#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!)

[bbearthyy]

JJ Maybank is a Mama’s Boy

CW: dom!reader, sub!jj, mommy kink, handcuffs, blindfold, using a gag? i dunno how to word that, sex toys (plug, cock ring), overstim?, edging, use of safe word, aftercare

-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-

Everyone knew it. The pogues did, the kooks did, his boss, the cops, all of OBX knew that JJ didn’t take shit from no one…except his Mama.

“Jackson James Maybank get your ass over here now!” The boy froze, wincing as he knew he’d been caught. The boys had promised that they wouldn’t go fishing this morning, the shop was closed for the day and they were all supposed to sleep in and relax. So one can imagine how pissed the girls were when they woke up to empty beds. You stood on the porch, arms crossed, between Sarah and Cleo; Kie stood in the doorway giggling behind you. The three of you giving your boys the meanest looks you could muster.

John B was the first to surrender, walking up to Sarah and gathering her in his arms. “Mornin’ pretty girl.” He walked inside, knowing that he’d be forgiven as soon as he got between her thighs.

Pope went next, slightly more hesitant. Giving Cleo a shy smile he wrapped his arms around her waist, “‘M sorry baby,” he mumbled, hiding his face in her neck. “Peer pressure y’know.” The girl sighed, pulling her boyfriend inside, already folding.

Kie held in her laugh as she watched JJ, clearly scared to see his girls angry face, walking as slow as possible towards the porch with his head down. She walked towards the shop, going to check inventory, shouting to JJ on her way past, “Good luck Jayj!”

When he finally made his way to you he was tense, bottom lip trembling, tears already pooling on his lash line. “Mama-,” he begin, reeling back as if he’d been hit when you immediately cut him off. “Don’t, ” you began, tone biting, “Bad boys don’t get to talk to me. Go inside and sit on our bed. I want you naked by the time I make it in there.” The boy began scurrying inside, trying to save his ass as he went, “Mama please it was John B’s idea I swear!” But you didn’t care to hear it.

-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-

JJ cried, trying his hardest to apologize to you through the gag. He couldn’t see you, eyes shielded with the blindfold, but he could feel you watching him. The two of you had been in your bedroom for the past three hours now, and you hadn’t let JJ cum once. He was getting desperate, legs trembling and kicking all over the bed, trying to pull away from the overstimulation. After multiple hand jobs, and almost an entire hour of fingering, you’d left him. (You hadn’t actually, you were sitting on the dresser at the end of the bed, watching closely if he needed to tap out) His arms were handcuffed to the bed frame, wrists red and no doubt bruising from how hard he was pulling on the restraints. He had a bandana over his eyes as a blindfold, a similar one in his mouth to gag him. A plug pressed deep into him, all 7 inches of it making him feel so full. You’d put a cock ring on him as well, vibrating on the lowest setting, though it still felt like torture.

You watched silently, biting down the urge to praise him, to pet his legs gently and press them onto the bed, to assure him that he was almost done. But this was a punishment, and you weren’t going to indulge. Suddenly, his legs stop kicking, instead curling up into his chest. He’s stopped trying to speak through the gag, and is now shaking his head repeatedly. You tilt your head, watching him closely but still not speaking, when it happens. He starts snapping the fingers on his right hand quickly, his nonverbal safe word, and if you could tell anything by the swiftness of it, he needed out now.

You were quick to grab the remote for the cock ring, turning it off immediately and swiftly but gently removing it as you began speaking, crawling over his body to straddle him as you go to remove all of his restraints. “It’s okay baby, sh sh sh, Mama’s right here. Hold on sweet boy lemme get you down. Take deep breaths.” JJ was falling into subdrop, and he was falling fast. As soon as you pulled the gag out of his mouth he was crying out, “MAMA!” You snatched the blindfold off next, quickly unlocking the handcuffs as your baby cried. As soon as the cuffs came loose he flew into your arms, burying his face into your chest as he sobbed, struggling to breath. “No more mama, n’ more please. Ah- I can’t mommy i’m sorry, ’m sorry, ’m s’rry.”

