#have a wonderful timezone~ ♥

[mythvoiced]

-. there's this thing i just... violently don't understand about having tense/stressed out characters in film & tv start fidgeting and touching things and adjusting things that they are generally and socially allowed to mess with (as usually established by the context, for example, an array of pencils that anyone can pick up because idk free gift, just bear with me) and then another character just stops them, picks it out of their hands, smacks their arm, gives them a mean look, and i'm supposed to read the scene as 'haha they're so right for doing that make them stop' like??????? why. i know i'm preaching to the choir but why is this a thing, why is it any of your fucking business to be so genuinely annoyed with someone fidgeting to self-soothe, buddy you are Literally not involved in this, i hate those scenes, immediately kills empathy points for a character for me

[wilsons-journey]

VSArtParty WIP - Oct. 2024

Throwing this WIP here, because I don't know when I'm able to finish it.

Vacation is over and upcoming work week fills me with a lot of dread,... I hope it won't get as bad as I fear,... but yeah first day after vacation is always strange. I'll try to stay positive and hope for the best!

And I hope you already enjoy this lil sketch ♥

[bunnyreaper]

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘

𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

𝖕𝖙 2 — 𝖕𝖙 1 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊, 𝖕𝖙 3 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

wc - 5.2k

warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, smut, phone sex, wee bit of angst, brief mention of the word 'daddy'

notes - vibrating with both excitement and fear, but hoping y'all love this like you loved the last one!! also on ao3! ♥

Johnny was right to send you to bed when he did because you're already struggling to get through the day, and on any less sleep, you might have fallen asleep at your desk. Clearly, you're terrible at making decisions for yourself, if that wasn't already evidenced by the nearly empty fridge accompanied by the pile of empty takeout containers.

It's not even the end of the workday yet, and you're beat—except staying up with Johnny was so worth it, getting to hear his voice and everything he said was complete bliss. You only wish he was here now, whispering in your ear and making your day go by quicker. Unfortunately, the sad reality is that beyond your good morning text, you haven't heard from him since, and you hate that you already feel like you're suffering from withdrawals. 

Again, that could be the lack of sleep, or adequate nutrition, or the fact that lately you haven't exactly been the most social person, and you've definitely been missing social contact. All of that missing need you just want to be filled by Johnny, Johnny, Johnny—his name like a chanted prayer in your mind. 

You at least have the sense of mind to focus when you need to, but at any idle moment, Johnny crawls back into your brain. Your mind drifts to wondering what he's up to, wondering where in the world they've shipped him off to this time—what timezone is he even in? What hemisphere? 

5 p.m. comes round sooner than you expect, and you find yourself logging off from your work laptop with a relieved sigh. You might be exhausted from lack of sleep, but Johnny's arrival in your life left you energised in a way you hadn't felt in so long. Every part of you hums with excitement, thinking about what the future might hold. 

You have to keep snapping yourself out of getting lost in the fantasy, even as you find yourself rereading through texts and committing Johnny's words to memory. The last time you did this still sticks in the back of your mind, still stings—someone who came into your life and was everything until they were nothing. Someone who said they could be trusted as they broke down your barriers. 

The aching loneliness was too much, so you'd run from it straight into something worse, not even realising how easily you fell into the trap. 

Your thoughts were spiraling, and you needed a distraction, so you put on the TV in the hopes of getting lost in the shitty reality dating show you've been watching lately. 

A few hours later, the buzz of your phone pulls you from the drama of the screen—your spirits soaring as you see the little icon you're rapidly growing attached to. 

Evening bonnie, hope you're not napping too close to bed time. 

hi!! no... for once, lol. how was your day? 

Long, but thoughts of you got me through ;) how was yours? 

The rapid responses mean your smile never has time to waver, as your eyes are glued to the screen watching as the messages are read, the app tells you he is typing and then another one of his messages appears. 

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you eagerly respond.

somehow managed to not fall asleep at my desk, i would've napped but... 

But? 

didn't want to risk missing any messages from you. 

Johnny heart reacts to the message immediately. 

Call? 

please!!! 

Mere seconds later, his face fills the screen once more, and your sheer excitement overtakes your nerves by far.

"Hi." You say shyly, as soon as you accept the call.

"Hi bonnie, gotcha on loudspeaker by the way." He greets you, his voice immediately sending warmth through you. 

You were rapidly growing obsessed with his terms of endearment, too. 

"Oh." You pause, suddenly self-conscious and hesitant. "Are you not alone?" Does anyone in his life even know you exist? You know you haven't really mentioned to your friends that you're 'dating' again.

"Definitely am, don't worry. Jus' need ma hands free." 

At that, your brow furrows, your voice filling with both mischief and disbelief. "What are you doing, Johnny?" 

He chuckles, before rustling some papers around. "Paperwork, nothing fun." 

Even hearing the word paperwork right now drains you, and can hear that Johnny isn't exactly pleased with the idea either. 

"Wishing I was under the desk again?" You ask, hoping your playful tone will make him smile. 

"Dinnae start." He groans. "What are you doing? Have you eaten?" 

"Not yet, I need to check my milk is still in date." You throw yourself off the sofa and make your way through to the kitchen—it's a good job Johnny actually poked you to eat. 

"Milk?" His voice is filled with confusion.

"For cereal." 

"Ach." 

"I can feel your disapproval from here." You can practically sense him shaking his head disapprovingly too. 

"Good, I see how this gonae be." He sighs, the disappointment evident, along with that sense of control, guidance. 

It just makes you tingle.

"Yes, daddy?" You giggle audaciously like you know exactly what you're doing, and hope it has the effect you want it to.

Johnny chokes, and then growls... and then sighs. "Away n bile yer heid." He whispers, yet he sounds anything but angry, his voice thick with arousal as he undoubtedly fights all kinds of urges. 

You want to take that step with Johnny, to dirty talk with him now that you feel comfortable, but you suppose now isn't the time—after all, he is still working. 

"I'm being mean now, sorry." 

"A right brat." He growls playfully. "Do something for me, lass?" 

The shift in his tone and the previous conversation topic gives you a good guess at what's coming next. "Is it cooking a real meal?" You groan playing into the role.

Well, admittedly committing to self-care tasks like cooking isn't the easiest thing in the world, and having someone to guide you in that is... a turn-on. 

"Knew you were a smart girl." He purrs, and those words turn your brain and your body to mush. 

You have to stifle a whine from leaving you, as your face flushes furiously. Oh, how you wish you could hear that over and over again—in that voice, with that accent, whispered right in your ear as he—

"What you gonna cook?" He asks, interrupting your rapidly spiraling thoughts. 

Staring into the fridge is a depressing experience—the shelves are mostly bare and there's a faint smell of something off. "Ugh, I don't have a lot in, to be honest." 

"Logging onto the Tesco website now, or maybe meal delivery service..." He muses, and you can imagine the smirk on his lips.

"Johnny!" Your protest is weak, as the coddling and infantalisation make you feel something you probably shouldn't. 

He snickers at your tone, but he knows now that if things are to continue, he won't listen to your objections. "Jokin'... for now. Talk me through yer fridge, lass." 

"Do you cook?" You ask, wondering if he's going to magically talk you through a recipe with the condiments in your fridge and the dried pasta in the pantry. 

There's a beat of silence. "Not often." 

You're overcome with a fit of giggles and a wave of faux offense. "Then who are you to lecture me?" 

Johnny meets your exclamation with a series of tuts, which already quiet your discontent, but you find yourself ruined when his voice drops and he delivers his next few words. "What happened to 'Johnny knows best'?" 

Fuck him, using his powers for good—and you can already tell he's getting off on it too. Today, you won't indulge him by submissively repeating it back, since he's making you face the horror that is cooking.

"Fine." You sigh, looking for what items in the fridge that are actually still in date. You pull open a cupboard or two as well. "I have... hummus and celery and uh, supernoodles in the cupboard." 

"Better than cereal." He waits for your response that doesn't come, as you pout on the end of the phone, and then he plays his next move flawlessly.  "For me, bonnie girl?" 

The plea in his voice makes you melt, makes you want to do just about anything for him. 

"For you." You say with a smile, grabbing the packets of noodles and a saucepan. "Have you eaten?" 

"A have, chicken tikka masala." 

You sigh, knowing that if not for Johnny you could've ordered a nice Indian for yourself—you get to work on the noodles anyway. "Kinda jealous now, if I'm honest."

His laugh is short but earnest. "Same, haven't had beefy supernoodles in an age." 

"Yeah, I would hope they're feeding you actually decent, nutritious food over there." 

He huffs. "I would hope you're feeding yerself decent food, but here we are." That playful judgement is back, lacing his words and making you crave his approval. 

It's a startling thought, that here you are, only a few days in and needing his praise, his encouragement—you suppose it comes easy as it plays into both of your natural instincts—his to lead, yours to follow.

"Less sass, more... paperwork." You grumble playfully, trying to cover up the fact that, maybe, you like being teased by him. 

"Aye." He laughs, and you can briefly hear him scribbling in the silence.  

For a few moments, it's just the sound of him writing and you cooking, but the quiet feels comfortable rather than awkward—strangely routine and domestic after such a short space of time. 

Your mind wanders back to what the two of you had discussed last night, about his day later in the week. "Have you thought more about Friday?" 

There's a brief shuffle and the sound of the call changes as Johnny seems to take you off the loudspeaker and moves around. "Meetin' you?" 

"Yeah." There's a sense of nervousness within you, a fear he's going to suddenly decide that he doesn't want to see you after all, that he doesn't see this going anywhere. It's so soon, and yet the thought seems crushing. 

"Haven't thought of much else." His confession seems to settle your rapidly beating heart just a little, the sincerity in his voice making your stomach twist and turn. 

Maybe you shouldn't push it, but you want to meet him more than anything, so you can make the first step toward all of this becoming real. "Would you be up for coffee? I can come to you!" 

"About that..." His sigh is weary, and panic overtakes you as the silence stretches on. "Am leaving for a week or so." 

It's not a total rejection at least, but somehow it still stings, still settles heavy and unpleasant in your gut. "When?" 

"Tomorrow." He falls silent, waiting for you to say something, yet you don't know what words to even summon right now. "'m sorry, lass." 

You take a deep breath for a moment, collecting your thoughts as you stir your noodles and try to put everything you feel into some sort of coherent order. 

There's no logical reason to feel rejected, as it's not that he doesn't want the date, but that he can't. Perhaps it's that lingering thought that this kind of thing will be a frequent occurrence—it's just a small taste of what's to come. But wanting Johnny means handling this, like he deserves. 

You push through the discomfort and force yourself into a more positive mindset.

"But... after that? Or is this just because you hate coffee so much you're fleeing the country?" You laugh softly, hoping the joke will lighten the thick atmosphere. 

