knows exactly what you mean.

Before he leaves for the day, he stops at the doorframe and points to the tallest name etched into the wood. You explain it belonged to the previous owners, a family with seven kids.

"Seven," he repeats, eyebrows raised.

"Right? Can you believe that? Seven!" You laugh. Frankly, anything more than two sounds insane. 

But John doesn't laugh. He stares at the names for a moment, his jaw tight. "Yeah. Difficult to imagine."

After he leaves, you scold yourself. You don't really know John. You've known him for all of a day. What if he came from a big family? Or what if he doesn't speak to his family anymore, if things are complicated with his parents? You feel awful, and the guilt channels itself into stress-baking.

The next morning, when he shows up, there's a platter of breakfast pasties waiting on the counter. He hesitates, looks almost bashful, until you insist. He takes a bite, then another, and looks at you with genuine astonishment. He says if you leave food like this every morning, he'll knock his rate down even further.

It makes sense, financially speaking, so you agree. You start making breakfast for two, and in return, he keeps the repairs affordable. The ritual becomes routine: John shows up every weekday morning, you eat together, he gets to work, and you leave. You look forward to seeing him. Hearing his voice rumble out good mornings and goodnights.

For two weeks, you come home to find steady progress on the kitchen. You help him out for an hour or two in the evenings, and by the time it's nearly finished, you've started discussing other parts of the house.

You mention the two smallest children's rooms aren't really usable for tenants. You show him your plans to knock down the wall between them and create a library or office space.

But this time, John doesn't agree.

"First I'm hearing of this," He leans back in his chair at your table. His arms cross over his chest, legs spreading wide. Even sitting, you see what he's doing. Trying to take a posture that carries authority, to cow you. "Tenants? What about a family?"

You try to steer the conversation back to your plans, to the picture you've sketched. "I'm not planning on having one. So, like I was saying—"

"Why buy a house this big, then? Why spend all this time fixin' it up if you're not planning to honor its legacy?"

The tone of his voice shifts completely, with no trace of the easy, flirty banter that's been your norm for weeks. His words drip with disdain. His brow knits together. Nostrils flaring. He looks genuinely upset. Mystified that you're not going to fill the house with your…your brood.

It's as if your refusal to have children is an affront to him personally. 

It sends a chill down your spine. Instantly, your image of him—this dependable, good-humored man—cracks apart. You glance past him, searching for the right words, and focus on the kitchen instead. The cabinets, the fixtures, the paint. All of it bears his mark now, and it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

The realization settles like a stone in your stomach. You can't keep working with him. Not if your plans for the house, your house, are going to be a problem.

You tell him as much, as gently as possible.

His anger bleeds out of him quickly, melting into embarrassment and shame. His shoulders drop, and he folds into himself in a way that seems almost impossible for someone his size. "Don't know what came over me, darl."

He packs up his tools while apologizing again, both for his outburst and for the unfinished work, and gives you the spare key you lent to him for emergencies. Before he leaves, he asks you not to write a review, not even a positive one, and you agree. Things had been good until now. You don't want to ruin him over this. People have bad days.

With the kitchen functional and nothing too big left on your plate, you cut your losses and decide to finish the work alone.

Progress is slow on your own, of course. One pair of hands, only so many hours after work to chip away at the list after work. Still, time moves faster than you expect. You push through exhaustion, head often swimming, and work late into the evenings. One night, you finish patching the floor and tackle the basement's cracked wall. Only when you get down there, it's already done. Smoothed over perfectly.

You tell yourself John must've fixed it before everything went south. But then you notice other things. Several odd jobs from your list are already complete.

Squeaky door hinges turn silent. The dings and nail holes in the walls, spackled over. The second toilet that kept running starts working correctly. It's partly a relief, like the house is taking care of itself, but also deeply unsettling. You don't remember doing it, you've never sleepwalked or slept-repair in your life, even in your overtired state, and you're still too sore over your falling out to text John and ask if he did it all.

Instead, you decide to take a break. A few days off work, a proper rest. Let the house settle, let yourself breathe. Nothing happens. No floating tools. No ghosts. It's like the house is waiting for you to look away.

Paranoia sets in. You order cameras—indoor and outdoor, enough to cover every angle.

The day they arrive, you barely make it through the door before tearing open the box. But something stops you. Your eyes catch on a strange wooden box sitting on the dining table. It's a shadowbox.

Inside the box is the slat from the front doorframe, the one with the heights and names of the seven kids who grew up here. It's been cut out, perfectly, and framed like an artifact.

Your stomach drops. You scramble to the doorframe and run your hands over it, frantic. The patchwork is seamless, so clean it's like the names never existed.

Then you notice the boots. Tucked in and lined up next to your own pairs. The extra jacket hanging on the hooks.

A shadow falls over you.

You freeze, heart in your throat, and slowly turn with eyes the size of dinner plates. Towering above you, sleeves rolled to his elbows, fists planted on his hips, is John. Grinning.

"Work alright today?" He bends down and pulls you to your feet by your wrist, wrapping you up in an embrace and welcoming you home. He sways slightly with you, like you're dancing, his chest rising and falling against yours. He looks at you with a clear fondness and affection, but there's something off, like a splintering foundation. Stable until you look too close.

You try to push yourself away, palms flat against his chest, but he doesn't let go. "What are—What are you doing here? What are—Why did you do that?" You glance again toward where the measurements used to be.

He chuckles, soft and unbothered, a wistfulness threaded in his words. "Well, we're gonna need the room for our little ones, yeah? Oh, we'll have seven or more, dependin' on what takes. Sliding scale and all that."

At your stunned, horrified silence, he slots a hand into the back pocket of your jeans. He gives your cheek a little squeeze and starts steering you toward the kitchen. The one he built for you.

"C'mon. Lemme tell you all about my plans for us."

[yuujispinkhair]

CHRISTMAS IN THE COUNTRY

Cowboy!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. 800 words. Minors don't interact. Mentions of cigarettes. This drabble is part of my Cowboy!Sukuna series, but you don't need to know the main story to read it. Divider by @/issysh3ll

In the past, Cowboy!Sukuna never joined the annual Christmas tractor parade that all the other farmers and cowboys around your small town participate in. Sukuna thought it was stupid and cheesy, and after all, he had his reputation as the lonesome, bad boy cowboy who was more likely to be the Grinch than Santa!

But that was until you found your way into Sukuna's heart. You moved into his ranch and brought Christmas with you. And now you stand before him with that fucking cute pout on your pretty face and practically beg him,

"Kunaaaa, please you should join! Just think of how happy it makes the little kids to see all the decorated tractors!"

Sukuna huffs at first, while hugging you to his tall body, craving your warmth after he just came back from fixing the fences in those freezing temperatures,

"I don't care about those random kids."

"But you care about me, and I know you want to make me happy, right? And it would make me very happy to join that Christmas parade with you, baby."

Fuck, how could he say no to you when you give him those puppy dog eyes and that sweet smile? Sukuna laughs, grabbing your chin with one hand, and he leans down to bring his face closer to yours, grinning as he whispers against your lips,

"You are not fighting fair, baby."

His lips claim yours in a slow, teasing kiss before Sukuna pulls away again. He cocks his head and tips his cowboy hat,

"Alright, I'll drive to town and run some Christmas errands for you, ma'am."

And you laugh and blow him a kiss, telling him to drive safe just like you always do, always so sweet to him. Always worried about him, wrapping him in your love. Sukuna is already walking towards his truck, lighting a cigarette, when you open the kitchen window to yell after him that you'll cook his favorite dinner while he is away and some Christmas cookies, too. Sukuna wonders if his cheeks hurt from the icy wind blowing in his face or from how much he is smiling.

He drives to the small hardware store you used to work in before you moved into Sukuna's ranch, and he returns to you a few hours later carrying several boxes of fairy lights and LED decorations in various shapes and forms.

You laugh that sweet laugh Sukuna loves so much when you see him,

"Oh my god, Sukuna! I didn't think you'd buy the whole Christmas section!"

"Well, my girl said she wants to participate in the Christmas parade, so I will make damn sure I have the best fucking Christmas tractor there is!"

The left corner of Sukuna's lips twitches, and a second later, he breaks out into laughter, too. He lets the Christmas lights drop to the kitchen floor when you fling yourself at him, and Sukuna wraps a tattooed arm tightly around your waist, pulling you against him, smiling when you get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

Sukuna keeps his word, just like he always does when it comes to you. He spends hours in the barn decorating his old John Deere, wrapping it in fairy lights, and fixing the blinking Santa and reindeer figures to the roof.

Sukuna thinks it looks absolutely horrendous. A big blinking Christmas monstrosity. But then you walk into the barn and gasp and stare at the all-decked-out tractor. Your eyes shine even brighter than the crazy number of fairy lights that Sukuna just attached to his old John Deere. And he thinks to himself that it was all worth it.

Sukuna climbs into the tractor, extending a hand to you, which you take, and he pulls you up and into his lap. You are surrounded by hundreds of blinking fairy lights that cast the inside of the tractor into a colorful, festive light.

Sukuna's arms wrap around you as he presses play on his phone, which is connected to the tractor's radio. The Christmas playlist you shared with him starts playing, filling the inside of the tractor with your favorite Christmas songs.

"Is this what you had in mind, sweetheart?"

Sukuna asks, his smile clearly audible in his low voice. And you turn around so you're straddling Sukuna's lap and look at him, reaching out to cup his tattooed face with your small hands, beaming at him happily,

"Yes, this is even more than I had in mind! It's perfect! Thank you so much! Merry Christmas, baby. I love you."

"I love you, too. Merry Christmas, princess... but there's one more thing."

Sukuna points up at the little mistletoe that he glued to the ceiling earlier and that's dangling above your heads now. You chuckle while Sukuna grins his most charming boyish grin at you, waiting for you to kiss it off his lips with a sweet, long Christmas kiss.

And for the first time in his adult life Sukuna thinks that Christmas is truly magical.

SIGHHHHHHH oh how I missed Cowboy!Sukuna 💗💗 I went to a tractor parade, and of course, all I could think about was Cowboy!Sukuna, so I HAD to write this cute little drabble!! I hope it made you happy, too.