You removed your shirt and bra, knowing he’s going to need that skin on skin contact. Pulling him into your lap and against your chest, you mumble out constant praises, gently rocking him side to side. “It’s alright baby boy, you’re okay. Hush now little one. We’re all done. No more Jay. Just breathe. Deep deep breaths. Mama’s right here.” He nestled into your chest, mouth moving over your right nipple as he began to suck, his right hand coming up to hold your left breast, soothing himself. “Do you wanna cum baby? Mama’ll make it quick.” You weren’t surprised to see him shake his head no, he usually denied an orgasm if he had to tap out, feeling too worn out to want it anymore.

“You still have the plug in, honey, do you want me to take it out?” Your comment seems to remind him that it was there in the first place, his shoulders tensing, before he shakes his head ‘no’. His eye lids flutter shut, body fully relaxing against yours as he soothes. He trusts his Mama, and knowing that you’ll take care of him is the last thought he has, smiling softly around the breast in his mouth as he falls asleep.

-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-

[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

[amaryllis-22]

Okay, hear me out... Last week I woke up in the middle of the night with this idea, and it has been haunting me ever since, so I decided to share it.

(AFAB reader)

After devoting most of your life to serving the nation, in some sort of weird, anticipated mid-life crisis, you realised you needed something more.

You wanted a baby, desperately.

And what had you thought at that point, pray tell, instead of working on finding a relationship and building your own sweet family? Obviously asking your captain to get you pregnant.

Indeed the first sensible answer anyone would have come up with.

So, with perhaps too much hope and little to no certainty, you had suggested it and received in return the most intense look Price had ever given you since you had known him. You almost expected a no, but he had agreed to help you, surprisingly, and as bizarre as it might sound.

Don't be fooled, though. John was only pursuing his lowest and most personal interest, rather than doing you a favour. After all, how could he have refused when you had handed on a silver platter what he had come to crave in recent years?

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 𖤓⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

✎ I already happen to have a longer version of this sitting in my drafts (I'm still working on it) and may publish it in the future!

[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?

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Love on the brain

Ch 2.

Series Master list

CW: check the main master list for warnings.

It has been three days since the fight you had with your husband. During that time, the police interviewed you, asking if you would like to press charges. You were on the fence but, in the end, decided not to go through with it. There was an inkling of hope that him having the cops called with the threat of ruining his career would be enough to get that damn divorce and from there you'd figure it the fuck out. The clinic had given you information on domestic violence and different hot lines to call for help. There was the option of going to a women's shelter but you weren't going to put your children through that indignity. All three of them have had enough of that.

Kenny's mother had come by the house on day two. She had with her a roast and a sorry apology on behalf of her son. The woman was detestable, who could raise a man so cruel and then say “Maybe if you did your wifely duties right, he wouldn't act this way.” After she said that Kenny would stay at her house and that she would bring the pastor and him by so everyone could come to Jesus.

It had taken every ounce of your being not to swing on her. If you stayed, you were sure you'd be meeting Jesus face to face, so that he could ask you “Child, why didn't you take the boat we sent you?”.

At the same time, though, you knew you were in a rock and a hard place. You and your children were immigrants. You were a stay at home mom, which in hindsight was stupid. Until you knew for certain how you were going to house and feed your kids, you were stuck because money was a thing, and children couldn't live off of hope and love.

“Mom!” Jabari came running into the kitchen, he was out of breath and had a big fat grin on his face. “Mr Price is at the door!”

You stopped chopping the celery for dinner and wiped your hands on your apron. John Price had been nice enough to come to you and your family's rescue three days ago, and you felt bad that you didn't have the time to thank him. You peaked out the back door window to check on the girls, both of them happily playing with dolls together. Jada was busy trying to explain to Jayla the little storyline that was being played out, and Jayla was only too happy to just be included. After making sure they were okay, you followed the sounds of Jabari excitedly chattering away by the door.

“Actually Mr.Price, I'm like the best when it comes to rugby. It's sorta like football except without the padding!” Jabari laughed.

“You play football?” John had asked.

“The American football, sir.” He answered, “but honestly, I'll play any sport as long as it has a ball. I tried to get mom to let me play hockey once, but she said her pockets could only take so much.”

“Jabari, don't have this man thinking we're poor.” You scold as you scruff him by the neck. Your voice doesn't match the scolding, though. You sound absolutely smitten by your son and how he's in a good mood again. The last three days, he's been hovering around you and his sisters and insisting that you all should sleep in the same bed. He only wiggles out of your grip and laughs.

