#john thoughts

[johndoeslostpinky]

If Arthur had to choose between losing John or getting Parker back, John would like to believe Arthur would hesitate.

Between a broken piece of a god that stole his eyes and the man who pulled him back from bedrock, the choice was obvious. But, selfishly, John hoped it wouldn’t be easy.

[burdenedwithfaith]

Comfort - An In-Character Prose

The gathering is over.

I stride from the church as quickly as I am able.

I do not stop for their calls, I avoid their gaze and I avoid their touch.

I cannot take this.

They will be assured that I am simply unwell. Tired and in need of rest. But the sickness runs deeper than that.

It's within my soul. My heart. My conscience.

I can only imagine what they think.

It's all in my head. Just in my head.

I can't keep up the fight forever. It always comes back eventually.

The guilt, the shame, the regret.

I am tarnished. Unclean. Impure.

Yet I must continue on, for them. Presenting myself as though I am untouched.

Maybe they wouldn't care. Surely there are those among them have have done worst. I've heard their confessions.

Their shame consumes them, as though they're the only one who sins. But they all do. Their horrid secrets, all mundane.

Everyone sins.

But I'm supposed to be above that.

I'm only human. Humans have needs.

And I crave so much.

So much.

My actions harm no-one. Other than perhaps myself.

A self-inflicted punishment in the fulfilment of my desires.

My mind wonders, and my head swims. A thousand thoughts, clouding everything. Until it's all silenced by him.

It's all for him.

He holds me and I feel safe. I feel loved. A love I've not found elsewhere outside that of the Lord.

When others ran away, he ran towards me, giving my life new purpose.

He welcomes me home, seeing the worry on my face as he takes me in. He wipes tears from my eyes that I hadn't even realised I had cried.

He comforts be, hearing my fears and doubts which melt away to nothing as he comforts me.

He sees the layers beneath, my true self, touching my scars in ways that don't make me feel shame.

He lays with me. Again and again, and I drink him in. I need more.

It's the only time the thoughts stop.

Nothing else outside matters. There is only him.

It is our act of worship as the Lord moves between us.

I will return to my duties tomorrow, but tonight I am his.

[val-iron]

Thinking of the wife. Trapped in the 110° Porta John. Hungover. At least all the spiders boiled away in the heat

[tfatwsbarnes]

tower fics are so back baby

[thoughtkick]

Just remember that sometimes, the way you think about a person isnt the way they actually are.

John Green

[nikoisme]

s4

[gothghostiie]

price with erectile dysfunction. beats himself up simply because his love is too pretty to not get hard over, but being the wise old man he is he quickly finds a solution. what does he have three young men for, if not to help him out?

he regularly let's the boys have at you, fuck your cunt raw while he sits next to you and watches, petting your hair gently. and you? you only have eyes for him. no matter which of them fucks you, no matter what they do, you just have eyes for your husband. gazing up at him, gripping his arm, moaning his name, begging him to go harder, to make you cum.

and the boys loathe it. they're the ones fucking you, the ones making you feel good, why are you only looking at him? calling out for him when you cum, clutching his arm when they hit that spot that makes you see stars? they stumble over themselves to make you look at them, moan their names or at least acknowledge them, but you never do.

and yet they still keep coming back to do it over and over again.

[niinnyu]

Bro is onto nothing!!

[missladybirdhill]

RIP to a legend! I know a lot of people have mixed feelings about John Redcorn as a character, but I’ve always loved him, especially the complexity about his relationship with the Gribble family and his deeply terrible rock music. The writers took their time, but John Redcorn ended up as a three dimensional character, not just an indigenous stereotype or Nancy’s sexy Lothario, and I think Jonathan Joss’ performance helped facilitate that transition. Even though it seems like his acting career had slowed in the past few years, he was only 59 and it’s a tragedy for his end to come from such senseless violence. 

I’d also like to take a moment to remember Victor Aaron, the original voice actor for John Redcorn, who tragically lost his life in a car accident in 1996 at only 39 years old. He only had the opportunity to appear in two episodes, but the character was roughly based on him. I don’t really believe in curses, but it’s definitely a sad coincidence both our John Redcorns died so young and so suddenly.

