#he was there first when john was at his lowest

[rin-hanarin]

Clingy and possessive? Damn bro, get well soon.

[lisbonsteresa]

you don't get how crazy i'm going over this

[noctxj]

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

part i / part ii / part iii / part iv

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

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

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

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

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

pleasedontlookatme—

whatdoyousee—?

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

pleasejohndont—

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

bullseye— 

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

soblue—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“of course, captain.”

lies.lies.lies.

⋆.✧̣̇˚.

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

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

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

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

agent is running out of time.

⋆.✧̣̇˚.

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

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

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

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

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

agent acknowledges this. pain is pain after all—

whats more to add to the pile?

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

tric’s notes

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

thanks for reading!! ♡︎♡︎

crossposted on ao3 (same username!)

[physical-manifestation-of-spite]

I keep thinking about Arthur's regression at the end of Season 2 and then into Season 3. I keep thinking about how victims of trauma tend to get worse once they escape their traumatic situation. How their body and mind start to crack and shake under the weight of the horrors, now safe enough to escape the survivorship mindset but now forced to endure the fallout.

I keep thinking of how hard Faroe's death hit Arthur. How his guilt and grief were so intense that he wanted to kill himself, so low that he drank himself into a stupor for who knows how many years to just dull the pain. I keep imagining how hard it was to pull himself out of that, to work with Parker and find a new meaning in life, to walk away from his guilt of killing his daughter, and instead to help people.

(I keep thinking of how Arthur finds a vial of alcohol in the Dreamlands. How he sniffs it and recoils in disgust.)

I keep thinking of how long it took for Arthur to build himself back up from his lowest point, to tuck the guilt of Faroe in the deepest corner of his mind just so that he has enough room to breathe, to live, to be a better person. (And yet, Faroe is every facet of his life. It's his first memory in Season One, when he plays Faroe's Song, when he doesn't even remember his own name. It's the last name on his lips when he dies on that boat. It's his only memory when John is torn away from him.) I keep thinking about how Arthur is consciously repressing her every second of every day just so that he can keep going.

And then John pushes, and asks, and asks again. And finally, after almost dying twice with this entity, after surviving time and time again, he thinks he can trust him. He thinks he can share his deepest secret, to pull open the wound he keeps stitching over to protect himself. How he risks feeling the grief he's suppressed for years to trust someone. I keep thinking how John seizes it and, because he is ancient and young and inexperienced, childlike in his tantrums and his fears of responsibility and consequence, he uses it as a weapon the moment he's backed into a corner. I keep thinking of how not only the trust is torn away from Arthur, but how his wound is stretched and torn, and not only does his guilt and grief come back, but it's like a tidal wave that he cannot suppress this time. He's opened that wound and John has pried it wider, and now Arthur can't shut it. He survives in those pits, but she is all he thinks of. He escapes those pits, and ("Goodbye, Faroe.") she is all he thinks of. He slits his throat and she's all he thinks of.

He enters at icy cabin (a small gurgle, a bundle of blankets in his arm, a warm hum rumbling in his chest as he lulls his whole World to sleep) and he thinks of her to keep going.

And then Yellow enters, a blank slate, a John before he was John, and the pain is too fresh. This is the thing that tortured him. This is the thing that starved him. This is the thing who asked who his daughter was, and when he told him, the thing called him a killer. John and Yellow and the King are all the same in that moment, and Arthur's too fucked up and traumatized to separate them tangibly, as much as he insists that he can. His hatred grows and grows, all from himself, until it bleeds into Yellow, and he remakes this entity in his image, in his self-pitying hatred.

So when Yellow finally calls him a monster (and Arthur knows, he's called himself that the moment he saw the water spill from the bathtub onto the tile below), Arthur holds it close to his chest, and becomes it.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Plot Structures

A Quick Reference to 5 Plot Structures

8-STAGE PLOT STRUCTURE (Nigel Watts)

Stasis: once upon a time

Trigger: something out of the ordinary happens

Quest: causing the protagonist to seek something

Surprise: but things don’t go as expected

Critical Choice: forcing the protagonist to make a difficult decision

Climax: which has consequences

Reversal: the result of which is a change in status

Resolution: and they all lived happily ever after (or didn’t).

HOW TO TELL A STORY (Peter Rubie)

Once upon a time, something happened to someone,

and he decided that he would pursue a goal.

So he devised a plan of action,

and even though there were forces trying to stop him,

he moved forward because there was a lot at stake.

And just as things seemed as bad as they could get,

he learned an important lesson,

and when offered the prize he had sought so strenuously,

he had to decide whether or not to take it,

and in making that decision he satisfied a need

that had been created by something in his past.

MONOMYTH / THE HERO'S JOURNEY (Joseph Campbell)

Separation

The Call to Adventure

The Refusal of the Call

Supernatural Aid

The Crossing of the First Threshold

Belly of the Whale

Initiation

The Road of Trials

Meeting with the Goddess

Woman as Temptress

Atonement with the Father

Apotheosis

The Ultimate Boon

Return

Refusal of the Return

The Magic Flight

Rescue From Without

The Crossing of the Return Threshold

Master of Two Worlds

Freedom to Live

22-STEP STRUCTURE (John Truby)

Self-revelation, need and desire - combination of steps 20, 3 & 5

Ghost and story world - the hero’s counterdesire

Weakness and need* - the hero’s flaws are keeping them from having the life they desire

Inciting event - outside event that spurs the hero to action

Desire* - the hero’s story goal

Ally or allies - the hero gains an ally

Opponent and/or mystery* - an opponent or mystery that keeps the hero from reaching their goal

Fake-ally opponent - a shapeshifter or false friend

First revelation and decision: changed desire and motive - a revelation causes the hero to make a decision that results in a change in direction

Plan* - the hero’s plan to overcome their opponent and reach their goal

Opponent’s plan main counterattack - the opponent’s plan to overcome their opponent and reach their goal

Drive - increasingly desperate (and possibly immoral) series of actions the hero takes to defeat the opponent and reach the goal

Attack by ally - an ally confronts the hero about their increasing desperation and immorality

Apparent defeat - lowest point when the hero believes they’ve lost; for fall arcs, this may be an “Apparent victory” instead

Second revelation & decision: obsessive drive, changed desire and motive - the hero receives a new piece of information that allows them to continue towards their goal

Audience revelation - the audience learns a vital piece of information that’s kept from the hero

Third revelation and decision - the hero learns something about the opponent that will help them win

Gate, gauntlet, visit to death - pressure on the hero grows and they’re forced to face difficult trials

Battle* - a final (violent) conflict that determines who wins

Self-revelation* - the hero learns who they truly are

Moral decision - a decision that proves what the hero has learnt in the self-revelation

New equilibrium* - the need and desire have been fulfilled and the world goes back to normal, though the hero has changed

Stars (*) mark the minimum 7 steps that, according to Truby, are essential to every story.

ONE PAGE NOVEL (Eva Deverell)

Brainstorm 3...

...names:

...wants/goals/needs:

...locations:

...objects:

...obstacles:

...things lost/sacrificed:

...occupations:

...things on your mind:

Plotting Order

Resolution

Stasis

Shift

Trigger

Quest

Power

Bolt

Defeat

Story Order

Stasis: character isn’t living to their full potential - opposite state to Resolution.

Trigger: an internal or external impulse (or both) forces the character to take the first step towards their Resolution state.

Quest: character enters the new world of adventure, meets mentors or allies and makes a (bad) plan to solve the problem the Trigger created.

Bolt: (bad) Quest plan inevitably goes wrong.

Shift: character makes the paradigm shift necessary for them to inhabit their Resolution state.

Defeat: character makes the ultimate sacrifice.

Power: character finds a hidden power within themselves that allows them to seize the prize.

Resolution: character is living up to their full potential in their Resolution state.

NOTES

Choose a plot structure that works best for you.

Deviate from it as needed. It is a guide after all.

Some writers and editors advice you stick with a plot structure you have chosen:

Don’t look for an alternative as soon as you start to become frustrated with your first choice. You’ll only end up wasting time.

As with everything else, there is no single perfect choice.

And it may be the case that different projects need different methods.

Keep experimenting. Keep writing. Keep improving.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

[ellieslittleburrow]

Siblings : sleepover

Summary : You live near campus, away from Dean and Sam. You haven't seen them in a while. How do you react when you find them right at your door?

Pairings : Dean and Sam winchester x sister

Warnings : nooone, just fluff.

A/N : Hi, babies ❣❣ I hope this is as refreshing to you as it was for me.

------

Oil sizzled as you set the stove on the lowest heat. You tossed the chopped up onions into the pan, filling the room with the familiar aroma.

The house phone rang. And you moved the pan aside before heading for the phone. You pressed a button, setting the phone near your ear when a familiar hum sounded.

Oh my god!

"Dean!" You excitedly shouted, earning yourself an "ouch" over the other line. You pressed a another button, opening the complex door for him and since you were only in the third floor, it only took him a quick minute to appear, followed by Sam.

"Hii" You opened your arms, running to embrace both of them. "What a surprise."

"Hey, kiddo." Dean tightly wrapped his arms around you, letting you go when Sam spoke.

"Hey, honey." Sam pulled you into a hug.

"I missed you both so much." Your voice vibrated into Sam's chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Eating, apparently." As Dean's voice went distant, you pulled away from Sam, spinning around to find Dean marching towards the kitchen.

You let out a little chuckle, following behind.

-----

After setting the plates and beers on the table, you plumped down on the couch, waiting for your brothers to join. And as all three of you started eating, an hour and a half of talks about life, uni, cases and john flowed seamlessly.

"So..." Dean coughed. "Anybody in your life....kid?"

You rolled your eyes at Dean's sudden change of voice. You knew this one, a low tone, manipulative and curious. You're not falling for it.

"Nobody, Dean." You smiled at him, not caring that he already knew you were lying.

"Are you sure about that? Because i'm pretty sure you don't wear size 12 flip floppers." He eyed the entry door and you snorted a laugh. Fucking hell..This guy's eyes..

"Leave her alone, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes before turning to you. "As long as you're happy, honey."

You smiled at his response....your eyes darting around the room when silence set in...

"Alright....Time to head out, Dean." Sam slapped his thighs, readying himself to get up when you pushed him back down.

"No!"

"We have to go, honey. We still have 5 hours to go before we get there." Sam argues and you shook your head.

"Please don't....it's only been an hour." You pleaded, looking over at Dean, who, to your surprise, was staring at you with pleading eyes.

He did not want to go either.

"Come on, Sammy. It's-" you spun around to get a look at the clock. "It's 6pm, don't you wanna get some sleep and head back for the road tomorrow morning?."

Sam grimaced. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, honey. I really do want to stay, but we could always stay over on our way ba-."

You turned to Dean, leaving Sam hanging. But Dean was already laid back, quiet, waiting for you to do all the dirty work. That's when Sam spoke again.

"Okay, how about this" He started, and your eyes grew wide, anticipating what's about to happen.

Sam straightened his back as he held his arms out, positioning one hand on top of the other, his right fist resting on top of his left palm. And as Dean understood the assignment, he got up, mirroring sam.

And in silence you watched, as for the very first time, Sam laid a rock, losing the fight as early as the first round.