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to all my fellow Sukuna lovers 💗

[queenhunter102]

Damaging Government Property.

I don't know if you have seen the Video on TikTok where the wife had gotten in trouble for 'Damaging Government Property', I.E., she had given her husband a visible hickey, but I sure did. Blurb: Imagine you had just crawled your way into bed, it being the first night with  them being gone on a mission

You had barely climbed into your bed, flopping onto your front, your head hitting the pillow.

RING

RING

Simon 'Ghost' Riley You wonder who could be phoning you at such a dumbass hour; when you check your phone, it says private number, and you sigh, picking it up; it's Price at the other end.

“The Riley Residence” "This is Captain John Price"

You pull back from your phone looking at the number before you put it back to your ear.

"Yeah? Hi John"

"Don't 'Hi John' me, I can't believe that I must talk to YOU of all people, but Don’t Damage Government Property”.

That was all that was said before John hung up the phone, you stared at the phone wondering what that was about, before putting it back on your nightstand and falling asleep cuddling Simon's pillow.

A week later

You are sitting on the very few calls you can get with Simon when you remember the strange call from John.

"Hey Si, I got a question for you," you say, picking at an imaginary lint off the blanket that covered you.

"What's that, babe" came back the gruff reply, the sounds of a base in the background.

"John phoned me like a week ago and told me not to 'Damage Government Property' " you say, the word's damage Government Property sounded unsure and uneven.

There was silence on the line "What?" Said Simon.

You sighed "Yeah, I think he phoned the wrong person, could you talk to him about it”.

"Babe, what time did he phone you?" Simon asked.

"I don't know, like two in the morning" You could practically hear Simon's eye twitch.

"I'm going to kill him for disturbing you at a fucking dumb hour," Simon said as he hung up. Johnny 'Soap' McTavish You lift your phone but are not quite ready to sleep yet. The phone call read as private, and you are confused. You know Johnny won't be allowed to call you yet, but you pick up the call anyway. "Hello, you're calling Soap’s spouse," you say, sounding annoyed; you hear Ghost's tired sigh on the other end. "It's Lieutenant Simon, I know he's your boyfriend--" He said. "Fiancée, you know this, Si. You were there," you say, annoyed that he had addressed you and Johnny wrong. Ghost sighed this time, trying not to bark at you. "Until you and he share the same last name, I don't care," he said, practically growling in your ear. "My point is, I saw that stupid mark you left," He says, sounding annoyed; you scrunch your face in confusion. "What mark?" You say, sounding confused This time, he growled, "The Hickey, you know, the big bruise you gave him." Your face made an awed face, and now that you knew what he was talking about, you sighed into the phone. "I was careful; I made sure." At least you were confident. You knew better than to leave anything visual. "Yeah, well, guess what? We can see it, so do me a favour and don't Damage Government Property." A week later

Your phone began buzzing, it was Johnny. “Johnny! Is everything ok?” you asked, sounding a little worried it wasn’t often that he called you when he was out on a mission. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, Doll. I just found out that Simon phoned you, getting you into trouble for marking me. Honestly, I had my shirt off, and you’re the one in trouble,” he said, sounding pouty. He had gotten you in trouble for something that wasn’t your fault. Captain John Price

You sat in the Rattan Swing on the back porch, looking out to your back garden, your fingers tracing over the letters that John had sent you. You knew it was cheesy, but it made you feel special that he took the time to sit and write to you. Your phone sat off your side as you rested your head on the bars. Your phone began vibrating shaking you out of your fantasy, picking up your phone, answer the call without looking at the caller ID. “Well done, you’ve reached Captain Price. What can I do for you?” you say, your eyes still on the letters. All you heard was heavy breathing before John spoke, “I can’t believe they’re making me get you into trouble for this.” You pulled your phone away from your ear, looked at the number, and found it said ‘Private.’ “John? What’s happening is everything alright?” You ask sitting the letters to the right side of your knee, sitting up on the swing.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just-” He sighs before he speaks again. “Honey, you know before I left…we uh-you-know”, You smile, thinking of when you were lazing around the house, “Yeah? What of it, John?” “You gave me a hickey, and it was seen by one of my Commanding officers, and I need to give you the talk about ‘Damaging Government Property’,” he said, sighing. Well…Don’t damage government property,” he said, hanging up. You rolled your eyes. This was going to be a very long month. A week later “I can’t believe they made me give my own god damned spouse into trouble”, John exhaled. You laughed into the phone. “I know, it’s all you’re talking about in your letters”, you say, as you flicked through the most recent ones, “You still keep those?” he asks, and you smile. “Always.” Alejandro Vargas

You were repeatedly pushing furniture around your shared living room when your phone went off. When you finally reached your phone, you could barely catch the call. “Hello? You’ve reached the annoyed Vargas,” you say, leaning against the couch that was taking up half of the room. “Yeah, it’s me, John. I get you and Alejandro have fun and like to play a little hot and heavy, but not where the rest of us can see it,” John says, sounding a little annoyed. You tilt your head back. “John, I don’t know what you’re on about,” you say. “The Hickey, the one that is a deep purple; it's visible, so here’s the tagline: Don’t damage government property,” he says, huffing as he hangs up the phone. You pull your phone away from your ear as you finally read through your notifications, all from Alejandro, warning you not to pick up any private calls. A week later “I can’t believe you picked up the call,” Alejandro said, annoyed; you giggled into the phone. “He would have kept calling if I didn’t, you know how your captain is” you say, as you lifted the TV onto the TV stand, “Yeah, Yeah, He's a dog with a bone, You better not be re-arranging our flat.” You paused, turning to your phone. “No, never” Kyle Garrick You groaned as you rolled over onto your front, your phone insistently buzzing on the side table; you grumbled as you sat up blindingly, hitting your phone “Hel-lo?” you mumbled. “Hello, it’s John Price”, came the voice over the phone; you made a muffled noise “John? Ky’s Captain?” you answered, your eyes still bleary, trying to adjust to the darkness. “Yes, It’s his captain. I’m calling to discuss the hickey you gave Kyle,” he said, sounding frustrated; your face pinches as you lean over and flick on the light, it blinding you slightly, “Hickey? I didn’t-” you paused as your brain started to wake further “Oh yeah? No, I remember, the night-” you mumbled half out of it. “Ah, Ah, Ah, I don’t want to know, nor do I care. Just don’t damage government property,” he said before he hung up. “I can’t believe I’ve had to make a to all the boys,” he grumbled before the call cut out. A week later “He said what?” Kyle laughed, and you flipped your phone over onto your other shoulder. Yeah, apparently, you’re not the only one,” you said, laughing, as you pulled out the cookies from the oven, the tray clinking on the table. “Oooo, are you making your famous cookies?” came a different voice over the phone, and you rolled your eyes as you hit the speaker. “Yes, Johnny, they are the cookies.”

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See you around, my little loves.

Kissess.

[starzwithapen]

⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑

JOHN DORY / READER ☆ DUET?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

☆summary: Brozone happens to play on the radio, and JD's appalled to find out you're not a fan

☆content: reader is not a pop-troll, reader is gender neutral, lowkey crackfic lmao, established relationship

☆a/n: Silver wrote this one!! And okay we KNOW realistically JD would tell his partner about being in brozone but for the sake of the comedic factor in the fic he's hiding it shshsshshhsbshshsh

⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑

You'd been sitting in the driver's seat, driving Rhonda around [a rare occurrence, but JD indulged you just this once] while John Dory stirred his sugar into his mug, handing you yours with a kiss to your cheek. You nod at him gratefully, looking down at the buttons spread across in front of you, one of them particularly sticking out to you.

“Woah, wait, I didn't know Rhonda had a radio.”

John Dory leans against the back of your seat, arms wrapped around you from behind, “ehh, I don't use it often in case it scares off all the animals.”

He pokes your arm playfully, eyes glancing out the window, “we're pretty far out, though, should be fine to listen to some tunes.”

You insert a random channel number, turning the volume upwards. This one seems to be a host speaking about the weather, so you switch to the next- sounds like a cheesy pop song of some kind, probably a boy band. You snort at the lyrics- you didn't know anyone could fit that many synonyms of “girl” into one song.

You switch onto the next channel without catching John Dory's wide, shit-eating grin, and the immediate way his face practically crumples apart, “wuh- hey, what's wrong with that last song? It was really good.”

“Okay, I know you're a pop-troll,” you start, trying to find a channel with your preferred music, “but you have to remember I'm not. That stuff hurts my ears.”

John Dory leans backwards, arms crossing around his chest, “Okay, yeah, you don't like pop music, but why that song specifically? I was really jamming out to it, y'know.” He makes that smug smile of his that normally has your cheeks heating, “guy's a lyrical genius if you ask me.”

You stare at him, unimpressed, because he's got to be joking if he thinks that song has deep lyrics.

“JD, he just rhymed baby with baby. Three times in a row. Within the same chorus.”

“Hey, it's hard to think of rhymes that don't throw off the choreo, okay?” He points an accusing finger in your direction before pausing, forcing a nonchalant pose and pursing his lips, “Or- uh, or so I've heard.”

“Yeah, yeah, that's what you pop-trolls always say. I think that guy just needs to pick up a dictionary every once in a while.”

You don't actually care about the song that much, but seeing John Dory get this riled up over it is funny enough for you to go further,

“I bet you I could write a better song by the end of the week than that guy has his whole career.”

John Dory's grin turns wolfish, and oh boy, you should've known better than to try and challenge him, even jokingly,

“Oh you bet, do you? We'll see about that.”

—-------------------

This whole thing was going. Uh. Badly.

Your conversation had escalated into another one of your bets, which you surprisingly lose more often than not, most likely because you bite off more than you can chew. John Dory's unfortunately very aware of this, and throws you bait whenever he can. This time was no different. Winner gets one request for the loser.

You are not a song-writer by any means. You're a troll, yes, trolls sing and dance! But you don't write songs! The most experience you have with rhyming is a shitty poem you made as a teenager that never saw the light of day.