"Now, if you'd asked me out for tea..." He laughs in return, before turning serious. "But... when I'm back, I'd love to see you. Have ta, really. " 

"I'm glad." The beaming smile on your face is ridiculous, and you're so thankful he can't see you grinning like an idiot at his words. He has to meet you. 

With your cooking complete, you take the saucepan off the stove and pour the noodles into a bowl, grabbing it before returning to the comfort of the couch. "Okay, noodles done." 

"Wanna call me back once yer done, or?" 

Fuck, he's so considerate. 

You hum negatively as you start to blow on the noodles to cool them. "I'll eat on the phone if you don't mind the sound of me slurping." 

Johnny chuckles, before making a suggestive noise. 

"The noodles, Johnny." 

He coughs, covering more juvenile laughter. "Aye, the noodles, of course." 

"So... going anywhere fun?" You ask, referencing his upcoming deployment. 

"Classified, I'm afraid." He answers curtly, but you know it's nothing more than his duty. 

No questions about that, then, you suppose. It's going to be a strange thing to adjust to, but it's another thing that comes along with accepting Johnny into your life. You change your line of questioning, hopefully to something he can answer. "Are you... scared?" 

"No." He answers quickly and firmly, in a manner that suggests certainty rather than bravado. "Don't worry about me, hen." He rushes to add.

"Kinda hard not to, even if we only just met..." You sigh, but you suppose you have to trust Johnny's skills and training. "I imagine it only gets more intense from here." 

The admission feels like a swift kick to the stomach. 

"Yeah..." You hear a knock on the door from Johnny's end, and he swears colourfully under his breath. "Ach, can I call yer back?" 

It's almost cruel the way such timing drives the point home. 

"Sure, things to attend to?" You ask absentmindedly, not really expecting an answer. 

He sighs, before trying to turn his tone more positive. "Aye, but I'll catch you before bed, yeah?" 

"Yeah. Bye, Johnny." 

"Bye, lass." 

He ends the call, leaving you with your meal and your thoughts. 

Maybe you aren't strong enough to deal with this after all, you think, trying to settle the ugly, gnawing feeling inside you. It already hurts, but maybe that's because you're trying to hold so tight onto something intangible. Maybe if you and Johnny become something, mean something to each other, it'll all be easier to deal with. 

It's an hour or so later when you're tucked up in bed that Johnny's call lights up your phone. You pick it up instantly. 

"Hey, glad you haven't fallen asleep already." He chuckles, his voice softer than before. 

"Mmm, still hanging on." You mumble, cheek pressed into plushness and tiredness lingering at the back of your mind, as well as the mess of feelings that still simmers within you. 

"Cuddled up with the big B?" He asks, voice cheeky and charming. 

You can't help the soft giggle at the ridiculous nickname. "The big B?!"

"Barnaby!" He clarifies with a hearty laugh, not ashamed at all of his goofiness. 

"The big B! That's so silly" 

The laughs quiet, and another silence falls, but this time you feel the discomfort that comes with it. 

Johnny is the first to breach it, his tone tinged with worry. "How are yer?"

"I'm fine." You sigh, not wanting to elaborate and get yourself upset again. It's not far from the truth. Nothing has changed, but this is something you have to learn to sit with, have to make peace with for both of your sake. 

Johnny cuts right through the noise. "Yer seemed a little upset earlier. Wanna talk about it?" 

Communication—the key to any good relationship, an essential to any kinky one, and one thing you think you really kind of suck at. 

It's a simple sentence with a simple answer, and nothing about Johnny suggests that his reaction will be anything other than supportive—but it's not Johnny's voice that whispers cruel things in the back of your head. And for now, Johnny's influence is not enough to quiet the storm. 

The fear grips at your heart, stops your words right in your throat, but your mind wars between the ghosts of your past and the duty of your present and future. 

Johnny waits quietly, not pushing you for an answer or assuming how you feel, and that small act helps pull you out of the fog and helps you force yourself to speak. 

"Reality setting in, I guess." The words don't come easy at first, your throat tight—but once you start, the rest just seems to flow, taking the weight of your burdens with them. "Like, it's not too bad right now, it's just... knowing what's in store? Assuming we keep talking." 

The opportunity to really put your thoughts in order and get them out actually does help, surprisingly.

Johnny goes silent for a moment, considering your words before he speaks. "If you wanna stop—" 

"I don't." You feel bad for interrupting him, but you already know that's not what you want, even if he sees it as a kindness. "Like I said yesterday, I'm not faint-hearted... the intensity just took me by surprise. All of this has, really." 

"I'm with you there. Sat here thinking about how I'm gonna be thinking of anything else when I'm on the mission." He laughs softly, the sound laden with emotion. "Lt's gonna have my head." 

The gravity of his job sinks in now, with the realisation that he will be busy and focused, and rightfully so.

"Will you be able to get in touch while you're gone?" You ask, more for informational purposes, rather than being unable to last a week without hearing his voice. 

"Not a whole lot, no. Sometimes no' at all, but I'll let you know when I can." He states plainly, and the honesty is so refreshing. 

"I'll try not to bother you too much then." You giggle, though you don't really mean your words. He has his mission, and you have yours—stay strong while he's gone. 

He scoffs instantly. "You? A bother? Never." 

You hum, continuing with your playful statements. "You haven't seen me when I'm clingy." 

"A like clingy, am clingy too." 

Ugh, just when you think he can't be more perfect, he comes out with that. The sweet smile on your face is relentless, and you just know the same is true for him too. "Oh yeah? So you won't be complaining when we meet, and I just take a hold of your hand and don't let go." 

His barked laugh is so genuine that it makes your heart sing. "Bold of yer to assume I'd be letting you go, lass." 

The thought of even his hand in yours is enough to send you into a frenzy—a simple, delicate, and chaste act, yet you crave it like nothing else. When your date finally does come around, you'll be able to touch him and see him up close. You'll be able to hear that voice and those words up close and unrestrained by the slightly shitty quality of the phone call—and that is a little terrifying.  

"I guess waiting isn't a bad thing after all, maybe I'll be less nervous by then." Because right now you know you'd hesitate to reach out and touch him, would struggle looking him in the eye for too long. Maybe if you wait, the radiance that is Johnny's warmth will wear off, but somehow you doubt it. 

"Why ya nervous?" 

You almost snort at such an oblivious question from such a seemingly smart man. "Have you seen you?" Have you talked to you? Been on the end of your affections? Your mind pleads. 

"See this ugly mug every day." He grumbles, though you can still hear the smile. 

"You can't see, but I'm rolling my eyes." You giggle. "But what if I just... can't resist you? Jump you right then and there?" Your voice takes on a more teasing tone. 

"In public?" He tuts, slow and sexy, his voice dropping low. "Naughty girl." 

You straight up whimper. "Needy girl, for you." 

A growl leaves his throat, along with a whispered "Fuck." 

Arousal floods through you, overtakes you, as you feel your mind slipping to a space of deep-seated need, all for him. You feel on fire, your skin hypersensitive to the brush of the sheets, as your lower body hums and begs for attention. No longer can you hold yourself back from falling under his sexy spell. "Your groans, your voice, it all drives me crazy." 

The laugh that leaves him is weaker, choked with arousal. "All wet fer me, bonnie?" His voice, now a touched graveled, wraps so wonderfully around every word. 

"Soaked." You squirm in place, not even needing to feel to know just how dripping you are—every time he teases you, you practically gush. Your spare hand dives below the sheets, tracing ever so slightly over your stomach as it crawls lower. "Johnny?" 

"Yes, bonnie?" It sounds like his control is wavering too. 

"Please can I touch? I need it so bad." You whine and plead, surrendering yourself to Johnny's command. 

"You don't—" Another growl leaves his throat, you hear him shuffle and when his voice returns, he sounds even more aroused than before—sweet, gentle domination drips from his tone. "Touch yerself, go on." 

You comply immediately, your hand diving under your waistband and zeroing in on your swollen clit—relief floods you the second you make contact, your fingers rubbing delicate swirls on your soaked nub as gentle moans force themselves free. 

"Oh fuck." Johnny's breathing is ragged between his groans. "Gonna have tae join ya." 

"Fuckfuckfuck." Your eyes slip shut as you imagine him reaching down to free his aching cock, all for you. Your thoughts center on conjuring up an image of how long and thick you imagine him to be. "Is... is your cock as big as the rest of you?" 

You squeak out your words while you still have command over the English language.

"Guess you'll find out soon enough." He chuckles breathlessly, some of the words catching in his throat as he clearly works himself. "But I don't think you'll be disappointed. I know how tae take care of yer, know you're already desperate for me." 

Your circles quicken, his words sending pleasure coursing through you in a way that almost feels better than your touch. You fill the air with breathy moans. "Need you, Johnny." 

"Need you too, pet." He growls his words over the building slick sound.

"Oh fuck." Your reaction is instant, the word sending everything in your brain into overdrive. Pet. Pet. You almost cum right then and there, but his assault on your senses and sensibilities continues. 

"God, thinking about you on the end of a leash for me? So fuckin' hard thinking about it." His voice modulates between and whine and a growl, his need growing furiously. "I'd be so fuckin' lucky." 

You imagine the collar slipping around your neck, imagine Johnny clicking shut a lock and attaching a leash—pulling you to him just as he is now with every word. 

"I'd be the most loyal pet ever, I swear." You start to babble, unable to hold back any longer on the wave of submission that overtakes you. "I'll Wait for you to come home, naked and kneeling with my leash ready." 

"Jesus, fuck." Each grunt that leaves him makes you shiver. Each word like its own bolt of electricity straight from his body to yours. "Yeah, my good girl would be so lost without me." He says it with such certainty, speaking the truth to life. 

"I get separation anxiety like mad. I'll miss your touch, miss your smell, miss your taste—" You cut yourself off with a high-pitched whine, your fingers working you so fucking close to the edge.

"Don't worry, I'd fuck you so good before I go bonnie, fill yer up and leave you dripping with me." His groans are accompanied by more of those slick sounds. "Mark that pretty neck o' yours, too." 

"I'm... I'm not gonna last." You admit, holding back even now from cumming—you crave his permission. 

"Me either. Go on, moan for me, let me hear you." He urges you gently, even if his voice is filled with need. 

You let all your noises flow freely as you teeter toward the edge and desperately try to please him with the sounds you make. It's all too good, too much, too overwhelming. 

"Johnny, can I—" 

His demand is out of his mouth before you can even finish your sentence. "Cum fer me, bonnie. Go on." 

You cum with a strangled cry, flying over the edge right as Johnny demands it. The build-up of the past few days along with Johnny's noises has you shaking in ecstasy—ecstasy that's only prolonged when he cums too with a long, drawn-out groan.

After a moment, the only sound is both of your heavy breathing, as you come down from your high. 

"Oh my god." You sigh, a silly, blissed-out grin overtaking your features.