“Run along so the adults can talk.” You tell him.

“But mom” He whines loudly, holding onto your arm.

“Listen soldier,” John smiles at him, “how about you give me and your mum a few minutes and after I'll get the guys to play a game with you, your choice.”

Jabari doesn't need to be told twice, and he is dashing off to his room, saying that he is gonna teach the Brits about real football. You only laugh and shake your head before turning to John. Your body feels warm from embarrassment, which is more like shame, to be honest. Shame that he had seen you and your children at your lowest, and that was his first time meeting you.

“Uhm…” You search for the words, the right words that convey how thankful you are. “Listen, thank you for-.”

He stops you before any more words could be said, “You don't need to thank me for doing the right thing, miss.” His eyes, so pretty and blue and surprisingly warm. When was the last time you even had someone look at you with such warmth and understanding?

You can't bear to hold his gaze any longer, and you look away. “John, I have to pay you and your friends back for intervening. It would make me feel okay.”

He doesn't say anything else and just hums once. “Is he coming back?”

You don't say anything and cross your arms around your stomach. You want the ground to open up and swallow you whole. When the silence is loud and clear, you expect judgment. Instead, he just hums in thought again.

“I never got your name miss.” He says.

“It's Imani.” You finally look back at him. He's now leaning against the frame of the doorway, a thoughtful look on him. John nods his head once and smiles. There's still no judgment.

“Well, I want to leave you my number and the boys’ number so you can call us no matter what.” He's already pulling out his phone.

“Oh, John, I couldn't-” You're shocked, that's for sure.

“No choice, Miss.” He is firm on this decision, and somehow that makes you flustered. “I already spoke to the guys, and we very much want to make sure you and the kids are safe, at least until the bloke is handled for good.” His voice drops low at the mention of your husband.

You don't say anything else as you pull your old little phone out from your apron pocket and let him input his number and his roommates numbers into your phone. He then gets your number just as Jabari comes running back to the front door. He's got his football, and he's pulling on John's hand to take him to the backyard.

“Come on Mr.Price!” Jabari is insistent, “we just gotta make sure we stay out of Jada and Jayla's play party. The girls get testy when you bother them.” He laughed.

“Sure thing, soldier, just let me call the guys over, and we can get to it.” He looks to you asking for permission.

You only nod with a smile, “I don't mind, stay out of my flower beds…” you bite your lip between your teeth, deciding to take a risk, “We're having chicken and dumplings tonight, you all can stay over for dinner.”

John is clearly surprised, but Jabari is already answering for him. “Yeah, Mr. Price and his friends would love to stay!”

“Jabari.” You warn, but your son is already pulling John along to the back kitchen door.

As soon as the two of them were outside, your son could be heard yelling over the fence. “Don't worry about the front door, Mr.Johnny, just hop the fence!”

“I hope that boy doesn't make it a habit of hopping the fence.” You mumble and get back to working on dinner.

When dinner comes, your dining room table has the leaf put in, and four extra chairs pulled up. Each one of the very solid men at the table is covered in grass stains and is laughing (well ¾) with your children about the impromptu football game.

“You really are quick on your feet.” Kyle says to Jabari, “you must be a right terror on the field.”

“Jabari is quick because mom says that he got his speed from out running Nana's switch.” Jada is busy sitting her doll in Simon's lap, ignoring her brother's squawks of protest, “you two have to share a seat since that's where Anni normally sits.”

Simon, to his credit, takes it all in stride and only grunts in agreement. He isn't wearing the skull mask from before, just a plain black one. It's ridiculous really, seeing him hold the raggedy Anne doll so politely.

“So Imani lass, ya’ve been here for a few months, ya likin’ it's far?” Johnny (who, for some reason, Jabari has been allowed to call Soap).

You bring out the large pot as he's asking this and set it down on the table, “I like it so far, but doing any type of conversion for temperature, shopping and my personal enemy asking for tea and getting hot tea and not cold has been an adjustment.”

Kyle raises an eyebrow, “Cold tea?” There's a look of something on his face. It's the same look you get from Kenny's mother when you put ice in a cup and poor hot sugary tea over it.