[jackabbot]

Noah Wyle as John Truman Carter III ER (1994-2009) 5.02 • Split Second

[rosegolden13]

You had long since lost track of what Captain John Price was yelling in your face. Yes, you had almost gotten yourself killed on the latest mission. Did you regret it when you realized you’d have a limp for a bit? Yes. Did you regret it now, hearing that gruff accented voice directed at you? Hell no.

Even during debriefs, you could get lost in the gentle rumble of his voice. But this right now was something different. His words were biting, filled with an intensity that you normally only saw in the midst of missions- not on base and not directed at you.

You bit down on the soft plush of your bottom lip and a moment of silence settles over you. His icy blue eyes bore into yours. It’s like staring down a dog that’s about to snap its teeth at you again. Needing to fill the silence, you gave a quick response, “What was that last part, sir?” This’ll piss him off more but that’s what you want.

He stares at you a moment, processing your audacity before exploding once again. “Bloody fuckin’ hell, Sergeant! You don’t listen to me here, you don’t listen to me on the field. It’s a fuckin’ miracle you’ve survived this long. Pull that shit again, I dare ya, girl. What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice is a low growl as he steps closer, like he’s about to reach for the back of your neck and jostle some sense into you.

Your cheeks are flushed at this point. There’s no denying that or the subtle ache between your legs. You let out a slow breath, spotting movement in your peripheral and meeting Soap’s gaze. He seems to see right through you, a cocky smirk on his face. “She’s got the hots for ya, Cap’n. Tha’s wha’s wrong with her.”

Price stares at you a moment more, completely taken aback as he reassesses you. And then he turns around, muttering something about not getting paid enough. You stand there mortified before chasing off after Soap to berate him for outing you like that.

[burdenedwithfaith]

Confession - An in-character prose

The church was silent. The faintest of light filtered in through stained glass windows from the barely-risen sun which peeked over the horizon. The door to the chapel opened only a crack, and closed quickly again, locking with a soft click.

The hush of the church was broken by the sharp clicking of heels against the wooden floor, and the soft shuffling of cloth as he crossed the room towards the confession booth. Pausing for a moment, the took a deep breath before ducking into one of the side arches. He lightly placed a small pillow on the step beside the partition, slowly lowering himself down, wincing slightly in discomfort as he knelt down.

Specks of dust, stirred up from his breathing, caught the light, dancing before him as he hesitantly considered his words. "My Lord, I am lost..." He muttered unsurely, pressing his hands together in prayer. "I have not sinned. At least, not knowingly or actively. But I... Seek guidance." With a sigh, he motioned to cross himself, before placing his hands on his knees.

"I have been honest with myself, and with you, for many years now... and I have faced so much terror, overcome so many challenges... and yet I don't believe anything scares me as much as this." He lightly gripped at his cassock, playing the fabric around in his hands. "I wish I could be as honest with them as I am with you. I do my best to lead the flock, but I am but one man. There are many more in my position, or higher, who have twisted your words... and there are so many more who follow them."

Hanging his head, he closes his eyes, shifting a little on his knees. "If only they knew you as I do." He sighed, his brow furrowed. "I miss your presence within me. You don't know how hard it has been, how long I have once again craved your touch." He paused for a moment, giving a brief snort of mirth. "No... No, I'm sure you do. That's the point, isn't it? But sometimes I wish you never had. I had never felt so complete as when you were with me... and I never will again. That's something I have to live with."

His voice caught in his throat briefly as he hesitated, wondering whether to let the words cross his lips. "I know that this may sound blasphemous, but... I now understand how he fell. To feel your love. So great that he would forsake humanity to be with you." He quickly pressed his fingers to his lips, shaking his head with regret. "No. No, I'm sorry, forgive me, please. I never would, never. But I understand."

Silence fell once more for a long while, only disturbed by his breathing. A tear streamed down his face and his eyes opened once more. "Lord, forgive me... I have not been truthful." He clasped his hands, wringing them together. "In your absence, I have sought out another... Another soul to fill the void in my own. I..." Voice stuttering, he drew a sharp breath which broke into a sob. "I have broken my vows... I have lain with another." Looking up towards the grate before him, a slight hopeful smile played on the corners of his mouth. "But... He is another of your living vessels. So in a way, I am simply expressing my love for you through him."