"You okay, sweet girl?" His voice returns to that sweetness you're coming to know and love.

You nod mindlessly, even though he can't see you. "Better than okay, are you?" 

He hums in affirmation, before his voice turns a touch serious. "You did so good. Just want tae make sure you're good, and a didn't go too far." 

"Hah, I mean, nowhere near too far." You admit shakily. 

"Am glad, it's only early days, though. That trust..." He hesitates. 

"... It takes a while, yeah." The post-orgasmic bliss coupled with the feeling of that trust taking root and growing. "I'm glad you understand." 

And he understands perfectly, as you never feel pushed or rushed, only pampered and adored. 

"Of course... it's special, for both of us." He admits, and you know you're on the same wavelength when it comes to the bond and relationship between dominant and submissive. 

"Mhmm." You hum dreamily, wholeheartedly agreeing and yet not able to summon up something profound. 

"Already sleepy?" His laughter is soft and sincere. 

"I'd get so much rest if every night was like this." 

"Even more so when I finally get to fuck ya, bonnie." He whispers so casually, yet even after your orgasm your clit still thrums with interest—God, he has such a hold on you.

"Yeah?" You sigh, dreaming of the day you'll get to experience it. 

"Yeah." 

The line falls silent, and you feel yourself fading. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so... sleepy." You whisper while you still have the chance. 

"It's okay, sweet girl, close yer eyes. Am right here." Johnny's sweet voice lulls you closer and closer, and your phone falls free from your hand to your pillow, resting there with Johnny just on the end of the line. 

"Goodnight Johnny." You mumble, before sleep finally takes you.

"Goodnight, Bonnie." His reply is soft, carrying you off to unconsciousness as he drifts off too.  

-//-

Johnny practically vibrates where he stands—wired beyond belief. Part of it is his usual pre-mission adrenaline, but the events of the past few days especially almost have him climbing the walls. His energy is frenetic as usual but with so much more—lust, yearning, withdrawal. 

It's only been a few hours since he ended the call after waking up before you, and yet he finds his thoughts unable to leave you, even as he finishes gearing up. You'd love to see him like this, and an idea strikes him.

He pulls out his phone, turns to the man beside him, and hopes he doesn't regret asking. Then again, some ribbing from the masked man would be nothing compared to the floored reaction he'd get from you.

"Ghost?" He asks, piercing the comfortable silence between the two of them. 

"What?" Ghost turns, eyeing Johnny and his hand holding his outstretched phone.

Johnny doesn't waver, sure in his request, and eager to see your response. "Take a picture of me, yeah?" 

"Girl back home?" Ghost asks, cutting straight to the point as he takes the phone. "Is this the first time she's seeing you? Cause you look fuckin' rough." 

"No." Johnny frowns, and worry washes over him. Surely Lt. is just messing him around—he knows she'll be happy to see him either way. 

Ghost pulls off a glove and navigates to the camera before stepping back and holding up the phone in Johnny's direction. He might be giving Johnny shit, but he at least takes the time to angle and position the frame in a way that compliments Johnny's stature. "She like the tac gear?" 

Johnny sighs, wishing this was over already. "Just take the picture, Ghost." 

"Say cheese." Ghost deadpans, and the softest of smiles graces Johnny's features—for her, not for him.

Johnny practically snatches the phone back from Ghost's hands, checking out the photo immediately. "Thanks." 

He pulls up their messages immediately, firing off the picture with a kissing face and a teasing message just for her. 

When he locks the phone and throws it in his bag, Ghost's eyes are fixed on him, his blackened eyes narrowed.

"Mind on the mission, yeah, Johnny?" 

Johnny nods, doing his best to push thoughts of her away for now, and letting his inner soldier take over. He'll be back to her before he knows it. "Aye, Lt." 

Days later, and after a successful first phase of the mission, Johnny stares down at his phone. The signal is nonexistent and won't return for a while, but he misses you, his mind is itching with his need for you. In this shitty safe house in the middle of nowhere, while someone else is on watch, there's very little to do, and truly nothing else he'd rather think about. 

He scrolls to the top of your messages, rereading each message and reliving each conversation, experiencing all over again how each message made him feel. 

Your sweet texts, your copious use of emojis, and your cute little selfies—it was all so intoxicating to him. For a man who was so used to maintaining focus, you were a fucking curveball. Something about you just sends his protective instincts into overdrive, makes unearned possessive tendrils curl up through him and around his heart—calls out to his guiding, dominant, caring side.

He has to constantly stamp down the thoughts inside that called out to him to find you, scoop you up, and take you home with him. Luckily for you both, Johnny is a patient man. He spends time out in the field waiting days for anything interesting to happen, he's spent years waiting for his pet, his girl to come along—and you're right there. He can wait a little longer. 

He holds down the record button, intent on recording a message for you, and begins whispering into the phone.

"Hi, been sat on my arse for far too long with nothing to do but think of you. Dinnae think I'll get signal anytime soon, but I 'spose it'll send at some point." He feels himself relax just a little as he falls into Johnny, the man—rather than Soap, the soldier.

"Been thinking about our first date, since you mentioned coffee. Kinda had a crazy idea actually, but I need your input. What about a cat café? Has to be one in that city o' yours, and I figure you must like kitties."

"Won't be long until you might be one for me... or a bunny... or a puppy." He interrupts himself with a sigh.

"Need tae stop those thoughts and quit while I'm ahead. Let me know, yeah? As soon as I get my leave, we'll set it up."

"Talk soon, bonnie." 

[melimpostor]

💜💜💜SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL💜💜💜

Thank you so much for all your art Meli!!! Hope you're doing okay :3

Awww Moon ... ;-; ♥♥♥♥ The feeling is very mutual, and i feel honored that you think so ! Thank YOU for your stellar writing , super interesting metas and Papamin propaganda ♥♥ Past couple weeks have been a bit rough, but i'll be fine in no time! UvU I hope you're having a nice break and a very good timezone ! Take care ♥

[grimmweepers]

ryuryuu ♥︎ i don't have much of a reason to stop by other than to say hello! aaand also tell you how i often find myself thinking about you throughout the day and wondering what you're doing 🥺 .. is ryu smiling ... i wonder fragrance she spritzed today .. is ryu happy? i hope she is happy! bcos seeing you on here never fails to make me happy! =^__^= i'm really so grateful to be friends with someone as beautiful in mind as they are in face hehe, and i suppose!! i suppose! ACK!! ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა i suppose i just wanted to tell you that i love you sooo much! 🥰 and i'm so very thankful for that stroke of magic that brought us together :3 i hope you're have a wondrous and magical wednesday so far babie ♥︎ you are MY special!! teehee

coco!!!!! coco!!!! THE BIGGEST HELLO TO YOU MY PRETTY PRINCESS!!! i saw the notification for this while i was at work and couldn’t wait to read it once i finished omg. you are such a sweet soul. and i always feel so lucky to receive your kindness and affection because you’re truly one in a million—like a snowflake! ❄️

i’m always thinking of you too! sometimes i find myself waking up and occasionally checking your blog when i feel like our timezones are keeping us too far apart (have i said that to you already? sorry i repeat myself a lot 😔). in fact, i took a photo of something that reminded me of you the other day and i was going to stop by your inbox but i was a lil hesitant because it might not have been that interesting hahahah i still have the photo tho!

i was sipping my coconut water and noticed it said coco in green on the bottle and i immediately thought omg haico!!! 💚 especially since the leaves on that second ‘o’ looks like alhaitham’s lil sprout. it made me imagine how if it was alhaitham drinking this, he would chuckle after reading coco and send a photo to you too! it’s always nice when otherwise mundane things suddenly feel special because they remind me of my friends

my wednesday has been quite good, and it’s even better after reading this! sorry this got so long ;; i can’t help it when it comes to you. i love you too!! i hope you’re taking care of yourself <3

[hawkzeyes]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAA. I checked your timezone AND I AM PRETTY SURE THIS IS NEW DAY, I wanted to send this PERFECTLY in your birthday so I hope I am not mistaken lmao It still 4 may in my timezone. ANYWAY: I hope everything is gonna be great and your health is not gonna be a bitch because you deserve everything nice <3 You're amazing, never change, be still your wonderful yourself. Take care of yourself, eat a lot of cake and don't forget that you're lovely lovely lovely person. I really hope you will spend your birthday good, without any problems or drama!!! Sometimes in my language instead of "happy birthday" we say "sto lat" what translated as "100 years" but it means more "May you live a hundred years" SOOOOO I hope you will live hundred years and even more ♥ (unless you don't want, then it's okay, live as long as you want babe <3).

Luv yaa!

AHHHH IM CRYING THIS IS SO CUTE AND WHOLESOME AND KIND AND JUST ALL THE GOOD 😭😭😭😭

THANK YOU I TREASURE YOU V MUCH I AM GLAD WE ARE FRIENDS AND IM GLAD OUR LOVE OF HAWKEYE HAS UNITED US 🫶

HDKSNDJJFNRN

Also I’m not ignoring your fav Clint panel request LMFAOO it’s just VERY hard to choose so it’s taking me a moment

Thank you 🫶🫶 Love youuuu and I hope you also have a lovely wonderful perfect day 💜💜💜

[theproblemcallednight]

Send to 10 other bloggers you think are wonderful. Keep this going to make someone smile. ☆♥

sdjkfbsdkjfb ebi ur so kind omg. tyyyyyy have a great timezone!!

[submitforher]

it's your birthday here...

happy birthday my angel!!!

i hope you have the most wonderful day you possibly can and that you enjoy your time at the restaurant you like so much. i hope you treat yourself so well for me. i hope you have such a good time and that you feel how loved and special you are today.

i wish we could go on the picnic you mentioned before. how lovely would it be to celebrate you like that... 😞♥︎ and i'll continue being greedy with you, just for you on your special day.

in all seriousness, i really hope you have the amazing day you deserve, and a part of me hopes im the first one wishing you a happy birthday. (it might not even be time yet for you...)

- 🐻

my baby bear is the first one to message me on my birthday! who else could it have been? no one but my baby bear. thank you so much even though it’s an hour away here in my timezone but it means so fucking much to me for you to be the first one to message me this and to be the first thought on your mind on my day.

there’s been a change of plans and i’m going to this local coffee shop tomorrow for their handmade, wood-fired pizzas that they serve on fridays and saturdays! who knew that a coffee shop could make some of the best and most authentic pizzas in town?

please keep being greedy for me, baby bear, even on my birthday. i like that you’re greedy with me because i’ve never had this - what we have - in all my life. my 28th (!!) birthday is going to be that much more memorable and meaningful to me because you’re here and in my life. your unconditional love has never withered away and neither has mine, baby bear.

[zenmai--jikake--no--komoriuta]

here we are! day #7 of Bobgoblin Awareness Week!! it's finally here!!!

if YOU TOO want to have a good shot at hooking a bobgob of your own, you're in luck; I've collated a short guide for you below!

