#and they're all doing that job Beautifully

[theheightofdishonor]

GL Recs Masterlist

I've watched a couple hundred gls now and so I thought i'd put it to good use and help other people find some. There's not enough gl rec lists anyway

First things first, I'll like to direct you to https://mydramalist.com/list/1xrpwdW3 which is a gl rec list on mdl with more than 200+ titles + links. It's an EXCELLENT resource, kept up to date and even tracks upcoming titles.

Now for stuff that I've watched and thought are decent. I'll link all of these to their mdl page and the links to watch the show can usually be found in the comments. If you're new to gl, be warned that a lot of these are pretty short, ranging from 1-30 minutes.

1 in 10,000 (2018) Korea. This is a soulmates piece told in 3 parts following two girls through different parts of their lives. I think this got more confusing as it went on but I really liked Act I and I think it's worth watching. It's beautiful and angsty and a bit artsy. I'm pretty sure it has a happy ending but don't quote me on that.

Afraid of (2019) Korea. A short film about a girl struggling with her sexuality. Yeah, I know, there's a THOUSAND of these but I do like this one. It's beautifully shot and there's a lot of heart.

Am I the only one with butterflies? (2018) Korea. A girl blogs about falling in love with the manager at her new job. I like part ii better than part one but it's just cute and the pining is very similar to het kdramas.

Anonymous high school girl (2022) Korea. A low stakes love triangle. Good chemistry, low budget, awful kisses.

The Beauty of the Law (2023) China- If you're not familar with chinese gls, I think it's certainly something to get used to. This is like in the top 1% of the category. It's an ad for Adolph Shampoo and i'm going to let you know that they're going to appear often on this list because they make excellent gls. It's a historical about a female unlicensed lawyer trying to help a woman escape her abusive marriage. Makes great points about gender imbalances and women's historical lack of legal rights in China. (f you like this one, Sheng Wei, one of the actresses stars in 50%+ of all chinese gls, check her out)

Beguine (2018) Thailand - It's if the school dancing scene in My School President was a 30 minute sequence with two girls. No plot but adorable.

Cat in the eastern palace (2020) China - Watch this just to have the surreal experience of seeing like 3 whole cdrama arcs which normally take 20ish eps executed in a 7 minute timeframe. Also because it stars laoji who's in the other 50% of chinese gls. As for plot, it's about a cat spirit and a girl pretending to be the crown prince.

Clasper (2021) Thailand - And they were roommates! I liked the production, the dialogue and the acting was pretty decent.

Couple of Mirrors*** (2021) China- Wait to watch this because it will ruin you for everything else. This is like typical thai bl length, like 12 45~min episodes. It's a historical mystery about a wealthy woman who finds out about her husband's affair with her bff and the photographer she enlists to help her. If you watch one thing out of China, watch this.

Dear My Girlfriend (2021) Korea - A group project ft love triangle. It´s pretty classic. A girl starts dating someone who likes her only to realize she might instead be in love with her best friend. The editing is cute. It's a touch angsty as love triangles are and pretty well done.

Dear Uranus (2021) Taiwan. Another school love triangle. Does feature an adorkable female character, you know a bit awkward, a bit cutesy, if you hate this archetype, ignore this one. Personally I think the chemistry for the lead couple was lacking (genuinely shocking considering taiwan tends to be great at this) but both the love interests are hot and I am not immune to hot women

The Demonic lord and the virtuous cultivator (2021) China - Avoid this if you don't like toxic yuri. I personally love it so this is 10/10 for me. Orphan gets taken in by a benevolent benefactor who turns out to be her parents' killer and eventually....you know what go watch it.

Encore Martha (2021) Taiwan. One of the few gls about older women. A tomboy reunites with her first love. This one's only available on gagaoolala so you'll either need a subscription or sometimes they promote it for free. If you can find it though, it's worth a watch.

Family Plan (2016) Korea. This is a bit of an odd one to describe. The first half is two high school girls who are dating. And then the second half is their relationship as adults where they marry guys and use it to have a kid that they raise as theirs. I liked how this examined how two gay people would go about their relationship in in a world where they can't freely be with each other.

Favorite Girl (2022) Thailand. Very standard plot about a girl suffering from a breakup and her roommate but something about it stuck out to me.

Five steps to accept farewell (2016) Korea. Warning for unhappy ending. This is all pure angst, a 9 minute snapshot into a breakup. I like how it's done and the messiness of the situation.

Fragrance of the first flower (2021) Taiwan. A beautifully shot, beautifully acted, slightly too short show about two ex-lovers reuniting ft. all the angst about living in a homophobic society. It stayed in my head for weeks after I first watched it.

Girls Blood** (2014) Japan. A movie about 4 "girls" in an underground fight club. warnings for rape, trauma, domestic assault. One of the main characters is a trans man. There are sex scenes. It's very queer and I highly recommend.

Girls Love** (2016) China. Pre-censorship China had some very wonderful queer work and one of them was this movie It's about a girl who falls in love with her hot butch roommate ft all the tropes AND we get to see them function in a relationship instead of the movie ending when they get together. Warning for both characters being forcibly outed at the end. (nothing bad really happens to them after though). Also do NOT watch the sequel. If you go to mdl, everyone else will also tell you not to watch the sequel and I foolishly did not listen to those people because I liked these girls so much and I suffered for my mistake.

The Girls on Rela (2016) China. It's an anthology of short, I wouldn't say stories, more like moments, sponsored by a lesbian dating app. Each one's really short but the acting and scripts are all pretty good.

The Girls on Rela Season 2** (2016) China. This is sponsored by the same company but it's a totally different format. It's one long show about two girls cohabiting. Pretty well executed if a bit slow.

Graduation, Present + Propose (2021) Korea. A short about a high school girl giving a graduation present to her crush. What it does it does well. It's pretty.

The Handmaiden (2016) Korea. Historical set movie about a conman and thief girl who plot to steal a heiress’s fortune. I make it sound boring but that's only because it's a pretty popular movie and everything to be said about it has already been said.

Happy to have you here (2021) Thailand. Two friends have a sleepover and figure out their feelings. This is definitely in the top 20% for this trope, even though they rushed just a tad into the kiss.

Hello, spring is coming (2019) Korea. I'll let you read the synopsis for this one. What you need to know is that it's pretty, well acted, has good chemistry and is as brightly colored as a lollipop. It's a bit disorienting, parts of it doesn't make a lot of sense but it's a fun time.

I broke up because of you (2023) Korea- A bartender and their client catches feelings for each other. The dynamic is nice, the kiss less so but it can be forgiven.

I’m her weapon (2022) China- It's kinky, it's angsty, it's 3 minutes long and still fits in a separation arc. I would pay money for an extended version.

Kanojo no Kuchidzuke Kansensuru Libido (2022) Japan - two girls fall in love in a hospital. I like the tone of this one.

The L Bang** (2015) China- Another Rela production. It's a 4 episode comedy about a bunch of lesbians + (1) gay man who live in the same apartment complex. It's got queer friendship, queer acceptance and queer love. It's just wonderful. It feels like 2000s American sitcoms but queer and Chinese.

Led Astray by Love (2022) China- Fairly long for a cgl. A girl gets transported to a manhwa and falls in love with the ruler. Sunshine/grumpy. This baby is 52 minutes long and covers like the same amount of plot as word of honor does in 30 something episodes.

Legend of Yunze (2021) China - A human and a half demon vanquish demons from a village. It has a second season and a special that I haven't watched yet.

The Lost World** [Xia Ye Zhi Dao Feng De Tian] (2023) China - After watching as much cgl as I have, I was shocked to see Laoji in a modern piece. This is a college setting running-into-a-childhood-friend trope. The pacing and chemistry are both pretty good. It's one of my favorites from her.

Love in the Tinder Age** (2019) Korea- A black comedy about a bullied lesbian's failed suicide attempt ft psychics, ghosts and a teacher/student relationship. It's not really a gl because the main character doesn't get a romance BUT it's really fun so you should watch it anyway.

Love of Secret** (2022) Thailand- More of a slice of life than a love story but it's cute and fluffy and the main character very much is in a relationship. The actual plot is about a med student who's hiding both her relationship with her best friend and her dreams to be an idol. I found it positively charming.

Lover’s Concerto** (2002) Korea- Calling this a gl is a stretch. It's more just queer? The girls were most likely in love but they don't end up together and the movie itself doesn't really have a happy ending. I did find it beautiful though.

Mayfly angel (2024) Korea- Classic discovers-feelings-for-bestie-after-a-breakup plot. Warning that this is angsty and they don't end up together. But I found it realistic and I liked that they felt like two real people. Take that how you will.

Miss shen and the woman warlord (2023) China- a woman cross-dresses as another young woman's fiance and they fall in love. Despite how i describe it, there's a decent amount of plot and some political commentary.

More or less than 75 celsius (2019) Korea- A tea master and her supervisor fall in love. It's sparse and short but cute.

My Dear (2021) Thailand. A drunk girl confesses to her friend and luckily for her, it's mutual. It's 5 minutes long but it uses its time well and the acting is nice. It feels a bit like gmmtv's confessions. If you like it, the production company ShakeShoulder makes TONS of gl shorts and i'd recommend checking them out.

No distance left to run  (2022) Hong Kong. a 15 minute short film about how fame causes issues in a pop star's relationship. Unhappy ending. The song's a bop though and it's well done.

Nü er hong** (2023) China. I forgot to mention but this one, the legend of yunze and the lost world are all produced by the same studio. They do a lot of fairly long chinese gls. The story is about these two beings from an alien world who crash land on earth and are hunted. One is a healer and the other is a killer, they're in love, the killer goes insane so her lover kills her. Unbeknownst to them, they're immortal so the killer wakes up with no memories 200 years later. The pacing is better than some of their earlier stuff but it's not quite perfect here yet. It is one of my favorites from the studio though and it ends happily.

Our relationship ended before it began (2022) Korea. A barista falls in love with her manager at a coffee shop ft gender roles, miscommunication and the classic "cool one picks on the nice one to show affection" trope.

Pyramid Game** (2024) Korea. This is more gl adjacent like Devil Judge and Beyond Evil. There is a secondary gl couple that's more explicitly canon though. If you've watched other kdramas about school bullying, this is pretty similar except it's an all-girls school and everyone is so gay. It's got so much heart and is one of my favorite shows of the year.

Really, Lily? (2019) Korea. A 6 minute short about two girls who visit a cafe and beats up two men who were making homophobic remarks about them. It's surprisingly comedic and the coloring is bright to match. Features a pretty decent kiss. Watching it, I wished it was longer but what's there is still good.

Secret of us (2024) Thailand. The only longform thai gl that i've liked enough to finish. It's about an idol who comes back to win over her doctor ex. It falters from ep 6 onwards but until then, the show is really good at showing the emotional thought processes of the characters and the way they construct the story is compelling, even though I don't even like second chance romances.

