#and hi jujue :]

[doctorsiren]

Redrew that one AA official art but as JJK

[ryoun]

Well, I don't get involved with others' love lives. I'm hardly ever interested, but your (my) situation... My heart is suffering immensely. You're (I'm) the one with the issue. Well, what do you (I) think of Ms. Chae? You know how it is, when she's thirsty, you (I) want to get her water as soon as possible. What do you call it when you (I) only have eyes for her? What's that? Could you (I) have feelings for her?

[on-a-lucky-tide]

A soldier yearns for home as a pining pilot watches on.

cw: hints of a shitty ex, soldiers away for Christmas.

Nik hadn’t questioned the guitar that John had loaded onto the Black Hawk. He had transported more unusual things into the heart of eastern Europe, and would do so in the future at John's behest, no doubt. That hadn't stopped him inspecting it while John had been busy briefing the 141 and an attaché of mercenaries Laswell had sent to support.

The case was solid black plastic, chipped and dented, and littered with band stickers. Some had faded to white completely, while others had peeled in places. His eyes lingered over a few bands he'd never heard of - The Fratellis, The Wombats, The… Pigeon Detectives - and some he did. John had a rather broad musical palette.

The instrument itself was well loved too, with a chip out of the main body and more faded stickers across the back and front. The varnish had worn off the fretboard, but the strings were relatively fresh; Nik ran the pads of his fingers over them and they hummed out a warm note. The musical echo of John's smile, Nik thought fondly. He clipped the case closed and grabbed a ratchet strap from a shelf to keep it secure.

They made camp in an abandoned building in the suburbs outside Timișoara. Nik could think of worse places to spend Christmas than the City of Roses, but everyone else's spirits were low. It was Christmas Eve and every soldier huddled in that little building was yearning for hearth and home. Nik had spent so long without one that he had learned to find solace where he could, and if that was enjoying the philharmonic opera and a glass of Țuică in a beautiful Romanian city after the mission, then so be it.

As he walked the floors, he heard Gaz talking softly on his phone, Soap and Ghost too, with muted Scottish voices coming through from the otherside. The lieutenant had lost so much and the sergeant had taken to including him in his own family. One day they would make it official. Nik had already picked out his suit for the occasion.

The team had a limited amount of downtime before all boots hit the ground and they went dark, and every single one had searched out their loved ones in whatever way they could. Nik hadn't realised his own heart had done the same until he ended up outside John's door.

It was ajar and Nik could hear him moving around. He was about to knock when he caught sight of John sitting down in front of a laptop, and his hand hovered in midair. A hazy picture appeared on the screen, flickering once as John adjusted the antennae.

“C'n y’ear me, Carol?”

“Yeah, John. C'n ‘ear ya, la.”

“‘Ow ya keepin’?”

“Fine, it's… I wish y’were ‘ere. I'm… it's hard. Bizzies were round lookin’ fer ‘im, he's gone an' been a prick again.”

“I know, ‘m sorry, be home soon–ahh, there she is!”

Nik leaned in and saw a new face appear on the screen. Kimmy. She was a combination of John and his sister, without a single trade of her father, as far as Nik could tell; erratic brown hair that had fought a comb to the death, broad nose and distinguished forehead, and those blue eyes were clearly a Price birthright, because they gazed owlishly from the screen as she worked out who her mother was talking to and then squealed with delight.

“Uncle John! You commin’ fer scran? Ma go’ pigs in blankets from down The Asda an’.. an’ that spotted dick wi’ custard, an’ an’...”

John chuckled. “Naw, love. Gotta sort out some bad men, then ‘ll be ‘ome, but ‘m gonna miss dinner.”

“Again?”

“Yeah, love, ‘m sorry. Ma got the clobber ya asked fer though.”

“Yeah…”

She didn't look convinced and Nik's heart ached for her.

“Bu’ listen, figured we could still do ar sing along at least. You ready?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Eh, yeah! Wait, wait…”

She left the screen, returning moments later with what looked like an Action Man doll in a carrier vest, and plopped herself back down on her mother's lap.

“Ready!”

John tweaked the strings and played a few trial notes to test the tuning, before he opened up into the introduction. Nik had never heard him play before. Not in all the years they had known each other, and it felt strangely intimate now, John's full bicep sloped over the body of the guitar as he strummed through the chords, agile fingers moving across the frets. Nik wished he could see from the front. Imagined it so clearly in his mind’s eye.

And then John started singing and Nik had to place a hand on the wall to steady himself.

“I wanna thank the storm that brought the snow, and thanks to the string of lights that make it glow, but I wanna thank you, baby. You make it feel like Christmas.” His voice was rich, the auditory companion to the dark amber of the whiskey in his office, gravelly and a little rough from so many years smoking strong cigars, but he carried a note perfectly, even if he was keeping the volume low. Nik felt his heart trying to beat out of his chest, a little breathless as he drank in every word.