I hope you've all enjoyed this impromptu campaign (it's had wayyy more reach than I thought it would ever get; I'm glad my shitty jokes brought a smile to you all!), good luck with your fishing and I hope your loved ones will be on the receiving end of a lovely bobgob today-- depending on timezone, your Valentiones' Approved Bobgob™ will either be up in a few hours or just over a day away, but there's a bobgob coinciding with the real-world Valentines' date for every timezone this year ♥ ALSO! if you enjoy fishing in FFXIV then check out FishFest 2024 which will be commencing on Feb 24th! There will be panels, streams, fish trains and other fun fishtivities for both FSH mains and players without a sub alike, so do check back soon :D

-------------------- Here's what you need to know/have prepared in advance for this particular Valentiones' window:

MINIMUM REQUIREMENTS: You must be a Lv.60 FSH AND have 750+ Gathering stat AND have the Tome of Ichthyological Folklore - Dravania to attempt this fish! (the latter can be bought with x125 White Gatherer's Scrips from the vendors listed in the link)

BAIT: x2-3 Goblin Jigs (you can also use Brute Leeches if desired!)

MACRO: It's not strictly necessary, but it's very handy to have a 17-second macro to help weed out some of the fish! (you can make your own using Fruity Snacks' pastebin as a base, then just Hook back in once it hits 17s and try again!)

SPECIFIC TIME FOR YOUR TIMEZONE: Open Carbuncle Plushy's wonderful Fish Tracker App and click the little cogwheels in the top right corner, then click on every expac name to deselect them; then click ONLY the button for 3.4 and exit out, and you should see our fishy friend near the top of the list! It should automatically display the correct time for your timezone, but you can hover over "in X hours" and it will show you a more specific time :)

------------------- Now for the actual strategy! Rather than regurgitate the better info out there, I'm instead going to link you to one of Fruity Snacks' amazing guides depending on your situation:

FIRST THINGS FIRST: How much time do YOU have left before the window?? If it's >10 minutes then follow option A; if running low on time then follow option B!

OPTION A: Arrive early and prepare 10 Angler's Art stacks by catching fish under Patience I or II, then follow along with page 109 of A Fisher's Guide to Eorzea!

OPTION B: Haul ass to the river and cast out with Patience II to hook a Sweetfish with Powerful Hookset, then follow Fruity's youtube guide!

------------------- Follow your chosen guide and your heart, keep mooch-looping those Sweetfish and you should easily land the big one today for you and your beloved ♥

(but if you're not successful in hooking one, click the Fish Eyes buff icon in the top right of the Fish Tracker App to see when your next opportunity will be-- then try again using your Fish Eyes skill! even a non-Valentiones' Bobgob is still a great fish!!)

Broke: "Happy Valentines Day!" Woke: Bobgoblin Bass is a big fish native to the Middle Thaliak River that is characterised by its often unusually long periods of unavailability and its next known window of uptime will fall on Valentines Day in certain timezones, making this the one and only time you can technically say "I'll Bobgoblin YOUR Bass this Valentiones!" to your loved one this very special time of year--

[mythvoiced]

-. HYELLO~ ♥ setting my queue to start on Sunday because i think i've found a system that works for me~ it's simply writing without thinking about it, can you believe it? that anxiety was holding me back! the audience GASPED-!! (and promptly rolled their eyes sarcastically)

lmao anyways the drafts are randomized i literally just press 'page up' or 'page down' and whatever it lands on i'll queue next ♥ so there is no priority system, thank you for your time ♥

[venusofthehardsells]

Written in Blood [one-shot]

Avenger!witch!ReaderxBucky, avenger!witch!Readerxdemon!Bucky

Summary: When an alien army attacks the Earth, you make a last ditch effort to save the planet, even if it means losing everything you love.

(Reader’s Avenger-name is Hecate)

Warnings: all the angst, violence, blood, major character death, smut, non-con, dub-con, monsterfucking technically I guess?, fingering, p in v, Supernatural elements (yes, that Supernatural), end of the world, swearing (ofc), magic, possession, lots of bad things happen

A/N: It is STILL October in some timezones so here is this fic I wanted to finish like two years ago. Happy fucking Halloween!

Huge thank you to @awesomerextyphoon and @sagechanoafterdark for cheering me on, it means everything! ♥ 

The rancid ashen air lies heavy in your nose and makes your eyes water. It is almost enough to blur the wall in front of you, but you blink the tears away with an angry sniffle and raise your bloodied fingers to finish writing the spell.

All around you, the city is on fire.

Screams and cries ring out from the burning high-rises in between metallic sounds of fighting. Crashes, gunfire. Voices blast your ears through your com, shouting for back-up, shouting for their lives. It'll be too late for most of them by the time you can reach them.

On the edge of your vision, a flash of blue, white and red lies abandoned in the rubble of the building that fell on you less than an hour earlier. You would have been under all those bricks if it hadn't been for him...

You have to stop and let the sobs wash over you.

Steve died trying to save you because you were out of your mind with grief and didn't react to the blast fast enough. It's your fault.

His shield is all that remains.

Gritting your teeth against the pain in your leg from where the blood you're writing with is coming from, you smear the next part of the spell as clearly as you can manage onto the raw concrete of the upturned wall.

Your intent and will is worth just as much as the signs you draw, every witch worth her salt knows that, but still you make an effort to get each line as cleanly drawn as possible.

The magic you're working is a different kind than the one Strange uses. It's ancient and feral and bought with blood.

It's not something he would approve of.

When he put you in charge of this point of attack, it was because he was out of options. You know he would have prefered Loki, but none of the Asgardians could be contacted and you wonder again that day if their world too has suffered this very doom somewhere all those light years away.

Strange had left you to deal with New York while he went to Singapore and Wanda to Wakanda, where the fighting was worst.

Right now though, you can't imagine anywhere worse.

"Hecate!," Stark's voice yells on the com, using your Avenger alias. "I need a status, now! Hecate! Answer me!"

But you don't, can't let him know what you're doing.

"Y/N, god dammit, please tell me you're not dead!"

But you are. As good as, anyway.

Ignoring Stark's pleading for you to answer, you press your fingers into your wound again with a groan, but it's no use, it's not deep enough to grant you any more paint and you need to get a few more lines of formalia down.

You unsheathe the knife you have fastened to your inner thigh and kiss the blade swiftly before bringing it down on your arm. It's the last knife you have left on you and it's the sharpest. Of course it is.

It's Bucky's.

As the fresh cut starts gushing, you have to wipe away more tears.

Four hours ago, one of the alien invaders caught Bucky in the neck with its talon-like fingers and you heard him gurgle and choke over the com as he went down. Stark had managed to pluck you from the scene when you started screaming.

A few seconds later, all Bucky's life readings from his suit had hit zero.

It had been too dangerous to go back for the body.

You clench your eyes shut.

There's no winning this war.

With fingers red from your newly opened vein, you draw the last symbols of your spell.

Your summoning.

It fills the entire chunk of concrete. As soon as you're done, you wrap a scrap of your sleeve around your arm to stop the flow; you feel dizzy on your feet and you’re slightly panting, leaning on the remains of a bench. Or at least, you assume it’s a bench.

Even without the bloodloss and the heartbreak, you’ve been knocked and kicked and beaten around since long before dawn. Now, it’s nearly dusk. The only thing keeping you on your feet is the sheer desperation that has also brought you to conjure up this dark, nasty magic. The last resort.

"Parker, Romanoff, someone give me a twenty on Hecate! I think her com's broken."

Still not answering, you begin chanting. The language is old, long forgotten to the world and it fills your mouth heavy as a stone when the words form and tumble into the air; it's almost a living thing.

It's as if the summoning wants to happen.

You've always stayed clear of this particular sort of magic, as all the cleverest and most long-lived of your foremothers did, but none of them were about to lose the entire planet. In the grander scheme of things, your trespass doesn't look unreasonable.

"Mr Stark, sir, I can see Y/N. She's… it looks like she's talking to someone."

"Where are you, kid? I'm heading your way. Does she look injured?"

"I- I don't know what I'm seeing… Holy shit, that's… there's so much blood, Mr Stark. I don't know what she's- How..."

As Peter starts to realize you must be doing magic of some sort, it seems to dawn on Tony Stark as well.

"Fuck. Strange warned me she'd do something dangerous. Kid, whatever you do, you gotta stop her!"

Poor Peter. There's no way he'll get through the protective shield you cast around you so you could conjure undisturbed and neither is anyone else, at least for now.

The last line in the conjuring spell rolls off your tongue and it is as if it all goes quiet around you. The very air seems to hold its breath, waiting…

Somewhere far away, you think you hear something crash into the magical barrier surrounding you, but maybe it's just your heartbeat throbbing in your ears.

It has to work. It has to. If no one shows, if your spell didn't reach out, down, then…

Then you don't think you can bear another second in this wasteland that was once a city.

The moments crawl by and you wait. There's nothing else to do anymore, is there?

Waiting, listening, praying. But then again, if praying did any good, you wouldn't be here.

"Now this is a pleasant surprise," a voice speaks up behind you and you can feel the blood turn to ice in your veins.

That voice, it can't be.

He's dead, you saw him die.

Very slowly, as if trying to delay the inevitable, you turn around to glance at what your efforts have brought forth.

No.

It's Bucky.

Or rather, it is a demon wearing Bucky's flesh. There's more left of your super soldier than you had dared to hope for, but the way the demon moves his legs and his arms and the way it crooks his head looking at you through eyes filled with empty blackness makes it clear that the most vital part must be gone.

He, it, smiles with the mouth of the man you love and you can feel the tears rise anew in your tired eyes.

You knew it would be bad, but this…

"Get out of him," you whisper, your throat clinging thickly to the words.

The thing inside Bucky's body grins and blood trickles out through his parted lips,  fresh red against the dried black on his chin and neck.

"Don't think so, dollface. It's not every day you get a call like this. Had to make an impression."

The voice, oh god, there's something in the voice you know so well seeping through from the demon using it to speak and it makes your stomach churn. It was only yesterday that same sweet voice told you that Bucky Barnes loved you, but hearing it now is a nightmare.

The demon leans on the other end of the destroyed bench you're using to keep yourself upright, biting its lower lip.

"I have to say, I couldn't believe my luck when you called. An Avenger." It whistles, letting its black eyes roam over your dirty, bruised form. "We make deals with celebrities and politicians all the time, but you! You're supposed to be beyond reproach, all of you. Untouchable. When I heard your summoning, I had to come myself. Someone like you deserves a more… personal treatment."

It reaches out and lets Bucky's fingers brush your cheek in a loving gesture that almost makes you gag.

In a brief moment, you manage to see past the face of your dead lover and look upon the being’s true face. It’s not just an ordinary demon. It’s the face of the Devil.