You'd started with listening to more of Brozone's music, and okay, you have to admit, some of their songs were actually really good okay. You'd caught yourself humming them more than once throughout the day, and John Dory always gives you that smug look from your peripherals before leaning in to kiss you senseless. He knew you were coming around to them and it was humiliating, and he was also concerningly elated by it.

While listening you've come to realise the lead singer sounds oddly similar to John Dory, just with a higher pitch and none of that raspiness. Like, freakishly similar. It's had you thinking John Dory's calling for you when he's just sound asleep, and the fact you misheard Brozone's “baby” or “honey” as JD is frankly embarrassing.

You groan and slump against the couch, the pen tumbling out your hand and clattering onto the ground below. Okay, you had to admit, this was really difficult. You were suddenly gaining so much more respect for boy bands.

You'd wanted to use this ridiculous bet as an opportunity to show off, or…even bring you and JD closer together- you know how important music is to him, so getting to write him a love song under the guise of a bet? It's a perfect chance handed to you on a silver platter!

But you just can't seem to think of the words- it's already been a week and so far you've written, what? 4 verses? And they all sucked. You wanted it to mean something- you wanted it to sound poetic and elegant and meaningful all at once, unlike those silly songs on the radio, but it just wouldn't work out!

You muffle a frustrated shout into your hands, pulling them away from your face when you hear footsteps, looking up to see John Dory towering over you.

“You give up yet?” His smile is adorable infuriating to look at, so you cast your gaze aside, huffing and grabbing your pen off the floor.

“No, ‘course not.”

He hums, patient for you to admit defeat, trying to take a peek at your notebook from up above, though you're not too worried since he can't read upside down [or at all, you've come to suspect].

“Okay, fine, I give up. You win.”

John Dory lets out a ‘whoop!’ and throws a fist upwards in celebration, smile so wide you're afraid he'll split his face apart.

You sigh, “Okay, hit me with it, I'm doing the dishes for a full week? Scrubbing Rhonda's windows?”

“Sing a duet with me.”

“This is so unfair, you know I hate doing the dishes- wait- huh?”

John Dory looks at you with a hopeful gleam in his eyes, holding his palm out for you to take, “Sing a duet with me. C'mon, don't think I haven't seen you swaying to my- uh, ahem, Brozone's music the past few days.”

He recovers quickly from his slip-up, tugging you upwards once you take his hand. He carefully starts up his record player, and you're surprised to find you recognise the song immediately, since it'd become a favourite of yours this past week.

“You know this one?” JD grins in your direction, one hand on your waist and the other on your shoulder, his touch gentle yet firm, “think I've heard you hum it a few too many times during breakfast.”

The song starts off slow, as does your dancing, the both of you simply swaying together- you don't exactly…dance often, so your movements are clumsy while his are self-assured.

The lyrics are cheesy, all about young teenage love, but…they make you feel giddy, your steps becoming lighter, your heart fluttering about. And, well, the song may not have deep mind-blowing lyrics, but you think that's the point of it. It's just meant to be fun, have your blood pumping and your heart soaring.

“We're grown adults, this song is for highschoolers.” You say, though your smile is fonder this time. John Dory chuckles and spins you around in his arms, making your head spin in more ways than one, your feet tripping up over his, “C’mon, live a little! Who says we can't be young and free in our mid-thirties?”

You stumble in place, trying to blink the dizziness out your eyes.

“JD, I'm gonna knock you out.” You try your best to grumble, but it only comes out flustered with how hot your cheeks are.

He smirks, twirling you around, “You've already knocked me-” his foot slides under yours, and you fall down into his arms with a yelp as he catches you in a perfect dip- “off my feet.”

Just before you can spew another insult at him for catching you off-gaurd like this, he leans in to kiss you, lips melding against yours sweetly. You melt into it, his arms secured around you so you don't fall, the music fading into background noise in your mind. You know your voice will be hoarse from singing and your muscles sore from dancing by the end of the night, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑

Would be superr cool if you left feedback if you enjoyed it's super helpful and much appreciated ! this guy is so cringefail I NEED HIM. -silver

[blakeswritingimagines]

Having A Crush On You

Quinn Hughes: When he has a crush on you, he's usually more shy, soft-spoken, and gentle around you. He tends to be more affectionate with you and finds ways to spend time with you. He is more observant of your likes and dislikes, and will often do small things to make you happy. He is also more protective of you and enjoys taking care of you.

Jack Hughes: He's gonna want to spend all his time around and with you as much as he can, he’ll get flustered around you alot too. He likes to hold your hand and he likes when you lean your head on his shoulder. He's protective over you and will do anything for your well-being or to make you happy. He's very attentive to you too and he likes spoiling you with gifts and compliments.

Luke Hughes: He gets really shy and blushes easily around you, and he will probably stutter at least once while trying to speak to you. But he's also really sweet to you, like getting you small gifts or just always being there to cheer you up when you’re having a rough time.

Nico Hischier: He would be really shy around you. He would try to be sweet and try to do nice things for you and just in general, be really flustered and sweet. When he's crushing on you he will be really attentive and likes to get you little gifts and make sure you always know he's there for you, and he's very affectionate.

Timo Meier: He would buy you flowers every day to show you how much he appreciates you. And, he would take every chance he got to tell you you're beautiful and how much you mean to him. He would make you feel like the most important person in the world to him because you truly would be.

John Marino: He would compliment you every moment he saw you. He would take you out on dates to places that you like, and he would be so happy to see your smiling face. He would make you feel so important, no matter what.

Kirby Dach: When he has a crush on someone, he tends to get really nervous around you. He wants to make sure he says the right thing, without looking like a fool. He will probably compliment you, but also tease you about random things. He will look for ways to be around you. When you are in the room, he will probably look in your direction more often. He will do his best to make you laugh and smile.

Juraj Slafkovsky: He goes out of his way to make you happy and comfortable. If you're sad he'll do his best to make you smile or just be there for comfort, if you're mad at something he'll stand up for you, and he'll remember little things you say.

Arber Xhekaj: With a crush, he often becomes a bit shy and nervous around the person he is interested in. He finds himself paying extra attention to what you say and do, and he can become easily distracted by your presence. He might find himself seeking out reasons to spend time with you and may feel a sense of butterflies in his stomach when you are together. At times, he might be extra flirty and playful, trying to impress you with his charm.

Cole Caufield: He tends to be shy but once he gets comfortable he starts making little jokes to test your sense of humor and makes you laugh. And once he gets really comfortable he starts flirting with you and gives you a few compliments here and there till he finally grows the balls to ask you out on a date.

Trevor Zegras: He's a huge softie, would buy you flowers and do all the cheesy stuff to make you laugh like sing stupid love songs in the store when you're shopping or make you silly cards every other day or do a romantic dinner with all your favorite food, and of course, he would be all over you 24/7.

Jamie Drysdale: His face would become red when talking to you and being around you. He would feel extremely nervous. He would feel butterflies in his stomach. He also would have a strong desire to be around you. He would start to have a small crush which would turn into a massive crush quickly.

[08melancholie]

Humor me for a moment

What do you think each gang members favorite shows would be if they were from this century? Like modern shows and stuff?

OOOH this is very interesting, and I got a few in mind :)

some are more accurate maybe, some had to be mustered up to be filled in since I had no ideas D:

the guys:

Dutch — Hear me out; fashion shows. This man is first in line for the TV remote when theres a Victoria's Secret runway on one of the channels. That, or those "Wear or Tear" shows. He becomes a true fashionista.

Arthur — I feel, same with Charles, he'd be into watching Bear Grylls surviving in the wild. I don't know how to explain this one tbh, it just sounds right to me.

John — I really struggled with this one, honestly. I could NOT think of one thing he would watch. Anyhow, Abigail doesn't let him watch too much of it, but he'll also tune in when theres a football match OR, even better; baseball. I feel like he's a baseball type guy.

Javier — Another hear me out; Spanish cooking shows. This I have literally no explanation for, it came to me and I instantly said 'oh, YES' aloud. So, I'm sticking with it.

Micah — Would be big into sport channels, football and especially big on ice hockey. Let's be honest, he's literally a dad on Sunday afternoons but like, every day of the week, my little couch potato. His main thing would be ice hockey and I stand firm by that.

Lenny — Just a hunch here, but I think Lenny would like crime shows. Whether it's something like Criminal Minds or actual criminal cases and how they were solved, he'd be very much interested in that.

Sean — LOVES to watch people wrestle. He's either laughing about someone getting their shit handed to them or screaming at the TV for one of the people to punch harder.

Bill — Dog shows!! He loves those dog competitions where people train their dogs to run around and complete the courses, always cheers a certain dog on like it's his own and like he's getting the prize money.

Hosea — Chess competitions. I also don't know how to explain this one much, but I feel like he'd enjoy learning to play/to get better at chess through watching others play it, making little notes on a paper.

Strauss — Gotta be those old people Bingo channels with like, live games. He tried making his own bingo cards and literally nobody wanted to play with him because they said it was boring—and that he did it all wrong :( Otherwise peepaw loves that stuff.

Josiah — He loves watching "[Country]'s Got Talent", any country really. As soon as he sees a magician come up, he instantly locks in to see if he knows the trick that person is trying to do, and he especially loves the dangerous stunt compilations on Youtube. Rewatches them on a daily.

Reverend — Mostly online church services and those live broadcasts of it. If not that, which he does daily imo, it'll be some drug documentary. (struggled with this one D:)

Charles — National Geographic Documentaries; do I need say more? It's how he mostly learns about wildlife, if you don't count books. That, or I feel like he'd enjoy watching Bear Grylls surviving in the wilderness.

Jack — Honorable mention for Jack, the Kratt Brothers.

the girlies:

Sadie — She's also into crime shows, and especially true crime. You can't watch it with her because she loves to comment on EVERYTHING happening in the show, stuff like calling the killers bastards and finding what the clues the police find mean before the people in the show do sometimes.