Shackles (2023) China. Another one from the Chinese shampoo ad. The pairing itself is not my favorite but it's so cool that this is basically a warning against nuclear pollution AND features chinese mythology that's used in the brand's marketing. Like a 3 in 1. It's so interesting.

She Makes My heart flutter (2022) Korea. Baby lesbian finds out her aunt runs a lesbian bar and starts working there. It's so goddamn cute but it has this weird relationship with homophobia where everyone in the show is apparently 100% ok with queerness but a lot of the aunt's actions is so driven by her being a queer person in an unaccepting society. A bit like how Moonlight Chicken deals with Jin and Li Ming's different attitudes towards being queer except they don't dwell on why the aunt is the way she is or what she's been through. Anyways, it's worth a watch.

Sleep with me (2022) Philippines. A 6 episode series about two girls who are disabled in different ways fall in love. One of them can only sleep during the day and the other is in a wheelchair and the show does a pretty decent job at showing how these disabilities affect their lives and their relationship

Soshite, Yuriko wa Hitori ni Natta** (2020) Japan. If you follow me, you may have seen me talk about this show earlier this year because I found it and promptly fell in love. It's not quite gl but Mizuki's actions are all driven by the fact that she's in love with Yuriko. It's queerer than you would expect, less queer than you might want. It's a supernatural-adjacent school horror about a girl who's new school has a weird thing where every year, a girl named Yuriko becomes "Yuriko sama" and rules the school while everyone else in that year with the same name mysteriously dies. Yuriko's best friend Mizuki plots to make the sweet innocent Yuriko the newest Yuriko-sama to save her life. It's weird, there's plot holes everywhere by the end, it definitely vilifies it's gays and the ending is weak but it's such a compelling watch.

Stand-in love (2023) Philippines. 2 best friends have a ‘stand in’ relationship where the straight one helps the lesbian one learn how to court someone but they end up falling in love with each other. Like 20 min long and I love it.

Ti Shen** [The substitute] (2017) Taiwan. The mdl synopsis can describe the plot better than I can but it's a romance between an idol and a normal girl that's split into two parts. The first half is about them meeting in high school, the second is when they reunite later on a movie set where one of them is the other's stunt double. I think the first part could've been a bit longer but it's a great movie.

Transit Girls (2015) Japan. Stepsisters. Happy ending though and it's fairly long. I liked this mostly because I like Japan's moody stuff. I also liked how they handled the male love interest.

Truth or Dare (2022) Korea. A 10 minute short about two girls who like each other playing truth or dare. It does a great job at building tension and revealing things without saying it.

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna** (2022) Japan. A woman who loves to cook comes to an arrangement with her neighbor who loves to eat. Japan does food-centered dramas better than everyone else and this is no exception. The romance itself is slow and you watch how their dynamic changes through this and the season two that came out this year.

The Twelve flower gods: Camelia (2020) China. A xianxia romance about a girl falling in love with a flower but it's a minute twenty so I promise you're not watching for the plot. You're watching to witness the ridiculous amount of innuendos that they manage to fit in under two minutes.

Twin souls of destiny (2023) China. Xianxia romance between two elves, one who is made from the memories of the other's past life. I want someone else to watch this so we can discuss whether or not this is selfcest. The color combination is interesting because I very rarely see lovers in red and purple. The time travel is confusing but it's a good time and laoji is in it.

Until Rainbow Dawn** (2018) Japan. Movie about two deaf girls falling in love ft homophobic parents. The director is a deaf lesbian herself so the movie does a wonderful job in how it depicts deafness and their relationship. It's really well done

When the light pours (2022) Korea. A girl's boyfriend wants her to sing him a song so she enrolls in guitar lessons and ends up falling in love with her teacher. The girls don't get together and I really wish they had! So if you watch this, don't watch the ending and pretend that they did end up together.

[rindomness]

you know what idk if any tone shift is gonna get me quite like the first 30 or so minutes of promare. masterfully done

[crafteeauthor]

Recently seen clips of Joshua Colley in other roles and man does it make the bird-isms he gives Monty more prominent. Swiveling his head a bit to the side to talk and tucking his hands behind his back like he's folding his wings and everything. The nervous bouncy bird vibes are artisan made

[willows-peak]

*･ﾟ✧ How the JJK characters show their love for u (love languages)

tags: multi character x reader, gn! reader, fluff, just overwhelming amts of fluff

word count: 1.3k

a/n: im starting off with some fluff, bc they all deserve some soft loving <3

⋆｡˚ ♡ PHYSICAL TOUCH: light squeezes of your hand, hugs from behind, leaning on your shoulder on the train, holding your wrist while you walk together, no matter what their hands are on you. they just love you too much to keep away from you, can you blame them? the feeling of you against their skin makes them feel happier than they could ever expect, even when they're coming across as clingy sometimes.

nobara will tug on your sleeve until you oblige and follow her around the mall, your hand either taken by your girlfriend's or the brightly colored shopping bags she'd acquired over your trip. some for her, some for you, because she was just dying to put you in some of the shirts she'd seen around the mall. and she's smile and kiss your cheek when you went with her requests with no fuss

yuuji will take no liberties in picking you up at any point. greeting you? you're up in the air before you can say 'hello'. god help you if you even mention being tired, because he will carry you in his arms without a moments hesitation, holding you close to his chest and claiming he can't in good conscious let you walk while tired! as your boyfriend, its his job to take care of you

gojo will never ever hesitate to embarrass you with how doting he can get. dramatically gasping whenever he sees you in his kitchen making a snack and rushing over to you, pressing kiss after kiss to your face and squeezing you while praising the heavens he's able to see you today, ignoring how you turned your face away and whined at him to lay off

⋆｡˚ ♡ WORDS OF AFFIRMATION: with someone like you, how do you expect them to keep their mouth shut? they can never get enough of the way you blush or laugh at their compliments, or their daily vows of love. "you're a great cook, dear." if you made them a meal, or fawning over how great you look today, despite you being dressed in loose pajamas with a messy bedhead. they need you to always know how in love they are, constantly.

sukuna, surprisingly, can offer quite a few bits of praise to you through the day. while you may have to pause and figure out his wording to actually receive a compliment at times, that doesn't change how he'll always show his approval of you in his own way. he never fails to acknowledge your effort in something, patting your shoulder and congratulating you on whatever you did.

nanami is always straight to the point when he speaks, wasting no extra time to dance around a subject and often being more blunt than necessary with his words. and that carries over to how he loves you, of course. kissing the temple of your head, murmuring about how lucky he is to be with you, brushing hair out of your face while you lean in for a proper kiss.

⋆｡˚ ♡ GIFT GIVING: plastic charms, figurines, hair clips, clothes, jewelry, stuffies, flowers, games, they're never ending. you're never not on their mind, so it's really impossible for them to be out and about without seeing some beautiful roses in a shop window and not hesitate at all with buying it for you. a single off handed comment about how you're a fan of something, and suddenly your arms are full of different kinds of merch. you've had to reorganize your room countless times to fit everything they've gotten you in there, and you're starting to look like a hoarder. but, it makes them happy, so what choice do you have?

getou could plant acres of flower fields with how much roses he'd gotten you. you can't even remember when you'd told him your favorite flower, the innocent seeming question still forcing you to fill up vase after vase of beautifully picked red roses. the amount of times getou had shown up to your door, hands behind his back with a smile plastered over his face at your weary sigh. "what did you get now, sugu..." "i don't have a clue what you mean, my love."

maki will take the extra step and take you with her when she gets a gift idea, finding the way you'd fret over her funds as she casually bought you yet another scarf she caught you eyeing much cuter than surprising you with it. this happens so often that she's caught you snapping your head forwards when letting your eye linger on something too long, making her laugh and peck your cheek before snatching it up before you could notice.

⋆｡˚ ♡ QUALITY TIME: quiet nights, spent curled up next to each other simply enjoying the others presence. sitting next to you while you play your favorite game, throwing occasional questions at you and smiling when you eagerly answer them. sometimes they get sheepish at how in love they are, that you simply being there makes them feel happier than anything. but when you're cozied up next to them, snoring softly against their chest, they can't seem to care too much about anything else

megumi is the king of silent time together, claims it helps him study and plan for missions when nothing is happening around him. and while that's true, often times he will replace 'feeling lonely and wanting your company' with 'studying for an exam'. he's sure you aren't aware of what he truly means when he asks to come over though, even when he shows up with no textbooks or notes to 'study from', and immediately goes to cuddle up against you when you usher him inside your room.

choso is..very clingy lol. always following behind you wherever you go, sitting next to you with a soft smile even as you aimlessly scroll through your phone. he's so silent that you've forgotten his presence entirely a few times, yelping when you hear a low sigh or a shuffle of his hand against your own. you felt a little exposed at first, always being under surveillance by him, but you adjusted pretty quickly and accepted his way of affection.

⋆｡˚ ♡ ACTS OF SERVICE: call it a hero complex, but they just adore being your knight in shining armor. holding the door open for you, finishing an assignment for you after learning how stressed you've been recently, wrapping their coat around you when it gets too chilly out, making your favorite meal just because they could. why should you have to do things when they're right there?

toji, despite having cast away his family name, was still raised by a traditional family. which meant he'd assigned himself to any hard work that needed to be done. plumbing, cleaning, repairing of any kind, he was on it. at first he did it out of habit, used to being forced to pick up any chore that others didn't feel like doing. but over time, the way you'd thank him and hug him tight when he did something for you made his heart melt. nowadays, he almost gets giddy when he hears your frustrated mumbling from across the room, happy to help you yet again with whatever you needed.

yuuta is really the sweetest thing... he's always ready to help you out, no matter how small the issue is. the mornings are his favorite, though, watching your chest rise and fall peacefully while sunlight slowly made its way across your sleeping form. he loves being able to tidy up your room and get breakfast ready for you while you peacefully sleep the sunrise away. he'd turn his head towards the hall as he heard your footsteps shuffle closer to him, a blanket draped over your sleepy figure as you greeted him.

inumaki, even with your reassurance, still feels guilty at times for not being able to talk with you how you're used to. deciphering rice ball ingredients in response to you asking when his is birthday isn't the simplest task, unfortunately. so, he always makes sure to show his love through simple tasks he can do for you. keeping extra snacks in his bag for when you get hungry during class, handing you his umbrella if he notices the sky beginning to dribble on your way home, even when you insist he keep it. he doesn't mind the rain if it's with you.

[banj0possum]

All You Need

Yandere! Bodyguard x Gn Reader

CW: obsessive behavior, minor stalking

i changed his name, his old name was doo doo, it was but a trick of the light

IM CHANGING HIS NAME AGAI-

♠️ Never before would you have ever considered hiring a bodyguard, you could defend yourself on your own just fine, but with all your rival manufacturers trying to get you out of the competition with assassinations and attempted kidnappings, you had no choice.