Despite the subtle crackle of the poor laptop speakers, Carol’s voice carried just as well, low and silky, as John played through her verse, his smile visible even at the sides through the perk of his round cheeks. “It barely took a breath to realise, we're gonna be a classic for all time. I wanna thank you, baby. You make it feel like Christmas.”

When they fell in together, Nik realised this wasn't a one-off. They harmonised perfectly, practised, John dropping his lower baritone to allow Carol's voice to carry over the top, and Kimmy’s delighted squeak made Nik grin so broadly his face hurt. “Sweet gingerbread made with molasses, my heart skipped and I reacted, can't believe that this is happenin’, like a present sent from God, sleigh bells singin’ Hallelujah, stars are shinin’ on us too, I wanna thank you, baby… you make it feel like Christmas.”

John leaned back, dipping his shoulders, chuckling as he played through another bar, before he carried the next verse with Carol humming and echoing beneath. “Thought I was done for, thought that love had died, but you came along, I swear you saved my life, and I wanna thank you, baby, ‘cause you make it feel like Christmas.”

It was as Carol squeezed Kimmy and pressed a kiss into her hair, the Action Man dancing across the screen in Kimmy's small hands, that Nik realised John was singing to his niece. Not some abstract lover provided by the song, but the little girl that beamed at him like he was a superhero, held by the sister he had raised himself. John had no wife, no children, but he did have a family. A family that loved him, missed him, looked at him like he hung the stars.

Nik dropped his eyes for a moment, but he couldn't look away for long. It was like staring into a bonfire in a snowstorm; the warmth on his skin warding off the bitter cold, but the intensity of the light hurting his eyes. He wanted it so ardently that his entire body ached.

“I never thought I'd find a love like this, but I found forever in that very first kiss, I wanna thank you, baby, you make it feel like Christmas.” Carol finished the lyrics and they harmonised through the last few bars as she kissed her daughter’s rosy cheeks, bouncing her on her lap as she giggled.

John struck the final note and rested his palm over the strings to bring their warm hum to an end.

“Ahh, ‘gain! Again!’

John chuckled, a sound even warmer than the one made by his guitar. “Naw, sweet’eart. S’time fer bed, or Santa ain't gonna visit."

“Yer Santa,” Kimmy said tartly. “An’ y’ain’ ‘ere.”

“Olrigh', smartarse, but if I ‘ave t’ get a flight back over ‘specially t’ rob yer presents back, I will.”

“You wouldn't."

He said nothing, but Nik could picture the raised eyebrow, the stern set of his eyes and lips. Kimmy pouted and slid from her mother's lap, looking mischievous and reluctant, but complying because she knew there was no room for negotiation. Before she disappeared, she leaned in and the camera caught the top of her head as she kissed the screen.

“Love ya, Uncle John. See soon.”

“Sleep tight, ya little beast.”

She scurried away and Carol looked back at her brother, her eyes, just as blue as his, brimmed with anxiety. “You come back safe, y’ear? Safe. No heroics, ya get the job done, ya get yer arse t’ my dinner table before New Years.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She kissed her fingers and they covered the camera briefly. “Love you, big brother.”

She took one final look at him and then the camera went black. He stared at the screen and then let out a long, rattling sigh, his face falling to his palm. Nik’s heart caught in his throat and he was frozen between leaving John to his sadness or offering comfort and revealing he'd been hovering there the whole time, invading his privacy.

He didn't need to worry for long. John's phone rang and he snatched it from the nearby table, sliding his guitar behind him to hang down his back. “Price,” he said, a stern bark. Back to business; John tidied away into the recesses of his heart, Captain Price assuming his place. John listened intently, hand on his hip. “Copy. ETA?” Another pause. “Fuck, that's too soon, we’re… yeah, Rog, we’ll be ready. We’ve got Nik with us.”

Nik smiled, stepping back. He had barely retreated four paces down the hall before his phone buzzed in his back pocket. It was John: “need you, 5 mins”.

Nik ducked into a nearby room to wait out the time. If he appeared too quickly, John would know he had been lingering nearby. He had no right to have invaded that private moment, and John deserved to believe it had been all his. A quiet moment to himself before the clusterfuck to come.

As Nik waited in the dark for the minutes to tick by, he added two new people to his silent, unwavering commitment to John Price. Nikolai would personally return John to Carol and Kimmy, their hero, safe and sound. They would sing together at Carol’s dinner table by New Years, Nik would make sure of it.

Nik left the room and knocked on John's door. When he entered, he was greeted by a lopsided smirk as John looked up from checking his M1911. “Time to get evil, Comrade.”

Nik grinned back. “It would be my pleasure.”