You burst into laughter as Sam's eyebrows arose. Nobody expected that. And as you lifted your arms up, jumping in pure ecstasy, Dean grinned triumphantly.

"I won."

You nodded. "And you spend the night here."

Sam smacked his hands together. "Alright, then. Let's prep for a night in."

----

And we're done! If yall can spare a minute and tell me about my writiing pleaase? if i should change it up, if it's too repetitive and stuff. No pressure and thanks in advance ❣ 🖤🖤🥀🥀

[ro-rogue]

the tragic thing about john doe is that he was doomed from the start.

he was likely born in a low- or mid-tier district: new bostin high's old king, zirian, was the only one john had trouble beating, before he figured out how to amplify abilities, and at the time he beat zirian, zirian was a 3.7. zirian, pre-john, was considered incredibly powerful, nigh unbeatable. in new bostin, someone who was barely an elite was considered incredibly powerful.

god-tiers are already incredibly rare. they're even more rare than high-tiers, and whenever remi, blyke, and isen visit a low-tier district as vigilantes, everyone regards them almost as royalty - unbelievably powerful, unreachable, divinity on earth. they are with dozens, and they’re terrified of a single, non-hostile girl. also, some of the background characters say: “what’s a high-tier doing in branish?” “yeah, they would never come to a place like this.” most low-tiers likely have never even seen a high-tier in the flesh, let alone a god-tier.

add to that that wellston is supposed to be the most powerful school in the province, at least, and before john, there were only two god-tiers in attendance: an 8.0 and a 6.3. and before arlo became king, rei was, and rei was a 5.8. the king of the strongest school in the province was a 5.8.

jane doe was raised in a god-tier family. she knows, presumably, what it means to be a god-tier, when everyone around you is weaker than you, and not by a little bit. but jane has been gone since john was a toddler - and the only person left to raise him was his father. his cripple father, who has lived his whole life being spat on, disregarded, considered less than.

and then you have john. john first discovered his ability in his last year of middle school. unordinary doesn't give us an exact timeframe, but it is mentioned that he first uses his ability towards the end of the school year. if we assume that the education system in unordinary is comparable to the us education system, then that makes john about fourteen years old. it is never mentioned when most kids discover their abilities, but sera mentioned that she got martial arts lessons for a few years when she was a young child, but stopped when her ability came in. assuming sera's development is normal and abilities usually come in at the same age regardless of level, that would place the average age well before ten. another thing: everyone around john seemed to assume he would never get an ability. they considered him a cripple. which either means that late-bloomers are so incredibly rare that it isn't even considered a possibility, or john was so far past the age of ability manifestation that no one thought it was possible.

of course, his dad was also a cripple, and since genetics are a thing in uno, it would make sense for people to assume john would be a cripple even before he passed the manifestation age. (and treat him accordingly)

john got expelled in his second year in high school. when, exactly, doesn't really matter. once again assuming that the uno education system works like the us education system, that would place john at 15-16 years old.

so you have this kid, sixteen years old, who's had his ability for about two years. he spent most of his life being considered the lowest of the low - spat on, disregarded, less than. his dad, his only parental figure, has had those exact same experiences, and the only thing he can tell his child is that that is just the way the world works. it's unfair, but that's life.

but then he gets an ability. and within two years, he is almost twice as strong as the second strongest kid around. none of the adults have ever met someone as strong as him. him, the former cripple, with the cripple father. former lowest of the low, now a god amongst men. the kids, though, his classmates, his peers, they don't really understand his power. how much stronger he is than them. to tell the truth, he doesn't either, not fully. he's never met someone as strong as he is, at sixteen. but his classmates, they just remember when they used to walk all over him. when they would beat him bloody and then complain about getting his disgusting cripple blood on their shoes. and now he dares to stand above them?

they don't like him. of course they don't. cripples aren't able to become gods. they can't comprehend that john did.

and john, obviously, lashes out at his former bullies. he finally has a chance to pay them back, for all the cuts, bruises, broken bones he'd received from them over the years. he's stronger than them, and it's his turn to make them hurt. he goes farther than they did - their abilities are useless against the might of his power - but he doesn't really care. (they never held back, so he doesn't either, and the damage he does is much, much worse. the adults are mad, and he doesn't get why. he's only doing what everyone else does.)

the adults have no idea how to handle him. he's out of control. but they've never seen an ability this powerful before, except on tv, or in stories. high-rankers are supposed to keep order. (but no one listens to john. why would they? he's just a cripple, the lowest of the low, who managed to cheat the system.) his dad, kind-hearted william doe the cripple, has no idea how to help him. he can't relate to his problems at all. (is there even a problem? who wouldn't want to be powerful? for william, for adrian, for claire, it'd be a dream come true. it used to be, for john.) there is no one around who even vaguely knows what it's like to be a god-tier, or even a high-tier, or even just a high-ranker in general, except for zirian, who's barely a high-ranker at all, and who hates john for dethroning him. there is no one who understands him.

so then you have john. sixteen years old. god-tier. angry at the world, and the world is angry at him. how was he ever supposed to win?

[elllisaaa]

skz as love songs

-> pairing : skz x fem!reader

-> words count : 3.1k words

-> genre : fluff, hurt/comfort

-> sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> author's note : i really enjoyed writing this, and i might have some ideas for longer fics based on songs because of this event lmao ! hope you will like this as much as i liked writing it !

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | 1k event masterlist

BANGCHAN

-> All of Me by John Legends  

"love your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections"

→ You know that everytime you doubt yourself, you can count on Chan to remind you of your value, of how beautiful you are. In his eyes, you’re the prettiest girl in the world, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. So he never understood how you could not see how incredible you were, how you could not see how perfect you were. 

“- But I’m not perfect…”

That’s what you always answer him everytime he tells you that, and everytime, he argues the same thing. 

“- Yes, but even your flaws are perfect, because you work on yourself and try to be a better person every time you make a mistake.”

And what can you say ? If you’re perfect, then Chan always has the perfect word to remind you of that, and the perfect hugs to comfort you. 

"‘cause I give you all of me, and you give me all of you"

→ Because when Chan loves, it’s with his whole heart, his whole soul. When he falls in love, he falls in deep, he falls in forever. Just like he throws himself in work because he’s so passionate about it, he gives his all for his relationship, he does whatever it takes to treat you right. 

“- Channie, you didn’t have to do all that…”

You were surrounded by candles and rose petals as you walked into your kitchen, your favorite meals on the counter, apparently homemade, and Chan standing in a suit in front of you, a warm smile on his face. 

“- Yes, I had to. I had to show you how grateful I am to spend another year with you, because you make me so happy.”

And that’s an understatement. Everytime you kiss him, he feels like the luckiest man on earth. One day, he knows that he’ll marry you. One day, he knows that he’ll have a family with you. One day, you’ll really hold his whole life in your hands, even if you already are with the way you make his heart beat and come alive. 

LEE MINHO

-> Cardigan by Taylor Swift

"you drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding"

→ Minho has always watched you very closely, knows every little shift in your mood just by your body language. He had learned every little part of you like the moves of his favorite choreo, one he’ll never get tired of, one he’ll never forget. He had taken care of you when you were at your lowest, always reminding you that it was okay not to be okay sometimes. 

“- I’m sorry…

- You don’t have to be sorry for that sweetheart, it’s normal to be sad sometimes but just remember that I will always be there to support you.”

It’s like his words were magical, as if without you needing to tell him all about what you had been going through, he already knew it all. Sometimes, you wondered if Minho was an angel, because one touch from him, one word from him, and suddenly it was like you were healed. 

“- Being weak is not a bad thing, it’s what makes you stronger.”

If only he knew how grateful you were to have him, because he was truly helping you become more confident and overcome your past. 

"I knew you’d come back to me"

→ Sometimes, he’d have his bad times too. And even if he encouraged you to open up about it, he couldn’t follow his own advice and distanced himself from you. Minho would not be very talkative, nor would he seek your affection like he normally would. But just as much as he’s patient with you, you are with him and he’s grateful that you understand that he needs time for himself. 

“- Can I be the little spoon tonight ?”

You smile at his question, and that’s all Minho needs to bury his face in your chest, sighing in relief when you hold him tight against you and run your fingers through his hair. 

“- Are you ready to talk about it ?”

Mimicking you, he nodded and took some time to think before telling you what was on his mind these past days. Minho’s love was like a little cocoon, a shelter far away from the world, where you could be honest with each other and spend everyday basking in each other's presence. Sometimes, love doesn’t need words. 

SEO CHANGBIN

-> I Think I’m In Love by Kat Dahlia

"I didn’t think it could be true, let alone that it would be you"

→ It’s not that Changbin doesn’t believe in love, that’s quite the opposite actually, but more so that he doesn’t have the time to think about it because of his job. But the day he met you, it was like fate giving him a sign, telling him that love wasn’t going to stay out of his life anymore. And as much as he tried to contain himself, he came to realize that maybe, he should let you enter in his heart. 

“- Do you feel the same ?”

Your glazed eyes plunged in his, and even if Changbin knew you were a little drunk, he couldn’t help his heartbeat to fasten.

“- I don’t know, what are you talking about ?

- Love.”

You out of all the people he knew was the least he expected to fall for, and even less to feel the same about him. But he wasn’t mad about it. In the end, love was never logical. 

"baby, I’m falling, I hope you catch me when I’ll land"

→ It’s how it felt to be with you : falling. Changbin never thought that the expression falling in love could one day find a literal meaning, but he was wrong. And Changbin also never thought that he would love this sensation, and he was wrong again. 

“- Are you okay Binnie ?”

He lifted his head to look at you, smiling at him so sweetly he felt like a teenager all over again. 

“- Yes… I was just thinking.

- About what ?

- How grateful I am to have you by my side.”

It was Changbin’s turn to smile when he saw your cheeks redden. But he had never been more serious. Because yes, it was a little scary to dive into the unknown like that, but it was also exciting to go for new adventures. Moreover, it was the firm conviction that you would be there with him, that you were falling with him, for him, that made it so beautiful to be in love with you.

HWANG HYUNJIN

-> Infinity by Jaymes Young

"baby this love, I’ll never let it die"

→ Hyunjin had always been a hopeless romantic, dreaming about living a fairytale since he was child. He viewed love as something enchanting, thrilling and ultimately beautiful. Nothing could ever deter him from chasing after you, because he knew for a fact that you were the love of his life, his soulmate. He knew it since the day you met, knew it since the first time your eyes crossed.

“- Don’t cry princess, I will be back in no time.

- I know, but still… I’m gonna miss you like crazy.”

It was the same thing every time he prepared to leave. No matter if it was for several months or just a few days. Everytime, it felt so wrong to be away from him, and he felt exactly the same. It was just another proof that you were made for him.

“- Me too, but we’re stronger than that, you know it. We’ll always figure it out, we’ll always find a way. As long as you’re mine and I’m yours, everything will be alright.”

Loving Hyunjin was like that sometimes, like the feeling of having finally found your home.

"‘cause you’re the reason I believe in fate, you’re my paradise." 

→ As an artist, Hyunjin had tons of sketchbooks filled with drawings of you. He liked to say that you were his muse, because even though he was not representing you, every piece of art he made was ultimately inspired by your person. It could be something you loved, some art style you told him you appreciated. In the end, everything was linked to you. 