♠️ Feelings were a very rare thing for Baron, and he was fine with it, after all, emotions weren't a very helpful thing to have when your job is to kill people. There was no room for soft, sappy things like that when you lived in his side of the city.

♠️ But his cold and empty demeanor was somehow broken through the moment he saw you.

♠️ The smile you had on your face pierced his heart like cupid's arrow, it was like love at first sight for him.

♠️ He was just getting some rest after a particularly stressful job at a nearby bar when he heard the sweetest laughter from across the room.

♠️ There you were, the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes upon. You were sitting with some other people, talking and drinking together like all the other patrons, but you stood out to him like a precious gem amongst stone.

♠️ It seemed as if the world slowed down when your eyes briefly met his.

♠️ He would now frequent that bar, learning what you like to order, when you get there and who you'd be with.

♠️ He's never talked to you, or even interacted with you in any way, but the feelings he had for you couldn't be denied. You're just too adorable!!

♠️ Through his connections, he found out you were a big name in weapons design. Unique and beautifully deadly instruments of death were created by your hands. Is it weird he finds that hot?

♠️ He'd start off making anonymous orders for weapons to you, it was normal to get one that was unnamed, so you thought nothing of it.

♠️ When he got his order, an intricately designed dagger, he couldn't bring himself to use it on anyone. This is a gift from his kind and talented darling! He couldn't just stab it into someone's chest like any other knife!

♠️ Yes, he has a little shrine of you.

♠️ When he heard you were hiring for a bodyguard, he was ecstatic! Finally, he can be with you for real! He had to stop himself from giggling like a little girl in front of his colleagues.

♠️ He applied for the job and immediately was given instructions to your address, he read it over and over again until it was engraved into his mind.

♠️ "Tomorrow, 5pm. 93 Lebberside Ave. Door with the hummingbird symbol on it in the alley. Do not be late."

♠️ When he arrived at the location, his heart was pounding under his cold expression. He knocked on the door and heard a muffled crash from inside with a small "Shit!" before the sound of multiple clicks of locks followed.

♠️ You pulled the door open and looked up at the man with dark eyes.

♠️ "Are you the applicant?"

♠️ "Y-yes.." God he stuttered, he hoped you couldn't see his flushed face.

♠️ "Good, come in." You pulled him in and swiftly locked the door again.

♠️ He looks around and it looked like a normal home, albeit a little cluttered. Boxes of files and paper were almost everywhere with takeout boxes and noodle cups on every surface of the house. Looks like you've been piled with work for a long time, poor thing, you really need him to take care of you don't you?

♠️ He sits down on the couch across from the little bean bag you were sitting on while reading a file you grabbed from the coffee table, god you're adorable..

♠️ "So you're..?"

♠️ "Baron..Baron Valencia.."

♠️ "Baron..."

♠️ Oh god say his name again please plea-

♠️ "Hm..your file's pretty good..and you don't have any recent dealings with my competitors? Interesting, looks like you have a good eye for quality weaponry huh?" You smile at his file before looking at him with fox eyes. The things he'd let you do to him...

♠️ "I just took a liking to your model's, they're more convenient and useful than others.." He says with a straight face.

♠️ You chuckle and ask him a few more questions before eventually moving on to small talk, he relished in the time you two spent together laughing at past experiences and jokes, it was like he's known you forever, it took every muscle in his body just to stop himself from smiling too much.

♠️ Eventually, you got up and patted his lap, putting down the file. "Well, Mr. Valencia, you're hired!" You say with a smile, the same smile that melted his heart the first time he saw you.

♠️ "Really?! I-I mean- thank you..Boss.."

♠️ He regains his calm composure after letting his voice go a little too high for his liking, any embarrassment he would've had in that situation was replaced with a warm, tingly feeling as you placed a hand on his shoulder, giggling.

♠️ After that, he'd watch you like a hawk, always being by your side ready to protect you, even if you’re just at home. You never know when someone will try to hurt you!

♠️ He'd be looming over you, giving any poor soul trying to talk to you a death stare until you introduced them as friends of yours, he's a giant guard dog basically.

♠️ His stoic expression would persist even when you make small talk with him all the time so casually. It was like he wasn't even your bodyguard sometimes, just a friend you were hanging out with.

♠️ He wasn't all intimidating and cold, he was also very concerned for your health...all the time, and can you blame him? You've been living off of takeout and instant noodles for months!

♠️ "Boss, I think you should eat a proper dinner and not fastfood again, I'll cook for you."

♠️ "Your work can wait, Boss. I'm sure your client can wait another day, please, you look tired."

♠️ It's all part of being your bodyguard! He has to keep you safe and healthy! He'd be happy to move in so he can protect you 24/7 if you'd let him.

♠️ He'd offer to help you clean your living space a little too, since you're so busy and all with work, he might as well make life easier for you. You said yes to get him to stop pestering you about it and when you came back to the living room, all the clutter and empty food containers were gone..as well as a few of your clothes..I guess he put them away as well, how nice of him.

♠️ If you confront him about this, he'd deny it all flushed in between stutters.

♠️ "Well Baron, it sounds to me like you want to be my househusband more than a bodyguard with all your offers for looking after me and such."

♠️ "Wh- Me? N-no! I'd never! I-I mean unless you'd want that..Not that I'm saying I want to! But well uhm- I-if you uh..uhm..I'll leave you alone to work..."

♠️ On days off a.k.a. days you forced him to take a break from taking care of you to get a bit of breathing space for yourself, he'd stalk your social medias or flat out stalk you. A true bodyguard never stops protecting their boss! He just wants to watch over you!

♠️ On the rare occasions that you're too deep in work and not getting a blink of sleep, he'd use his strong arms to pull you into bed and force you to rest. It wasn't long before he heard you softly snoring in his arms, you were exhausted from long days of working and delivering orders and evading taxes and such, no wonder you went out like a light.

♠️ He looked down at you as he sighed lovingly, placing a kiss on your head, whispering a soft "Goodnight, cariño.." Before drifting off to sleep himself.

♠️ "..Goodnight Baron.."

♠️ "B-Boss! Y-you heard that?!"

[10underoot2]

I thought I would have so much to say about the car accident scene. And while I could go on for a while on why it's everything I've ever wanted from a scene of this nature and why it's a beautifully acted cinematic piece, I do think the beauty of the scene lies so much in silence. Their expressions are do a fantastic job to express their emotional state so I'm just gonna call attention to a few things I won't get over anytime soon.

Imagine being Haein and seeing your husband wrecking a car window in hysteria. Imagine seeing disbelief on his face when he sees you and walks towards you. Imagine watching him unable to breathe properly (sound on and high for this scene). Imagine seeing life flood into him as soon as you touch him.

Jiwon plays such an important part here. Because Haein has NEVER seen Hyunwoo like this. He's a pretty calm nice, non-violent guy. She knows him to like mostly everyone and he rarely gets angry - he's pretty composed. But then what is this look of complete shattered pain on his face? With a mix of disbelief, bearing the heaviest heart on the planet? He's unrecognisable to her. She can't make sense of any of his actions. She's in utter shock hearing how hardly any air is making it's way into his lungs.

In his eyes is a look of crazed wilderness just tamed. He's out of his sense. Completely lost in the events that have just passed. Not believing that he can breathe. That it's okay. All is well in the world for now. She's unscathed.

'What's going on? Calm down.'

The way she asks him to calm down - touching his face - cause she just doesn't know what in the world could send him in such a frenzy to forget himself. Her asking him to calm down here is everything to me. She's really just saying I'm here okay. Calm down. Calm down, you can breathe. Tell me what happened and I can fix it.

'Even still, Are you crazy? How could you break the window with your bare hands? Look at this!'

I know it probably didn't register to him at that point. But he's hearing her being worried for him again when he thought her lost forever. Wouldn't that sound like music to his ears.

And her...god she's so worried for him. She's never seen him like this. She doesn't know what happened to make him like this. One she sees his absolutely broken bloody hand. Two she's seeing her husband absolutely crushed. She's so confused.

That is until his words hit her like a truck. I think she had an idea that he did it to save her but she didn't know he did it because he thought her dead. And that makes all the difference for her.

Also I thought it was very interesting to keep showing his injured hand clenching. I think it was a way to show how the physical pain still didn't hold a candle to his emotional turmoil. He CLENCHES that broken hand multiple times. I can't even begin to think when he actively registered the pain.

The need for constant touch to reaffirm that she indeed is there. The sitting down. The head on her hand. The heavy breathing. *Chef's kiss*

I love women comforting the man they love when he's broken. Gah! That hand on his face and hug. Her embracing him. Letting him cry all he wants. Giving him the reaffirmation he needs by placing her self as close to him as possible. Trying to tame and override his sense. The hand on the nape of his neck. The hand caressing his hair lovingly. And good god, the RINGS.

Also notice his breathing on her shoulder. He's trying to calm himself. Telling himself she's here. Hearing her say it's alright. Everything will be alright.

I'm sure they stay like this until the ambulance comes and asks them if they're hurt. Only then Haein must've gently tore him apart from her (hand on his face again ofcourse) and convinced/guided him to finally get treatment. I can just Imagine Hyunwoo completely dishevelled going, 'Huh *sniffs*......oh.......Right, my hand' and that's when the pain hits him.

Special mention to the hospital conversation when Haein asks him 'Will you sob like this if I die?' and he says truthfully, bashfully, embarrassed but without missing a beat 'Ofcourse.' He's hiding behind nothing. He truly meant to give up on himself after her.

For me this is also the night Haein starts to write her diary. Hyunwoo must've been sound asleep, amped up on painkillers and she must've had so much time to sit and admire him and write.

Gif credits: @wolha and @seawherethesunsets

[majorbuckegan]

prettier than a peach (john "bucky" egan x reader)

In which you're his favorite nurse, and John Egan tries his hardest to win your heart.

Words: 1.8K

Warnings: Bucky Egan is a warning all on his own. Fluffy, fluffy fluff.

Disclosure: Please do not copy my work on any other sites. I will be posting this here & on ao3 shortly. This fic is based on the characters brought to life in the Apple TV series Masters of the Air, not the real people the characters were based on.

Note: Peach!Reader is going to make many appearances, I'm going to make this a series. Without further adieu, enjoy.

It all started on a Saturday morning. It was early—really early. You hadn't really expected to have anyone walking around near the infirmary, but at half past 0300, you heard the sounds of heavy footfalls, with slurred speech and another low voice arguing.

 You get up to look out the window, and not a second goes by before the door swings open. You recognize the two men instantly: Major Gale "Buck" Cleven is half dragging Major John "Bucky" Egan into the infirmary. 

"Morning, ma'am." Major Cleven's blue eyes zero in on you immediately, and he offers you a kind (and apologetic) smile. "My buddy here had a bit too much to drink and got himself into a scuffle with some guys at the bar." 