"You're quite the legend downstairs, you know," he says softly, stroking the tears and grime from under your eye with a dark metal thumb. "A lineage blood witch so powerful, working with SHIELD's leashed heroes to save the world… Failing, obviously." The smirk on his face is so wide and so vile you can't imagine Bucky ever producing that expression himself. "We're still baffled they didn't kill you as soon as they found you. Of course, you have played your big, brilliant savior-role splendidly. I almost shed a tear when you took that bullet for Lang's daughter. Oscar-worthy, truly."

"You really like to hear yourself talk, don't you?," you grit out. It's a struggle not to recoil from its touch.

The smirk grows impossibly wider.

"Can you blame me, sweetheart? I haven't worn a human in centuries. I'd almost forgotten how it feels."

He rolls Bucky's shoulders the way one might do trying on a new jacket.

"And this one is interesting. Technology these days." He chuckles, inspecting the metal arm and, mercifully, removing its fingers from you to have a closer look at them. "It's marvelous. Makes up for how dark it is in this grapefruit of his. This one doesn't need to go to Hell, he's practically there already. I feel right at home."

He chuckles, but it's like watching a wax figure coming to life and trying to act like the person whose image it was sculpted in. You have never seen or felt anything remotely as uncanny before.

You need to send the Devil back to Hell right now while he still hasn't hurt anyone.

"If you won't get out, I'll force you."

"Oh, please." The way the Devil smiles is overbearing. "Right now, I'm the only thing keeping lover boy ticking. Without me, he's just a dead meatsuit."

It feels like your lungs have been vacuumed.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"It can't be."

"Is too. Your precious Bucky is still in here. Not being very generous about sharing this body, I might add. The ungrateful bastard is screaming himself hoarse trying to get me to leave-"

"No!"

His smirk grows into another grin at your outburst and you both know he's got you exactly where he wants you.

"Thought not. As delightful as this back and forth threatening is, how about we cut to the chase? You don't exorcize me, I don't let your boyfriend bleed out. Instead, why don't you tell me what it is you want, hmm?"

The way your stomach rolls with pain has nothing to do with the hits you've taken in the fight so far.

"I want to make a deal." Your voice is only just audible over the wind, but Bucky's face lights up with malicious barely contained glee; he heard you loud and clear.

"Go on," he prompts, licking his lips.

"I…" The air in your shriveled lungs fails you, so you try again. "I want Bucky and Steve back, I want all of them back, I… want all of this to never happen."

And you are willing to do anything for it apparently.

But for the first time, he shakes his head.

"Oh, honey. Now why would I do that?"

"What?," you breathe, disbelief written all over your face.

"Think about it. How many people have died in the last twenty four hours alone? Business is flourishing. The souls are teeming into Hell and at this rate it won't stop any time soon. It's better than the damn Apocalypse! I don't wanna undo all of this."

Every instinct you have is screaming at you to send him back to Hell, but it is as though all the fight has gone out of you at the refusal. You were ready to offer anything in return, had prepared for it and now the damn thing won’t deal?

It’s the end of the world and you’re out of moves.

The end of the world…

The Apocalypse…

The thought strikes you so hard and so fast you almost think it’s a bullet.

“This isn’t the endgame you want,” you hear yourself say with far more conviction than you feel.

The Devil cocks his head, amusement trembling on his lips.

“Really?”

“People are dying-”

“Do you really think I care-”

“People are dying,” you maintain firmly, “and their souls go up or they go down, until they don’t. This isn’t an invasion, it’s an extermination.”. Bucky’s black eyes are burning into you, but you continue. “These invaders don’t plan on leaving anyone alive. It might take weeks or months even, but at some point, they’ll have killed every human on the planet and there’ll be no more souls for you to harvest. Ever. Your Apocalypse won’t even be able to happen because there’ll be nothing left for any of you to fight for. You’ll be rotting in the pit for eternity. How’s that for business, honey?”

Bucky’s features scrunch into a snarl and he janks you to him by your jaw. His fingers dig into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“I should snap Barnes’ beautiful little neck for good, you insolent-”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m right.”

“You’re too clever for your own good, sugar,” he hisses, holding you close enough to feel his breath on your face. “But you’re forgetting something. I’m not the only one up here dealing right now.”

Fuck.

Shit.

“Twenty six of my employees are up here as we speak, looking to close deals themselves. They are only waiting for me to give them the green light and those twenty-six other desperate humans, well, let’s just say… they’re not all as clever as you.”

He clenches your jaw again and you wince in pain.

If someone makes a demon deal on this scale, you can’t even begin to think of the consequences it will have if they don’t fully understand what they’re doing. And best case scenario still includes someone innocent signing over their soul.

“Fine. Get your minions in line and we’ll deal.”

“Atta girl.” Bucky’s metal arm goes around your shoulders and forces you to sit down on the charred remains of the bench seat. The close proximity, the way your body is now pressed against his makes you feel sick. “So, what do you think we can do for each other?”

"I want the world back the way it was before-"

"Yes, before the alien horde attacked it. You've said that already. Don't bore me, sweet cheeks," he warns and a shiver creeps through you. "How do you even know I have that kind of power, hm?"

"Don't you?"

“Depends on what I’m being offered,” he drawls and your skin runs cold. “I believe you know how this usually goes. One wish for one soul, collected ten years down the road. If that’s what you’re hoping for, I might as well leave it to my employees and call it a day.”

He trails Bucky’s vibranium fingers down the back of your neck, making goosebumps rise in their wake and you close your eyes as hard as you can to focus on thinking, not vomiting.

“You can have me.” The scene of the building falling on Steve keeps replaying itself in your mind’s eye over and over in a vicious loop, prompting you to force out the words. “My soul isn’t just any other soul. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Arrogant. But correct.”

“And I don’t need ten years, just one.” The knot in your stomach feels as though it has moved up into your throat and it hurts to speak around it.

“Why should I give you as much as a day? You’re not exactly asking for pennies, sugar. The magic you want from me is off the charts. You should consider yourself lucky I don’t deep-fry you for even suggesting it.”

He enjoys every word he speaks out of Bucky’s mouth the way one might a sip of Champagne. But you have to endure his teasing, otherwise… there is no otherwise.

Clenching your fists, you turn and meet his blacked out eyes.

“I’m the only Avenger you’ll ever get and you know it. Every one of them is ready to repent and I have it on good authority they’re quite large upstairs with whom they accept these days. The Asguardians have their own deal. Wanda Maximoff is probably going to outlive you. Strange too. And if you had Steve…” The firmness in your voice wobbles and your eyes grow hot with tears. “If you had Steve you would be rubbing it in my face,” you finish in a quieter tone. Bucky cocks his head with a smirk.

“Yes, I most certainly would.”

“So I’m all there is,” you maintain stubbornly, forcing yourself not to cry outright. "My soul and any future soul headed your way. A new possible eternity to gear up for your pissing contest with the halo crew. All I ask in return is a year. This year, the one we've just had."

"Interesting." He studies your face with a mix of triumph and amused apprehension. He's close. So close in fact that you can feel his breath on your lips and smell the dried blood in his mouth. "You do realize that proper wording is everything?"

"I do." You have to swallow hard not to gag or cry or maybe outright scream. This is the only play you have. If he doesn't agree, no one else is going to save you, save everyone. "My soul for a one year reset. Do we have a deal?"

He licks his lips slowly in thought, blacked out eyes never leaving yours.

“Not so fast, cherry pie. Your soul for another year still leads to this place, this moment. Earth overrun by an alien army and no more business for little old me. If you’re just trying to trick me into giving you more naked tumbling time with your soldier boys-”

“I am trying to save the world! And you’re how I’m going to do it, so unless one of those twenty-six other random idiots miraculously have a better offer for you, I suggest you take it.”

When you finally realize you’re shouting at the Devil, it’s too late. The familiar metal fingers are around your throat before you can even think to say you’re sorry and they’re squeezing so hard you’re sure you’ve used up his patience. It’s not like he’s known for it.

“You witches always were a bunch of condescending whores,” he hisses. It’s so quiet you can only hear him because his teeth are practically scraping your cheeks with the words. “I’ll take your sorry little deal, baby. And I’ll make sure your dear Jamie gets to watch and feel every single second of it. Give him a little taste of what’s waiting for you when it’s all over. A dreamy dose of nightmare fuel to top off the horror show in this melon.”

With the hand that’s still flesh and bone, he tears at your fitted tactical suit, easily ripping it open and exposing you to his gaze. Shame burns in your cheeks. You knew it would go this way, but for it to have to be Bucky…

He starts to peel off pieces of your torn suit until you’re bared in front of him. You’ve done rituals and sex spells before, shedding clothes is nothing new. But having them ripped from your body by the Devil wearing your lover with one hand while he chokes you with the other makes you feel naked in an entirely different way.

Normally when Bucky rips your clothes off, it makes you feel desired and sexy and powerful. This is… so far from that. It's cold and it's ugly. It makes you want to push him away with everything in your arsenal, your muscles, your magic, shit, you're ready to claw his face bloody with your fingernails, but you don't.

You just stay where you are and let him throw you to the ground, asphalt and tiles beneath the debris biting into the skin and bruises on your back.

Trying not to cry, because if you start there is no way you can stop.

The body lowering itself onto yours is at the same time familiar and foreign to you. As he starts to undo his belt and zipper of the tactical suit, you allow yourself for just a moment to imagine that it is Bucky, your Bucky. And that everything will be fine again.

But then his mismatched hands glide over your hips, squeezing far harder than Bucky ever would, and there is no way you can keep imagining it's really him, no way you want to.

Bucky didn't consent to this. 

Because of what you've done, he is once again a prisoner in his own mind and even though he won't remember this, despite what the Devil said to rattle you, that is no excuse. He is being used all over again for something that Bucky himself would never allow. To make a deal with the Devil, to conjure dark magic… to hurt you. It has got to be his worst nightmare made real, all over again.

All because you were careless and desperate.

I'm sorry, my love, you think, closing your eyes.

This was meant to be your sacrifice and yours alone.

Bucky's body feels a thousand times heavier upon your own than it usually is, but you know it has to be that way, otherwise the last shred of your conscience would crumble completely. This has to hurt you too.

His warm hand slips in between your legs and his smirk is right above your face, dripping hot blood into your eyes.

"Think you can give me a little something to work with, honey?," he grins and drags his fingers through your folds, making you squirm to get away before you can stop yourself. "You know we both gotta commit here."

You grit your teeth and force yourself to lie still. The fingers you know so well start to circle your clit, but it takes forever before you feel anything but discomfort - little threads of warmth, only the beginnings of something pleasurable - and at that point, your little nub is too sore from the pressure for it to do much.