“- Thank you for doing this for me princess, it means a lot to me.”

You kissed his cheek with a big smile on your face, admiring the painting of you he just finished and for which you posed for hours, sparkles in your eyes.

“- I’m always happy to help you create, and everytime it turns out amazing. I’m honored to be your inspiration !”

But you were so much more than that. You were his reason to live. You were his other half. You were the reason the colors were so bright in his world. You were the reason he felt everything so hard. 

“- You’re not my inspiration, you’re my muse.”

And he meant even above art. He would do everything in his power to keep you by his side forever. 

HAN JISUNG

-> It’s U by Cavetown

"if you’re hurt, then I’ll fix you, if you’re blind, then I’ll describe the view." 

→ Life has not always been peaceful for Jisung. Sometimes, it was hard to even go out and see other people. Sometimes, it was hard to even talk to someone else. But when it came to you, everything felt so easy, everything felt so natural. You were always willing to help him, to support him through his worst states. 

“- I’m bothering you, you have work to do. 

- Baby, look at me.”

Jisung obeyed and stared at your soft gaze, feeling tears pricking his eyes again. He wanted to stay here in your arms forever and never have to face reality ever again. 

“- You’re more important than everything else. I’ll always be there for you. Whenever you need me, just call, and I’ll be right by your side. You can count on me.”

And you knew you could count on him too. When you were too tired to do the dishes or the laundry, he’ll do it for you. When he was too tired to wash his hair or take off his makeup, you’ll do it for him. Everything you did for him, he’ll do it for you too. 

“- Thank you.”

Jisung often felt the need to tell you how grateful he was to have you in his life. Loving you was like being all cuddled in a warm blanket with a hot chocolate during a cold winter day. Loving you was comfortable. 

"it’s always been you."

→ He always made fun of his friends who loved to watch these silly romantic movies where the main characters fell in love at first sight, believing that it was not real and could never happen, especially to him. But you came into his life like a hurricane, and suddenly, everything turned upside down. 

“- When did you start liking me ?”

You pretended to think about it for several minutes, too long for Jisung who whined at you for being so mean to him, making you giggle so cutely. 

“- I’m joking baby ! I have liked you since Chan introduced you to me. You were very charming, you know… 

- You were more charming, gorgeous, beautiful. I was starstruck.”

Jisung grinned as you blushed from his compliments, but deep down, he felt butterflies erupting in his stomach all over again, just like the first time he saw you. He needed reassurance often, but when you said that type of thing, he was convinced that destiny had plans for the two of you. Even before he had known you, it had always been you. 

LEE FELIX

-> In Luv With U by Finn

"I’m in love with you, more than summer and afternoons."

→ You came into Felix’s life like a sunset on a warm morning, with the sound of waves crashing on the beach echoing in the distance and the scent of the sea. It was like summer love. It was soft, natural, without overcomplication. You didn’t think too much of what was happening between the two of you, and neither Felix did. All he wanted was to make the most of your time together.

“- You can open your eyes.”

As you listened to his whispered command, you discovered that he had laid a blanket on the sand and that a picnic was laying on top of it. You turned around to smile at Felix.

“- You prepared all that just for me ?

- Why wouldn’t I ?”

You only kissed him by way of answer, running excitedly to sit on the blanket while Felix contemplated your figure from where he was standing behind you. Yeah, why wouldn’t he do that for you when you brought sunshine back in his life ? And to say that he didn’t do the same to you would be a lie. You were a perfect match. 

"I don’t know where I belong anymore, I belong to you."

→ There were times during which Felix didn’t know if he made the right choices. He was the most positive person you knew, but sometimes, doubt overcame him anyway. But even when he was lost, Felix knew that he had someone to rely on, someone to talk to, someone to ease all his worries. Everytime, it felt like he was letting you see his raw emotions, but you never made him feel ashamed for that. 

“- It’s okay to feel like that sometimes Lixie, and I know that you’re strong and that you’ll figure it out. You always figure it out.”

Even if he wanted to believe it, you could see that a shadow was still casting the beautiful light of his eyes. 

“- And if I don’t ?

- Then I’ll be there to help you, and we’ll do that together.”

You smiled when you saw his own tugging at his lips. You were always here to remind him that no matter what happened, you would always be there. You were his focal point when he was lost, reaching out a hand for him to take and bring him back home, bring him back to you. 

KIM SEUNGMIN

-> Paris in the Rain by Lauv

"‘cause anywhere with you feels right, anywhere with you feels like Paris in the rain."

→ The first time Seungmin got to Paris, it was because of work, and he knew that you would love it here. So the next time he came to visit the city, it was with you. He spent the whole trip looking at you all excited about all the things you wanted to do, looking at you like you were holding his whole world in your hands. And you kind of were. 

“- Isn’t the view incredible !? I can’t believe some people get to see that everyday…

- You’re more pretty to look at, and I’m so lucky to be the only one seeing you every morning and every night.”

The blush creeping on your cheeks didn’t hold you back from returning the compliment. Seungmin didn’t know if it was the atmosphere, or the fact that it was the first time he had the chance to take you on a trip, but he felt his heart swell just knowing that he had you all for himself, that you were here with him and only him. 

“- You’re so cheesy…

- Yeah, but you love me.”

And neither of you could hold back the smiles stretching out your lips. 

"I look at you now and I want this forever."

→ It wasn’t rare for Seungmin to call you his wife in his head. In fact, he referred to you as that a lot as a joke, even when you were with other people. And everytime, both of you would laugh it off, even if you couldn’t help loving the idea of this silly little antic becoming reality. Because you knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand, you noticed how his ears and cheeks grew red as he introduced you to some of his friends as his wife. You smiled sweetly, not correcting him, but waited until later to talk about it.

“- So… Where’s my ring ?”

Again, Seungmin felt himself blush and whined, burying his head in the crook of your neck to hide his embarrassment. 

“- I’m sorry love, it just slipped from my mouth.”

He knew that he was going to marry you one day, but he didn’t want to rush things and scare you, hell, he didn’t even decide on a ring to buy you. He wanted to wait a little longer to be sure that you weren’t a dream that will soon vanish.

“- Well, I don’t mind it as long as I really become your wife.

- I love the sound of that.”

And you did too. Seungmin couldn’t wait to be yours forever, because that’s all he ever wanted. 

YANG JEONGIN

-> Dancing in a Daydream by Roses & Revolution

"it’s you and me, dancing in a daydream, just you and me, lost in the clouds."

→ Pushing open the door of your apartment, the smell of food hit Jeongin as soon as he stepped a foot inside, a smile spreading on his lips as he heard you greeting him from the kitchen. He quickly discarded his jacket and shoes before joining you, sliding his arms around your waist and spooning you into a back hug as you continued to chop off vegetables. 

“- How was your day baby ?

- Exhausting… All I wanted was to be home with you, couldn’t stop thinking about coming home.”

You nobbed your head along, sliding the vegetables in your pan before turning around and cupping his face.

“- Well, you’re with me now, nothing to worry about anymore.”

Jeongin hummed happily, burying his face in your hair and holding you tight against him. Yes, just you and him, it was all he needed. 

"and if I open my eyes, if I open my eyes, will it all unravel ?"

→ Jeongin tried to be as sneaky as possible in order to not wake you up as he got out of bed and went to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and filled it up with cold water, hoping that it would help him get over this bad dream. It happened rarely, but when it did, it was always very frightening. He almost didn’t notice when you joined him, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“- What are you doing awake baby ?

- I… I just had a nightmare, don’t worry.

- You want to talk about it ?”

You sat down with him on the couch, straddling his lap and running your hands through his hair to soothe him.

“- It’s stupid really… I was coming home and you were not there, and I searched for you everywhere and couldn’t find you. It was as if you never existed. It was so scary, I felt so lost without you.

- But I’m here, yeah ? I’ll always be there, I promise, I’m not going to disappear.”

Jeongin smiled at you before he kissed you softly. Sometimes, it was hard to believe that you were his, because you were such a dream come true, and he wished to keep you by his side as long as you’ll let him.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

skz taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@binwons @minnies-babie @yoongles2025 @thicccurls @caitlyn98s @hildaortara @sharonxdevi

[omgwhatchloe]

REASONS WHY HAVING SOME RDR2 CHARACTERS AS YOUR PASSENGER IN YOUR CAR SUCKS:

Charles: Only talks to points out every single animal he sees. Other than that, it’s just silence unless you start the conversation or you’re Arthur. Oh but trust me, he wants the AUX. He’s just not gunna ask.

John: Either demands the AUX cord or just connects it anyway, then proceeds to be musically inconsiderate with what he plays. You despise this song with every ounce of your being? Too bad. This song reminds you of your lowest point? Suck it up buttercup. This was playing in the car when you crashed and killed the person in the passenger seat? Womp womp.

Dutch: Seems to think it’s his car. In fact, he feels completely free to change the music, turns up the heat as much as he pleases, winds the windows up and down, moves his seat constantly etc etc.

Reverend Swanson and Mary-Beth: Car sick. So very car sick. Your two options when driving them anywhere is the sound of heavy breathing with the sounds of the highway being blasted in through the open window, or bags rustling with the sound of puking and groaning. Trust me, they’d rather have walked as well.

Javier: Awful navigator. It’s fine when you know where you’re going, but absolutely awful when you need navigation. Half the time, you look over and he’s gone off the navigation app and is playing subway surfers and texting. The other half of the time, he’s misreading the directions then yelling at YOU. Not to mention it’s completely unsurprising to wonder why you’ve been driving for so long then find he’s clicked on the entire wrong destination without a second thought.

Sean: Acts like he’s never eaten before in his life as soon as he gets into the car. Sees a Wendy’s? He’s suddenly starving. Burger King? He hasn’t eaten in three days. KFC? He’ll pay you back, he swears! In fact, the man has absolutely no problem being late for anything if you stop for food. You could be on the way to Davey’s funeral, already running late and suddenly pull into the Krispy Kreme carpark and you would not hear a single protest from him.

Micah: Yaps a whole lot of waffle about how he’s all this n all that to the point you don’t even know what he’s saying anymore and neither does he. Also enjoys flipping random people off and yelling shit out of the window. Expect to be chased by an angry driver for at least 12 miles.

Bill: Eats and then just throws his trash on the floor without a single second thought. If you ask him to pick it up, he will, but not without angrily grumbling and snatching it up. Is in a bad mood for about 2 minutes before he realises he wants to yap so does.

Karen, Uncle, Abigail and Sean: Distracts the driver. Whether it’s with yapping or loud videos or drinking or messing with the music volume, they somehow keep it up from the start of the drive right to the end.

Hosea: Puts his feet up and puts his seat back like he’s in bed. Just won’t sit normally. Will give you a ‘look’ when you ask him to put them down.

Lenny: Makes things awkward, because the first thing he does is comment on the dirtiness of your car then looks extremely shocked and uncomfortable at himself for saying that for about 7 seconds before pulling out his phone and facetiming Sean for the whole drive and giving you the same looks Hosea does when you try to speak to him. When not on the phone, he tends to respond with shrugs and “Okay then,” while folding him arms and staring out of the window. Seems to be in an awful mood until he’s out of the car. He hates car rides if it’s not with his favourite people.