Your gaze flickers to Major Egan, studying him with a calculating gaze. He's going to have a black eye, you notice, and he's holding onto the left side of his ribs. It's not the first time you've heard of the Major getting into a fight, but it's the first time it's happened on your shift. 

"Alright, Major." You're addressing Egan now, coming to his side to support his left side. "Let's get you settled in bed so I can take a look at those ribs." 

You are wholly unprepared for the absolute human hurricane that is Major John Egan.

"Tryin' to get me in bed already, doll?" His words are slurred from too much alcohol, but his voice is deep and husky, and you hate the way it makes you shiver. "I don't even know your name."

Major Cleven sucks in a breath and rolls his eyes. "John Clarence Egan." That accent drawls his friend's name, and his tone is very much annoyed. "You're in the presence of a lady—a nurse—for crying out loud. Behave."

"Oh, c'mon, she walked right into that one." He insists, "She thought it was funny. You thought it was funny, right, doll?"

Stormy blue eyes are suddenly fixed on your face. It's almost like time stops for you; of course you've seen him around before, but the moment you really look into his eyes, it's like you can see your whole life ahead of you. He's quiet now, just watching you, and he finds himself absolutely anamored with the delicate blush working its way onto your face.

"It was a little funny." You admit it, but you don't meet his eyes again. You're too afraid of what you'll see on his face, because while you're falling hard and fast at first sight, he's only flirting with a woman. That's all it is to him, you're sure of it.

His chest is warm when you open his jacket and roll up his shirt. You have to ignore how beautifully masculine he is on order to focus on your job. Your eyes flicker to his abdomen, and sure enough, there are wicked bruises starting to show on the skin that covers his ribs. You're pretty sure they're not broken, but you have to be sure.

"This may hurt." You warn him, your fingers prodding gently at his side, and he hisses quietly under his breath. You don't feel anything out of place, but he'll definitely need a few hours of rest and something to ease the pain.

"Your hands are freezing." He grumbles, and before you can say anything, he's got both of them in his much bigger, warmer hands. "There, that's better."

"You're unbelievable, John Egan." Major Cleven speaks up from behind you, his tone more exasperated than anything else.

You carefully extract your hands from Major Egan's, and you try to ignore the way he pouts when you're no longer touching him. "I'll keep him overnight for observation, Major Cleven. Make sure he rests and heals up a bit."

Major Cleven looks strangely relieved, but still, he frowns. "Are you sure? I can handle Bucky; I don't want him causing you any trouble."

His gentle demeanor makes you smile. "I appreciate that, Major, but I've dealt with far rowdier men than Major Egan here. You go on and get some rest; I'll handle this."

Major Egan looks irritated that you and his best friend were talking about him like he wasn't even there. "Just call me Bucky. Or I'll take John." He tells you, his tone demanding, his lips pulled into yet another pout.

"You behave yourself." Major Cleven points a finger at him, his face stern. When he turns back to you, he offers another warm smile. "You might as well call me Buck, too, since you're saving me from trying to sleep in the same room as that one while he's drunk."

You offer your name in return, and you offer a comforting smile as you shoo Buck off to bed.

It's quiet for a moment after the other Major takes his leave. You wonder if the alcohol has made Major Egan fall asleep. You're surprised to see his eyes open and staring directly at you when you turn around.

"Can't remember if I've ever seen you around before." He says, his words still slightly slurred as he speaks. You can't recall ever having heard a voice like his before. Gravely, warm and steady, even with alcohol in his system. "I'd remember that face; you're so pretty."

"And you're drunk." You answer, turning away before he can notice that you're blushing. You've dealt with flirty airmen before, but this is the first time it's really gotten to you. "Get some rest, Major."

He's quiet for a moment, and you're grateful for a reprieve from the flirting as you mark the log book with a pencil. The only noise for a few moments is the lead scratching against the paper as you write.

"I'm gonna call you Peach."

When you turn back, his lips tug into the most heart-stopping smirk you've ever seen. "You could just call me Nurse." You point out, and for some reason, that only seems to egg him on.

"Well, I like Peach. You're prettier than a peach. Sweet as one too; look at that blush." You're sure you've forgotten how to breathe.

"You're a menace." You answer after you've finally gotten a hold of your emotions. "And it's early; you need rest. Sleep."

"How about a goodnight kiss first?" You almost toss the log book at him. Almost. "Just one on the forehead, and then I'll sleep. Scout's honor, Peach."

You sigh, your eyes darting over his face for a moment. Sure, he's a flirt, but you've never heard of him ever harming a woman. So you walk over to his bedside and lean down.

His forehead is warm, an errant curl tickling your cheek as your lips press against his skin. You feel him shudder under the touch of your lips against him, but then his breathing evens back out as you lean away.

"Alright, Major, you got your kiss. Now sleep." He doesn't miss the way your eyes flicker to his lips and away again, but he does as he's told and rolls over onto his side.

After he falls asleep, the morning is quiet. Your shift at the infirmary ends at 0600 and the nurse who comes to relieve you doesn't seem surprised to see Bucky there. She rolls her eyes and huffs a laugh as you explain how he came to be in a bed in the infirmary.

He's shifting awake as you're leaving, and his blue eyes have just enough time to focus on your retreating form before you're gone. He was a little saddened; he'd been hoping for one more kiss.

Outside, the air is still cool, and the sun is just beginning to peek beyond the horizon. The inky blackness of the sky is lightening to a shade of blue that looks like Major Egan's eyes, and God, you have to stop thinking about him. You really didn't need to get attached.

You pass Buck on the way back to your quarters, and he waves at you with one of his dazzling smiles as he passes. He's wearing his uniform, and you know that means he'll be out in the sky soon enough. You return his smile and wave happily.

Exhaustion sweeps through you as you enter your quarters, and you make quick work of taking your hair pins out and wiping your makeup off. By the time your head hits the pillow, sleep pulls you under. The only things on your mind as you fall asleep are dark curls and blue eyes.

***

Hours later, you blink awake. There's still sunlight flittering in through the curtains over your window, and you sit up to stretch your arms and shoulders. It had to be close to dinnertime, and your stomach rumbles as you slip out of bed and dress in your uniform. Sometimes you missed your dresses back home, but you always felt a sense of pride in your olive drab skirt and jacket. You make sure to swipe on your Victory Red lipstick before you leave.

Placing your cover under your arm, you slip out of your barracks just to come face-to-face with a man. Not just any man, either.

"Peach!" He's still loud, his face wide and warm and friendly. His breath smells like the peppermint gum he's chewing, and his eyes are clear. "Don't think I didn't see you slip out of the room before I could ask for my morning kiss."

He's smiling so brightly that it's like looking at the sun. He's all white teeth and dark curls and blue eyes, his cover tucked under his arm. He's got a single flower in his free hand. You've never seen someone look so devastatingly beautiful.

"Major." You greet him, and it's a good thing you didn't put on blush when refreshing your makeup because your face is hot now. Just from looking at him. "What brings you to the women's barracks?"

"I told you, Peach. Call me Bucky. Or John." His grin never falters. You want to kiss the corner of his mouth, nip at the jawline. He's got so much energy and vitality, and your heart beats so loudly that it's a wonder he can't hear. "Well, I came to offer you this gorgeous flower I found on my way over here and ask if you'd like to dance with me tonight."

You'd forgotten all about the party tonight. A crew completing their 25th mission—you hadn't really planned on attending, but you find yourself very tempted to go. "I'm not really the party type." You admit that, and that dims the light in his eyes a little. You regret the words immediately.

"Just one dance." He steps in closer, taking up more space. He's so tall and broad-shouldered; the man takes up so much room that it makes you feel small in the best way. "For your favorite patient? After all, you did give me a good-night kiss. That's gotta count for something."

Your mind rewinds to that moment, when he was fever-warm and shivering under your lips, when you'd wanted so badly to let him kiss you all over. If you weren't blushing before, you sure are now. "Alright, Bucky," You have to ignore the way he lights up when you use his nickname. "One dance."

[roosterr]

i've known war

john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader wc: 9.3k (whoops) summary: you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. warnings: established relationship, angst and sadness and depression, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, graphic description of injury, mentions of torture, eventual happy ending, military and medical inaccuracies, pls ignore any plot holes i beg

requested here! follow up to love you from afar, but can be read as a standalone. im so sorry this took me so long to write lmao.

it always feels like the first time when you kiss him. even now, years down the line, the sparks, the warmth, the daze that you leave him in; he truly believes it will never get old.

the way you look, standing in the open doorway of the helicopter, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, it makes his head feel so fuzzy he almost forgets why you're all here in the first place.

it's the sweet sound of his name passing your lips that pulls him back to the present, your voice sending his stomach fluttering.

"earth to johnny," you chuckle, turning to face him and resting your weight against one side of the open door, "what're you thinking so hard about?"

he can't help the smile that breaks out at the sound of your laughter. "just you." johnny replies, closing the small distance between you and snaking an arm around your waist. you smile as he leans in closer, murmuring low in your ear, "and, how i cannae wait to get ye home."

you laugh again, placing a hand on his chest but not quite pushing him back. "we've got a job to do first."

he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles. "then we'd better get a move on, eh?"

"i'll race you," you grin at him, haloed by the light of the sun so beautifully he has to snap himself out of his reverence to respond.

"oh, you're on." 

perhaps it was slightly irresponsible the way he was rushing the others along for his own gain, but within a matter of minutes they're breaching the facility and well on their way to being done with this.

it's only when he's stalking along a dimly lit corridor that he slows down. something was bothering him, an off feeling in the back of his mind that he just can't ignore.

before he can think about it any further, a boom shakes the walls, filling the air with dust and obscuring his vision even more. it was close enough to start a faint ringing in his ears, coming from back the way he came; where he'd split up with ghost and, more importantly, you.

he should stay on target, continue with what they're here to do, his job – but what if you were in trouble? if there's a chance you need his help, he couldn't risk it. it takes less than a second for him to turn back, making the decision to check on what caused the explosion before continuing.

quietly stalking back down the corridor, it takes him slightly longer to register the fact that he hasn't heard anything over the radio; no updates, no clever remarks from ghost, nothing. they worked not fifteen minutes ago, just after you'd split up and checked them. surely nothing could've happened in such a short space of time?

he does his best to push through the sinking feeling that tries to drag him down, but it's stubborn, creeping in from the corners of his mind.

he reaches where he left you in half the time it took him to walk away, the intersection of two corridors just as empty as the rest of the halls. he points his flashlight in the direction you went, and the feeling in his gut gets worse.

something glinting in the light catches his attention. the end of the corridor is collapsed, when it definitely hadn't been before, but it's what lies in front of the rubble that he zeroes in on. partially obscured by the layer of filth and blood coating it, there's no mistaking it when he kneels down, dropping his rifle to the ground beside him, and carefully takes the metal in his trembling hand.

it's a pair of id tags.

he numbly calls your name. it bounces off the walls and echoes back to him. the blood runs through the creases of his hand, staining the flesh. the letters of your name are clear through the dirt.

no. you can't be gone.

he looks up to the rubble, shrouded in darkness, back down to your tags, back up to the rubble, and there's a hand just visible under the concrete that looks sickeningly like yours and–

he tears his gaze away, back down to your tags. the chain is snapped, like it had been ripped off in a hurry, as if you'd known you were going to die and wanted to make sure he would find them–

no, no no. you're not dead. you can't be. he just saw you fifteen minutes ago, he bumped his helmet against yours in lieu of a kiss like he always did before you parted ways. you were fine and you were smiling at him. it was only fifteen minutes, you were right here, he can still hear your voice taunting him about the race between you, it was only fifteen minutes–

a heavy hand comes down on johnny's shoulder, startling him out of his panicked daze and instinctively he jumps up and swings his arm at whoever stuck up on him.

ghost catches his forearm easily, his eyes moving between your tags clutched in johnny's fist to the wreckage behind him. when he meets johnny's watery eyes again, the coldness in his gaze seems to soften as he arrives at the same conclusion.

the ringing in johnny's ears hasn't left. in fact, it's gotten worse.