"Tough customer, huh," he smirks, clearly enjoying your helplessness. "Don't worry, I'll get you there, sweetheart. I've got everything I need in here, inside Barnes' pretty head…"

That may be so, but you can feel the difference because this isn't Bucky, not really. He kisses you roughly on the mouth. It's a struggle not to gag, but accept his tongue and let him explore. He tastes of dirt and blood and magic. He takes his time.

His fingers begin working between your legs again, slower this time, in a motion that forces a surprised little gasp out of you. He slides one thick finger in between your lips, barely dipping into you at first, just stroking your folds languidly and occasionally massaging your clit again with much gentler motions than first.

The way Bucky would do it.

The first time your legs tremble around his hand, he smirks and moves his kisses to the side of your neck.

“Knew you’d warm up to me, sugar,” he grins, licking up the underside of your jaw. “Just imagine it’s really me… doll.”

You can't help it, you let out a tiny whimper against his ear and it's not all pain anymore. You know better than this, but fuck, he's using that voice, the deep, gravelly one that goes straight to your core so much faster and more effective than his fingers.

And even though it’s wrong, you’ve made your choice. You made it the second you started writing the summoning spell.

So in the end, you lean your head back on the ground and close your eyes, let him work you over until you can’t hold back the moans any longer. They spill out of you as Bucky’s fingers rub your clit in faster and faster circles, his other hand holding you down because your hips are shaking and bucking away from the onslaught of pleasure his touch evokes, more and more, there is no way your body can take it…

The pleasure peaks and sparks through your veins. It feels awful. It feels delicious.

All your aching muscles pulse with the orgasm and he doesn’t stop to let you come down, no, instead he plunges two fingers into you and continues to rub your clit with his thumb while he searches for the spot inside of you that immediately makes you cry out when he touches it. 

“There we go, doll, you can give me one more.”

Smirking, even with your eyes closed you know he has to be smirking at the way your body reacts to him.

And you do give him one more. His fingers stroke and rub your sweet spot expertly while the rough pad of his thumb keeps pressure on your clit just the way Bucky always does when he wants to keep you strung high on pleasure and it works. Another orgasm crashes into the ebb of the former and makes you wail into his long, dirty hair. He keeps you locked in place even when you jolt in his hold, thrashing almost because it's too much, it feels too good, you're burning up from all the places his hand is touching you.

You whimper as he withdraws his fingers, soaked in your glistening wetness but he doesn't leave you wanting for very long.

He starts unbuckling his tactical belt and it falls to the ground with a clank. His pants follow shortly and you’re still shaking, still too overwhelmed in the afterglow of your sweet Bucky’s fingers as he takes out his cock and slides it through your slick folds with a grin on those bloodied lips.

“Deal’s on, baby,” he whispers and the sting of his teeth drawing blood from your earlobe disappears when he buries his cock within your walls in one, smooth thrust.

Your eyes roll back into your head and inside your fitted combat boots you curl your toes at the feeling. Your mouth falls open in a gasp of pitiful ecstasy.

Somewhere in the haze of pain and adrenaline and grief and serotonin and the primal fear of dying, your mind still knows this is wrong and that you should be utterly revolted by what the two of you are doing with Bucky’s body, but you just can’t.

The warmth of your lover’s familiar form is a balm on your heart that you don’t deserve, but you welcome it anyway. The salty taste of your tears of pleasure overshadows the bitter tang of blood. He groans in your ear.

Every thrust of his hips feel like home.

You almost cry out his name, it feels so good, but you bite down the instinct at the last second. Instead you close your eyes and try to lose yourself in the wild rhythm of your joined bodies that has you clinging onto him for dear life. The pace is brutal. You never expected otherwise.

And soon enough, the heat is blazing up in you again, making you groan, making you squeeze down on him.

“Oh God, fuck… fuck…,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulders and Bucky’s laugh that you know so well washes over you.

“God doesn’t care, dollface,” he grins, leaning back just enough to get the metal hand in between you and rub his thumb on your clit, “just be glad that I do.”

He moves his hips faster, pinning you down by the hips with the hand not between your legs and this time you do scream.

As your body finally succumbs to the pleasure, you throw your head back and wail into the darkness around you. It reverberates through both of you, through the ground and your shield and the slab of stone covered in your bloody summons. You writhe and thrash in his grip under the wave of the orgasm crashing through you, wanting it to be over, wanting it to go on forever.

And with a sound somewhere between a broken moan and a winded, manic laugh, the demon on top of you at last spills his cum inside of you to seal the magical contract.

He doesn’t stop moving until your cunt has milked every drop from him, your soft silken walls pulsing with the climax long after he’s done.

You want to lie there and bask in the afterglow until your shielding spell fails, pretending just a while longer that you’re lying in Bucky’s loving arms while you wait for the inevitable end of everything.

Every little piece of you wants it.

The tears that roll down your grimy cheeks now are cold.

The ground is getting harder under your stiff back and you can feel the chill quickly settling in your bones.

“Well, that was certainly worth my time.” You grit your teeth against the sight of Bucky’s blacked out eyes so close to yours and steel yourself as much as you can.

He softly strokes your cheek and makes a show of pulling out of you slowly, kissing you sweetly on your stubbornly shut lips the way the real Bucky would have done.

It’s a struggle not to wince but somehow you manage to lie there and let his antics wash over you without blinking. As soon as he steps away from you though, you’re off the ground and covering yourself up the best you can with what’s left of your torn tactical suit.

He zips himself back into the confines of his pants completely unhurried.

“So…” He stretches both arms leisurely above his head, looking you over. It would make your skin crawl if you had the time to really think about it but you don’t let yourself think at all. There’s no room for anything but what you’re about to do.

“So what?,” you shoot back mirthlessly. “We have a deal. Now deliver.”

“Your bedside manners are terrible, did loverboy here ever tell you that?”

The inside of your cheek breaks between your teeth as you hold back a furious retort.

“Don’t worry sugarplum, I am going to work my magic and make all of this nastiness go away.” He twirls on the spot, savoring the wreckage of New York around him. “But I am still curious. What are you going to do with your year, hm?”

It’s still difficult to look at him and not see Bucky. Your heart aches in your chest like a wound when the thought strikes you that this is the last time you’re going to see him and it isn’t even really him. Just the devil wearing his body. A body you just helped defile.

But you still manage to meet his eyes.

“I’m going to cast a spell. Turn those aliens into fucking dust before they even set eyes on this planet.”

You can feel the world slowly starting to change around you as you speak. It’s like a wet painting left outside in the rain, colors dripping down the canvas until the motive is all blurry shapes and splotches of acrylics.

Time is crawling backwards outside of your protective circle.

Bucky’s mouth twitches.

“You are very powerful, no doubt about that. But one spell against an army? You’re not exactly The Scarlet Witch, babycakes. Did a roll in the hay with little old me incite such illusions of grandeur in that lovely little head of yours?”

“Nimue’s Hand,” you bite and in less than a second Bucky’s features shift into a mask of rage. It’s almost satisfying when his fingers close around your throat and squeeze.

“You fucking whore!”, he yells into your face, slamming you against the concrete wall still bloodied from your summoning spell. “You filthy, cheating little… witch.”

And despite the fact that you can hardly breathe, that your vision is going fuzzy at the edges and a fresh pain is swelling in the back of your head, you grin at him.

“That’s right. You know that spell, don’t you?”

You don’t have to ask. Of course he knows.

Nimue’s Hand is an ancient spell of pure annihilation. No one has ever cast it before, otherwise… the world would know it. It has been passed down through the generations of witches as far back as the line has existed, whispered from mother to daughter for hundreds of years, probably even longer.

It is a morsel of forbidden knowledge that despite everything has managed to stay a secret lurking in the very depths of every witch’s consciousness, never spoken aloud, never used.

Until now.

The spell is so powerful that casting it will rip your very soul to shreds and scatter them among the stars. You are never going to find rest but it’s a cost you’re willing to pay.

A last resort.

Bucky roars and lets go of you, punching the wall next to your head so hard the whole thing disintegrates. But that is all he can do.

You have a deal.

He never said an intact soul. And af all, proper wording is everything.

It’s your turn to laugh. Wheezing and coughing, you can’t help it. At this point, it is all you really have to laugh about.

The world is coming into view around you again. You’re no longer wearing the tactical gear from the battle but instead the dress you were wearing a year ago is materializing on your skin. Bucky’s wounds are healing, the blood is disappearing and his suit is changing into running shorts and a white T-shirt. Together with his black eyes and the way he snarls and yells in fury, it looks almost comical.

You can’t dwell on it though.

You’re on a clock now.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” you manage to get out as you brush the concrete dust off your arms. “I’ll see you in a year.”

He grips your upper arm so tightly you know it’s going to bruise but you can’t care about that now. Slowly he leans in and traces a finger down the side of your face with the flesh hand, pure and utter hatred seeping from his every pore.

“Oh, I’ll see you, Y/N. I’m going to stick every last piece of that splintered soul I’m owed back together, no matter how long it takes and when I do… well…”

His nail cuts into the skin on your jaw, making you wince despite yourself.

“I’m not going to be as sweet as Jamie here.”

You try not to shudder as he lets go of you and turns to leave. You allow yourself to see him walk away and the exact moment the devil leaves Bucky’s body is obvious.

He stops in the middle of what is no longer a burned out crater, but instead an almost empty street in the early afternoon, and looks around a bit disoriented. 

Fresh tears prickle at your eyes and you can feel your heart nearly coming to a stop in your chest.

This is the day you first met. In a few moments he is going to turn around and see you, ask you for directions because he got lost in his own head for a bit and must have turned down the wrong street. His slightly embarrassed little smile as he said it…

The second before he spots you, you turn around and walk away, leaving him behind.

Fists clenched, vision blurred.

Angrily, you wipe at your eyes, ignoring how easy it would be to turn back and still bump into him, to get that wonderful year with him and Steve again.

You can’t think like that.

It takes a lot of effort to prepare your soul for the casting of your spell and after all, you did make a deal. You need to focus.

Your time is already running out.

