#John/OFC

[the-artisticidiot]

i have learned more about star wars from one singular chapter of turtles all the way down by john green discussing whether or not a human being in a relationship with a wookie is weird or not than i ever have from any other part of my life

[potato-lord-but-not]

uhhhhhmmmmm helloooooo here’s some entirely not sfw doodles for the fellow monster!John/Noel enthusiasts. I will now take my leave. permanently

[adharastarlight]

The Marauders on a road trip:

Sirius driving at 90

James: slow down, mate

Sirius speeds up

Reg: slow down.

Sirius ignores him

Remus: Slow. Down.

Sirius immediately slows down to 50

[ajcrawly]

Here's the thing about all the memes John uses in TLT. Sure, Jod is horny for the 2010s, but I can't believe that after 10,000 years he hasn't bothered to get down with any fresh new material. Never mind a myriad of human culture developing its own linguistic quirks - I'm betting the original Canaan House 16 had plenty of time to come up with some of their own. For example:

Skeleton construct #230 (Scotty Boneman) and skeleton construct #39 (Grunkulous Prime) and their long-running feud

Excessively anatomical descriptions for normal actions e.g 'don't you elevate your supercilium at me, Valancy. Stop oscillating your cephalon in my direction.'

Responding to one of John's unfathomable inside-joke references with a solemn nod and intoning the words 'glumpus glumpus' to acknowledge Divine and Unknowable Wisdom

Forgotten objects that may or may not have been sex toys (Cyrus and Valancy's nude portraits are a continuation of this)

[pointing at a picture of any animal that no longer exists] 'What kind of dog was this?'

Necromantically juicing up your muscles to insane proportions before e.g opening a jar, turning a key, writing down a note

Referring to any distasteful outfit as a 'sex ward'

'or as they say on the Eighth: if in doubt, slut it up' (Mercy and Cristabel do not approve of this one)

Tendon loving care

Convincing one another of fictitious new slang from the other Houses.

[after summoning a bone construct/flesh monster/skeleton army] I can never get the nose right

How many of your own joints can you dislocate mid-conversation before somebody notices

Wearing your lyctoral cape any way except in the way that it was intended to be worn

And, of course:

Lyctor? I hardly know 'er!

[sadevergreen]

someone told me ‘cringe is dead have your fun’ on my last homestuck post (which was somehow my first homestuck post on this site) and it a little bit changed my perspective so ty :,)

have some morning beta kids!!

[moonriseoverkyoto]

Wearing your brother’s dog tags brings a lot of questions, which meant problems. Especially from men, especially at a bar where said men try to pick you up. Or strike a conversation about the mysterious dog tags. Lucky for you a certain Scot lovingly doesn’t think to ask too many questions. Not until Johnny “Soap” Mactavish’s tongue is down your throat in the back of his car on holiday do the gears begin to turn. But only, yes only after, a few odd weekends of small dates and letters when he can write, he finally decides to ask who your tags belong to between deep kisses and pants. You frown as you pull away to respond, the mood dampened.

“Oh I really shouldn’t say..” you sigh not wanting to explain the long story typically because it ruins the mood “my brother gave me these so I wouldn’t worry about him when he leaves on missions. His call sign is Ghost and…” Shit. Johnny’s whole body seizes up as his heart makes a pitfall down his body. His hearing stops as his brain repeats your joined last name over and over and over; Riley, Riley Riley Riley. Fuck why didn’t he connect the dots. Ghost always was secretive and protective about his younger sister, everyone knew he always declined to bring you as his plus one or even show photos to the rest of the 141. Damnit he knows somewhere down the line if Gaz or even worse Price hears about this that he’ll never live it down. If Ghost hears about this - shit he’ll never live. He finally zones back in to hear you say

“…but that doesn’t matter because you guys don’t run in the same circles, right?” Soap’s nervous smile gives you all the time for your heart to join his in dropping down below. But as your phone rings both of you are sure your hearts have dropped down to hell as the caller id reads: Simon Riley.

Drabble Drabble, I’m tired and I wanted to put this on paper before it slipped my mind. I’ll expand upon this later but this is mostly an idea for @glossysoap to enjoy because Glossy loves Soap as much as I do. So I hope you enjoy btw not proofread so toodles xoxo - Moon

©️moonriseoverkyoto 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

Reposts are 100000% appreciated. Also my inbox is open for requests!

[nyancrimew]

my favorite thing about john wick is how there is always a club scene and how people always keep dancing as people around them are getting shot and impaled by axes and whatnot

[yakowo]

🍳😊

[flying-fangirls]

Do y'all think Arthur would survive as an NVCR intern?