Tilly — I was unsure of this at first, but I feel like she'd enjoy either cooking or gardening shows, but I'm more leaning to the latter. Likes to learn about all the different plants, sometimes writes information down in case she wants to plant something herself.

Mary-Beth — You know she'd be big into drama series and all the different reality TV shows. I swear, she'd literally LOVE Croatian drama shows and series so much, on the edge of her seat the entire time, literally. That, or she loves cheesy romances, of course.

Karen — I don't know if you guys have this, but we have a show which roughly translates to "Marriage at first", where two people get married at first sight. You can say yes or no at the altar after you see them for the first time, and the show leads you through the upcoming two-three weeks before the wedding. She'd love that, would be judging the wedding dresses the women pick the entire time.

Molly — Watches sickly sweet romcoms to heal her poor, broken heart. Good for her. :(

Abigail — Watches whatever Jack wants to watch mostly, but if she's got free time to watch something herself, she'll mostly use drama shows as background noise. Somehow, I feel like she isn't big on watching TV, so like myself basically.

Susan — She reminds me so much of my grandma that I have to say Turkish drama shows. My grandma has to be in bed by 8pm sharp with her shows, and that is exactly how I see Susan😭

Thank you for this lovely ask, I had fun with it <3

[starsexplodeatnight]

Cod Guys x Reader!

~First time you’re intimate~

Minors do not engage! You are not fucking wanted here! Go be a kid while you still can! You’ll have 30 chasing at your heels before you know it.

I always start with Price:

3 months into your relationship

M’fucker puts on divorced dad rock. Because he’s not had a lot of time for romance in the past- er decade or so- shut up. He’s a bit… rusty? No, his moves are solid. He’s just a bit of a time capsule from when he was in his twenties and Mr smooth.

What do you mean ‘Hinders’ Lips of an Angel is ‘divorced dad rock’ what the hell’s that mean?

He’ll have planned this sweet, romantic, night for the both of you. He made dinner, look at him: he’s a provider. You try not to laugh but, it’s cute how he’s trying and in a way? He’s succeeding.

Just because you’re onto his tricks doesn’t mean they’re not working.

Then, he puts on his ‘mood music’ he used to put on in the past when he was romancing the ~ladies~ and oh- your lips purse in your best attempt at not giggling. He’s being so cute and you don’t want to pop his bubble.

He sees it though, as he hands you a glass of wine. “Somethin’ wrong bird?” His confidence is there, a little smirk. He wants to know what’s so funny. You shake your head, eyes cast to the side, as you take a sip of wine.

“Mmmmm- nothing, nothing.” He chuckles and sits down next to you, still acting so smooth. “Come on, out with it luv.” And he leans in close.

He’s so handsome…

Then ‘Let her cry’ by Hootie and the Blowfish comes on and you nearly shoot wine out your nose, turning away from him, choking as you try not to laugh.

He, surprised, helps you calm down, patting your back to help you as you cough. “What’s the matter with you? You makin’ fun of me luv?” He cooed, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You’re embarrassed with yourself. “Oh John… this is so sweet, very romantic.”

“But?” “You need to turn off the divorced dad rock sweet pea, I’m so sorry.” You say with an apologetic wince. “Divorce dad rock? I-“ He looks at his speakers, then back at you. “The bloody hell is that?”

“Nothing we need to discuss right now.” And you reach over, turning it off yourself. He shook his head, “s’long as you’re happy luv.” And he leans in, pressing his nose against yours as he gives you a sweet kiss. Simultaneously pushing you back to lay against the couch….

Next is Soap!:

This dork is smooth, it’s not fair.

Rough housing after you two come home from a cute dinner date, he’s got you by the waist from behind. He’s giving your neck those dramatic kisses, that are so fucking ticklish. You two are so giggly and stupid and you! And neither of you are even drunk… just… happy.

Both of you pause, his chest against your back as you both try and breathe. Get air back in your lungs…. His face tucks in your neck, both of you staring off into space. Both thinking about the same thing but both waiting for the other to say something first.

It’s been about 1 month of dating and you’d both hadn’t done anything yet, just getting to know each other before anything sexual happened. And it’s been *fun.*

He starts the kisses on your neck again, a lot less dramatic and much more sensual. His arms still locked ‘round your waist.

“S’this okay?” You melt a bit into his arms. “Yes.”

He groans, breathing in deeply and gave your ass a deep strong hump that completely jolts you forward. That made your face so fucking hot.

He puts on ‘your body is a wonderland’ by John Mayer and unlike Price? It works. He’s just- it works! It’s cheesy but, unlike Price who’s trying to have a deep, romantic, moment and chose wrong. Soap is giggly, playful and cheeky during sex.

He’s only ‘serious’ when he’s not in a good headspace, like after a long grueling mission… the rest of the time?it’s so giggly and stupid.

Gaz my darling!:

It’s a curated experience that makes you feel like a princess…. With an impending feeling of being the princess of a porn flick.

Because! As romantic, sweet and charming as he is: he’s still a cheeky fucking shit. Boyish charming and sexy aren’t supposed to mix! … right!?

When you two talk about taking the next step and having sex? He grins his pretty grin and bites his lip before kissing your cheek and darting off to ‘plan’

“Wear something pretty luv’” He called to tell you. The look on his face when you do show up dressed all pretty? You’d think you’d hung the stars in the sky…

Hands you flowers, said he got them from this sweet shop his Captain’s wife works at. They’re beautiful… so much thought and care…

That’s what happens the entire night. So much thought and care and effort has been put into this that it makes you teary eyed. He orders for you at the restaurant, orders something from the pastry case to take home and god-

You get back to your apartment and, it’s lit up with fairy lights. He doesn’t do the typical roses and candles, no. Fairy lights, diffuser with warm vanilla and champagne- yeah it’s time to be sweet on him. You’d think he was going to propose or something!!!

Partners give and take. He romanced the hell out of you and made you feel special? Your turn now. He’s going to take everything you give him, even if he’s trembling.

“Love you Kyle.” “Love you too lovie…”

Classical covers of pop songs in the back… it’s romantic and sweet not too giggly not too serious…

Ghost!:

As much as much as Mr Big and Bad wants to pound your ass into the mattress and crack the wall with your headboard? He… he has issues lovie.

He takes the longest to have sex. Why? His trauma. One second he’s horny as hell rabbiting his hips into your butt then the other he does NOT feel like being touched. He feels bad, feels like he’s cheating you out of something but… how can he apologize for something out of his control?

You two have a talk about it because Simon, as much as he hates talking? He doesn’t want to lose a sweetie like you so he grunts out a few words to explain himself. You piece it together and well, what kind of partner would you be if you didn’t have his best interests at heart.

You understand. This man has trudged through hell over broken glass with no shoes. You can handle yourself in private moments until he’s worked through his problems. As long as he promises to work on them. No more dragging his feet in hesitation.

He needs to work on himself, the thought of being able to take that step with you? That helps. He doesn’t tell his therapist that even when the therapist asks him why he’s suddenly taking this seriously and booking appointments properly instead of going to just the mandatory monthly.

He waits until you’re having fun one night, he can hear the ‘bzzz’ of the toy and he creeps in the room. Lays on the bed on his belly between your legs and takes it away from you. Sets it aside. “This okay?”

Oh, it’s more than okay.

The kids in your preschool ask you why you’re limping. Oh look! Uh- we’re finger painting today!

Another one for inappropriate music choice except he doesn’t change it. He tries to nail you to the beat of ‘in the end’ by Linkin Park… he takes you up on your challenge and says yeah? I can change your mind!

[whirlwindimagines]

Would be a terrible shame if someone were to ask for more of reader taking care of Vash and telling him how beautiful and amazing he is.

It would be :) well if someone gotta and I guess it’s gonna be me! I like writing about established relationships as well so here this! And yes I like cheesy nicknames lol <3 I also wrote this while watching John Wick lol two very different vibes lol

'I'll be your shelter'

Vash x Reader

Your staring how could you not? Vash was sitting across from you at the small table in the hotel room the two of you were sharing, he was taking apart his gun. You should be doing something productive, but you can’t keep your eyes off of him. 

Vash must have noticed your staring because he looks up at you and you can see the questioning look in his eyes, you just smile which causes him to blush. “What?” He squeaks out, you tilt your head thinking over your response. You smirk, you know he’s been a little down on himself and well you want to change that, you love him so much. 

“Just admiring my pretty boy” the sentience has the desired effect you watch in delight when his whole face goes impossibly red and he starts to stutter over his words. You don’t let him get a word in as reach across the table grabbing his hands in yours

You rub your thumbs over his knuckles, “why don’t you take a break, let me take care of you please.” You beg, pouting at him, “please don’t tease me” he whines, and you frown.

“I’m not, it’s been a rough couple of days for the both of us and we’ll I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you do.” And you really mean it, you know Vash can be weird about receiving compliments, so you're trying to be sincere as possible. 

His hands tremble slightly, “I feel like I should be taking care of you.” He admits quietly, you bring his hands up to your face placing a kiss on his knuckles, “You already do, I don’t need anything else.” You drop his hands to stand and walk around the table so you're at his side, he glances at you shyly.

You grab his chin forcing him to look up at you, “Vash, I love you very much, but you got to stop getting lost in that head of yours.” You say using your other hand to gently tap his forehead, he relaxes in your hold and you consider that a win. 

Moving to sit in his lap, you can hear him take a sharp intake of breath, wrapping your arms around his neck you press a kiss to his cheek. He wraps his arms around your waist and you smile. Resting your cheek on top of his head, “I love you too.” He whispers, you bring one of your hands up to brush through his hair scratching gently at his undercut. 

Pressing a kiss to his temple you smile contently, “I know Sunshine, how lucky am I to be sitting in the lap of the prettiest boy ever” you're teasing him now, and he groans, burying his face in your shoulder.

“Don’t get all shy on me now baby.” His grip tightens on you as he lets out a whine, “you’re enjoying this too much.” You laugh cupping his face with your hands so you can bring his face closer to yours. Squishing his cheeks together you kiss his lips, pulling back with a pleased ‘hum’

“Of course, I am, it’s you.” You reply eyes softening as he blushes, and you touch your forehead to his. Your arms settled back around his neck. Closing your eyes when you feel his hands move from your waist, trailing up your sides, over your shoulders and neck, and finally resting them on your face.