"we– we gotta find 'em," johnny's breath comes out shallow and ragged, the panic slowly rising in his chest through the initial numbness. "fucks sake, they cannae– we– we–"

"johnny." ghost interrupts his sputtering short, bracing both hands on his biceps and giving him a gentle, grounding shake. "...come on."

"no! simon we–" his breath catches in his throat, heart constricting painfully beneath his sternum as he grips the front of ghost's vest in desperation. why was ghost giving up so easily? didn't he care? didn't he want to find you?

ghost lowers his gaze, tearing away from the distraught expression on the sergeant's face. "they're gone, soap."

"shut the fuck up!" johnny growls, despair seeping into his voice with every second that passes without you. he tries to shake ghost's hands off, but he doesn't budge. "ye dinnae ken that! they're still here somewhere, we cannae leave without 'em!"

he's gripping your tags like a lifeline, the metal searing against his palm and heavier than anything else he'd ever carried. he shouldn't have them, they shouldn't be in his hand, they should be around your neck, you should be here, with him, and not…

it's too much. his knees give out from under him and, despite ghost's firm grip on his shoulders, he sinks to the floor with his head in his hands.

"simon, fuck– please…" it's a whisper, under his breath, but he knows ghost heard from how he crouches down beside him, laying an arm over his heaving shoulders as he steadily begins to sob.

it's not real. it can't be real. he wants this to be a nightmare so fucking badly, but the pain in his chest is far too real, his tears burning tracks down his face, the weight of your absence pressing down on him and crushing him under the pressure.

he barely notices when price and gaz appear in the hall ahead of them, just about registering the sound of the debris crunching under their boots as they approach. the pair don't say anything as they take in the scene, looking down with furrowed brows at where johnny and ghost are crouched on the floor.

the captain opens his mouth to ask, but ghost cuts him of with a solemn shake of his head.

words are exchanged, but johnny doesn't hear them. his head feels impossibly light, an expanding pressure beneath his temples that makes it hard to think. the ringing keeps getting worse.

the sound of gunfire makes it through the fog. gaz and ghost each take one of his arms, hauling him to his feet and essentially dragging him after the captain as they make their way back out of the building. he can't bring himself to fight them. he blinks, and finds himself strapped into his seat, the one next to him hauntingly empty.

price is talking into the radio, to laswell he assumes, but johnny doesn't register anything he says – anything except the last two words:

"...one k.i.a."

the air is thick with a kind of tension he's never felt before, a shroud of numbness that he can't seem to shake. when they land it follows them, seeping into the air on base and pushing down on whoever crosses their path. none of them have to ask to understand what happened.

johnny keeps your tags, clutches them close to his heart, and practically bites the head off of anyone who tries to take them from his white-knuckled grip, even as he gets checked out in the medical wing. his quietness puts the medics on edge, he can tell. something about the way he doesn't even flinch when they cleanse his wounds, the polar opposite to his his usual talkative nature, it tells them there's no use trying to console him. they try to convince him to let the tags go, but he doesn't acknowledge their words.

the broken chain stays firmly wrapped around his palm until he's staring down his own hollow face in the bathroom mirror. he'd turned the sink on fifteen minutes ago to wash the blood away, the water so hot it fogs up his reflection, but he can't bring himself to put his hands under the stream.

because it's your blood, not just the usual grime from missions. if he washes it off, he's washing you off, and he doesn't want to do that, no matter how disgusting it is.

there's a knock at the door, and only then does he realise how long he's been staring at the red that decorates his hands. he still makes no effort to move. 

despite his lack of response, gaz opens the door and meets his eyes in the mirror. there's a pause as he waits for johnny to say something, but when he only lets the silence go on, he takes it upon himself to approach.

"soap…" he utters, brows tilting in concern watching his friend continue to stare absently into the mirror. with a deep sigh, kyle takes his empty fist and pries his fingers from his palm. johnny's eyes gravitate to the fresh blood that wells up in the crescent indents. watching the red droplets fall, disappearing into the running water, the pain finally registering in his mind when kyle presses a cloth to his hand.

the sting of the hot water is there, a distant feeling as johnny allows him to wash the blood away, never saying a word as he watches kyle's efforts, like an observer of his own form, right there but looking in from the outside.

kyle reaches for your tags, but his fingers barely brush the metal before johnny is shoving him back with a rush of anger that happens so fast he doesn't even have time to process his own reaction.

with a thud, kyle's back hits the wall and for a moment neither of them dare move. they watch each other in silence, wide-eyed shock mirrored in both their expressions.

"i…" i'm sorry. the words catch in his chest, falling into the void there and never escaping for gaz to hear. he can't let him touch your tags. it's the only part of you he has left. "...don't touch 'em."

kyle squeezes his eyes shut, breathing a deep sigh through his nose. "alright, i'm sorry, i won't touch them." his tone is low and careful as he steps closer again, hands open so johnny can see them. he feels like a feral animal, being coaxed to let kyle approach. "but you need to rest, mate."

the weeks blend together after that day. some days johnny feels like the shock will never wear off, like he's living on autopilot. others, it all comes crashing down on him and even dragging himself out of bed becomes a challenge.

his dreams are plagued with images of you, lifeless and cold. it stops him from sleeping most nights, but others are filled with memories of your life together playing on loop, a constant reminder of what he can never have again.

the room you used to share is always filled with flowers; gardenias, gladioli, forget-me-nots, and anything else he sees that he thinks you'd like. when they wilt, and eventually die, he presses the petals in the pages of his sketchbook, keeping them in a box next to the very first flowers he ever got you, the memories preserved forever under your – his bed.

that same sketchbook that's filled with page after page of your image, some from the multitude of pictures he keeps of you, and when he inevitably runs out of references, he draws you from memory. it gets to the point where he can't pick up a pencil without your face haunting him; you always did love his art, even if he didn't think it was any good.

he knows he's not the only one taking it hard. the others are different too; gaz is quieter, something more serious in his eyes now. the captain doesn't appear moved on the surface, and neither does ghost, but when they look at the empty seat where you used to sit, the memory of you is evident in the way their shoulders deflate ever so slightly.

once word spreads about what exactly happened, the never-ending condolences and pitying looks from the people around base gets old very quickly. they tell him how they're so sorry for his loss and what happened to you was so tragic, and it shouldn't annoy him as much as it does, but he can't help the anger that bubbles up in his chest when they talk about you.

he doesn't want to hear it, and every time he has to listen to their pitying comments it only makes him resent them more. they didn't know you, they didn’t care, they probably didn't even know who you were before you died. they could never hope to understand what you meant to him, to the taskforce, the gap in their team that you left behind.

it's when someone suggests moving on from you that it all finally bubbles over.

six months later, a long time since that day but somehow no time at all. he'd gone out for drinks for the first time in a while, after some gentle coercion from simon, along with another group of soldiers staying on base.

he didn't even want to go, not really, but something in him knew he couldn't carry on like he had been. he needed some form of normalcy, one night where he can pretend everything is fine and you're just waiting for him back home, to just forget.

it didn't take him long to realise going out with them was a mistake. almost immediately he was dragged into a conversation with a few guys from another unit, and despite his many attempts they just wouldn't leave him be.

somehow, after about an hour of mindless chatter, they land on the topic of their love lives and recent conquests, and johnny immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. he wanted to slip away, avoid what he knew was coming at any cost, but he couldn't get away fast enough.

one of them brings up your name, they all look to him with a sort of curiosity that makes his skin crawl. they ask him if he's planning on staying hung up on you forever. johnny says it's only been six months. one of them laughs and tells him it's just sad, and from the looks of it you weren't anything special.

johnny smashes a glass over his head. price benches him for a few weeks after that.

it's hell, being left behind, alone, while the others went on like usual, and truthfully he starts to resent them all, bit by bit from the first time he's left on the tarmac. it felt like they didn't care, that johnny's heart, his life, his soul has changed but they carried on without looking back once. he isolates and shuts them out in a fit of misplaced anger, building the walls around his heart higher and higher and letting that resentment fester.

the day of your funeral brings it all crashing down. after all those months of waiting, johnny didn't even make it more than five lines into the speech he'd prepared before he's breaking down and stumbling out the side door in a hyperventilating mess. simon follows behind like his shadow, sitting down with him when he slides down the wall with a hand clutching his chest. he cries into simon's shoulder for rest of the service, releasing all the pent up anguish he'd been trying to keep inside in a catharsis he didn't realise he needed. 

when they get back to base the next morning, johnny’s practically begging to be allowed back in the field. he found himself missing the chaos, the unpredictability of the battlefield was where he was in his element. this job was how you met, how you got together, how you lived. he never felt closer to you than when he was out in the field with adrenaline pumping through his veins.

it takes some convincing, but price gives in and everything feels like it's back to normal. missions are quieter than they'd ever been, but johnny finds it doesn't bother him anymore. he feels your presence by his side like the sun on his back, always with him, like his guardian angel.

it's six more months before anything changes.

in the back of the helicopter, a few minutes out from the landing site, an oddly comforting sense of déjà vu washes over him. the bright blue expanse of the sky, the warmth of the sun on his skin, he almost feels that if he turned to his left, he'd see you sitting there with that same smile lighting up your face.

his fingers tighten around your tags.

"you watchin', bonnie?" he presses his lips to the cool metal, feeling your name under his skin as he mumbles to himself. his gaze finds the roof of the helicopter, and even without looking he knows the others are watching him, that familiar solemn look on their faces.

they were doing this for you. everything johnny did was for you. he puts your tags safely away in the pocket if his vest closest to his heart.

the helicopter jolts as it lands, and with no more than a second's hesitation he's shooting up from his seat, a renewed energy flooding his body to the tips of his fingers. they step out into the biting air, a chill than not even the afternoon sun could stave off, and quickly begin their march into the small facility.