[outromoony]

I will never force my children to ship the same ships as me, they will have the total freedom to choose between shipping Wolfstar or leaving my house.

[mandysgirlf]

the cunty hand on his hip lmao

[potato-lord-but-not]

always and forever have them on the brainnnn

also this ship really is the definition of ‘we lost the plot’ what even is malevolent anymore

[gomzdrawfr]

yeah im a super big fan of cod, those fishes are reely big!

happy aprils fools yall

[cherrirui-official]

"You know... You didn't have to take that with you."

"But I promised him I'd take him out to see the ocean one day."

[noctxj]

hanahaki disease “… in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings, or when the victim dies…”

part i / part ii / part iii / part iv

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

agent who slowly withdraws from poly!tf141 after the first episode of bloodied flowers (realising they’re in love), from declining offers to relax in the rec room, accompany them to the local pub, or even working out in the gym to sparring.

agent knows that they’re not being subtle, see’s the guys try and figure what is going on with them. but agent refuses to let them find out—never.

agent who finally manages (after ensuring they wouldn’t hack up another flower) to file a notice, a formality really, to john— captain price, for their absence in the oncoming month or two. as there are no current operations needing agents’ immediate attention, its an opportunity for agent to get their other affairs in order after months being on base with the taskforce. 

john— captain price, briefly glancing at the document before focusing his ocean blue eyes to search agents (tired) face, a frown creasing between his full brows.

pleasedontlookatme—

whatdoyousee—?

the captain getting up from his seat to circle around his desk to stand before agent, his scrutinising gaze trying to catch agents downcast eyes.

pleasejohndont—

“this wouldn’t be about you pulling away from us recently hm?”

bullseye— 

agent could feel a thorn piercing the walls of her throat, their jaw tightening in response. a reaction john notices, his face softening as he reaches out to tip agents chin back to finally see his now gentle imploring eyes.

soblue—

“just don’t forget to come back to us, okay little love?”

little love. a pet name that simon (proudly) started to refer to agent amongst the taskforce (and no one else, lest they meet ghost in the middle of the night) while the others also followed suit—

“or would you rather shorty? or tiny even?” simon had smugly responded after seeing agents offended (blushing) face.

ugh that big oaf of a man, not everyone needs to be the size of an industrial fridge—!!

johnny and kyle chortling in the background, seemingly forgetting they’re suppose to be supervising the recruits’ training.

the pinch of another thorn dragging up their throat throwing agent back into the present.

“of course, captain.”

lies.lies.lies.

⋆.✧̣̇˚.

agent whose kept a mental list of contacts who owe them favours, a debt that is finally being repaid: to find a cure for hanahaki disease. from the highest level of power and prestige in society, to the lowest trenches of the underworld. over the course of a few weeks, one by one, each contact falls short of delivering. but agent keeps digging. keeps searching.

there is never nothing. there has to be something somewhere. someone must have at least thought— until finally a contact (old friend) provides them with a lead. 

a doctor whose dedicated their life in medical research of hanahaki disease, searching for a cure— whispers that there is a cure. they’re located halfway across the world. but that doesn’t matter to agent, they’re leaving within an hour; flight booked and travel bag already packed.

washing the remnants of blood down the sink drain, tears wet on their cheeks. the episodes were happening more frequently.

agent is running out of time.

⋆.✧̣̇˚.

“… it can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear…”

agent feels drained as the doctors words echo in their mind even hours after agents abrupt appearance in the doctors office. one look into agents (desperate) eyes and the doctor already knew why they had come, offered tea to soothe their throat (wash the metallic taste away, even if temporarily).

agent immediately coughing out both the tea, then one bloodied rose— then two— three— and finally four, as agent reaches to rip the tangled thorns from the back of their throat, ignoring the screaming pain of thorns dragging out of their mouth and past their stinging pale lips. 

the doctors face stricken with worry and sadness, trying to wipe the blood from agents face and hands; disposing of the thorny flowers in a sterile bin. the doctor concluding that agent does not have much time to deliberate if they wish to proceed with the experimental procedure. an incredibly invasive surgery that may not completely cure the victim; follow up surgery’s may be required. 

being split open from larynx to diaphragm, sown back together, only to be split open again if a single flower is coughed back up.

agent acknowledges this. pain is pain after all—

whats more to add to the pile?

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

tric’s notes

added some dialogue in this part compared to the first part. unedited, also like the first part. i know nothing about the complexities of surgery (google images my saviour) so don’t try to make sense of it haha.

thanks for reading!! ♡︎♡︎

crossposted on ao3 (same username!)

[minilev]

Love at first kill