[versadies]

MY ONLY ONE. (itto x gn!reader)

✧༺♥༻∞ YOU HAVE RECEIVED A LETTER, LET’S SEE WHAT’S INSIDE ! ∞༺♥༻✧

salutations: @favoniuscodex / axia’s favorites with friends collab !

addressed: arataki itto (w/ gn!reader)

content: fluff/slight-angst, mentions of injuries, spoilers to inazuma archon quest (part 1-4), and lots of hugs and wholesomeness ! inspired by ONLY by leehi :>>

word count: 2.0k+ words

sypnosis: your firsts in your relationship with your number one oni: arataki itto

penpal note: hello axia !! i apologize in advance if i posted this early or late - timezones can be confusing 😥😥 i hope this is to your liking alongside our fellow readers <<3 ! (p.s. i hope you don’t mind me making the first dance at a wedding a bit different!)

when itto had his first kiss with you, he felt like he forgot his own name.

he remembers a lot of things about you – just like your birthday. it’s a shame that half of your friends forgot about your big day, how idiotic of them! how could they forget such a special day like your birthday? he won’t forget this >:(((

but then he remembered how you needed comfort more than him teaching those so-called friends of yours a lesson, and he didn’t hesitate to stand beside you as you cry your heart out.

he remembers how to comfort you, after so many years of spending time with his bestest friend in the entire world. he knows what to say and what to do that’ll make you feel like you’re not alone, because you have him and he has you.

so he tries to wrap his arms around you and pats your back reassuringly, telling you that you’re better off celebrating without them and you should spend time with those that remembered – *coughs* aka him *coughs* – and that was enough for your cries to slowly lower down.

he remembers how to make you smile, something that he keeps to his heart as he swears to celestia that he’ll make you the happiest person in the world. it was a weird feeling, he admits. it’s weird that he feels so dedicated to making you smile but it’s fine at the same time - seeing you smile because of him gives him the feeling of victory.

so he tries to tell a lot of jokes that he knows of that made him laugh – he could care less about the fact that said jokes are bad as long as you laugh at it. his heart skips a beat when you lightly laugh at one of his jokes.

he also remembers how much you like being called sunshine after so many times of the nickname spilling out from his mouth despite your “dislike” to the name, so he makes sure to call you sunshine throughout his attempts of comforting you.

“there’s the smile that made me call you my sunshine,” he teases, causing you to feel your cheeks starting to warm. “do you feel better now?”

you nodded in response, wiping your tears with your cloth. “yeah.. thanks for making me feel better, itto.” you spoke, voice hoarse from crying.

without thinking, he suddenly gives you a peck kiss on your cheek, causing your eyes to widen in surprise.

itto realized what he did after seeing your reaction, his face suddenly turns red in embarrassment and started ranting out an apology.

the oni realized that there was nothing to apologize for after you peck kiss him as well, but instead of his cheek, it was on his lips instead.

no amount of words could explain how his face turned even more red throughout the rest of your birthday.

when itto first said “i love you” to you, you felt like you were on the verge of death. literally.

you were strolling around narukami island to hunt for boars when you’re suddenly ambushed by the vision hunters, causing you to realize that you forgot to hide your vision in your safe home before leaving outside.

it wouldn’t have been this difficult had you not drained yourself from fighting certain fatui members along the way to your hunt – another mistake of yours.

was this an unlucky day for you? you wonder, wincing in pain as one of the soldiers successfully stabbed you in the abdomen and grabbed your vision at your weakened state.

another mistake of yours was fighting the soldiers at such a secluded place instead of running away, which means there’s a small possibility of any passerbys in the area besides the fatui lurking around.

this is your unlucky day, it seems.

it didn’t take long before you hear the familiar sounds of your best friend along with the arataki gang talking not too far away from where you are, and you try to use all of your energy to shout out his name.

.

.

.

what was his name again?

you panicked when you realized you had forgotten his name. why were you calling out to him? why… why were you fighting those soldiers again?

who’s “him”?

you feel someone lifting you up bridal-style. “sunshine! are you okay?!” a white-haired man who’s carrying you exclaims as he runs away with you in his arms, heading towards a direction you aren’t sure of. “i swear, that tengu warrior will pay for what she did to you–!”

you didn’t have enough energy to say a word to the unknown yet familiar man, your vision begins to blur, your breathing starts to become heavier and heavier with every second passing by.

“don’t leave me, sunshine,” he commands. “i won’t let you leave, not when you still don’t know how much i love you!”

those were the last words you hear before falling unconscious.

by the time you wake up with your bandages healed up and your vision beaming beside you, you hear the same words from the same man, but this time, you remember him: arataki itto, the love of your life.

when you gave itto a spare key to your place for the first time, he was surprised.

it was after the vision hunt decree was banned, whereas you and your lover spend the day with a picnic, admiring the now peaceful and wonderful view that narukami island has to offer as the both of you ate the food that you made.

by the time the both of you finished eating is the time when you decided to give him a key, smiling cheekily without a word as he examines the key in confusion.

at first, itto thought it’s a key to a secret treasure chest that has everything he desires, a key to a secret room where you and he can meet up without getting caught by the vision hunt decree, or even a key that’s just an accessory for him to show off – but a key to your actual house? his jaw instantly drops to the ground when you explain to him the purpose of the key.

“why did you give me a key to your house?”

“..why wouldn’t i?” you ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“who knows? maybe this is your way of saying “hey imma leave and set sail since inazuma’s borders are open so please take care of my house and–”

“hey hey hey, i wouldn’t do that!” you defended, eyebrows furrowed at the sight of itto trying to mimic you and your voice. “besides, i didn’t give you the key because of that, it’s because you’re allowed to move into my house now.”

your explanation made him stop mimicking you.

“..did i hear that right? could you repeat that?”

you rolled your eyes with a smile. “i’m saying you can move in with me when you’re ready. do i have to spell it o–” you yelped when you suddenly feel your lover’s huge arms wrapping around yours with a grin on his face.

“aw yeah, i can get to spend with the love of my life 24/7!” he said with a laugh.

you let out a small laugh in response, hugging him back. “you can move in when you feel like it, i made some space for your stuff as well.”

“even my hairbrushes?”

“even your hairbrushes.”

“aw yeah!”

itto then separates himself from your hug, his eyes slightly widens in realization. “are we going to uh, sleep next to each other then?”

your mouth opens agape.

oh right.

when you first wake up next to itto, you feel flustered.

it was awkward when your lover mentioned to you about sleeping next to each other after giving him a spare key to your home. in all honesty, the thought never crossed your mind while you were planning on letting him move in.

still, it didn’t exactly stop the both of you from deciding to sleep on the same futon – you’re honestly surprised that itto even managed to fit in the pad that you thought would be too small for him, only to see how the both of you seemed to perfectly fit on the futon together.

you couldn’t help but stare at the oni, giggling lightly when you hear his loud snoring. you’d think that the whole neighborhood would hear him if you opened the window.

his hair was also disheveled around his pillow, something you’re not even used to seeing since he always makes sure his hair is fixed. who knew that even with messy hair, he’d still look attractive? you thought to yourself.

however, none of these things you see from the oni were the reasons why you felt so flustered.

it was the fact that his arm is wrapped around you in a tight grip, leaving you no choice but to accept the fact that you’re stuck with him until he wakes up.

at this rate, master ayato will pull a lecture on me, you thought, hoping to celestia that itto will actually wake up early and let you go to work.

does he even wake up early?

you feel your breath hitch when he suddenly pulls you closer to him, your face now close to his chest as he continues to sleep away without a care.

you’re used to hugging the man, but never on a futon.

you glance at a nearby clock on your wall, letting out a sigh when you find out it’s almost time for your work.

nope, he doesn’t wake up early.

oh well, you thought to yourself, nuzzling closer to your lover. work could wait.

when itto first dances at your friend’s wedding with you, all he could think about is how you’d look good in white.

it was his first time traveling to another nation, mondstadt and he was nervous. he only came because of you, who insisted that he should go and accompany you as “your number one greatest protector” on such an occasion.

if calling him your number one was a way to trick him into going, it definitely worked.

he was surprisingly behaved throughout the whole trip – and even helped a lot of people while the both of you were walking around the city of freedom to explore.

in reality, the oni was just nervous, given that he’s in a place that he doesn’t know much. you could only try to contain your laughter from the look on his face when sara from good hunter explains how mondstadt doesn’t cook ramen at all.

right now, the both of you are slowly dancing around the dance hall with half of your friend’s guests, with you teaching itto how to slow dance.

itto may be a good singer and dancer, but slow dancing? that one is way out of his league – and something that isn’t even used in inazuma!

yet, seeing you laughing and smiling from ear-to-ear as you patiently help his poor soul in trying to slow dance with you, making sure that he doesn’t step on your and anyone else’s shoes made his thoughts about marriage appear.

marriage is.. well, something that doesn’t come to his mind – neither is his future with you, since he’s pretty much very fine with the present. besides, the both of you haven’t discussed anything about marriage at all and it was clear that you want to take things slow and easy. although he sometimes dances around the idea of marriage whenever he’s with you, he never thought about it completely.

perhaps your friend’s wedding was a push for him. a push to start thinking about it after 2 years of officially dating you.

would you say yes if he proposed? what if you straight-out reject him because you don’t wanna marry an oni? what if you ran away on the day the both of you are getting married?

his thoughts were cut off when you call out his name with a concerned look on your face.

“are you alright, itto?” you ask, cupping his cheek with your one hand as your other hand holds his. “what are you thinking about?”

he opens his mouth for a moment, only to stop himself from telling about his thoughts and nods at your question in response. “of course i am sunshine. why wouldn’t i be, when i’m dancing with you?”

you didn’t exactly believe his words, but decided to not encourage him to talk about it for now, not when he suddenly starts carrying you and twirls you around with a boisterous laugh, causing you to shriek in surprise.

in the end, itto felt assured that his future still has you, as the both of you walk down to the inn hand-in-hand with you holding the bouquet that the bride threw, landing on your hands despite you not trying to catch it.

[ftchanwoo]

hello friends !! i’m mimi ( 𝐦𝐢𝐦𝐢 ♥#7025 ) and i live in atlantic canada putting me in a weird timezone but i just say est because close enough... i use she/her pronouns and well.. i don’t know anything else to say about myself. i like to read, listen to music and i am trash for SKZ, ATEEZ, Seventeen and NCT. but also many more groups those are just the top few fdjkghdfkg anyway,,, here is chanwoo because he’s way more interesting than i am... but i would like to apologize right now for the length, i was full of inspiration and muse.

—— look who’s joining the infinite tour! only YOON CHANWOO (CHANWOO), who is the MAIN DANCER of PHOENIX. i’ve heard whispers that the 22 year old is pretty CHARMING but lowkey ALOOF. also, doesn’t he remind you of HWANG HYUNJIN?

BASIC INFORMATION

full  name : yoon chanwoo nickname(s)  : chan  ,  charlie  ( english name  )  ,  woo  ,  cw preferred  name(s)  :  chanwoo, chan birth  date  :  december 24th 2000 age  :  twenty two zodiac :  capricorn gender  : cis male   pronouns   :  he / him romantic  orientation  :   biromantic sexual  orientation   : bisexual nationality  : south korean ethnicity  :   asian

BACKGROUND

birth  place  : incheon  ,  south korea hometown  : incheon  ,  south korea social  class  :  upper class father  : yoon daemin mother  :  cha sooyoung sibling(s)   :  yoon minwoo  ( older brother --  deceased  ) pet(s)  :  sunni ( the german shephard ) previous  relationship(s)  : tba.