Molly: Acts like you can’t drive. Struggling to see what’s right in front of you? Molly’s got your back! Seriously, she will yell at you to stop at the red light you had already seen 7 seconds ago and started to slow for. Old woman crossing (while you’re already stopped)? She will yell at you not to go so loud you debate kicking her out and making her get her own car, since she knows so much.

Tilly and Strauss: Tries to get you to speed. It’s like they’ve never heard of laws before, and will insist you ‘go faster’ even though your way is blocked by other cars. It’s painfully obvious they both can’t drive and have never had to pay for gas money.

Miss Grimshaw: Absolutely disgusted by your car and wants to make that very clear. It wouldn’t be surprising if halfway through, she started to clean it herself.

Jack: Really really really wants to press that horn. You’d find it cute at first, but so goddamn annoying when your car starts honking in the middle of a busy crossing. It’s like a constant slap-fight except you’re pushing his hands away every-time they come for the horn.

Arthur: Constantly asking to pull over. He’ll casually say “stop here” as if you’re a taxi, not to mention you’re in the middle of nowhere on the highway and you really don’t understand what a stranger mission means. Commonly, you have to explain things like how you’re already an hour late and you literally do not have the room to drive that family of five that’s broken down anywhere, nor can you stop at an empty warehouse and potentially get arrested for trespassing because he wants to explore.

Kieran: Terrified when you go slightly over the speed limit. He acts like he’s in an F1 race with no seatbelt being hung out of the window.

[blindmagdalena]

hey so first of all you have platinum hands in terms of writing, so succinct and well-paced and silky. second of all i have a fixation on names and their significance because my formative memory is hearing the myth about how the fey knowing your full name gives them power over you. so. two things.

homelander being reluctant to tell the reader his 'john gillman' name both because of vulnerability reasons and because of his lack of identification with his human self.

the reader being someone to whom names mean a lot, someone who calls people by their name when she starts to care about them; lacking a human name, still having the urge to call homelander something, she opts for 'home'.

do you see the vision. being called 'home', his superhero title being repurposed into something warm and down-to-earth and familiar. being named in a way he wasn't by a parental figure: out of love and choice. i think he'd lose his marbles.

thank you! that's such a delicious compliment.

as someone who loves all things fey and all the etiquette associated with them, yes yes yes! i love this! Homelander is such an interesting character to explore this with because he actively rejects his name. it's something he was called at the lowest, weakest point in his life.

he only gained some degree of autonomy and freedom when he became Homelander. that's the name he most associates with his true self. it represents his escape from the lab.

i'm deeply smitten by the thought of someone just... accepting that, and not pushing for him to embrace something that is deeply traumatic for him. instead accepting his new identity and helping to shape it into something more than just a persona removed from his humanity.

AAHH imagine calling him homes. sherlock homes when he's bein' nosey. 😭

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Back to black

John Egan X Pilot! Reader

Summary: The relationship of Y/n and Bucky when they're both at their lowest.

Warning: Toxic relationship/ manipulation/ cheating/ mention of sex/ swearing/ use of Y/n/ abuse of alcohol/

Word count: 1.2k

He left no time to regret

Kept his dick wet

With his same old safe bet

Me and my head high

And my tears dry

Get on without my guy.

Their relationship was toxic, they would fight and make-up all the time. Their arguments would always end up with them being naked in the bed. She was a female pilot; he was a pilot too. They were on the same base, so they always saw each other. Some of the other pilots grew tired of them always fighting, but no matter what happened, they’d still be in love with the other, they were addicted to the thrill and the highs and lows of their relationship. It distracted them from the horror they saw all the time, the sex was an occasion to let everything out, it was often raw and real, they tried to get a grip on reality. But when he drank, he could be really mean. Y/n tried to get out of the situation, but she was like a drug addict, always needing more. So, she would cry in her room, her tears represented all the things she couldn’t have with him; a walk in a park, slow dancing together, going on dates and having deep conversations with him. She had to face the fact that the relationship she was in wasn’t the one her mother described, it was the one her father warned her about.

You went back to what you knew

So far removed

From all that we went through

And I tread a troubled track

My odds are stacked

I'll go back to black.

‘’What do you mean you’re going to London?’’ she asked as she looked at him packing his bags. ‘’I need a break from all this, I need to drink, to get out of here!’’ he said, putting his shirt in his bag. He was going to drink in London, getting back to his old coping habit, or he was going to find another woman to have sex with, his ladies-men reputation was well known by the woman. ‘’Right, cause running away is easier than stay and talk about your feelings’’ she chuckled, but it was filled with anger in her voice. He clenched his jaw as she gritted her teeth. There it was, the anger building up in her stomach, she wanted to punch the wall, choke him and hit him, but she contained herself, like always. ‘’I’m going to London, so whatever you say, won’t change my mind’’ he mumbled, with hint of frustration in his voice. Talking to him was useless, he was going to get drunk, probably going to cheat on her, come back with flowers and do it all again. She felt her throat squeeze, she didn’t want to cry in front of him. ‘’Why did I come here, anyway.’’ She whispered. Bucky looked up at her. ‘’Have fun in London, you know where to find me when you come back. Or I’ll probably be rotting in a potato field in Germany, enjoy your weekend, John’’ she said as she slammed his door. The idea of her being dead didn’t sit well in his mind, but he needed to get out of here, he was starting to lose his mind.

We only said goodbye with words

I died a hundred times

You go back to her

And I go back to

I go back to us.

She coiled up against her door, crying again. They had a fight, she looked at the letter in her hands. A woman named Lexie wrote to him; saying how much she enjoyed the night they spent together in London, and it went on with details of their steamy night. He cheated on her many times before, but it was never confirmed, now, to hold a letter, she felt like her heart was shattering with each word she read. Tears fell on the paper as she continued to read it. Bucky could hear her cry when he entered the building, since she was a woman on a base filled with men, her and the other woman had a private building. He knew that she was crying because of him. She thought she was dying, her heart was painful, each breath she took was hurting her lungs, her head was pounding from all the crying. It wasn’t the first time she ‘died’ it happened multiple times before. When he knocked at her door, he didn’t expect her to open it that fast. ‘’What the fuck do you want?’’ she tried to yell, but her voice cracked, showing all the pain she was in. ‘’Darling, I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I feel so fucking bad right now, please let me in’’ he pleaded. She didn’t have any energy to fight with him, she let him inside her room, he closed the door, slowly, as he looked at her. She looked so tired, in pain and hurt. ‘’I know you won’t forgive me, and I’ve said it before, but this time, I promise you that I truly fucking mean it, she meant nothing. It’s really hard for me to talk about my feelings, I was about to go crazy, the second I kissed her I regretted it. Y/n, please look at me’’ she didn’t want to hear him, but he sounded so sincere. ‘’How do I know this time is different?’’ she whispered. ‘’I don’t know what to tell you, but I swear on everything I have, I’m going to change, no more messing around, I love you, and I can’t keep hurting you.’’ His eyes filled with tears. ‘’Y/n, I love you and I’m begging you, please you have to believe me, you can ask Buck, I’ve thrown away all my alcohol, and I – ‘’ Y/n cut him off, placing her hands on his. ‘’Just shut up and kiss me’’ she said, her voice filled with pain, again. Bucky kissed her, putting his both hands on her cheek. He tenderly kissed her lips. ‘’I love you so much’’ he praised between kisses.

She didn’t know if that promise was true, but she was going to take whatever he was willing to give, because they needed each other, one couldn’t live without the other. The adrenaline, the love; they craved each other. So whatever he gave her, she was going to take it, or she was going back to black…

[ryansosilly]

I was there too, Wasn't I?

quick summary of the fic for those have the 'i ain't reading allat' mindset

it isn't specifically an 'x reader' in a romantic sense and nor is it gendered. Everyone can read and imagine themselves as it. It's more of a switch in dynamics if instead of it being Soap and Ghost against the world, it was Soap, Ghost and [REDACTED] against the world :]

This is basically if you played 'Shoko' to Ghost and Soaps 'Gojo and Geto'. If you don't know who they are, you'll enjoy this fic. If you do know who they are? You'll not enjoy it any more, you will just know exactly how it ends

I do my best to never put any borders or rules for [REDACTED] on what they are and they aren't. But for this specific one, you are going to be a medic at least PART TIME! You can imagine yourself as everything and anything else. Sniper, a fucking barbarian or just go full on medic. Anything.

Tw: Typical war stuff you'd expect. Death, blood blah blah

Soap, Ghost and You.

Long time ago, you met Ghost first. Way before Soap was in the picture.

But you didn't meet him in no normal circumstances that people usually met. You met him at his very lowest, beaten and barely alive. You were a part [REDACTED] at the time, and by the string of fate wrapping around both of your necks, you got your hands to Ghost, or during that time... Simon's ruined body. He was alive..barely. After he had managed to dig himself out of that horrible horrible grave with only Vernon's jawbone, he 'ran' into you. Or perhaps you ran into him?

Days blurred by and before you even knew it, four months of healing had passed by. Simon became somewhat attached to you, despite never even realising it.

But at the back of your head you always..had some..ideas..some inklings that maybe.. he didnt quite feel the same. He didn't quite understand how deep your appreciation and care for him went. Though, you made it no big deal. He was recovering. Hell? He even looked too young to have such things figured out already despite being 'an adult'.

Your understanding of him carried even once he got recruited into the task force. Of course, taking you with him as his trusty right hand.

Wherever you go, he goes with. Wherever he goes, you and ...and? Soap, of course!

Sooner than later, the duo became a trio. Or did it stay a duo

You, Soap and Ghost were inseparable. You healed together. You saw the live re-enter Simon's eyes. You saw Simon again for the first time ever since his death the accidents.

Soap even came into your life harder than anyone else before, becoming YOUR right-hand man. He followed you, you followed Ghost, Ghost followed Soap. All of your backs were safe and kept protected through each other. Some called it brotherhood, others made gay jokes. Third types of people tried to split you up while others even counted you as an entity all together. 'the 3 of them', what they called you. The two strongest and their life saver.

But just as time was a blur before, it became a blur again. The happiness couldn't last forever when Soap was pronounced K.I.A.

By Ghosts own request, you were tasked with retrieving his body from the battlefield, cremating him.. writing a report with Laswell and a letter to Soaps parents.

It was surprising that Ghost let you do all of that for Soap. You would've assumed that he would've ran straight to the opportunities but Ghost was tired. Too tired to go out and do it alone. Too tired to find the words. Too tired.

So you understood. You pulled him back up on his feet once, you'll do it again.

"How do you think he would've wanted to go? A grave?"

You spoke quietly, putting on your gloves as you looked down at the dead body of John McTavish, a dear friend, brother and more and an outstanding soldier. His body was cold. So cold that most of his insides were already frozen from the cold air he spent his 'time' laying in. Parts of him missing due to animals finding him before the Task Force did.

"I don't know."

Ghost replied, leaning his head back on the wall in despair. His voice was low, still audible and clear yet so full of unidentifiable emotion. He was sat down at one of the medical carriers. The same one that brought John in here. The morgue felt colder than the metal. Mourning wasn't going to warm him up but neither was John's jacket he kept. Nothing was.