"you two, take that side. gaz, with me." price commands, and with a sharp nod from the three of them, they split up and begin their canvassing. they were here for intel, but there was no guarantee they were alone, despite the emptiness of the halls they move through.

their footsteps echo off the walls, only the distant howling of the wind outside to accompany them. the hairs on the back of johnny's neck were on end, an unease setting off alarm bells in the back of his mind following behind ghost.

the déjà vu from earlier isn't comforting anymore. he doesn't feel you watching over him, and the feeling only gets stronger as they approach a doorway ahead, bathed in a red light.

ghost pauses in the entrance, looking back at johnny and waiting for his affirming nod before pushing forward. the room is empty, the same as the rest of the building, save for the table sitting against the far wall.

there's something else there, he notices as he creeps closer to get a better look. a frown darkens his expression. it's a laptop, untouched and central on the table, a strange contrast to the almost methodical emptiness around it.

"oi, check this." johnny calls, turning around as ghost stalks over with a similar confusion on his face.

"that what we're here for?" he asks, examining the laptop with a deep frown casting shadow over his eyes.

"looks like it." johnny replies, slowly and carefully picking it up as his frown deepens. he was half expecting it to somehow blow up, but when he lifts the screen it lights up to the desktop with no issue. "that's convenient."

"very convenient..." ghost grunts, jerking his head in the direction of the door and speaking into the radio as he walks ahead of johnny. "price, we've got it. headin' to exfil now."

back on base a few hours later, the four of them with the addition of laswell sit around the table in a meeting room with the doors firmly shut, eyes locked onto the laptop with rapt tension as gaz opens the only file they could recover from the device.

the video starts abruptly with 'the mask' – the pretentious alias of man that heads the organisation they've been steadily eliminating all this time – in front of the camera, the dingy room behind him barely lit, the walls splattered with what johnny could only assume was blood.

"i trust that my message has found you well, task force one-four-one." his voice comes through the speakers, crackly and distorted by the low quality recording. "you have been relentless in your pursuit of us, and i applaud you for your efforts, but it's time to put an end to this."

johnny looks back at price, watching as his expression hardens and his fingers dig into his arms where they're crossed over his chest. it's obvious they've been set up, but it's too late to be concerned with that now. the problem now is how they're going to continue knowing the enemy has information on them that they shouldn't have.

the sound of something being dragged brings his attention back to the video, facing the screen again to see another masked man dumping a person with a bag over their head onto a chair in the centre of the room.

"i have something i believe you will be interested in." the chuckle is audible in his voice even beneath the mask and through the screen.

their wrists and ankles are tied together, and if it weren't for the laboured rise and fall of their chest, johnny wouldn't be sure if they were even alive.

"fuck– a hostage?" price spits, and even without looking he knows laswell is already working on finding a location, if the sound of her rapidly typing is any indication.

"something very… precious to you."

the figure moves to stand behind the person in the chair and yanks the bag from their head. he grabs their jaw and forces them to look up, a sickening laugh meeting johnny's ears as they make eye contact with the camera. 

it's…

it's you.

you're beaten and bruised and covered head to toe in blood, but it's undoubtedly you when the faceless man yanks your head up.

johnny's sure his heart stops.

you're alive. you've been alive all this time. in the hands of a terrorist, and within an inch of your life, but…

you're alive.

"drop your investigation of us, and i will let them live." the masked man stalks back around to your side, still holding your jaw in a vice grip. the way you cower, as much as you can with that man's filthy hands on you, it breaks something in johnny. how long have you been in their hands, how long have you been abused by them?

how long have you been waiting for him?

he feels sick to his stomach, but he can't tear his eyes away. the lacerations on your face, the endless bruises littering your skin – when he spots the ones around your neck, he has to swallow down the bile – and how you just seem so tired, barely even fighting to keep your eyes open.

the masked man looks down to you again, pausing as he directs you to look at him through what seems like a black eye. the five of them watch, frozen by shock or anger or both, as the man rears his hand back and slaps you across the face so hard your head whips in the other direction. a pained, defeated sound escapes you, and johnny’s sure a knife to the chest would hurt less.

"do not disappoint me, captain price, or your sergeant will regret it."

the video cuts to black.

the sight of your face is burned into johnny's retinas, every time he blinks your features are there, dripping in your own blood, the only thing he can see.

"kate, tell me you can find this." price growls behind him, his words sounding distant to johnny's ears.

she hums distractedly. "working on it."

their conversation doesn't register, floating in one ear and straight out the other. you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. it's like his prayers have been answered for once in his life, and it may be some cruel trick from god to find you like this but johnny finds himself praying his thanks anyway.

"johnny…?" simon lays a hand on his shoulder, turning him in his chair to make worried eye contact with his shell-shocked expression. it jolts him out of his thoughts, the energy of the room a controlled kind of frantic as he comes back down to earth.

"that's– it's them, they're–" johnny sputters, gripping ghost's forearm with an absent desperation in his glassy eyes, "simon, they're alive."

he can't stop thinking about how empty your expression looked, the way you didn't have any fight left, and the gravity of what's been happening to you since the moment he lost you slowly creeps up on him.

have you given up hope of them finding you?

"we'll get 'em back, soap, listen to me," price drops a heavy, grounding hand on his other shoulder, halting his spiralling train of thought, "they're comin' home." his voice is resolute, no room for argument where he speaks it almost like a command.

johnny can only nod. 

his head is still light as more rushed conversation happens around him. simon's hand is still on his shoulder, and that might be the only reason he hasn't completely fallen apart yet, but the thread is pulling taught enough to snap. his nails carve dents into his palms but he doesn't have the mind to unfurl them.

"sir, we've got a hit." gaz speaks up from where he's leaned over kate's shoulder, a determined glint in his eye when he meets the captain's gaze. johnny’s head snaps in his direction, his pulse quickening with every word that sparks new hope in his chest. "two hundred klicks northeast of where we found the laptop."

"good work, you two," price is pacing back and forth, scratching his beard with a calculating look on his face. they watch him for a moment, waiting for his command on what their next move will be, but johnny finds his patience wearing incredibly thin.

"the fuck we waitin' for? let's get out there'n go after the wee bastards!" he growls, his narrowed gaze darting between price and the others as he steadily grows more and more restless.

simon shakes his head from beside him, "hold your horses."

"this is delicate, we have to do this one right." price pauses, his eyes losing their hardness as he meets johnny's desperate face. "i know how much this means to you, but you're too close to this, soap."

the pause that follows that is so thick with tension it makes it hard to breath. a boiling type of rage bubbles up in his chest, extending to every trembling limb and turning his vision red. there was no way in hell he wasn't going to be there for you every step of the way when – not if – they rescued you.

"ye can get yersel' right tae fuck!" he spits, his face contorted with anger as he shoots up from his chair and points an accusatory finger at the captain. "that's too far, price, ye cannae keep me outta this!"

"johnny, sit down." simon warns, using the hand still on his shoulder to put some space between him and price, but johnny doesn't budge; this was far too important.

"yer aff yer heid, both of ye's! if ye won't let me come, i'll go mysel', ye fuckin' hear?" he growls, shaking free of simon's hand. his glare travels between him and price, hands wound into fists at his sides.

the air turns heavy as they stare each other down. if price thinks he'll back down on this, johnny would love nothing more than to prove him wrong.

he's moments away from meeting his fist to price's face when gaz stands up and gets between them. "that's his other half, sir. respectfully, he deserves to be part of this." he reasons, giving price a firm look and a small nod to johnny. "you'd be the same in his position."

the tension is palpable. he watches  over gaz's shoulder as the captain deliberates, clearly having an internal battle over the decision, but eventually he sighs and fixes johnny with a stern look.

price closes the distance between them, patting gaz on the arm as he passes. "screw your head on, mactavish. we only get one shot at this, i need to know i can trust you not to fuck it up."

a spark of hope makes johnny's heart race, and he gives price a single resolute nod of confirmation. "i won't, sir."

laswell stands and walks around the table to stand beside price, a similarly firm expression. "we have to play this carefully. they wanted us to find that laptop, i have no doubt they wanted us to find where they are too."

"so what's our angle?" gaz asks.

laswell and price share a look.

"this has to be off the books, there's no way we'll get clearance for this." laswell answers, her expression turning noticeably darker, looking over to price as she continues, "if we want them back alive, we'll have to act fast. that means we're on our own."

the captain nods with no hesitation. "we are getting my sergeant back. i don't care how we have to do it."

they're loading into the back of a helo not even an hour later. the five of them, along with two field medics and the pilot, with the strict instructions in johnny's head to bring you home or to not come back at all.

there's only one coherent thought racing through his mind for the entire; you. getting you back, taking you home, finding the man that took you away from him – and hurt you – and making him pay.

he fishes your tags out of his pocket and presses them to his lips in a lingering kiss, just like he always does. soon, he thinks, it would be you he'd be kissing, not just a remnant of you.

the flight passes by so quickly it's almost as if he'd blinked and they were landing again.

the air is glacial as they ready themselves, preparing for the mask to put up a fight that they fully intend to win. the plan was decided on during the journey; kate and ghost would provide support from a distance while price, gaz, and johnny would confront the bastard head on. his focus is razor sharp, marching through the trees and underbrush, blood rushing in his ears and jaw clenched painfully tight.

the sky is just as strikingly blue as the day he lost you.

bring you home, or don't come back.

they reach a break in the trees, surrounding the small facility they tracked the video to that looked more like a derelict warehouse than a base. either way, the dark figure of their target is visible against the brick wall, surrounded by a number of his own soldiers – johnny counts six as he, price, and gaz make themselves known coming through the treeline. they share a quick look; they know how this will end.

"well met, captain," the mask calls, slowing to a stop and leaving a few metres of space between himself and the three of them, "will you make the right choice, or will your sergeant suffer for your pride, i wond–"

his monologue is cut short by a shot from the darkness of the treeline and lodging mercilessly into the base of his throat. his deadweight hits the ground with a thud that echoes, and in less than a second bullets are flying.

soap tightens his grip on his gun, raising it to glare down the sights and firing at the soldier nearest to him and dropping him with one well placed bullet to the leg and another to the face once he was on the floor.

another shot from the treeline drops one more; four left.

gaz and price take out another two between them in a similar fashion to soap, leaving two still standing – one of whom was advancing fast with the barrel of his gun pointed at soap while the other backed away.

one more shot rings out from the trees and one more body falls, but the last hostile was far too close for comfort now, johnny had no choice but to tackle him to the ground, narrowly avoiding being shot himself on the way down.

a few seconds pass as they wrestle on the ground, both trying desperately to gain the upper hand but falling just short because of the other. from his peripheral soap can see price running to his aid, but his momentary distraction allowed his assailant to take the upper hand and roll on top of him.

hands constrict around his neck, cutting off his airflow, but a well timed shot from price sends him falling over sideways, sputtering blood from the wound in his side.

soap heaves and cough, pulling air back into his lungs and glaring at the body of the man who almost got the better of him. this only meant they were one step closer to getting you back; he was one step closer to having you in his arms again. it didn't matter if he got hurt in the process.

price's outstretched hand suddenly appears in his vision, "get up soap, we've got a job to do."

his daze melts away and he takes the captain's hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright with an affirming nod shared between them.