PHYSICAL  APPEARANCE  &  CHARACTERISTICS  

eye  color  : dark brown hair  color  :  changes frequently depending on his mood  ,  currently blonde glasses  /  contacts  :  doesn’t need them but will sometimes wear glasses without prescription for the aesthetic height  :  5′10″ build  : small  ,  lean exercise  habits  : can sometimes be convinced to workout, but not often.

MANNERISMS

accent  :  local accent quirks  :  is never fully still  ,  he is always tapping ,  bouncing  ,  wiggling  ,  dancing  ,  he hums all the time  . hobbies  : dance  ,   drawing  ,  going on adventures habits  :  looses everything all the time  ,  zones out from time to time nervous  ticks  : fidgets a lot  ,  rambles when speaking ( he also does this when not nervous  ,  it just gets worse when he is  ) fears  : heights  ,  failure positive  traits  : motivated  ,  friendly  ,  charming negative  traits  :  afraid of commitment  ,  flakey  ,  secretive

IMPORTANT  /  BACKGROUND

TW  :  death of a sibling  .

chanwoo was born into a wealthy family one snowy winter night and from the moment he took his first breath his parents decided he was destined for greatness  .  chanwoo was going to be their shining star  .  he was going to be the son they would brag about to all their friends and family  .  he just had to be after they’d spent so long listening to others at their gatherings brag about how their children were so successful for years  .  so  ,  upon his first words he was put into acting lessons and his first steps meant he was enrolled in dance  .  he attended elite programs and was training before he was old enough to audition for an agency  .  luckily for his parents  ,  he was good at it all  ,  a true natural talent  .

while other kids his age were figuring themselves out  ,  attending school  ,  trying different sports and activities and deciding on their futures  --  chanwoo’s was mapped out for him  .  he watched his brother (  rather enviously )   hang out with his friends on weekends  ,   play soccer and then quit  ,  play basketball and quit  ,  take up fencing for a period of two weeks before changing his mind  .  it made chanwoo wonder what it must be like to be able to explore all the world had to offer  .  it was a point of tension between the brothers  ,  minwoo’s ability to be whomever he wished to be and chanwoo’s position as star child with all the attention  .  they just couldn’t understand one another and could therefore never get along  .

fortunately for their parents  ,  they didn’t have long to deal with the sibling rivalry as at the age of eleven chanwoo passed his audition and almost immediately moved into the trainee dorms  .  it was a bit of a culture shock for the preteen  --  going from a grand  ,  though quiet house with just his immediate family to the dorms with loads of other boys and minimal space  .  it was also challenging for the young boy in other ways  .  despite his likeable and easily charming personality  ,  in the environment where everyone is your competition it was hard for him to make friends  .  the kids his own age envied the experience and training he had that went beyond his years  ,  the work that put him one step ahead of the rest  .  those older than him assumed him to be a bratty rich kid who was here because his parents bought his way in  .  all of it just made chanwoo want to work harder  ,  to be the best based on his talent and prove them all wrong  .

he did what he had to do to be at the top of the rankings  ,  he spent hours of his own time in the studio perfecting his basics in dance  ,  he sought feedback on how to make his vocals stronger  ,  how to improve his stage presence and how to enunciate more clearly when he rapped ( though that was his one weakness )  .  the hard work paid off in the end  ,  at the age of fourteen chanwoo was set to make his debut as the maknae in a new ten member group  .  in training together  ,  he also finally found a place he belonged  , these boys no longer saw him as their competition and so they treated him as they would a younger brother  .  he had friends  ,  he had members and a team  .

that was until he was in the studio one day recording his bits for their debut and his world was flipped upside down  .  his manager came in and told him that he needed to go home  ,  there was a car waiting for him outside  .  of course chanwoo didn’t ask questions  ,  he did as his manager told him  .  when he arrived his mother was crying  ,  holding him tight and saying she was never going to let her baby out of her sight again  .  his dad was silent  .  he was told there’d been an accident  .  it took hours for him to gather the details  ,  minwoo had been in a fatal accident that morning while on his way to university  .  chanwoo didn’t believe it at first  .  it couldn’t be  --  he hadn’t even properly gotten the chance to make things right with his elder brother  .  he couldn’t just be gone  .

in the aftermath of tragedy  ,  chanwoo pulled out of the debut lineup and they would go on without him as a nine member group  .  he stopped training all together and moved back home  .  he took care of his mother and tried to keep his family together  .  he spent time trying to understand his brother and feel closer to him in the ways he could  ,  regretting that he’d never gotten that chance  .  chanwoo tried different activities  ,  he was terrible at all of them  .  he attended high school regularly and made friends who weren’t potential idols  .  he realized how little he knew about the world  .  his whole life had been training for stardom but there was so much more out there  .

but as time went on  ,  chanwoo grew restless  .  he missed the long  ,  gruelling days of training  .  he missed the routine  .  most of all he found that he missed dancing  .  he may not have originally chosen it for himself but he’d fallen in love with it  .  now that he’d taken a step back he realized that he didn’t know anything else but he also didn’t want to know anything else  .  he wanted to be an idol  ,  he wanted to perform  .  

it took some convincing  ,  but eventually with his mother’s approval he went back to training after a two year hiatus  .  of course  ,  he fallen behind and had to put in extra hours and people whispered about his fall from the top  .  but chanwoo felt he was back where he was meant to be  .  he finally knew this was what he wanted for himself and worked harder than ever  .  if he thought he’d been motivated before by the whispers about his favouritism  ,  he was even more motivated now by his own desire  .

chanwoo was always meant to be a star and it wasn’t even a full year after his return to being a trainee that he was put into the lineup for phoenix  .  this time he wasn’t going to let anything get in his way  .  he succeeded in that goal  ,  he made his debut as the main dancer and has loved every moment of living out his dream with his members  .  

part of chanwoo’s charm within the group is that despite his two year hiatus from the industry  ,  it’s still all he really knows  .  he’s pretty clueless to how the real world works and can always be counted on for a bit of a laugh when it comes to simple everyday tasks  .

KPROFILE - PHOENIX MEMBERS

Stage Name: Chanwoo (찬우) Birth Name: Yoon Chanwoo (윤찬우) Position: Main Dancer, Lead Vocal, Sub Rapper, Visual Birthday: December 24th 2000 Zodiac Sign: Capricorn Height: 178 cm (5’10″) Weight: – Blood Type: O MBTI Type: ENFJ

Chanwoo Facts: – He was born in Incheon, South Korea. – He has an older brother who passed away when he was fourteen. – His nicknames are CW and Charlie. – He hates tomatoes (Weekly Idol Ep. 574) - TBC

WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS

platonic  ───  

unlikely  friends

a  nice  wholesome  best  friend  &  confidant

childhood friends

someone who is also as free spirited as chanwoo and they go on adventures together

neighbours

they were trainee’s together and have a close bond

00′ line friends

any other form of friendship really

romantic ───  

first  kiss  /  first  relationship  /  first  love

a  past  or  present  unrequited  crush  from  either  side

exes  on  good  or  bad  terms  (  eyes  emoji  .......  the  spice  )  

friends  with  benefits  

a one  night  stand

negative  ───  

someone  who  just  doesn't  click  with  them  (  this is probably someone more uptight who can’t stand how chanwoo seems to not have a care in the world  )  

friends  who  had  a  falling  out  

anything else to bring the d r a m a

[melimpostor]

Hello Meli!! Hope you're doing well :3

For the artist ask game: 1, 5, 7, 8, 16, 20

Hello Moon !! Thank you for your ask !! I'm doing fine, i hope you're having a good timezone ! ♥ ► 1. When did you start creating art? A while back ! I think this year marks 15 years which is wild when i think about it..

► 5. What piece of art are you still proud of to this day? (Show or describe)

Oh, since you like space i'll show you this one ! I made it for a drawing contest back in 2021. The subject was "Life in all its forms" . And yeah my entry was not subtle at all-

► 7. Who are some artists that have inspired you? They are many ! I tend to find something inspiring in every artist i follow but i'll mention one i'm sure you know- Isayama Hajime Yeah- I mean it seems obvious right? I'm inspired by his path as an author. The dude had 1 story in mind (with several iteration yes, but it's one and the same) And it is that 1 story he delivered. He recieved backlash and criticism about his art, his takes , his ending from left and right... Deserved or not, in the end he stayed true to his vision, and i respect that. Also, that gigachad decided to retire after his grand masterpiece to make his little quiet onsen place? Hell yeah, that's the american dream equivalent for an artist right there XD Anyway, he inspired me to tell my own story as well. In a writing perspective, there is a lot of lessons in foreshadowing and worldbuilding we can learn from the guy. He also reminded me that you can't always please everyone, so might as well go for it, you know? . Then i'll make my little onsen business too- ► 8 and 16 I answered those ones here !

► 20. What motivates/inspires you artistically? (topics, emotions, etc) I would say that emotions is what starts my urge of drawing something. But i'm lucky enough to be easily inspired in general. I'm listening to a very catchy song? Boom ! i'll make a clip in my head. I'm watching a film? Boom! "i wonder how X would react in this situation" A meme is making me laugh ? Boom ! i'll slap charas on it I want to go somewhere but somehow can't ? Boom ! i'll draw charas doing it instead ! I read a very spicy meta on tumblr ? Boom- The amount of fic fanart i would draw if i had infinite freetime...

Thank you very much for your asks ! ♥♥

[teenwolf-theoriginals]

Hi Mia! I hope you’re having a lovely weekend!

I just wanted to drop in and say that I appreciate you and all of the wonderful stories you’re sharing with us.

Sending good vibes for the week ahead! 💕

hey, love. yeah, it’s been alright. hope yours is going well (or was, timezones, i don’t know, ahaha)

aw, thank you. that’s very sweet of you. ♥︎

good vibes are needed, especially for ‘sweetheart. thank you for sending some!

[mllekurtz]

~ first posted on August 27, 2019 ~

Chapters: 2/2

Fandom: Good Omens (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)

Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)

Additional Tags: Light Angst, Fluff and Angst, Pining, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, how many times can you use the word soft?, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens)

Summary:

Angels and demons draw their powers from Heaven and Hell, respectively.

When that link weakens, so does their power.

They have to start drawing it from somewhere else.

Read on AO3

*

Soooooo I’m not big on anniversaries, but a year ago I posted my first fic on AO3 and it kinda snowballed from there (pun absolutely intended), so here’s a sappy post about it.

This fandom has brought into my life so much joy and so many wonderful people, it’s honestly a bit insane when I think about it. It brought writing back into my life, and - as much as I like to complain about a hobby that’s 99% stress - I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m so grateful for the late night/early morning talks (timezones! a blessing and a curse), for the comments, the recs, the silliness and the seriousness, the group rewatches, the support, the fanarts btw I’m still in a state of total disbelief that people would make fanarts of my fics like W H A T even, for the GO people who followed me/welcomed me in other fandoms, for the fact that my life is so much richer than it was a year ago.

Thank you, and many happy returns ♥