Your gloved hands on the cold body were the only warmth in the room. The only warmth Ghost had left in his life. It was just an unfortunate timing that he had his back towards you, refusing to look at the way John's body was ravaged by the wild animals.

Why were you even here, Simon?

The settlement of cremation came after long talk with the rest of the team. Unfortunately, none of the letters sent to John's supposed family and place of residence were returned so the choice the Task Force made was the final one.

A final choice.

You were there during the entire process of it. And so was Simon. His stomach could hardly handle it so he made Gaz and Price switch with him from time. He described it as 'He didn't want to leave him alone'.

It was obvious to everyone that his mental health was heavily affected, a strong blown dealt to his psyche that everyone excepted you to heal.

You stood there, Simon stood there with you.

You stood there, Gaz stood there with you.

You stood there.. Price stood there with you.

And Simon stood at the front alone once it was time to retrieve the ashes.

You trusted Simon with picking an Urn, picking the place where you'll pour the ashes in between the still difficult deployments they had to finish before a proper 'burial' can happen. You stood by Ghosts side without going anywhere. You saw how bad it got, and was there to comfort him, hug him and bandage his wounds he got from being careless. There to take the alcohol bottle away, put the cigarettes fire out and remind him to wash his sheets, shower, sleep and eat. There to fight off the asks of him to be taken to a ward for his safety. You did everything to keep him where he felt safe, where you knew he was safe.

But no matter how much you hold someone, they'll hold someone else.

An urn in Simon's arms, a letter meant to be burnt away with all of Ghosts unsaid words to Soap.. and a lighter. It was a custom made lighter you've not seen before. It said G & S. It was cute! Your initial was on the other side of it.

The burial went as expected. Everything went by 'smoothly'. Ghost kept his composure and 'life went on'. It went on and on excruciatingly slow.

All that time passing by, lead to one moment you'll always remember whether you like it or not.

"Place feels so dead without Soap."

Ah? Was Ghost helping a new recruit? Talking to them as he stood by a window with you on his left side, holding a pack of cigarettes opened for him.

"He is my best friend. My..only friend."

Ghost shared quietly, staring out the window as he held a cigarette by his mouth. He started wearing the mask even longer to an unhealthy amount now, only taking it off to sleep, smoke or shower.

"oh shut it. I was there too, wasn't I, Simon?"

You tried to joke in this 'unjokeable', dull situation. Reminding him that.. you were there. You just couldn't do anything to save him on the battlefield. Too far, too late.

The recruit was confused more than anything. He had heard so many praises about the sergeant from everyone. But he never knew about you being in the picture?

"[Redacted], were you also friends with the Sergeant?"

As the recruit questioned you, Ghost took his cigarette and left, going to a different window. Too much social interaction, you'd assume. Maybe just the mention of Soap was still uncomfortable. It's been years.

Years..was it really years?

How could just a couple years fill up a morgue so fast? Ghosts suppressed rage harmed civilians, his teammates and the enemies. You fell responsible for it by choice. Patching up a hurt kid that fell in the crossfire, bandaging up Gaz after a fight with Ghost, keeping the bodies of enemies for 'later use' as Ghost said.

Some would say he got better, that he got over it. But it was just never the same. Your friendship almost became entirely professional. He was in and out as soon as he got what he wanted from you. Meds, cigarettes, a new lighter, more meds, bandages, information on bodies. The warm friendship became less than a conversation per day.

Of course, one thing remained the same. When Simon was going through an especially tough time, he made his way to your doorstep. And you listened, comforted him and helped him.

You were adults now. There were no excuses like there were back then. You tried to talk to him about it, which he ended up..actually taking quite seriously. You started hanging out a bit more. Going out for coffee sometimes, chatting more often even if you had to now refer to him as 'Lieutenant' Ghost. Simon in private. He even started to walk with you in silence sometimes.

Things got 'better' as the casualties got more and more. Until the very last casualty that Ghost even got into your office.

The morgue was once again especially cold, one less set of lungs breathing to warm up the air around, less voice to speak and bother as you put on your gloves to cut off the balaclava from the British man's face.

the black, and now red, piece of clothing barely held together what was supposed to be his head. A gruesome view. Your cold hands went around through his whole body to check if there was any chance it didn't happen like that. That maybe there was a traitor, a mole, a stupid fucking rat who managed to get a shotgun to the Lieutenants throat. But there was nothing but bloody slashes on the limbs and tightened rope patterns on the man's neck. The papers you needed to write for that were as clear as day.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley status has been changed to 'deceased by method of Suicide'.

Report filed by.. [text unreadable]

[lynnhf]

Squishing and Kissing Bat Boys Cheeks

@Batsyforyou gave these (Dick and Damien headcanon ideas, bare-boned) to me and I expanded on them and put in my ideas as well. 

Squishing and Kissing Bruce Wayne’s Cheeks (Plantonic): 

You don’t dare. 

You do NOT.

You chose life, thanks.

I don’t see this happening at ALL. 

Unless of course, he is at his lowest. 

I see this happening when he is in his Bat suit without the cowl sitting slumped in his chair in front of the bat computer. 

He is feeling defeated and you feel like you need to cheer him up. 

But instead of an invigorating talk, you cup his cheeks, squish them, and plant kisses over his face while cooing over him. 

This behavior is so sudden and out of place to him, that it shocks him out of his depressed mood.

You pull away from him. “Better?” Silence. 

You don’t speak of this again. 

Worth it? …Maybe not. 

Squishing and Kissing Damian Al-Ghul Wayne’s Cheeks (Platonic):

Acts like he hates it but secretly likes it. 

As his older sister/friend, you believe that it’s your duty to love on him. 

Your definition of loving on him just happens to include embarrassing cooing, cheek squishing, and kissing. 

Damien would smack your hands away, blushing red saying, “Don’t touch me, peasant.” 

However, this does not deter you, you instead do it more.

Jason and Tim tease him but are secretly Jealous. 

To counteract this behavior, you do to them what you do to Damien. 

Damien then gets to make fun of them in turn. 

Worth it? Kinda, yeah. 

Squishing and Kissing Jason Todd’s Cheeks:

His reaction is… strange. 

He doesn’t know what to do with these feelings and this touch. 

He just freezes up.

He just blinks… then pushes you away roughly. 

He doesn’t mean to hurt your feelings, he just… doesn’t do... that.

But after a while, when you don’t spring it on him, he’ll learn to like it. 

Maybe even smile a bit. 

And after a while of being in a relationship, he’ll respond more energetically. Wide smile, teasing manner, and lifting you up for a tight hug. 

Worth it? …Yes.

Squishing and Kissing Richard John Grayson “Dick” cheeks:

Dick would love the attention. 

Starved for touch that is not simply being beaten up by bad guys.

I could see his girlfriend doing this when Dick comes home to their shared apartment. 

Since he works as a police officer in Bludhaven, I can only imagine the stress he goes through when you add it to vigilante work. 

So being welcomed home by his loving girlfriend makes it all better.

He walks through the door, his girlfriend walks over to him and there you go. 

She gently grabs his cheeks, squishes them gently and plants kisses all over his face. 

This brings a smile to his face. His entire face lights up and practically most of the stress leaves his shoulders. Not all of it, but most. 

In either case, Dick feels loved and cared for. 

Dick leans down to make things easier on her to, his hands either on her hips, or hugging her waist. 

So worth it.

Squishing and Kissing Timothy Drake’s “Tim” Cheeks:

In his tired, sleepless state, you’d just get a sleepy, sloppy smile. 

This boy needs sleep. 

So you’d use this to lure him to bed to sleep. 

Or to take away his 12th coffee cup to give him water instead. 

Or make him sleepy enough to fall asleep. An unexpected side effect the first time you did it. 

It melts your heart to see that sleepy smile, so you keep doing it. 

So what if you turn it into a weapon?

Worth it? Oh yeah.

[soggyriceee]

of course !!! literally been re-reading your stuff all night- !! it’s just so good 🫶🏾🫶🏾

your request are open so can i request jealous price ? (completely fine if not)

~🐰 (< that’s me)

His Princess | Price NSFW

<omg thank you bunny (I hope your okay with the name)! ofc I loved writing this and I hope you enjoyed it just as much <33 >

summary: some new intern at your job seemed to take a liking to you. John however, didnt find that too amusing and shows you, and him, who you belong to

warnings: unprotected p in v, dirty talk, jealous Price, established relationship, implied age gap, female!reader overstimulation, porn

・❥・

Price never got jealous. what was there to be jealous of? he treated you like a princess, cooked for you, wrote you poems no matter how cringe they may be. he was there for every important moment in your adult life and supported you at your lowest. but aside from the romantic and gentle factor, he fucked you really, really well.

and he knew it. he knew how good he made you feel and wasn't worried about not making you feel good. no, he never worried about it. but what he did worry about, was this new guy. Chris. he was young, like you. tall, fit, smart. oh and of course, wasn't a war criminal. it got to him. seeing him walk you out, or text you asking questions he was "too dumb to figure out" during your guys' intimate moments. it made him wanna take your phone and smash it every time his initials popped up on your phone.

but he knew you didnt see this Chris guy that way. you were in love with him, and only him.

but tonight, tonight he couldn't hold keep his jealousy secret.

he picked you up at the usual spot, just outside your office. he waited patiently for you to walk out, already expecting to see Chris following behind you. so when you both came out together he paid little mind. that was until he saw Chris's arm slip around your waist, pulling you in for a hug.

almost immediately he felt his ears and neck turn red with anger, biting his inner cheek with so much force it hurt. but it was all numbed by the jealousy he felt. who was he to touch whats his? his princess?

what made it worse was that you didnt deny the hug. you hugged him back. around the waist, but it didnt matter. it was a form of affection, a form of affection only John thought he got from you. a form of affection he believed only he was able to get.

so when you slid into his passenger side, kissing his cheeks and hugging his neck, he pulled away. "John? why are you acting like that?" you asked, placing your purse in the back seat and kicking off your heels off. he said nothing, pulling out of the driveway while watching Chris get in his own car, keeping mental notice of his black Nissan Altima.

the car ride was silent. you could tell something was wrong by the veins popping from the side of Johns neck, but also his new silence. he was never silent. not unless he was mad. really mad. and it made you nervous because John was a very vocal man. if he was upset at you for something he told you exactly what it was and why. he didnt believe in silent treatment and wills scold you if you give it to him.

so his newfound silence worried you. deeply.

as he pulled into the apartment garage you timidly grabbed your things, scared to even look at him. you didnt want to know what was on his mind, you were terrified. "when we get inside, go straight to the room. im not asking im telling." he said calmly, grabbing the keys from the ignition. you didnt reply, but simply turned to open the door, stepping out.

you followed him like a lost puppy, scared of disobeying anything he had to say. opening the door, John stood to the side, allowing you in first. once you were in, you turned to John, attempting to talk. to say something. "I don't wanna hear it. do as you're told and nothing less." he said, kicking his military boots off, continuing the no eye contact.

with your head hanging low you made your way to the room. was it something you said? maybe he was just having a bad day. but.. why take it out on you? as you made it to the room John followed not to far behind and was quick to slam the door. you jumped, turning to him. his face was still red with anger, his eyes not the same kind, gentle ones he always gave you. no, no these were dark, angry eyes. eyes that told you he wasn't going to show any mercy on you.