Blinking at the light filtering in through the screen, he cast his eyes down once more, smile fading. "That's what he tells me, at least. I'm not sure whether I believe that. I wish that I could. But wishing hasn't gotten me anywhere so far." He sniffed, tears falling into his lap, soaking into the fabric of his robe. "I love him, my Lord. He makes me feel complete in ways I don't deserve. I cannot go on alone, I simply can't. I've tried. I shan't ask for penance because I know I cannot repent for this. It will happen again and all I can do is beg for your forgiveness." His breath heaved as he sobbed openly. "I am sorry. Truly I am, but I cannot stop. I will accept whatever punishment you see fit. I will serve you in every other way I can, but it will happen again. Just know that I will hate myself for it the entire time it does."

Slowly, his breathing began to even out between soft sobs and sniffles. He reached down for his cincture, lightly brushing the end against his eyes, rubbing his nose with the back of his hands. More light filtered through the grate as the sun rose outside, the stained glass leaving patterns on his face as he gazed upwards. "I'm sorry..." he muttered, voice barely audible. "I am sorry for these and my past sins... And... the sins that will follow."

He sat for a moment longer, before finally rising, groaning slightly at the stiffness in his knees as he stood up. He would take a few minutes to compose himself before turning to unlock the doors to the chapel, preparing for the day ahead.

His secrets, as they had always been, held only by himself.

[soapcloth]

CW: 18+ MDNI, ghoap x reader - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Can’t stop thinking about having to listen to the two bearish tenants in the apartment next door fucking nasty style whenever they’re home.

Every time you’ve passed them outside they’ve been nice enough- well, the one you’ve properly met is, but whenever he stops you to chat, you can’t help but vividly recall the way he fucks his big, brooding partner like a man starved each night.

Sadly, it’s hard to find the words to ask an imposing guy like him if he can go have sex in a hotel or something, unable to find a polite way to tell him that he sounds like an elk in heat when he fucks- so you don’t. The expectant glint in his eyes told you that even if you did manage to bring it up, it would only spur him on.

The distinct and audible shuffle of moving furniture one morning as you slip on your coat to head out for work makes you hopeful they’ve decided to relocate, and as your thoughts drift later throughout your tedious shift you find yourself praying for someone nice and quiet to occupy the vacant spot; your work-addled brain dreaming up possible new tenants and their imaginary backstories. It’s nice.

After a tiring day you’re more than ready to fall into the first peaceful sleep you’ve had in months, however, to your horror, you find out they’ve moved their bed into the room directly across from your own, Their headboard knocking into the thin wall behind you with a brutish vigour you had previously thought impossible for them to top.

Covering your ears with your pillow and rolling onto your side doesn’t do much to stop the low yearn pooling in your gut when your bed is being rhythmically shaken by their momentum- nor does the shocking sound of your name being spilled out messily in between their own.

[bi-writes]

okay...what about surprise pregnancy but you aren't sure whose it is? (18+, ghoap x f!reader babytrap)

you come crying to simon, so embarrassed when you see johnny there, too. they coax you to sit down, standing side by side, and you explain through sputters and soft tears that you're pregnant, and you're so sorry, you're even more sorry because you're not sure if it's johnny's baby or simon's baby.

you didn't cheat, you never put labels on anything, you thought you were just having fun, but now they're finding out at the same time that you were sleeping around, and you were totally irresponsible--

you freeze, hiccuping when you notice that simon and johnny aren't even looking at you anymore. simon has a gloved hand in johnny's hair, wrapping those thick fingers into his mohawk and pulling until johnny's neck snaps back, and he's baring his throat to simon.

"mmm..." simon growls a little, and your lip trembles when simon hikes his mask up to lick over johnny's cheek before kissing him wet and sloppy. "good boy. olways doin' as y'r told..."

you squeeze your legs together when simon cups your jaw, drawing you closer. he fits a thumb into your mouth to soothe you, and johnny coos as he brushes your hair out of your eyes. it was a team effort, after all, no need to fret.

don't you know it takes two to make a baby?

[thoughtkick]

Just be fucking honest about how you feel about people while you’re alive.

John Mayer

[perfectquote]

It’s so hard to leave - until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world.

John Green // Paper Towns