You open your eyes when you feel Vash cup your face, your breath catches in your throat at the soft look he’s giving you, now it’s your turn to blush as he pulls you in for another kiss. Pulling away with a light gasp as he pulls your body closer to his, “now you’re making me blush” you whisper against his lips. 

“And here I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you.” You continue with a pout, as he moves his hands from your face to your sides giving you a squeeze that makes you laugh. You put your hands on his chest to shove him back a bit. 

Vash can only look at you with wide eyes, so amazed by you and everything you do. And how you continue to stay by his side and try to make him feel better no matter what. He only wishes he could do more for you, 

He’s lost in thought again, but is brought back when your gentle hands run through his hair, “where’d you go?” You ask softly, “nowhere I’m right here.” He answers hugging you tightly too him, dropping a kiss on top of his head, you hold him just as tightly. You glance at the table where his gun is still in pieces, and you sigh, “you should probably put that back together.” 

He doesn’t answer, burying his face into the crook of your neck, “I’d rather stay like this.” He presses a kiss to your neck after he says this and it makes your heart skip a beat, you can’t bear to deny him such a simple pleasure, “alright handsome, as long as you need.” 

“Oh, now I’m handsome?” He teases, you roll your eyes he lets out a yelp when you pinch and pull his cheek, he pulls his head back to look at you leaning in you kiss the cheek you just pinched, and then just because you can you give a kiss to his beauty mark. “Yes, a very pretty handsome big baby, that I love very much and that I want to give lots of kisses to” your smile widens as he blushes a bright red.

“Do you want me to continue?” You tease, “I think I get your point!” He says leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes, you just give a soft laugh. Patting his face lightly with your hand, he turns his blue gaze on you. “I know I like to tease you, but I really do love you, Vash.” You know you are blushing and you are not able to hold his gaze for long, but he doesn’t let you look away his hands reaching out quickly to grab your face. 

Vash’s eyes are watering, God you love your crybaby. “Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you Stardust.” Giving Vash another kiss on the lips, you smile when you pull back. “Not know your worth that’s for sure.” He just kisses you, and you happily lean into the kiss as well. You’ll probably spend the rest of the night like this, but you really don’t mind how could you, there’s nowhere you’d rather be.

[auyuyu006]

Johnshi HCs

I'm sorry most of these aren't explicitly romantic I just have so many HCs about the two of them it's driving me crazy.

Johnny holds Kenshi by the waist, Kenshi holds Johnny by the shoulder or the bicep. After some time Kenshi starts to go for his hand instead.

Johnny is on his phone all of the time. Kenshi will either avoid the internet for a week or plays chess on the computer at the kitchen table for a day straight without talking to anyone (secretly uses Sento for this).

Kenshi has good spirits (literally) when it comes to his blindness, but can get very defensive when others pity him for it. Johnny is the only other person he will let touch his blindfold, take it off, or wash it.

Kenshi doesn't love the name "Johnny Cage" and thinks that "John Carlton" suits him. Johnny thinks that it sounds like an "old man's name"

Kenshi would visit Johnny on set sometimes but not say or do anything but sit in the background and watch him in silence until he was done.

Speaking of that- Kenshi had a good time filming in Outworld for Johnny's movie (made him feel like an action hero), but absolutely refused to watch the parts he was in.

Kenshi thought Johnny's movies were mostly cheesy before and after meeting him. However, he ended up rewatching all of them and got excited when there was news he got cast for a new one (before they started to officially date).

Johnny was a pretty good student growing up who made A's and B's as per expectations of his parents but hated school because he got picked on. He got into a decent university where he ended up falling in love with physics. He accidentally became famous around the time he was 20 (maybe he got street casted and went viral?) and had to balance acting with school to get his pHD. He is that school's most famous alumni.

Kenshi was mostly homeschooled by his parents and did not show much attention in academics in his youth due to his intense upbringing in the yakuza. This is something that he regrets but accepts that it wasn't really his choice to begin with. However he is quite knowledgable, knows broadly about history and literature, and can speak multiple languages (Japanese, Chinese, Korean, English, Spanish). He also learns braille relatively fast after losing eyesight.

Kenshi thinks it's so hot that Johnny has a pHD but also thinks its so strange he doesn't do anything with it. (It's a backup plan so he can write textbooks if his career tanks)

Johnny is great at drawing due to it being a hobby growing up stemming from him being a major comic book fan. Kenshi isn't very artistic however used to be able to do mediocre calligraphy (a skill he learned from his parents) before he became blind.

Kenshi breaking into Cage Mansion the second Cris left was admittedly pretty awkward for him (but he was too distracted by Sento to rly care).

Kenshi tries to not let it get to him, but he is saddened by the fact he cannot read properly anymore. Johnny tries to support him by buying him every audiobook in every language he understands. Kenshi will sometimes ask Johnny to read to him mostly because he loves the sound of his voice.

At first, Kenshi tried to get Sento to help him with daily tasks (cooking, cleaning, etc.), but after talking to Kuai Liang he tries not to rely on Sento on anything non-kombat related.

Kenshi has a slight lisp (I'm sorryyyy this isn't rly a hc but you can hear it in his intro dialogues he still sounds like a badass tho i think it's super cute thank god for Vic Chao)

Johnny makes their home a "smart home" a.k.a 30 Alexas in every room of their place, and a Samsung fridge he can live tweet from while making green juice.

Kenshi sometimes used to drive with Sento in the back seat and got arrested for it one time. Now he gets told off by Johnny for it every time he tries it again.

Kenshi will only drink milky coffee (lattes, cappuccinos, etc.) and prefers tea. Johnny hates coffee and tea and pounds red bull in the morning.

Kenshi used to care a lot about his personal style and mostly only wore suits and dress attire. After losing his eyesight, he didn't care as much anymore and just focused on wearing things that were comfortable (sweatpants, sweaters)

Johnny buys Kenshi soft fluffy things to wear all the time. Kenshi always says it's unnecessary but ends up wearing it anyway.

In MK1 Johnny is 32, and Kenshi is 39 (I like the idea of Kenshi being old it just makes sense to me). It both amuses and horrifies Kenshi that he's dating a white man 7 yrs his junior.

Johnny calls him "old man Takahashi" and Kenshi just goes along with it and says "get off my lawn you punk" or something LOL

I think Kenshi was more of the brawny "tough guy" of the yakuza than the suave, seductive type. He has more of an awkward and stony personality. And the fact that he was desperate to get out makes me think he wouldn't entertain the "flirty" role of the job. (a.k.a Kenshi is BAD at flirting unlike a certain someone)

Johnny sometimes helps Kenshis clunky azz samurai gear on before he engages in kombat. Johnny is also the reason Kenshi sometimes gives up and just wears a suit.

Kenshi shops like an old Asian dad. LOVES Costco, will eat all of the samples. Will buy everything on sale even if he doesn't need it. Will not take Johnny with him because his megastardom ruins the peace of being unrecognized. Has taken Raiden with him though. Will use Johnny's credit card. Johnny is dismayed that he hasn't taken a liking to Erewhon and Whole Foods

When Johnny isn't there with him at night Kenshi will play his movies and fall asleep to the sound of his voice

Kenshi will have sex with the blindfold on. He will fall asleep next to Johnny with it off.

Kenshi doesn't like sleeping with the blindfold on, but was worried it would scare or disgust Johnny in some way. It doesn't and it never did. In fact, Johnny appreciates the intimacy that it creates.

[pilfappreciator]

floyd with a bold and flirty husb male reader headcanons <333

Mans was literally tortured and almost died. LET HIM HAVE A HUBBY I SAY!!

Floyd x Reader: just an emo and his husband

Includes: Male! Reader, fluff, slight angst, depictions of marriage/domesticity, LOTS of down bad behavior (mostly on Reader's end), mentioned John Dory

💔 You guys are literally married, so chances are Floyd cares for you deeply. He's been to hell and back in the past few years so finally having someone in his life who so easily helps ease that pain by just... existing in his general area??

💔 But you're not some rabid fan who paid a fortune just to come meet him backstage so he could sign a poster. You're his HUSBAND. The two of you have HISTORY. Like he actually MARRIED your ass... there was a wedding and vows and EVERYTHING!!

💔 He's more grateful than you'll ever know <33

💔 With that being said, this man definitely gets flustered whenever you start putting the moves on him

💔 Not to say he doesn't know how to be suave and charming himself, don't get me wrong! He was in a super popular boy band back in the day, so obviously he's got SOME semblance of game going on (definitely feel like Bruce tried to teach his brothers how to bag hotties when they were younger ajshjakaak—)

💔 So yeah, he's obviously gonna react differently whenever you're the one giving him compliments lol

💔 If you're being more like? Playfully flirty?? Like as in you're coming over and leaning up against the wall beside him, giving him appreciative glances and flirting as if you've never met before???

💔 He's either gonna match your energy and reciprocate, or just sigh and roll his eyes

💔 "Hey sexy, come here often?" *bites lip*

"Please stop blocking the door to the bathroom 🙄"

💔 He'll act like he hates it he does not

💔 But he DOES hate if you smack his ass tho okay DO NOT DO IT!! He'll start having flashbacks from his Brozone days (cough cough John Dory cough cough)

💔 HOWEVER!!! If you're very genuine in your flirting? Like if you're constantly waxing poetic about how he's the most beautiful man to exist, or he catches you staring adoringly when he's trying to have a conversation with you, or he wakes up one morning to find you with the softest look in your eyes as you tell him how lucky you are to have him and how you could never be more grateful to have met????

💔 This man is turning the same shade of his hair VERY QUICKLY ALSDHLKAJDS (he might require medical attention ://)

💔 If you wanna fluster this man even more? Flirt with him in public

💔 NO CUZ LIKE?? He'll tolerate your bad pickup lines and cheesy romantic gestures in the comfort of your shared home no problem, but if you pull ANY of that shit where OTHER TROLLS CAN SEE????