"undress. now." he said, his eyes never leaving your frightened ones. you complied, moving your hands to unbutton your shirt, dragging your skirt down not too long after. so there you stood, almost naked in front of this man. "bed." he said, nodding his head towards it. again you complied, sitting on the edge of the bed. you couldn't lie, as much as you were scared, you were also turned on. his dominance always had you going bonkers and he knew that. but this time it seemed like he was genuinely angry with you, and his dominance was not for your own satisfaction.

he walked to the dresser, pulling out a few things. one of those being your dildo you used while he was away. a bright red rushed to your cheeks as he threw it on the bed beside you. "lay back, on the pillow. now." he said, unzipping his sweater he had on and tossing it to the side, exposing the white tank top he had on under. he watched you, scramble to the pillow and lay on your back, looking over to him with those big round eyes. he loved it. it almost made him break. but he couldn't shake the image of that mans arm around your waist, pulling you into him.

he crawled onto of you, spreading your legs. he grunted at the wet spot that was on your panties, looking up at you. "you find this amusing? making me angry?" he asked, hooking his finger under your panties and pulling them from your pussy. you sighed at the cool air hitting your wet pussy, shaking your head. "looks like it." he said, taking his thumb to your clit, applying a generous amount of pressure. you whimpered at his touch, squeezing your eyes shut.

he was right. angry John was hot. it turned you on. made a puddle in your panties. he rubbed his thumb in slow, slow circles, watching your hips jerk up, begging for more. "stop fucking moving." he growled, gripping your hip and pinning it to the bed. again, he goes in small, slow circles.

you couldn't take this. you both knew it. but he was angry. livid. he didnt want to reward you for being a slut, now would he? " he's handsome, isn't he?" John finally asked, watching your pussy clench and unclench. you peeled your eyes open, looking up at him. "w-what?" "you heard me." he growled, shifting his gaze to you. "c-chris? he's just a friend John I-" your breath was cut short when he slid two fingers into you, a gasp sliding out from you. he tilted his head, feeling your pussy grip onto his fingers. "just a friend who wants to fuck you." price retaliated, sliding his fingers out slowly, looking at all your wetness on his fingers.

you couldn't say two words before his fingers slammed back into you, a cry of both pain and pleasure coming from you. "j-john~" you cried out, gripping his forearms. moving his fingers faster, he leaned down, sucking the skin of your neck, leaving dark and big marks. a symbol that you were his and his only. from his lips on your neck to his fingers slamming in and out of your dripping cunt, you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head. "John~ it f-feels so good." you whimpered, back arching from off the bed.

"yea? im so glad baby.." he said, but something in his tone made you second guess if it was genuine or not. he raised himself from off you, grazing his free thumb over the markings, pressing onto the ones that were darkest. "so fucking glad.." he whispered, trailing his eyes up to you.

his fingers moved faster, hitting your g spot exactly each time. the knot you felt in your stomach quickly became undone, your cum coating his fingers and dripping don to his wrists. he smiles for a moment at the mess you made, but it quickly falls. you feel his fingers move again, a gasp slipping from you. "j-john hold on p-please." you cry out, trying to move back and off his fingers. but he growls and holds you down, halting any movements that you make. "this is what sluts get. you wanna go and flirt with other guys, im gonna make sure you never do so much as breathe around him by the end of tonight." he growled, slipping a third finger in.

you groaned at the feeling of you being stretched, a slight pain hitting you every time he moved his fingers back in. "take it. I know you can." he said, watching at tears brimmed your eyes. your mind was fuzzy and coherent sentences was the last thing you could form. quickly you felt the knot return in your stomach, trying your hardest to move back. but his grip was too strong, he had you exactly where he wanted you.

your legs shook and toes curled as your second orgasm happened, your body jerking forwards from the pleasure. "thats it.. thats my good girl.. my princess." he whispered, moving his fingers slowly and enjoying the noises your pussy made for him.

breathlessly, you tried to speak but he shushed you. "don't speak." he said. as he slid his fingers out he reached for his next assault weapon. your dildo. he slapped it on your thighs, sighing. "if only he didnt have to hug you. I could be treating you like the good girl I know you are love." he said, a fake frown upon his lips. you looked up at him, hooded eyes and parted, wet lips, hoping he'd show any mercy. but he wouldn't. not any time soon.

grabbing one of your legs he pulled it up into your chest, aligning the dildo tip at your entrance. "j-john please-" before you could say a work he slammed it into you, a cry coming out from you. your leaned forward, gripping his biceps to try and help the pain. but it didn't. especially since he immediately went to slamming it in and out of you.

he loved this angle because he knew it hit the deepest part of you. the part he always made sure to hit repeatedly if he wanted you a blubbering mess. "its good huh? I bet your imagining it being his cock huh?" he said, gripping your face and forcing you to look up at him. "tell me. you're thinking about him fucking you right now, aren't you?" he asked again, gripping your face harder.

but you shook your head frantically, tears brimming your eyes. the toy kissed your cervix ever so slightly, broken whimpers and cries leaving you. but he loved it. he loved seeing you so broken and disheveled. he loved knowing that he was doing that to you, not some coworker of yours. he looked down, watching the thick toy slide in and out of you with ease, bubbles of your slick popping up every now and then.

"oh you love this dont you. look how wet this pussy is love.. your fucking enjoying it." he whispered, licking his lips. he slowed the movements down, wanting to take in just hot wet you really were. it made the hard on in his pants hurt more, taking his free hand and unbuckling his pants to relieve some of the pressure. he moaned at the slight feeling of freeness, shifting his attention back down to you.

" you think you deserved to get fucked baby? tell me, honestly." he said, sliding the dildo out slightly before sliding it right back in. despite your efforts to reply to him, you couldn't form words. your head was fuzzy and your words came out incoherent. "whats that princess?" he chuckled, halting the dildo. opening your eyes and looking up at his mischievous ones, you mumbled, "yes.. p-please.."

he slid the soaked dildo out, a string of slick coming from you. he moaned at the sight, palming himself through his pants. "fuck lovie... imma fuck you so badly. fill you up with this cum." he growled, quickly sliding his pants down, pulling his hard on through the hole in his boxers. the tip dripped with pre cum, his tip red. you whimpered at the sight, bucking your hips up. he smiled at the sight, shaking his head. "needy slut."

pulling your knees to your chest, he aligns the tip to your hole, looking down at it. the mix of your slick and his pre cum almost made the tip slide right in. but e was quick with it, pulling away. "fuck your wet.. does he make you this wet baby? tell me. tell me he makes you this wet." as much as you wanted to say the truth, you felt like lying would make him fuck you even harder.

"y-yes.. he does." you said meekly, not looking directly into his eyes. but you felt his eyes on you. you felt the anger radiating off of him. " say it again. with your chest this time." he whispers, fingers digging into the sides of your thighs. so, looking up at him from between your thighs, you repeated yourself. "he made me this wet.. " you said.

the look on his face went from angry to something more than angry. something you couldn't even describe. "where's your phone. give it to me now." he said, letting your thighs go. you hesitated but leaned over the bed, grabbing your fallen phone. you handed it to him and he snatched it, shoving you back to where you once were.

"wanna act like a no good slut, imma fuck you like one." he said, facing the phone down to your cunt. you tried to retaliate but he slammed his dick into you, a yelp leaving you. he hissed, gripping your thigh, nail marks following behind. immediately he went in with a fast pace, bending you so your knees now rested beside your head.

never had John gotten jealous. not that he's shown you. and he's never recorded you guys fucking. he thought it was a personal thing between you both. he also didnt want others seeing your perfect body. " you like this, huh? you like getting fucked on camera?" he asked, holding the phone down to record his dick sliding in and out. the room filled with both your noises, skin slapping and the wet sounds of your pussy and his dick making contact.

"J-John~ please" you whimpered, gripping the sheets below you. his tip hit your cervix directly, tears forming in your eyes. "please what? you think you deserve shit right now? huh?" he grabbed your face, forcing you to look up at the camera. "say hi Chris." he said, picking up the pace slowly. you whined, clenching around him despite the embarrassment you felt taking over you. " say hi. dont be rude." he smiled above you, shaking your head side to side gently. "h-hi.. hi Chris." you whimpered, looking up at the camera.

John grunted, moving the camera back to your cunt. he watched you from the camera, moving his hands from his face to your clit, rubbing circles. " you gonna cum again love? I know you want to." he said, shifting his gaze to your twisted face.

he moved one of your legs to lay straight, the other still pressed onto the mattress. he almost came at the sight of his bulge in your lower stomach. "fuck~ J-john im gonna c-cum" you cried, already feeling the wobbliness of your legs coming back. "cum baby. show Chris who makes you cum. show him.. I know he wants to see." he said. moving deeper inside you, slowing down a bit.

your body was on fire, your slick dripping from your pussy despite his dick filling you up. your mind was hazy and you tried your best to focus on John, but you couldn't stop your eyes from rolling back. couldn't stop the drool coming from your mouth. it made a whimper slip from John's lips, the look on your face making his dick twitch. "im close baby.. im so close." he whispered. he held the phone at your connecting sexes, wanting to record the cum pouring from your cunt.

"come on baby. cum. cum for me I know you can do it. be my good little princess and cum all over.. fuck" he watched the cum spurt out of you, some getting onto the camera lens, most of it getting onto his abdomen. tears flowed out your eyes, broken cries coming from your plump lips. he gasped, feeling his own cum shooting out of him at the sight, no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. it was too much for him.

his hips jerked forward, the phone dropping to the bed, his hands pressing on the wall for support. his hips moved back into yours, riding out both your high and his. whimpers left his lips along with heavy pants. "f-fuck" he growled, his body slowly dropping to your. slowly he leaned for the phone, stopping the video. you heard 'sent' ding coming from your phone, realizing he was recording the whole time. "John you cant send that.. its sexual-" "ill kill him if he gets you fired for this." he said, looking down at you.

you knew he was serious. it made you clench around him. he chuckled, kissing your cheek and slowly pulling out before sliding back in, forcing his cum into you. " keep it in there." he whispered, looking up at you with hooded eyes. you smiled, nodding slowly. "I will." you smiled, hugging his neck. he sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"im sorry princess. im got carried away." he said after a moment of silence. you shook your head, kissing the top of his head. " dont apologize. im sorry I let him hug me. I dont think that'll happen anymore." you chuckled. he smiled and nodded, kissing the top of your covered breasts. " I love you princess. so much." he whispered, resting his chin on your chest, looking up at you. you back, running your fingers through his slightly messy beard. "I love you more."

[gunraekae]

having an off day 2

Ophelia by Sir John Everett Millais

>ikemen vampire

>mansion residents (+bonus) x reader

>a/n: the second half of your off day. here is how your morning and early afternoon went.

Leonardo da Vinci

While Leonardo isn’t necessarily your responsibility to awaken (he could really be anywhere in or out of the mansion, it’s far too much effort for anyone to find him and urge him to eat. Let’s not forget he’s an immortal vampire, he doesn’t even need to.), a small and guilty part of you tends to seek him out anyway. He’d done a lot for you when you first stumbled into the mansion and has acted as one of the main components of your support system since then. 