By this time, Jabari had brought out the two pitchers of iced tea and set them on the table. “Well duh, how else are you supposed to drink tea?”

“Manners love.” You pinch your brows together, “don't forget he's still an adult.”

“Yes ma'am.” He says and takes his spot right between Johnny and Kyle.

“Kid's alright.” Kyle laughs, “I forgot for a moment that Americans do tea differently.”

You smile and avoid eye contact with him, “The fact that we are having chicken and dumplings with corn muffins should say everything about my thoughts on hot tea versus cold tea.”

“Daddy says when you make tea, mommy, it's enough to give a man diabetes.” Jada pipes up again.

“Sugar in a cup.” Jayla whispers, it's so quiet she giggles.

Everyone is laughing at your exasperated sigh and look that you give your daughters. The cultural differences are cute and funny, and as you look around your table, there comes a sense of peace. It feels for a moment that this is a normal family dinner with which the neighbors just happened to stop by. All the fellas got along just well learning touch football and in a hilarious turn of events Simon was the one roped into the game of tea party.

You're sad that this isn't your reality.

“You all have a good night, and don't hesitate to call if you need anything.” John said as he and his boys left the house. He was pleasantly surprised when Jabari was asking if they could play again soon, and the next time, they would play soccer.

“Aye, it's called football ya wee terror.” Soap had ruffled his hair.

“Well you're on American soil when you're at our house, and we call it soccer!” He ducked from under the man's hand. He was all smiles.

You shook your head and looked back at John, “I will, and thanks again for everything. Jada let Mr. Simon go so he can go home, I don't think he wants to babysit Anni, so you can have me time tonight.”

Poor Simon was bogged down with a pink backpack, a baby's bottle, and a pink stroller. Jada crossed her arms and stared up at you, “But Mr. John just said we could call them! You get me time every time Daddy leaves, why can't I?”

“Okay! Enough talking young ma'am, in the house!” You laugh nervously. You can feel the tension and shame creeping up your spine, but mercifully, none of the men comment on the mention of ‘me time’. After you send your son and daughter into the house, the only one clinging to you is Jayla. Her big wide brown eyes are staring up at John and flickering between him, Johnny, Kyle, and Simon. She waves shyly before darting back into the house.

“I don' mind keeping her doll for the night.” it's the first time that Simon has spoken all evening. You are taken back by both his accent and how deep his voice is.

“Really you-” you begin to say, but he's already taking the doll and all of the doll's things across the lawn. Johnny is cackling, and Kyle is just pinching the bridge of his nose. They both bid you goodnight. John gives you one last lingering smile and a nod.

“Get some rest tonight.” His voice is warm, and it's sweet like the tea that he politely drank at dinner without complaint. They all didn't complain about the dinner and rather enjoyed it quite a bit. It was a far cry from how your husband often critiqued (if calling some of the nastiest things said about your cooking can be called as such).

You watch until John is in his house across the lawn. The fantasy is over and you're hoping to enter that dream-like world again.

“Lass can cook. A shame she cooks fora bastard.” Soap says as he plops down on the couch. “Her weans are ‘dorable though.”

“Jabari can sure dish out a hit.” Kyle sat on the couch next to Soap and put his head in his lap, “that last tackle may have given me a bruise.”

John quietly listens to the guys as they talk about you. There's a thoughtful look on his face as he watches Simon carefully put the doll and its things on the armchair.

Simon looks at him just as he is taking off his mask. “Something on your mind?”

“She isn't leaving him anytime soon.” John goes into the kitchen.

“After he almost tried to kill her three days ago, she isn't leaving?” Kyle seems incredulous.

“It's not that simple.” Simon explains, “She's a foreigner with children, in a strange country, and she is a stay at home mum who depends on her husband's income. She can't leave unless she knows for sure her children will be safe.” Part of Simon feels ill with first hand knowledge of that reality.

It's quiet between the four of them, John speaks first, “We'll just have to help her.” He is ready thinking about how this will all play out if done right. If you're gonna be tied to anybody in a foreign country, it may as well be him and his boyfriends.

You don't know it yet, but the four of them are getting you out safely. And you're going to be safe in their arms.

Chapter 3

Tag list: @leahnicole1219 @uraeus56

[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. 😭

[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]

[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…

[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.