💔 Screw Velvet and Veneer, call him pookie bear around any of his brothers and you're gonna be writing his obituary cuz this man WILL DIE

💔 But if you smack is ass at the farmers market you ARE getting divorced ://

💔 I feel like after the whole "being imprisoned in a diamond prison and regularly getting the life siphoned outta you for who knows how long" situation, Floyd becomes a little touch starved

💔 Maybe not in a strong sense (COUGH COUGH John Dory COUGH COUGH), but any sorta non-harmful touch definitely starts to hit different after you've been tortured for a period of time

💔 As his husband, you have a duty to hug/cuddle/caress this man as much as possible okay THAT IS NON-NEGOTIABLE!! Gently wrap your arms around him from behind as he's washing dishes, nuzzle his face when you're going to bed, rub your thumb against the back of his palm whenever you're holding hands, ANYTHING!!! He will melt <33

AHHHHH MY FAVORITE EMO!! THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPT ANON THIS WAS SO CUTEE!! Floyd literally DIED in the movie okay, he deserves a husband to do troll taxes with 🥺

[juvenillia]

~ not so bad ~ John 'Soap' MacTavish x fem!reader [fluff/secret santa]

a/n: as some of you might know, @bunnyreaper did organise a secret santa, and she did so much for this lil project, and for me in general over the past weeks that I just wanted to write her a lil' thing myself. So this is my way to say thank you for everything to my favourite Sergeant. I love you🩶 (and yes I had to include myself somehow, I'm sorry)

wordcount: 1.5k

》Master Post《

It was too noisy. Literally too cheerful. Everyone's chatting, reddened cheeks from either the alcohol or from the bitter cold outside. The door swung open many times letting breezes of said cold cool the area for mere seconds. The small place was flooded by people. Cheesy Christmas songs were blasting through the speakers and everyone in that God damn pub screamed their lyrics at the top of their lungs. Everyone except you.

You were seated in one of the separate loungings, an already empty glass sitting in front of you. You didn't want to be here, but your friend literally dragged you out of your apartment. How could you even deny her that wish? It was a pub near the local military base, a pub she frequented for the past months very often and you knew there was only one reason: A guy, who she had mentioned a few times before and was completely smitten by.

So how could you decline when she literally begged you to go with her on Christmas eve? You were too curious to catch a glimpse of the man that stole your friend’s heart. Unfortunately, this curiosity now led you to sitting on a couch in that overfilled pub, while your friend was shamelessly flirting with said man. Of course, you were a bit annoyed because she left you all on yourself, but seeing her beaming with happiness made your heart melt again. You couldn’t stay mad at her for too long.

“It's Christmas, you can't stay at home for yourself, bun! And who knows, maybe there’s a Christmas miracle going to happen.” You recall the voice from your friend Florence as she literally talked you into joining her, and for the sunshine nature she was, you gave in. It wasn't as annoying as you imagined it, at least a good amount of alcohol was already running through your veins while watching one of your closest friends having the time of her life. But you couldn't help it and wished you stayed at home. Well she tried to pull you onto the dance floor a few times, tried to invite you in their circle introducing you to Simon, tried everything to keep you entertained, but you had no interest in it. You rather stayed seated here, a glass of your favorite drink in one hand and your eyes pinned onto your friend trying to push the ongoing fling to the next level, and of course making sure this Simon guy treated her properly.

“Nae a holiday person. Eh?” A husky voice caught your attention and a man took the place across from you, a glass of whiskey in his hand which was now settled on the table. He wore one of the ugliest Christmas sweaters you’ve ever seen, but the smile on his lips made up to it.

“You could say so.” Usually you wouldn't be interested in a conversation with a random guy that dared to infiltrate your space like him, spreading his legs out beneath the table and almost bumping his feet into yours. But something about this stranger caught your interest.

“Aye, tell me lass, Scrooge or Grinch?” He raised his brows in a teasing manner while leaning his ellbow onto the table and placing his head into his huge calloused palm. You couldn't help it and star at the scar at his chin before your eyes trailed upwards to this mischievous grin, further upwards to his crystal blue eyes. They held a glimpse of coquetry but also genius interest.

You couldn't suppress a sweet smile at his question, while your hand tried to cover it in a polite manner. The man in front of you was faster. Catching your hand before you could even hide your smile. “Dinnea that, hen. Yer laugh is bonnie.” The teasing tone in his voice was replaced with a sincere and honest intention.

“Both hated humans rather than Christmas.” Your own voice held a smug tone while your eyes were pinned on his. You haven't even noticed that he scooted closer, while still keeping your hand in his. “But both are close, though.”

He pulled your hand up to place a slight kiss onto your knuckles. You could've missed it by the way you were still mesmerized by his baby blues. “Hope ‘m nae one of those then.” His thumb brushed over the spot his lips just left. “‘m John, but friends call me Johnny.”

“Olivia, but friends call me bunny.” You could've sworn that there were way too many people in here, the room temperature got way too high by now. But in reality it was just the alcohol in your system. Definitely not the hot Scotsman next to you, who's thigh was now leaned against yours. You could witness your friend leaving the pub with the behemoth of a man from the side view of your eyes, but you couldn't care less. She Was old enough to decide what's best for her, and right now you decided it was best for you to ignore it. Keeping all of your focus on the charming man.

“Mind if I call ye bonnie instead?” He leaned a bit further into the couch while he eyed you up from top to bottom, well as much as the table allowed him to. As a response you just nodded your head, not able to respond to him properly. Eventually, the heat on your cheeks wasn't from the alcohol nor from the crowded place. Maybe it was indeed because of Johnny. His hand stroked a strain of curly hair behind your ear. “Let me buy ye another drink, bonnie.” It wasn't a request as before, he was already on his way to the bar to get you the same drink as before again. So you decided to follow him through the crowd, not minding anyone that bumped into you. You just wanted to stay close to him, what he immediately noticed. One of the biggest grin you've seen him wore on his lips. “Missin’ me already lass, eh?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows.” You teased him while taking the glass out of his hands and bringing it to your lips. Maybe Florence was right, maybe it wasn't that bad to go out tonight.

“I see.” He smiled while taking some sips from his drink. He averted his eyes from your figure for a blink of an eye, catching something of his interest. If you thought his grin couldn't turn more smug, you were damn wrong. He placed the glass onto the wooden counter, and used his free hand to pull you closer to him by your waist.

You shrieked out of the sudden impact and your hands found his chest, leaning flush against the tight muscles. You could literally feel him flex beneath your touch, even through the wool of the sweater. “What the…” You couldn't even end your sentence as his other hand pointed just to the spot above your heads. Your eyes followed his index fingers to the little mistletoe above, and the realization hit you right now. His hand moved to cup your cheek while he bent himself over to close the slight gap that was left. Brushing his lips over yours just so gently and polite, it didn't feel like any of the kisses you had experienced so far.

After some time - way to short amount for your liking - you parted again, hands still staying at their previous places. “Christmas traditions…” He placed another quick peck onto the crown of your head. “Nae so bad after all, eh?” His smile grew into a big grin, something you wanted to see even more often.

You heard another familiar voice before you could even respond to Johnny. “Fuckin hell. We missed it, Si.” It was your friend who just walked back into the pub, a beefy arm slung over her shoulder while both approached you.

“Wait…What did you miss?” You blinked in confusion at your friend, who only laughed.

“Your Christmas miracle, silly bun.” She laughed while intervening her finger with his.

That was the second time you realized something tonight. It hit you like a ton of bricks and your brows furrowed. “You fuckin’ minx.” You tried to keep a scolding tone, but you couldn't suppress the happiness in your voice.

“Better say thank you.” She teased, while Simon placed his chin onto her head.

“We should leave them alone, love.” He placed a soft kiss onto her head, while closing his eyes and she nodded.

“Alright.” Johnny picked you up in one motion and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing, which forced a scream out of your throat. Laughing was the only thing you were surrounded by as your cheeks completely turned red. “Yer comin’ hame with me, bonnie.”

“Treat ma girl right, Johnny!” She yelled after the Scot while he already carried you outside.

And it really shouldn't be a secret that he indeed treated you right. From this day on, it became a cheesy tradition to spend the Christmas eve in that specific pub. Johnny at your side, one of his hands always on you, while he kept bragging to Simon about something that happened on the last mission which made Florence laugh way too hard. From this day on, Christmas was not so bad anymore.

[igorvinyls]

Why I Believe John Lennon is Asuka Langley

Hello everyone! I originally created a thread about this over on Twitter, though I also want to post it here just because. I want to preface this by saying while this is mostly a joke, I still want to point out the similarities between the two. I find that both John and Asuka are very complex people/characters that happen to heavily relate to each other. Obvious spoilers for Neon Genesis Evangelion. TW FOR TOPICS SUCH AS SUICIDE AND DEATH.

CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Both John and Asuka lost their mothers from a young age, with Asuka losing her mother at 4 and John losing his mother just before his 18th birthday. It’s known that John’s mother wasn’t exactly mentally stable as Mimi, John’s aunt, was given custody of him. Similarly to John’s mother, Asuka’s mom, Kyoko, was also mentally unstable. Kyoko lost her mind after surviving a failed experiment with Evangelion Unit-02. This experiment would also end up taking the life of Yui Ikari, Shinji’s mother (this is important info for later.) Kyoko ultimately committed suicide after losing her mind and her husband in the process. Though it is ambiguous how Asuka’s father felt towards her, he did indeed drive his daughter away by cheating on Kyoko while hospitalized. It’s also known that John’s father wasn’t very involved with him up until the height of Beatlemania. Both John and Asuka were never very close with their parents due to many different factors.

(It can also be argued that John and Asuka were both adopted, but Asuka being adopted was only canon in the manga. For the sake of this post, I’ll only mention canon events from the anime going forward.)

I would also like to bring up this video.