[panchulien]

I feel like you’ll appreciate this, courtesy of @karlachismylife

GOMZ? GOMZ????? A@JDJ9K);JGHFJ974SKJ&@???????? 🥺🥺🥺

Look at his lil face... Ohhhhhhhhh this is too cute my friend TOO CUTE 😭💗

[cartoonsforlife]

✨I'll put some glitter in your life, Black Hat!✨

[mushysquashythingamajig]

What was the purpose of Evan saying 'I don't have feelings for everyone i sleep with' other than to hit Tommy right where it hurts? For Tommy to feel like this really was a no strings attached one night stand.

He probably thinks that Buck wanted it to be a one night stand.

[prettypersuasion]

Izzy Stradlin and his RBF vibes.

(Makes me wanna find reasons to get him mad 😂)

[gojoest]

when you keep ignoring satoru’s attempts to confess to you (he’s your childhood friend), thinking it’s just another scheme of his to pull your leg and get on your nerves as he’s always done one way or another throughout the years, he goes and asks your parents if he can be your boyfriend

[ryoun]

BREWING LOVE (2024)

[blahblahbih]

I need a lando win

Like right now

For medical reasons

I’m not the type of person who takes people’s online takes seriously but it makes me so mad when I see people bashing my fav or saying hes not talented or “doesn’t have a winning mentality” (whoever made that statement mainstream I’m in your walls)

And I know

As a sports fan

The only thing that will shut people up

IS GOOD RESULTS

so I need a lando win in Imola

Because I don’t know how much patience I have left in the tank

[cartoonsforlife]

I feel that once again this year, it will be fucked... 😞

[mossterunderthebed]

absolutely chewing on the idea of an au where gojo was enchanted by this rando kid that he met on a mission one day who was super chill about the whole near-death experience thing and so he kinda keeps tabs on him and figures out where he lives and visits every once in a while to make sure he's like, still alive, and just hanging out because this one little piece of normality away from jujutsu and even his friends is... kinda nice.

and then when everything with suguru goes down it gets even nicer and he goes more often because this is the one place that he doesn't have to think about the tragedy of his best friend and how hE CouLDnT StOp iT and hes supposed to be the strongest but he cant save what he truly wants to so what does it even mean (iT DOeSnt MEaN ANytHiNg) but theres this little kid who's eyes crinkle when he sees him and has this bright sunflower smile and treats him to ice cream with his meagre allowance whenever gojo shows up unnanounced on his porch and never asks him questions he can't answer.

and slowly things... go on. and gojo gets busier and busier and the visits go from once a week to once a month to once a year to... (SUgURu'S dEaD SugURU's DEAD aND iTs HIm hE DiD iT ItS HiS FAuLt)

nothing.

and he doesn't forget but he thinks a kid like that is probably better off without him (he thinks he doesnt deserve the comfort of a friend when he killed the person that mattered most to him with his own two hands (WhOs ThE TRaiTOr nOW)) he's got so much potential after all and he's a hardworking kid and hopefully the random stashes of cash gojo stuffed into little nooks and crannies around the house a couple times will keep him and his gramps going for long enough that he can graduate at least and figure out how to get a job to support them both

(hes got students of his own now and he may be wringing the innocence from them like used dishrags may be lining them up in rows like pawns ready to lead the charge of reform hes been oh so carefully planning for since s- since he saw what happened to idealists in their society and had the fucking thought to wonder why that was but at least HES there to keep them from the worst of it the way yaga tried to be but just wasnt powerful enough to manage but he is HES powerful hes the strongest he can keep them safe he can give them time time a little more time give them the youth that was ripped away from him and shoko and there wont be another haibara he swears he swears he'll be good he'll keep them safe so please PLEASE-)

and the kid'll be fine.

so he doesn't think about his little friend (he does) he doesn't miss him (he does) he doesnt wish he could sit on a porch with blood dripping from his shirt his pants his shoes and have someone smile at him like its nothing (he will never let the kid see him that way) and hand him a blue popsicle because 'it matches your eyes onii-san!' (he does he does he does)

and then megumi goes on a mission and gojo stops paying attention he lets his guard down stupid stupid StUPiD (if they dIE its on HIS bloody hands well whats a little more scarlet anyway hes always liked the color ReD) and he gets there in time to save the day but he DOeSnT he fails again again again and theres the little kid he used to tease to poke to laugh at finally someone who never minded his edges, only firmed up and held him anyway and he doesn't know what to do he cant not again and the kid SWaLLoWed the FiNGeR and hes dead dead a dead man walking (aREnT tHeY aLL)

he brings him to school and he lets them tie him up in ropes and plaster him in seals because if they know he means anything to satoru theyll KiLL HIm and maybe then he'll stop holding back and he doesnt want to be known as the man who bathed in ReD to start another cycle of bloodshed and hate he really doesnt hes going to FIX things going to SAvE them for once yes hes going to SaVe someone