It was nearing noon and after you’ve awoken Napoleon, Leonardo was surprisingly awake and in the library. Perched upon one of the oak armchairs by the window, the sunlight streaming through the glass painted him in a glorious light – reminding you of the timeless beauty the purebloods possess. He looked like he was in one of his own paintings, and you would be a villain to disturb that. 

Still, his vampiric senses had a lower threshold than the others and he could sense your presence (or really, smell your blood) before you even opened the library doors. 

“Surprised I’m up so early, cara mia?” The husky rumble of his baritone voice always sent pleasant shivers down anyone’s spine. His golden eyes, brightened by the sunlight, peered above the book he held in one hand straight at yours. 

“I suppose.”

“Hmm… come closer will you?” His wolfish eyes narrowed in disdain at your lethargic response. Reluctantly, you follow his command and sit across from him at the window. He discards his book, leaning on his knees to get a better look at your morose disposition. A displeased hum, then he places a finger under your chin to move your face even closer to his. 

“That won’t do. Such an emotion dims your eyes.” His artist-eye grazes over your face, observing your downturned lips and your swollen, teary eyes. A knowing smirk, and he settles back on the armchair. He leans on the armrest, the slouching figure alluring in his own charm. 

“You’re a smart girl. You can guess what’ll happen next, can’t you?” His handsome smirk grows at your knowing sigh. 

“Just don’t throw me over your shoulder this time.” 

“No promises, cara mia.” He huffs as he rises and moves to your side. With a motion for you to raise your arms, he at least carries you princess-style as he speeds to the mansion’s exit. 

It’s not entirely unpleasant being in Leonardo’s strong arms, and you find the warmth almost soothing to your turbulent thoughts. He takes you to your signature spot: a small dock on one of the more solitary ends of the Seine river. He wants to give you the princess treatment, so he’ll slowly row the two of you down the water. 

On the romantic boat-ride through the Seine, with Leonardo’s golden eyes trained on your face and giving you his full attention, it would be quite difficult to resist confiding in him. In your lowest moments so far, he’d been nothing short of comforting — holding you in his arms when you were afraid during your first night, sleeping outside your door for the following week, and whisking you away from your chores to dispel the unhealthy façade you kept up. 

In fact, a small part of Leonardo is ecstatic that you felt safe and comfortable enough with him and the other residents that you could freely express your more negative emotions with them (but hopefully mostly with him. Forgive him, he can be a bit possessive). 

However long it takes you to quell the darkness in your mind, Leonardo is there to receive anything you throw at him. He can wrap you in a warm embrace and caress your back, offer you wise advice to your problems, or just listen to your thoughts. Whatever you need most, Leonardo will give it to you. 

Leonardo hopes you’ll always run into his arms any time you have problems and allow him to fix it, like he does with machines. That being said, he doesn’t mind seeking you out and literally carrying you away from your responsibilities to ease your torment. Wrapped in his big, strong arms and shielded from your worries, it’d be difficult not to feel at ease with this loveable dork. Anything and everything you ask for he’ll deliver, and if you don’t know what that is, he’ll give you a familiar experience that comforted you in the past. There isn’t much that fazes him with his long years on Earth, but just the teary sheen over your eyes is enough to twist his heart in painful knots. 

Isaac Newton

Lost in his bustling mind and distracted by an equation he couldn’t quite solve last night, he unfortunately only caught Theo’s grumbles of “pouring his own damn coffee,” and your departing figure to the kitchen. He thought nothing of it, believing Theo was just being his usual insufferable self and holed up in his study for the day.

If you weren’t responsible for delivering lunch to him, he’d have never caught wind of your off-character today. So when your voice behind his door lacked its usual lively pitch, he wanted to bash his head open for not noticing it during breakfast. 

When you entered his study you quietly placed the tray on one of his tables, wishing for an easy escape from his calculating rosy eyes. At your quickly retreating figure, the swirling worries in Isaac’s head scolded him for his indifference and how that coldness definitely would break your heart. He grasped at your sleeve and pulled you with more force than he intended, landing your entire upper body on his lap. (You’ll have to forgive his awkward execution, he really means well.)

“I’m terribly sorry mc! I didn’t mean to do that.” He bristles and helps you regain your composure. “Actually, I did intend to pull you closer. I want to apologise as well for not noticing you sooner. I should have been the first to seek you out.” While he does mean what he says, he finds that maintaining eye contact is a bit difficult and from his blushing ears, you can tell he’s just nervous. 

“The first? Isaac, you don’t have to do anything.” Similar to him, you felt ashamed that he felt obligated to comfort you. Isaac, upon noticing that, wildly shook his hands in firm rejection of that implication.

“Not at all! You’ve always been there for me mc; defending, accompanying, encouraging me. Perhaps it’s even a bit selfish, but seeing your smile is the highlight of my day. Without it, I find I’m in a bit of a bind, as you can see.” He gestures for the messy scrawls of that damn equation he can’t seem to solve. 

“I hope you won’t let Theo’s boorish manners bother you. And I hope you won’t mistake my foolishness for indifference either. I want to be here for you, mc. I’m not like Napoleon, so I admit this doesn’t come easy to me, but I want to be close to you.” Isaac rises from his chair to move closer to you. 

Despite his rapid pulse, his trembling hands find yours and squeeze them gently. “Please tell me all that ails you, all your frustrations, and stresses, and allow me to do for you what you’ve always done for me.” 

His sincerity is touching. Isaac sits you down on one of the seats by his table and offers you half the sandwich you made for him. Whatever you indulge Isaac with, he eagerly accepts. He can’t help the fascinated gleam in his eyes at the unfiltered emotions in your expression — in fact, his heart actually warms at being able to do this for you. 

It was inevitable that a few tears escaped your eyes; while it did sink his heart, Isaac seized the opportunity to be closer to you. In a surprising show of boldness, he tucks a strand that obscured your face, behind your ear. “Thank you, darling, for showing me this side of you.” He murmured intimately. 

“Isaac, you’re—”

The confidence that deluded him in that moment quickly dissipated at your surprised face. “I apologise! I’m not sure what came over me then.” Perhaps it was because it was just you and him, and he found your presence far easier to relax in than anyone else, but he found it in him to laugh. 

“You’re really a wolf in sheep’s clothing sometimes.”

“You can blame my teasing on yourself. After all, you’re the reason my new life is more hectic—” Isaac chuckles “but I can’t say that hasn’t made it so much happier.” 

After supper, Isaac timidly approaches you in the kitchen. “I’ve set up my telescope out in the yard tonight… Would you care to join me?” 

Laying on the soft grass with Isaac was incredibly soothing, the picturesque night sky splattered with the many shining stars, unpolluted by the 19th century Paris city. Isaac would focus the lens on specific constellations and allow you to view them through the telescope. While you admired its brightness, he’d excitedly tell you about each one. Eventually, the day’s fatigue would catch up to you, and Isaac, noticing it, would seat himself a little bit closer to you, in hopes you’d lay your head on his ready shoulder. 

Finally, soft peace had settled on your hardened features. It was during moments like these with you that Isaac envied the artists’ talents — they could capture this moment for eternity and he only had his memory to keep the sight in his mind. In spite of that regret though, a part of him was proud that it was him who could witness this adorable sight. 

While extremely awkward in execution, Isaac’s heart breaks in two at the mere thought of you feeling upset. This is worsened when it takes him longer than the others to notice it — couple that with his less-than-stellar social skills, and he’s bound to mess up in the process. But his sweet intentions shine through his small, affectionate gestures and his eagerness to listen to you. It’s quite adorable how happy he feels that he can finally return some semblance of what you’ve done for him. He’d provide his room as a safe space, but he’ll also gladly bring his telescope and stargaze with you in the courtyard. If you doze off, he’ll offer his shoulder and feel blessed that you shared your day with him, the feeling even sweeter knowing that it was him you chose to spend the evening with. 

Jean d’Arc

Part of your evening routine was to meet with Jean in the library after supper and practice writing. Tonight, despite your mood, you felt it would be far too cruel to abandon poor Jean, who found it hard to spend time with others; it was only through these sessions that you could foster a connection with the elusive man. 

Jean was extremely blessed that your radiant presence was in the library for him tonight. Napoleon had informed him earlier of your despondent spirits. Initially, it spurred an almost murderous glint in Jean’s eye at whoever had caused you suffering, but with Napoleon’s clarification, his rage on your behalf settled into a thorny discontent.

Of all people to suffer torment, why did it have to be mc; his radiant angel? The kind soul who ensured that night-after-night, she found time to teach and accompany him? It was because of your beautiful self that his chest was not as heavy with the weight of his sins everyday. And yet, you also had to endure these torturous emotions, despite all that you’d done for him. It truly did not make sense in Jean’s mind. It should be monsters like him that suffer, not angels like you. 

So Jean resolved it within himself that he would do all that he could to alleviate the weight in your heart and fight the shadows that dared to dim the brightness in you. 

Unbeknownst to you, after his work he wrote a letter that communicated his sincere appreciation and sheer affection for you, far better than he could verbally. He wrote of his sadness that a person like you, who cared so much for others and always put themselves last, suffered behind a smile. He longed to one day be as expressive as the writers (he never thought the day would come that he’d envy the likes of Arthur or Dazai) so that he could comfort you directly with words instead of having to convey all his sentiments through a letter. 

Safe to say that when Jean handed you his clumsily penned letter, tears immediately rushed down  your face at his touching sincerity. Jean grew alarmed, blaming himself for causing you further distress. You stopped him from kneeling on the ground for repentance and instead, wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. 

“Thank you Jean. You’re much kinder than you think.” Jean would be a touch flustered, but would wrap an arm around your shoulders to offer you the comforting embrace he only dreamed he could give you. And yet, here he was, finally able to offer you at least a semblance of peace in small payment for all you’ve unknowingly done for him. 

It was absolutely unfathomable to Jean that such a radiant and kind person like you had to suffer some of the torturous thoughts like he had. It felt wrong that God would allow those thoughts to plague your brilliant mind; so Jean, aware of his shortcomings in this department, would absolutely try his best to fight your demons for you. Words were extremely difficult for Jean to convey, but he’d try to make you proud by doing so in a letter. Your brightness prevented him from succumbing to the haunting shadows of his past. His sheer devotion and protectiveness for you would be revealed in that letter, but if you needed him to support you in-person: whether by embracing you in his strong arms, punching out your frustrations on his sturdy chest, or burying your face in his neck to block out the world, Jean would do all of it for you. 

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

The day had stretched on, and while most of your heartache was eased from the residents’ efforts, insomnia purged your rest nonetheless. You knew that remaining under your warm blankets would change nothing of your predicament, so perhaps a short walk (by the mansion’s standards) to the kitchen for a glass of water would arouse drowsiness back in your hazy mind. 

On your way, you passed by Mozart’s studio. Tonight he played a more serene song, the soft notes floating through the air and quelling some of the remaining despair in your head. You didn’t mean to, as you knew that Mozart hated to be disturbed while practising (really only for the men — it was difficult to be upset at you), but you lingered by his ivory doors. 

Suddenly, his song ceased. “Come in, mc.” Startled at the fact that he heard you, and even more at recognising you from what little sound you made, you were compelled to follow his command. 