RELATIONSHIPS WITH LOVERS

John and Yoko will probably be the most recognized celebrity couple in the world. It’s also recognized that John had an Oedipus complex which was sometimes discussed. The same can be said for Asuka, considering the fact that she romantically latched onto Kaji, a 30 year old special inspector for NERV. Asuka does this to fill the void of a perfect father figure in her life, as well as filling the role of a lover. John mentions doing this with Yoko numerous times. John and Yoko would even go as far as calling each other mommy and daddy. Moving onto other romantic relationships, I will now discuss Shinji, Asuka, John, and Paul. Shinji and Asuka have this strange dynamic throughout the story of Evangelion. Asuka is secretly in love with Shinji (you can already see which direction this is headed in), though Shinji has a hard time reciprocating his feelings due to his own personal struggles. Asuka’s rudeness and constant bullying also confuses Shinji, leaving him to wonder what Asuka truly feels for him. In this scenario, Paul would be in the same boat as Shinji. Shinji and Paul both lost their mothers at a young age. Paul and John bonded over the loss of their mothers. In a way, this also happens with Shinji and Asuka. It’s easy to tell that Shinji is more drawn towards Asuka after she tells him that her stepmom isn’t her actual mother. John and Paul go on to have a rivalry as they grow older, which also happens to Asuka and Shinji, though their rivalry was highlighted since day one. This rivalry between the two characters progresses all the way to the finale of the series. You can say that Asuka finally accepts Shinji when she lifts her hand up to his cheek while he is brutally strangling her. This act is seen as her accepting him into her heart after everything that they’ve been through. John and Paul also reconcile towards the end of John’s life. In Evangelion, the world is quite literally destroyed at the end of the series when the two finally reconcile. I’m not gonna be cheesy and say the same for John and Paul, but yeah. MOVING ON NOW.

OTHER FACTORS

John and Asuka have a habit of trying to appear more “mature” than they truly are. Asuka constantly boasts about being the best and most mature out of everyone. Same can be said for John. We also see this with his marriage to Cynthia Powell, John’s first wife. In my eyes, John’s first marriage was a rush to maturity considering the fact that he was only 21. I could say the same for John having a child with Cynthia at such a young age as well. John and Asuka, though trying to seem mature, are ultimately vulnerable people who tend to regress. Asuka acts like a young, lovestruck girl with Kaji. John acted in a similar fashion with Yoko. Asuka and John had massive egos. What else is there to say, really?

FINAL SUMMARY AND A FUN FACT

This is gonna be a quick one that basically ties together the points of my threads.

John and Asuka were seriously neglected as children which had a massive impact on their social development, as well as behavior.

Both had large egos, yet low self esteem.

The only fun fact about the two I have is that they both know German and Japanese.

THANKS FOR READING!

[primomover]

some soft copia headcanons because i’m thinking about him (as always!)

(all sfw with very mild suggestion)

-copia takes his glove off of whatever hand he holds your hand with- he likes to feel skin on skin contact

-you steal each other’s scents. copia keeps a little bottle of your perfume with him and you constantly wear his casual clothes because they smell like him

-he hardly ever says your name. it is every pet name under the sun before he resorts to saying your name

-copia can play the piano. i’m imagining you lying on top the body of the piano and he’s playing your song by elton john to you and you can feel the vibrations in your bones and he just loves you so much

-he doesn’t like being shirtless around you- he’ll sleep in a plain white singlet rather than reveal himself. but you go out of your way to tell him you love him and kiss him every time you get the chance and, when he’s finally comfortable, you slowly strip his shirt off so you can press butterfly kisses on every inch of his skin

-when u wake up next to copia and he’s already awake he will literally just be lying there looking at you with the biggest heart eyes you’ve ever seen

-he peppers kisses all over you whenever he gets the opportunity. this starts the second you wake up and continues until the pair of you pass out

-he is very clingy. whenever he is able to, he keeps your fingers intertwined, but sometimes he likes to just link your pinkies as you walk

-he would say the most loving and cheesy shit like “are you sure you’re real, topolina? are you sure you are not a stolen work of art from the louvre? we must return you straight away, vero?”

-hogs blankets so bad when u share a bed and he sleeps with his legs intertwined with yours

-he big spoons when he has to but lucifer below he loves being the little spoon and just being enveloped in you

-he loves touching your hair. so much. he will style it if you let him.

my ask box is open for requests, both sfw and nsfw for any and all ghost characters!

[hirunoka]

"You're My Angel"

for @incidentale (Thank you so much for that ask and the inspiration ❤🌻 )

Words: 1323

(Ao3 link in reblog)

Characters: Simon (Dinner in America 2020), Patty (Dinner in America 2020)

Additional Tags: Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, They love each other so much, and I love THEM so much oh God we NEED a sequel, Also we need more fanfictions wtf, inspired by a song

“You know that I’m no angel, right?” Simon half-teases with an arched brow after she is done singing, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close on the bed.

“You’re a fucking angel, you’re my angel. All mine, mine, mine…” she sweetly sings into his ear this time. He can feel her smile against his ear and fuck him if it doesn’t make his heart race and ache like crazy.

Just like every time.

He decides that he’ll die a happy man if he can feel her smile like this every day.

“I’m no angel,” he insists.

“You are. To me. You saved me. You can’t deny that. No matter what you do and say, you’ll be always my angel,” Patty says as she nuzzles his neck and that’s what breaks him finally because fuck, he was no one's, and I mean no one's favourite person before: let alone an angel.

Sure, he had a few loyal fans maybe: fans who thought he was amazing and cool, but what the fuck did they know? They only knew John Q.  And they sure didn’t think he was an angel. Not that he wanted them to. He knew he was no angel, and he wasn’t aiming for being seen as one by anyone. That wouldn’t be very punk of him, right? Right. Fuck angels, anyway.

Simon is not sure who saved who, actually, so he just lets out a dry chuckle and swallows the lump in his throat as the tears he was holding back gently roll down his cheeks.

It’s a weird and holy feeling; being loved oh so much.

He doesn’t think he has been ever loved like this before; so truly, madly and deeply. Yeah he is quoting Savage Garden okay, sue him. Not even by his parents who were supposed to love him. Because that’s what parents did, he used to think. They would love and accept their kid. Well, apparently that was such bullshit.

Patty, on the other hand, loved him without trying to change him: she accepted him as a whole, loved him as a whole.

Being loved by her was a miracle. She was a miracle in his eyes.

Patty, Patty, Patty…

Kind, funny, sweet, sexy, patient, honest, and just his-kind-of-crazy.

They were living together in their small but cozy apartment for the past seven months and nine days, and yet she never ceased to amaze him every single day.

He buries his nose in her soft hair and sighs.

“I’m sure you would figure something out by yourself to save yourself from that pathetic shit that you used to call ‘life’, eventually. You are punk as fuck and smart as hell, after all. I just… made the process go faster. Diamonds don’t stay hidden all their lives. They can’t. They find a way to shine sooner or later somehow.”

“I don’t remember allowing you to make this about me,” she complains and slightly pulls herself away to look at him. Seeing his tears makes her frown, but she doesn’t mention it or asks if he is okay. She leans her forehead against Simon’s instead, her thump caressing the side of his cheek as he closes his eyes in content. “But hey, at least you didn’t deny that you’re mine.”

“I don’t remember askin' for permission. Everything is about you for me now.”

‘There is no me without you anymore,’ he thinks.

“Is that so?”

“Hell yeah,” he nods. When he opens his eyes, Patty looks at him like he has given her the whole wide world. “You see that streetlight?” He points at the streetlight across the street from their window. “Even that is about you,” he whispers. “It helps me to see you better when you’re sleeping. Big fan of that one, I swear. Beautiful warm yellow. Maybe I should write a song about it later. And of fucking course I’m yours, music girlfriend. Always. Hell, I was yours before you even knew it.”

“Ew, babe, you’re sooo cheesy right now. You’re like, as cheesy as mac and cheese, even.”

That makes Simon laugh. Teach Patty a word and voilà, just watch her start using it all the time.

“I’m just fuckin' with you,” she laughs back. “And I’m yours, too, angel,” she adds as she starts pressing soft kisses on his body: first on his naked chest and then his collarbone, shoulder and jaw.

“This better not become a thing,” feeling his cheek heat a little, he mumbles, his hands wandering up and down her sides.

“What? Me calling you ‘angel’? How about… ‘Punk Angel’ ‘Angel of Punk? But nah, I think I love calling you just ‘angel’ more. Sorry not sorry,” she says with a cocky smile that suits her so much that Simon falls in love with her all over again.

He is utterly captivated by her and her affection.

“Did I ever tell you that your voice is as deep as an abyss that I wouldn’t mind falling into for the rest of my life, angel?”

That sounds like a promise somehow and Simon’s heart suddenly skips a beat. He hopes and wishes it’s a promise because he would give everything for Patty to stay by his side for the rest of his life.

It makes him feel selfish to want her that much even when he has her now, though. He cannot help but feel like one day she will realize she can do better than him and then decide to leave his sorry ass because God knows she deserves better.

Even imagining that makes him feel like dying so he tells his brain to stop thinking such things and focus on the moment they are in instead.

“And you call me cheesy. Oh God, you’re ridiculous.”

“Goddess, you mean, am I right or am I right?”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, you adorable and sexy Punk Goddess.”

Satisfied with his answer, she locks their lips together finally. Simon kisses her back like her lips are oxygen and he is a dying astronaut.

“Don’t be surprised if I steal your idea about that The Streetlight song,” Patty lets him know when they pull away eventually. “I think I can pull it off before Saturday and sing it for you at my concert.”

“I have no doubt you could,” holding her close, he yawns and agrees as she lies on his chest.

“Now hush, I gotta watch you sleep while the streetlight accompanies me.”

“Whaa— You creep.”

“What can I say? You’re my inspiration, angel. And don’t act like I don’t catch you watching me sleep nearly every morning.”

“Who? Me? You can prove nothing,” he denies.

“Uh-huh, sure. Sweet dreams.”

“Being with you is like a sweet dream anyway, I need nothing else.”

And with that, he let himself start falling into the warm embrace of sleep. At this point he cannot even remember how he used to sleep alone before he met her.

“He sleeps soundly by her side, without a care,

While she traces his features with a loving stare.