and he gives the kid his options (Yuuji Yuuji Itadori Yuuji his mind chants an ouroboric loop circling a small wondering 'oh so thats his name') because he knows which one he'll chose and he does and satoru could grin so he does could laugh so he does cause this kids always been just his kind of crazy

then he DiES and hes just another number another body another person satoru couldnt save couldnt reach (useless useless uSeLeSs weak weak WEaK) and hes going to ruin them all hes going to rip them apart tear them to shreds theyll bathe in their own blood satoru will choke them with their intestines and gouge out their eyes he'll force them to comprehend the weight of a thousand lives they cant bear to live the thousand lives theyve taken ruined stolen stolen from HIM they took what was his HEs GOiNg tO KiLL TheM-

and then he wakes up.

and satoru shouldve known better shouldve thought about it more but its not in his nature to worry (he cant afford it he'll crack under the weight of it and theres too many cracks already he'll lose himself he'll do whatever he has to so that they can be safe so that hes not a killer anymore even if it means rivers of red running over the surface of the earth dying the oceans (hes always liked the color ReD)) and so he hoards yuuji to himself for a while and it pleases hiim soothes the ripped open wounds inside him and he could keep him like this forever this kid this little friend of his Itadori Yuuji but that would kill him wouldnt it and the brightness of his little sunflower face so he doesnt because theres no fun to games once theyre over and the beauty of living things is in the vibrance of them the unexpectedness that only comes from living so he doesnt he doesnt he wont

and they fight and they fight and they train and they train and in the end its not enough because HE (useless weak sentimental foolish blind reckless arrogant SuGUrU) falls into a trap and he shouldve known shouldve KNOWN he knew better but his worthless heart always was the worst part of him not a god not a man (are you gojo satoru because youre the strongest or are you the strongest because youre gojo satoru)

and everything goes-

quiet.

[aniju-aura]

Some Spoopy Moth bois and lads

[panchulien]

Since I don't know where those pictures of "young Nolan" came from, my only (very logical) thought immediately was that he's sitting there completely naked. Possibly because Makarov (older Makarov?) told him to strip and get in, and who is Andrei to object.

But then my brain went to Makarov sneaking up from behind and shoving Nolan's head underwater as if trying to drown him only to pull him up at the last moment, then repeat, to make sure that Australian boy knows who owns his life, body and soul.

I myself would settle for stealing his beer and kissing his neck, but oh well.

(P.S. I sent you an ask about nettle soup like yesterday or smth and am not sure it came through, so if not, I can resend)

hitting me right where my weakness is, i see. no but this is so ... oughhghhhhh hhghgghh h😭😭

listen, makarov is usually gentle with him. he likes this boy and wants to possess him completely, and he can do that just fine with his sweet words, and then with his mouth and fingers in bed. his treatment is strict but still kind, makes him fall for him and slowly coax him into following his orders.

but he doesn't want to get too soft so Nolan would take it for granted. No, a little bit of fear is useful. Makarov wants him to feel safe around him, yes, but that fear should linger somewhere at the back of his mind. To remind him that Makarov still has control, that he can do whatever he wants to him at any given moment, that he owns him. so when Nolan suddenly finds himself in the pool with his head being repeatedly pushed under water, he fears he's going to die. Makarov is both the one putting him under and then pulling him above, going in between life and death, and that terrifies him, how his life simply lays at the hands of this one man.

After deciding it's enough, Makarov would pull him back above the water again with his hand harshly gripping his hair, and then give his lips a bruising kiss, taking his breath further away and making Nolan struggle.

[a-fuked-up-mess]

i would really like to have a teacher like gojo because of how skilled he is in his field. BUT, i will always be in fear whenever im near him because that guy... he's crazy. literally. on crack cocaine level crazy or something. crazy. mental. idk. so insane that it seems sane. (maybe it's me who's nuts with everything goin' on)

but it was really fun to see him teach yuji tho (if you can call that teaching) with yuji whining about not having cursed techniques like those from video games while gojo being all, it's fine from outside and worrying about sukuna's technique engraving on yuji from inside.

and obviously, can tell he cares about his students and jujutsu world a lot really.

now, scenes worth mentioning: starting strong with sukuna and yuji's fight/conversation, especially the punch yuji landed on sukuna's face lmao. the deeper pov of gojo from gojo and ichiji's conversation and then, yuji waking up behind shoko ieiri and their gasps haha. (wait, how did gojo see yuji waking up tho? with his blindfold and all (which im still very curious about btw)) the restaurant scene of geto and jogo. and oh, the falling practice with panda, not training but falling practice instead. (although... what was that about megumi's hand going through the stairs?) and last, the principal's dolls still creep me out but nonetheless.

[ryoun]

When I look at you, you remind me of the son my father wanted me to be.

🍻bonus🧡