"good aim, ma'am." gaz calls over the radio, looking down his nose at the steadily declining state of the mask; his infamous facade now cracked and broken, revealing the agonised face beneath.

"bring 'em home, boys." kate replies, and though he can't see her face johnny can imagine the commanding look she's undoubtedly wearing.

gaz backs away as johnny crosses the mess of crimson and dirt to where the mask lays, sprawled out and immobilised by his injuries but still very much alive, giving the fellow sergeant a respectful nod as he goes. "he's all yours, mate."

johnny stands over his fading form, watching with a detached look in his eye as the blood spills from the gaping wound in his neck with every struggled breath, his disjointed intake of air and the pathetic sputters as he inhales his own viscera. there's not a shred of mercy in him as he gazes down at the man, every bit of agony was completely deserved for what he did to you. the death that claws at him would be a blessing.

he gurgles to johnny, raising a weak arm to brush the hem of his trousers as he attempts to expel the words, "pl–ea– plea-se–"

johnny scoffs, dry and venomous. he has half a mind to leave him to suffer until the life finally bleeds from him, but the pure rage he feels listening to this bastard plead for help after putting you through hell for a year is far too strong for him to restrain.

it's unconscious, the way johnny's arm raises to point the barrel of his pistol squarely at the centre of his forehead. he pauses for a moment, if only to see the fear creep into the bastard's expression before his fingers squeeze the trigger and the light is gone from his eyes.

his chest stops heaving and his hand drops back to the mud,  leaving nothing but a few bloody fingerprints in his wake.

johnny pulls the trigger again.

and again, and again, and again, until his face is nothing more than a cavity of gore and lead and the ringing in his ears blocks out everything else around him.

a firm hand comes down on his shoulder and it’s only then does he notice the tension in his muscles and the fierce sneer pulling at his features. his eyes snap to the dark figure in the corner of his vision, meeting the bone white of simon's mask and the frown underneath.

"that'll do, johnny." simon murmurs, his own darkened eyes glaring down at the mangled corpse laying at their feet. he nods, somewhat absently, and turns away from the offending body.

there were more important things he needed to keep his head on straight for.

neither him or simon spare the remains of the mask another glance as they leave him behind. price and gaz are waiting by the entrance for them, and as soon as they're close enough they head together into the dark corridors of the building.

as the creep through the abandoned building, now deep in the cold basement, weapons poised and on high alert, there's a new sense of dread that forms in the back of his mind; what if you're not here after all? what if the mask was bluffing and you're already dead?

johnny grits his teeth and shakes his head to rid himself of that damning train of thought. he couldn't afford to think like that, he wouldn't, but another corridor of empty rooms has his heart sinking like an anchor to his stomach. he's trying to stay hopeful, but every dead end only makes him feel worse.

price grips his shoulder, firm and comforting, with a look in his eye to match as he catches johnny's gaze. "we'll find 'em, soap." 

"i know." he replies, but there's a waver in his voice despite the certainty of his words. price doesn't release his gaze or his shoulder until he moves to follow the others.

he doesn't say much else as the search continues. the ringing in his ears is back, amplified by the eerie silence of the halls. he can feel the air getting colder after each empty room the clear.

the time passes arbitrarily, until there's one last room to check. johnny watches gaz and ghost pry it open, the sound of the lock breaking only just reaching him through the fog over his senses.

gaz pauses once the door swings open, his eyes locked onto something in the room as they widen dramatically. he still doesn't tear his gaze away as his jaw falls open, something frantic in the way he yells, "soap!"

a spark of hope strikes his heart and travels to the very ends of his limbs, a new burst of energy filling him as he shoves past his teammates to stand in the doorway and look into the room himself.

it's you.

curled into yourself in the corner of the damp cell, shivering with your face buried in your knees with your hands clamped over your ears. it's almost uncanny, how small you look. the tremble in your limbs, the fear in your quickened breaths, it was the exact opposite of how you should be, but despite it all…

it's really you.

johnny feels his heart swell painfully with relief, and without another second of hesitation he's skidding to his knees beside you and gripping the cold skin of your wrists. you let out a muffled sob at the contact, and johnny feels his blood turn cold when it meets his ears.

"don't!" you cry, weak and desperate. johnny's caught off guard with how you try to rip yourself away from him, the shakes that wrack your body only increasing when he keeps his hold on you. "get off! please– please don't!"

his heart cracks anew at the distress in your hoarse voice. he feels his eyes well up with hot tears that he has to fight to keep from falling.

"hey, it's me! it's johnny, it's your johnny! look at me, sweetheart, i'm here!" he tries to calm you with his words, keeping his voice low between you both, but you keep your eyes screwed tightly shut.

johnny lets go of your wrists to cup your face in his hands instead, gently turning your head towards him and using his thumbs to stroke soft shapes into your cheeks. the gesture makes your breath hitch audibly, and your eyes slowly open to meet his. "that's it, I'm here, i got ye, yer alright."

"don't– i don't– i can't…" whatever you're trying to say is broken up by the effort it takes you to keep breathing through your sobs. you still try to lean away from his touch, but johnny doesn't let you move far. he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his own breakdown.

"no-one's gonna hurt you again, darlin', i promise ye." he murmurs, searching your glassy eyes while he continues to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your face, wet with your tears. "c'mere, i've got ye…"

with little more resistance from you, johnny gathers you into his arms and presses you close to his chest, they way he'd been dreaming off all the time you'd been apart. he pays no mind to the way the hard ground digs into his knees, and instead focuses on feeling the rise and fall of your ribcage against his own, your heartbeat under his fingertips, and the very real sound of your voice.

"you– j-johnny…" you stutter, your hiccuping sobs gradually fading away as you grip the bulk of his vest like a lifeline. "are you… real?"

"i'm real, darlin'," his voice cracks despite his efforts to stay strong for you. he presses his lips to the tip of your head in a lingering kiss, partly so you won't see the glossy tears in his eyes as he tries to stamp them down. "i'm here. i swear, i'm never lettin' you out of my sight again."

the simple feeling of your weight leaning against him is so overwhelming he's worried he might faint. he lets you calm down, rubbing soothing patterns up and down your arms and back and wherever he can reach, even when the position becomes uncomfortable and the dampness from the floor has seeped into his bones.

eventually though, he does pull back, softly shush you when you protest in the thought that he's leaving you, and cups your head in his warm hands.

"let's get you home, eh?" he smiles. your uncertain eyes dart between his for a moment, searching, before you nod. it's weak and hesitant, but the gesture makes his grin stretch a little wider all the same. "c'mon then, think ye can walk?"

johnny sighs when you shake your head, looking down and seeming almost embarrassed by your frail condition as if any of this was your fault. if he could kill that bastard again, he wouldn't even hesitate.

it's no bother to him to haul you up with him, holding you carefully against his chest with an arm under your knees and the other around your back. you still gingerly grip the top of his vest, your free arm looping itself around his neck and pulling yourself as close to him as you can muster. he gives a concise nod to the others, crowded in the doorway, and they begin the trek back to the helo.

the sunlight causes you to bury your face in the crook of johnny's neck, shielding your eyes from the blindingly bright rays. he allows himself a moment of distraction as they cross the clearing to revel in the feeling. he'd feel the sun on his face again, but he'd never again take for granted a single moment he spends with you.

they're almost to the edge of the clearing, almost departed from that haunted place with a graveyard of mangled bodies in their wake, but he doesn't quite make it to the treeline.

a single gunshot echoes through the clearing and before any of them can react, the shell has found its mark in johnny's leg. the force and shock of it sends him tumbling to the floor, scrambling through the blossoming pain to brace his fall on his arms so he won't land on top of you.

there's yelling, returning fire, but johnny can only focus on covering your body with his own, shielding you from any harm that might find you. even through the agony travelling up his thigh, even when the air is still again, and even when his own eyes are threatening to follow yours in falling shut and succumbing to the weakness that drags him down.

when did you shut your eyes? johnny slips his hand under your hand, grunting in his chest as his weight shifts, and to his horror his fingers come back red.

no, no no. he only just got you back, he cannot lose you again.

he doesn't even register that he's shouting – for help, a medic, something – until his weight is being heaved over ghost's shoulder and you're being taken by price, the cracks in his stony expression only fuel the sick dread making its way up johnny's throat.

back in the helo, in no time but he doesn't remember the journey, he tries to push the medic away who starts working on his leg, slurring for them to help you first. they ignore him, obviously, and if he had any energy left he would've berated them for not listening. ghost holds him down as they secure the tourniquet, and as his vision finally begins to fade, he turns his head to the side so you can be the last thing he sees as he slips into unconsciousness.

for once, he doesn't dream of you.

there are no images of your body, laying motionless under the rubble. he sleeps in blissful oblivion, his head completely silent, and wakes a day and a half later feeling more rested than he ever has despite the wound in his leg.

simon is by his bedside when he finally opens his eyes. it's late, the room dark apart from the fluorescent light bleeding in from the gap under the door and simon's phone highlighting his balaclava. he notices the moment johnny turns his head to watch him, because of course he does, and reaches over to turn on the lamp on the side table without a word.

"mornin', lt…" johnny mumbles, voice hoarse and eyes heavy as he pushes through the tiredness clinging to his senses to sit up in his bed. the light is abrasive to his eyes, but he blinks through the sting and manages a lazy smile towards simon.

"evenin', more like." he replies, a trace of humour in the way his eyes lift at the corners. "been asleep nearly thirty-eight hours."

johnny baulks at that, suddenly feeling a lot more awake from the cold shock that passes through him. "thirty–? jesus wept, i need'ta–" he sputters, wide-eyed as he throws the blankets from his legs and starts to get up, "i need'ta see 'em, how–"

before he can get his feet on the ground however, he's pushed back by simon's hand on his chest, forcing him to sit back and acknowledge the pain radiating from his thigh.

"they're fine, johnny." simon tells him, punctuated with a roll of his eyes before he continues, "been in and out of consciousness, but they're stable."

johnny sighs deeply, relief flooding through his body as he slumps back against his pillows. you're okay, you're alive, you're here, and you're home and safe. his thoughts have already begun racing and despite how much his wounds are aching, he's already set his mind to how he's going to see you as soon as possible.

as if sensing his plotting, simon leans forward to catch his gaze and even through the mask johnny can see the look he's sending him.