Mozart was always a vision to look at: the moonlight streaming through the gap in his window was reflected in his alabaster locks. Awaiting for you, his deep purple eyes were unreadable as it scanned your figure. If you looked even closer, there was a discernible trace of worry that twisted his brows. 

“What was with you today?” Not one to mince words, Mozart hit right where it was sensitive. 

“It’s nothing of concern.” Mozart huffed indignantly. To you this resembled his usual shortness with you, but inside, he was deeply envious at the fact that you opened up to everyone except him today. Wanting to remedy that inconsistency, he rose from his seat and advanced towards you. 

“Liebchen.” He insisted as he reached for your hand. 

“You have enough to worry about, Wolf.”

“And I want you to be one of them.” As opposed to his usual rough manners with you, he softly stroked your knuckles. Since he knew that it would be difficult for you to dredge up and unearth your worries once again, he settled for providing you a small piece of comfort for the night. 

Mozart gently guided you by the wrist to sit beside him before his grand piano. 

“Would you like to try a duet I drafted recently? I haven’t been able to complete it because I had no partner—” he trailed his fingers from your wrist to your hands to unclench them “until now.” He delicately intertwined his long fingers around yours and gave your hand a loving squeeze. Then, he carefully guided your hands down to the piano keys. 

He slowly taught you a small part of the song, and within a few tries, you were quick enough to match the tempo he had in mind. Your attempt at the duet together went as well as expected, the discordant notes completely altering the softly romantic song to a playful one instead. 

To your surprise, a loud chuckle burst out of Mozart. “How clumsy,” he said, his eyes squinting in unadulterated affection. 

If you confide in Mozart of your lingering disturbance and your insomnia, Mozart will guide you toward the bedroom connected to his studio. Mozart had to fluff up the unused pillows but urged you under the covers anyway. He’d leave the door open and play the most soothing lullaby on his piano to quell your sleeplessness. 

Mozart is rather brusque and difficult to approach — painfully aware of that, he knew he wasn’t the first you’d approach, as much as it hurts him to admit that fact. Still, when the opportunity arose later that night with just the two of you, Mozart jumped at the chance to ease your pain. He’d try to cheer you up in his own way, but ultimately does what he knows best. He doesn’t play for anyone at all, and while many of his songs are dedicated to important historical figures, he documents a few pieces solely to you and caters to whatever you need most at that moment. Tonight, he plays an improvised song of yearning: he imagines a quiet man, unable to properly express the depth of his love for his dearest one, humming this soothing lullaby to send his suffering love to slumber. 

Bonus: William Shakespeare

Unfortunately, Will is physically and figuratively out of the loop with the happenings in the mansion. Your off day being one of the most regrettable events that he missed out on. 

He longed to have witnessed the harsh colours of despair taint your lovely visage and have been the man to lift that darkness. 

He yearns to have been the loving angel to embrace you while your tears wet the earth. He imagines that black roses and blue violets would grow from your tears that watered the ground. 

He longs to have been the dashing knight that whisked you away from your responsibilities and brought you to a secret place that only the two of you knew about. The intimacy of being the only one to witness your vulnerable side was tragically enticing for him. 

How fortunate the mansion residents were to bear witness to all the mesmerising dimensions you had. Capricious Fate has tricked him yet again in this instance as he can only hear about this event from Vincent. How tragic was he that he had only his imagination to provide him inaccurate images of your tainted beauty that day. 

While he knew this day had long passed, he couldn’t stop his longing fingers from scribing a letter to you, urging a visit as soon as possible so that he may offer a belated gift of comfort and perhaps, selfishly, indulge in your presence. 

He’d deliver a bouquet of those blue violets, carnations, and chrysanthemums to you (thanks in part to his vampiric benefactor), coupled with an expensive gift of several rings (so that you may imagine it was his fingers intertwined with yours) and a floral perfume that matches the flowers. 

Bonus: Vlad

After your boat-ride with Leonardo, the two of you idly strolled about town. Leonardo quickly left to purchase a box of cigarillos from a foreign vendor, the limited stock too alluring for him to pass up on. You insisted on waiting on a nearby bench, a little ways away from the busy stand. 

“A storm is brewing behind those lovely eyes. I wonder what caused it and what incompetent ward has allowed it to continue.” Vlad’s sweet voice sounded right beside your ear. You jumped, much to his amusement, but the underlying protectiveness under that pleasant expression was marked by you nonetheless. 

“Has he been overworking you?” 

You hastily quell the accusation Vlad threw in the air. 

“I wonder what could be the cause of those dark clouds in my darling’s eyes.” Vlad sighs in stark concern, lifting a hand to your temple gently massaging it. 

“I wonder what worries your pretty head.” He moves that same hand to your forehead and smooths the wrinkles there. 

“And I wonder what caused these soft lips to frown.” He trails his fingers from your head down to your cheek, and finally on your lower lip. The delicate way he handled your face felt as if you were a newly bloomed flower that was too sensitive to nature’s forces and required Vlad’s devoted care. 

There was both gentleness and a stark possessiveness with how familiarly and easily he glided his fingers across your face. It seemed he longed to touch even more of you, but found restraint and settled in tucking your hair away from your face instead. 

“If you stayed in my castle instead of his mansion, you won’t know any misery or work.” He longingly stroked the ends of your hair and eventually trailed his fingers to meet with your hands. Upon closer inspection, Vlad laments the dryness from cleaning products on your hands. He lovingly strokes your knuckles before lifting them to his lips kissing each one. 

“Cara mia, I don’t have to beat this guy to get him to back off, do I?” 

A painful expression overtook Vlad’s sweet face, and with great reluctance, he backs off as per Leonardo’s request. 

“Such brutes he houses. No wonder my flower has withered in their company.” 

Before Leonardo could provoke him further, you led him away from Vlad, whose eyes longingly followed you until you were out of his sight. 

Bonus: Charles-Henri Sanson

While waiting for Arthur to pay for his gifts for you, you sat on a bench outside the busy store. A pair of familiar lilac eyes brightened at the sight of your figure. He bounded over to you like a loving puppy reuniting with its owner. This unfortunately startled you as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders from behind. 

“Mc! It’s been way too long since I’ve seen you. I really really really missed you.” He murmured while nuzzling his face into your neck. To your relief, he reluctantly released you from his hold, only to sit right next to you. 

Only when he could take a closer look at your expression does his cheerful face crumble. He tenderly cups your face and mourns the wistful spirit of it. “My poor mc, what happened?” 

You shook your head, unable to meet his worried eyes. This breaks Charles-Henri’s heart even further as he wishes he could take whatever was bothering you and replace it with his love instead. In that thought process an idea springs into his head. 

He takes your hand, and after squeezing it, places it near his heart. “I want you to channel all your sadness into this hand and give it all to me instead.” His silly charade breaks you out of your stupor, and since you don’t have the heart to reject his sweet lilac eyes, you relent and play along. 

“Good girl. Now, I’m going to channel all my love for you in my hand and place it in your heart. Ready?” He places his hand on your chest and playfully scrunches his face as if he was straining. “Mmmm… there! Did you feel my love enter you?” 

Ignoring the suggestive statement and the even more suggestive position you two were in, his hopeful face was too innocent to reject. 

“Yes, I think I felt a little bit of warmth enter me just now.” 

Charles-Henri’s face lit up in adorable joy. 

“Whatever you’re going through, I know you can overcome it. You’ve healed the darkness in me, and many others’ and we owe you for that.”

“Thank you Charles.”

A satisfied hum left his lips as he leaned even closer to you.

“I love you so much mc—”

“You can scamper off now, Sanson.” Arthur’s annoyed voice sounded from behind you. Charles willfully ignored him as he continued to squeeze your hand. 

“I hope you can feel my love whenever you’re sad like this—”

“Leave, old boy! Can’t you see she’s had enough of you?” 

“Come visit me and the others at the church soon!” Almost comically, Arthur drags Charles away by his collar. He turns around and waves at you. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but a small smile reached its way to your lips at Charles' cute antics. 

thank you once again for taking the time to read my writing. there were a few I wasn't too satisfied with, but I hope you liked it nonetheless.

leave a like and/or a reblog if this was a fun read for you. despite its self-indulgence, I hope this comforted you a lil bit.

have a wonderful day my love <3

[lovelyjj]

Concept - JJ introduces reader to the pogues

-💜 Anon

thank you for requesting means the world to me!

—————————

It was finally time for you to meet JJ’s friends. You and JJ have been dating for a couple weeks. JJ could already tell that you were the one. You were his entire world. Some might say you were in the early stages of the relationship, so how could JJ know these things? He felt it, felt it in his bones.

Your relationship with JJ was very important to you. It was going well so far. You were both very happy. It was the afternoon time when you and JJ were relaxing in your room.

Both of you were on your bed. JJ was grazing your thigh in up and down movements with his hand. Your breathing was slow. You were sharing each other’s body heat. Then JJ got to thinking and he realized you’ve never met his friends before.

JJ’s friends were suspicious of you. They knew JJ had someone that was making him happy and lovesick all the time. They just didn’t know who. So they were anxious to meet the new person in JJ’s life.

“Listen baby, I promised I’d go surfing with the gang today but let’s set up a day where you can meet my friends ok?” JJ explained.

“Sure Jayj, have fun see you soon!”

——————

You and JJ decided on Saturday, a couple days after his surfing trip. It was a day all the other Pogues were free. You were nervous because you wanted to make a good first impression.

JJ and the Pogues decided to meet at the château. JJ picked you up and you both made your way to John B’s. You stepped off JJ’s bike and saw a group of people on the porch.

As you walked up the steps hand in hand with JJ, you tried your best to extinguish your nerves.

“Hey look whose here,” a tan boy with wavy hair said who you later found out was John B.

“Hey, bree bree,” JJ responded.

“Um everyone this is Y/N, Y/N this is the Pogues,” JJ announced.

You smiled at everyone and said, “nice to meet you all.”

“I’m Kiara,” a girl from the couch introduced.

“I’m John B, and over there that’s Pope,” John B voiced.

“So your the girl Js obsessed with,” Pope spoke.

“I wouldn’t put it like that but I am his girlfriend,” you shyly explained.

JJ kissed your forehead and then said, “Yep she’s all mine, aren’t I the luckiest guy in the world.”

“Congrats JJ,” John B whistled.

You and JJ got cozy on the couch and started chatting about anything and everything. You liked JJ’s friends. They were hilarious and kind.

“So Y/N, what do you like to do for fun?” John B asked.

“Oh you know party, hang out with JJ, go to the beach, read.”

“What’s it like dating JJ?” Kiara asked with a smirk.

JJ looked at you with heart eyes and then you answered her question. “He’s my best friend and there’s never a dull moment. He’s my everything and more. It’s like having someone who understands you and will always be there for you.”

“Aw that’s so sweet, I think you guys are perfect for each other,” Kiara responded.

“You guys are the best I can see why JJ is so fond of you,” you started.

“Can I tell her?” JJ asked.

The group all nodded and grinned.

“Wanna be a Pogue for life?”

“A what?”

“It’s what we call ourselves,” John B shared.

“It’s the working class that live on the cut, the throwaway fish, the lowest member of the food chain,” JJ expressed.

“It means friendship and trust as well as heart,” Pope began.

You looked at JJ who gave you a nod and then you smiled and said, “It would be my honor.”