In the quiet of the night, they're alone,

With the streetlight as their silent chaperone,” just when he is about to fall asleep, he vaguely hears Patty singing quietly.

“Sweet streetlight, keep shining bright

As I watch my angel through the night.

Guide him with your gentle light,

In this moment, everything feels right.”

“Wow, you’re fast. That terribly sounds like a gospel for some reason though,” he makes an honest comment, ignoring the way how it made him feel warm inside despite it really sounding like a gospel.

“Shh, I’m just warming up, ignore it. Sleep.”

Simon chuckles and does as he is told after planting a kiss on her forehead and whispering: “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my angel,” is the last thing he hears before falling asleep with a slight smile on his face.

He thinks he can get used to that.

[bloodyraremedium]

what music i think TMA characters listen to:

Jon: he doesn't really listen to music, and when he does, it's usually whatever's on the radio. but he likes pretty quiet songs that he relates to (sad songs basically) and songs with so many sounds you can't think

Martin: those 2000s cheesy indie love songs on acoustic guitars and video game OSTs

Tim: dude was MADE for girlypop. he knows so many katy perry songs it's even funny. if tma took place in 2024 you better believe he would know all of hot to go

Sasha: she listens to a lot of folk music and show tunes. she has a really beautiful singing voice

Melanie: definitely a lot of riot grrrl music and punk rock. just generally very angry and loud songs y'know ? Georgie listens to pretty similar stuff

Elias: listens to classical music and elton john. nothing else

Gerry: you KNOW my man is listening to finnish metal bands where they scream at the top of their lungs over the loudest music you've ever heard. plus he got gertrude to listen to it

Michael: jack stauber. need I say more

[zafirosreverie]

"Would you go out with me?…I meant romantically" (Lovecraft x F!Reader)/(Poe x F!Reader)

for @stygianoir hope you like it!

H.P. Lovecraft:

He's been here for a long, long time, but he wasn't really interested in humans beyond the occasional sacrifices and tributes. There was nothing the human race could teach him, they didn't bring anything new, not even amusing for him. Until he met you.

He had been with the Guild for a long time, following orders, no matter how bloodthirsty or inhumane (after all, what did he care about the moral laws of a society that would soon disappear like so many others?), simply waiting for his contract to end so he could go back to sleep at the bottom of the ocean. But then you joined the Guild, and everything changed.

You were kind, gentle, a little distracted and radiated a pure and innocent aura, one that inevitably caught his attention. You know what they say, the darkness is always attracted to the light. He tried to approach you, the only important thing humanity had created, he needed to be near you, like a moth to the light, but it wasn't easy, you were just as shy or shyer than Alcott and Poe, which was saying a lot, and Lovecraft could see that his presence made you nervous.

However, he also felt that you weren't afraid of him, you just didn't know how to approach him. So he followed you around like a stray cat, waiting for you to get used to his presence. It wasn't his brightest move, nor the most dignified, but for an evil and ancient god, the prize often mattered more than the means, and you were definitely the prize he had longed for the most in his long, long existence.

Finally, after many months, you gave him the chance to make his move that he had been waiting for. He witnessed Twain's attempts to woo you, and although it bothered him, he had never done anything about it because you didn't really seem interested. Until one afternoon you went to him for help, saying how those flirtations and advances were really bothering you and that you wished the other man would stop. That's when Lovecraft decided to intervene, mark his territory and let the world know that you were the one to whom the eldritch horror would hand over his existence.

Listen, you knew he wasn't one for soft or cheesy talk, he just told you what he thought, direct and without embellishment and you had gotten used to it, you even appreciated his direct way of speaking because then you didn't need to try to read him or find out if the things he told you were true or if he was just being nice (you already knew he had a soft spot for you).

That's why he surprised you when one afternoon, while you sat in your study drawing, with Lovecraft's head in your lap, he opened his eyes suddenly and looked into your soul.

"Would you be my human?" he asked

"Huh?!" You blinked in confusion "I-I...I'm sure John already took that tittle"

Lovecraft frowned, as if the very idea was ridiculous and you were pretty sure he was judging you, even though his face showed no further emotion. You cleared your throat as an idea began to form in your mind, one that you really wanted to be true, but that you didn't dare say out loud.

"I mean-...you already have humans, what about the rest of the Guild? Or the people who still worship you?"

"They're not my humans" he said, as if it was something obvious "they're humans that I tolerate around me"

"You toletare me too?" you smiled a little, even as you felt your face blushing.

"I don't tolerate you. I actively seek your company" he corrected.

"…coming from you, I feel like that's an immense honor" you said sincerely, letting one of your hands caress his hair.

"It is" he replied, closing his eyes again.

You stayed silent for a while, your drawing already forgotten and abandoned while you simply looked at the impassive face of the man in your lap. Just when you thought he had fallen back asleep, you heard a soft whisper that you weren't sure if it was in your mind or he had actually said it.

"Would you be MY human?"

Clear images flashed through your mind, confirming the thought you had earlier. There was no mistaking the intentions of the horror in your arms, and as you timidly whispered a yes, you could feel as if an ancient, inhuman force surrounded you, warm and protective. The pact had been closed.

Edgar Allan Poe:

"Did she say yes again?"

Poe sighed as he sat next to Francis at the bar at the Guild base. It wasn't that they were close, he wasn't even completely sure he liked the man, but he was the only one in the organization who really had any notions of love and romantic relationships, so he was the only one who could help in his attempts to woo you.

The poor man hadn't been able to stop thinking about you from the moment he saw you. After all, you were the only reason he agreed to join the new Guild. After the disaster in Yokohama and Fitzgerald's surprising resurgence, the blonde had contacted his former employees again, in an attempt to regain the original strength of the Guild or even make it stronger.

As expected, some didn't accept. Steinbeck basically gave the man the middle finger, while Mitchell had decided to return home despite her embarrassment at not being able to regain the family's honor, and Montgomery had not even been considered for it. By the time Alcott had gone to look for him, they only had Melville, Twain, and herself on board (and Poe was sure that Herman had simply accepted out of a strange paternal sense toward Fitzgerald).

For a moment he had decided to reject the offer and wash his hands of Guild, but Louisa had asked him to at least just go see the new base, so that Francis would see that she had at least tried. It was a favor as "partners in shyness" that he had not been able to refuse. It was then that he met you.

When he and Louisa had arrived at the base, Fitzgerald had his back to the door, talking animatedly to someone. When he turned around, his eyes lit up at the sight of Poe and he quickly thanked him for coming back. Before Edgar could correct him and say that he was just visiting, Francis introduced you, and then his entire world stopped.

You were small (compared to him), pretty, young, your eyes didn't seem to be able to leave the ground and your cheeks were tinted a healthy and beautiful pink. Poe felt his heart begin to beat faster and he almost feared he had died, because there was no other explanation for being in the presence of such an angel.

"This is Y/N Y/L/N" Francis had said, breaking him out of his reverie "She will share the position of master architect with you."

The man had continued to babble further explanations, but Poe stopped listening again, simply staring at you behind the curtains of hair that hid his eyes. You were clinging to someone's arm, and it wasn't until he was able to regain control of the rest of his senses that Poe realized that you had, in fact, managed to bring two more members of the former Guild with you (although he never had the courage to ask you how the hell you'd contacted Lovecraft, or how you'd convinced Hawthorne to come back (honestly, part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know)).

And the moment you lifted your face a little to give him that smile, that damn shy smile, that had pierced his soul, Poe knew that there was no way in the world he could leave you. Not even Ranpo had been able to convince him to join the agency and abandon the new Guild. He just couldn't bear the thought of never seeing you again.

So he stayed and got to know you better. You two actually worked well together, and when Louisa joined the equation, the new Guild soon became the most influential organization in all of Japan (even the Port mafia had tried to do business with them).

It was easy to see the difference between this Guild and the old one, and for Poe, it was equally easy to discern why. It was you. Despite your shy and socially awkward nature, you were a little ray of sunshine to everyone, you knew how to keep a friendly conversation with anyone (as long as it was only one person, maximum two. Any more than that and you wouldn't talk anymore), help with their problems, you were a good listener and your silent company was always a source of tranquility and calm.

It was no wonder that Lovecraft loved sleeping near you, or that Hawthorne spent his afternoons reading next to you in your office. And for Poe, his favorite time were the nights, those in which you would timidly knock on his door and read his novels, those that he had abandoned in his obsession to defeat Ranpo and that thanks to you he had taken up again.

You had given him back a part of himself that he hadn't even realized he had lost, and because of that, he had decided to face his fears and try to establish a more intimate relationship with you.

The problem was that you just didn't take the hints. Whenever Poe tried to ask you out, you said yes, but then you would ask Louisa to join, so it was clear that you thought of it as a favor he was doing you, as part of the "partners in shyness" club.

Poe, being part of said squad as well, could never say no or correct you, so he ended up accepting the friendly solution. Louisa had apologized to him many times for that, but he knew it wasn't her fault.

"Why don't you write her something?" Francis asked, taking him out of his thoughts "You're a writer after all"

"I already tried, but I don't know how to write romance novels, and I don't think a crime scene is a good setting for a date."

"I meant letters, not a whole novel. Go back to the classics!"

That…that made sense. Edgar actually felt a little silly for not thinking of it sooner, but hey, it was better late than never, right? Days later, on one of the nights you visited him in his office, he asked you to help with something. But instead of the manuscript you had expected, he gave you a letter where he confessed everything he felt for you.

At that moment, you couldn't misunderstand anything, and all the kind invitations he had made to you before came back to your mind. You hid your face in your hands as you felt your cheeks heat up and apologized profusely for being so blind, but Poe quickly assured you that it was okay, he had still enjoyed those outings even if they hadn't been what he had planned.

“So… uhm…” he shifted uncomfortably next to you.

"I'll go out with you…romantically this time" you joked awkwardly and smiled shyly at him.

__________________________

"Oh, it's about time, you two," Mark joked when he saw you walking hand in hand. "Aw, don't blush, now that two of you are dating, you just need to adopt Louisa."

"Mark!"