"i'm goin' back to bed, so don't do anythin' stupid." simon begins, pushing himself to stand using the arms of his chair and narrowing his eyes as he leans even closer. "if you rip these stitches, i'll put 'em back in myself, clear?"

"crystal, lt." johnny nods, and simon holds his stare as one last warning before he turns to leave – but not without giving him a firm pat just below his bandages that makes him wince, feeling the silent threat behind the gesture as he watches simon exit silently out into the hall.

johnny swings his legs over the side of the bed the second the door swings shut again, a sharp intake of breath following the movement as his weight shifts. surely he could get to where you are without making his wound any worse, he hard could it be?

he makes it two doors down before he realises that this might've been a bad idea. the muscles of his thigh burn and his breath comes out in heavy, stuttered huffs, but despite the strain on his injured body he refuses to give up before he's seen that you're okay with his own two eyes.

the fourth door he peeks through is where he finds you, the sight of your sleeping form instantly overpowering the pain in his leg. he shoulders open the door and beelines in a limp to your bedside, his gaze never once leaving your face until he's close enough to grasp your hand in a slow, featherlight touch like you'd disappear if he made a wrong move. you don't react as he strokes your knuckles, but johnny is more than content to just sit with you, perched on the edge of your bed and taking in the way your breath fills your lungs, the gentle thrum of your pulse under his fingertips on your wrist.

time passes easily like this, until the minutes have gone by and he can find the strength to lift himself into the bed beside you, snaking his arm around your neck and shoulder to hold you close as he settles in, careful not to agitate any of your own injuries.

"i missed you, my love," johnny whispers, dragging his fingers up and down your arm, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, "i missed you so much…"

your fingers twitch in his hold, the steady rhythm of your breathing hitching as a shaky sigh leaves you. johnny freezes, his hand stilling on your bicep and his eyes growing wide.

"john–" the sound of his name passing your lips pulls him out of his shock, and he pulls back to watch your eyes twitch and flutter open. your voice is raspy and still weak, but not even an angel choir could sound sweeter to him. "johnny…?"

"i'm here–" his voice breaks, but he continues anyway, "i'm here, i got ye." he murmurs, careful to keep his voice low despite how much he wants to cry from joy. "how ye feelin'? you comfy, sweetheart? any pain?" he asks, shifting the both of you to sit against the pillows and keep you nestled against his side.

"i'm okay–" your hoarse response is interrupted by a cough that devolves into wet hiccups, your hands curling tightly into his shirt as you look up at him, "it– am i– it's–"

"shushsh, i'm here darlin', i've got ye." he coos, his eyes welling up to match yours, resuming his soothing touch over your arm. you stay like that, for minutes that could've been hours, gazing into each other's eyes while you softly cry and johnny comforts you.

it aches him to see you cry, but he can't help but awe at how beautiful you still manage to be, with cuts and bruises and tears littering your face. his heart swells in his chest with the love he holds for you.

your hand finds its place on johnny's cheek, your staggered breaths calming down at last. he covers it with his own to feel more of your skin on his. a wince crosses your expression as you try to lean up towards him, but he stops you before you hurt yourself any further and leans his forehead against yours.

you pull his face even closer, digging your fingertips into his cheek in an almost uncomfortable sensation, before brushing your lips against his in something like disbelief. "am i dreaming?"

"no, my love," he utters against your skin, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, nudging your cheek with his nose, "this is real."

your breath hitches again when he closes the little space left between you and presses his lips to yours, encapsulating you in a kiss that holds every ounce of desperation he's been holding on to. it's passionate, all-encompassing, and it reminds him of the first time he kissed you all those years ago. your free hand travels up to his hair, tangling the longer strands around your fingers and drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

he's reluctant to let you when you pull away for air, tasting the salt from your last stray tears as he chases your lips.

"say it again…?" you ask in a murmur, your eyes fluttering open again. the look you give him, one of pure hope that you won't suddenly wake up alone, it makes johnny's heart miss a beat.

he squeezes your hand, turning slightly to leave a kiss on your palm. "it's real, bonnie. i'll die before i ever let you go again."

your mouth opens to say something, but you stop yourself just before you can choke the words out, fresh tears building in your eyes again. johnny gives you an encouraging nod, holding your gaze while you muster the courage to voice what you're thinking.

"i–" you begin, your words catching on a lump in your throat, "i watched you leave without me, i had to watch the helicopter disappear and, and you…" your voice fades, eyes darting between his while they gloss with unshed tears once again.

"sweetheart…" he frowns, his heart breaking anew from the anguish that he never wants to hear in your voice.

you swallow thickly, your hold on his hair tightening ever so slightly. "i thought– i didn't think you'd ever find me…"

"i'd always find you." johnny replies, his resolute tone leaving no room for argument. he touches his forehead to yours again and lowers his voice to continue, "even if i had to go tae the ends of the earth, i'd never stop lookin' fer you."

his words release the fresh tears you've been holding back, and with a quiet sob you drop your face to the crook of his neck, gripping his hair and face tighter still. johnny softly shushes you, rocking the two of you back and forth as much as he can with you held close in his arms.

"you're staying with me tonight…" your voice is muffled, spoken into his neck and sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. a comforting nostalgia follows your words, one he can't help but chuckle at.

"would'nae have it any other way, darlin'."

[willthewiz]

Will's Arc Ties the Whole Series Together

"Will really takes center stage again in [season] 5," Ross Duffer told Variety. "This emotional arc for him is what we feel is going to hopefully tie the whole series together. Will is used to being the young one, the introverted one, the one that’s being protected. So part of his journey, it’s not just sexuality – it’s Will coming into his own as a young man."

So in other words...

Will Byers will receive more attention in season 5 due to his importance in the story. His goals, motivations, conflicts, and decisions will make Will’s story an emotional arc. Instead of Will keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself, he’ll become more open and honest not just to others but also himself. Instead of needing protection and being treated like a child, he will stand up to fight to protect others and make his own decisions instead of doing what others want him to do. To come into his own, Will must face challenges such as going against numerous enemies and trials along the way (internal and external conflicts), and emerge stronger and wiser at the end. Once Will overcomes these challenges, he’ll be able to:

Utilize his strengths and unique qualities to his fullest extent.

Become more self-assured and comfortable in his own skin, no longer needing to defer to others or hold himself back.

Establish a strong, independent sense of self, rather than relying on others' perceptions or definitions of who he is.

Fully showcase his talents, skills, and perspectives, without feeling the need to conform or blend in.

Reach new heights in his career, personal life, or other endeavors where his true abilities can shine.

Will’s story is about self-discovery and growth. He will grow into the fullest expression of his authentic self and potential. His emotional arc will tie the whole series together because in order to defeat Vecna and save Hawkins, Will must stop clinging to his childhood and use that support from others as a stepping stone toward finally growing up and becoming a young man.

And we know Will will always need Mike. Mike is part of the key to Will's self-discovery. Mike makes Will feel like he's not a mistake. He feels better for being different because of Mike. He can be himself because of Mike. And that gives him the courage to fight on. The courage to finally defeat Vecna once and for all. That support from others will play a part in Will growing as a person, thus leading to Will becoming a young man and facing against Vecna.

As I said before, Will’s arc is about self-discovery and growth. He has that acceptance from others such as Jonathan and Mike, and that support will help him grow as a person and become fully comfortable in his own skin. However, Mike isn’t the key because of his acceptance, but rather part of the key to Will coming into his own. Becoming his own person. Will having support is important, but that’s not his story. After coming back from the upside down, Will has been clinging to his childhood. Will’s arc is not about acceptance from others, it’s about him growing up and finding out who he is as a young man. That acceptance and support will lead Will in the right direction toward self-discovery and growth.

"I think Mike is trying to be as normal as possible and try to keep on a normal path." —Finn Wolfhard

"How is he (Mike) this clueless right now? With the Will scene in the car, I remember asking the Duffers, why would he not know this? And they're like, don't worry it'll pay off in the end." —Finn Wolfhard

"I can just tell you that I'm very very excited for what's to come. I think they did a great job with Will's character this season, and beautifully addressed everything they needed to. The way they closed the show is just perfect – the story started with Will, and it’ll end with Will."

—Noah Schnapp

"Our show is an anthem for the marginalized and imperfect, precisely because the Duffer brothers know from experience that the popular and easy road is rarely the most interesting one, and that character, grit, connection, and soul are bred in the same moments that challenge us the most." —Shawn Levy

With Mike and Will becoming a team in season 5 and Will taking center stage, it could only mean one thing...

Byler Endgame

[writeriguess]

hi hello !!

could you write an ushijima x reader: where reader is a known sports interviewer and she interviews ushijima after every game - but he slowly falls in love with her every time and then finally after winning a big game he looks into the camera and announces that they're engaged.

(P.S. your write so beautifully) 💕

Ushijima Wakatoshi was never one for unnecessary words, and it was part of what made him one of the most focused and driven volleyball players on the court. Every game, he led his team to victory with an intensity that was both admirable and intimidating. And every game, there was you—the sharp, insightful interviewer who always managed to draw a few words from him, even when he would rather let his actions speak.

You’d been interviewing Ushijima after his games for nearly a year now. The first time, it had been just another job, and you had approached him like any other player: professional, polite, and to the point. But as time went on, there was something about the quiet determination in his eyes and the way he answered your questions with careful precision that intrigued you. It became a sort of ritual—after every match, you’d wait for him by the sidelines, microphone in hand, and he’d offer his succinct answers to your probing questions.

At first, Ushijima found your presence just part of the routine. But soon, he started looking forward to it. The way you listened so intently, the slight smile that tugged at your lips when he gave a particularly dry response—it was subtle, but he noticed. Your energy was a stark contrast to his stoic nature, but there was something comforting in it.

You never pushed too hard, never forced him to say more than he wanted to, but your questions were thoughtful, and you always showed genuine interest. Over time, he realized he was lingering in the interviews longer than necessary, his normally curt answers becoming just a bit more detailed, just for you.

Today was a huge game. Ushijima had led his team to the national finals, and the stadium was electric with excitement. The moment the final whistle blew, signaling their victory, the crowd erupted in cheers. As usual, you waited at the edge of the court, microphone ready, watching as Ushijima and his team celebrated.

When he finally walked over to you, his expression was serious, as always, but there was something different in his eyes—an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You were about to start your routine questions, but before you could even speak, he took the microphone from your hand.

The camera zoomed in on him, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

"I’ve been doing these interviews for a long time now," Ushijima began, his deep voice reverberating through the stadium. "But today is different."

You blinked in confusion, not understanding what was happening. He wasn't supposed to deviate from the usual script. You glanced around nervously, wondering if you should say something, but Ushijima’s gaze was locked onto the camera, focused and determined as always.

He took a step closer to you, his large frame towering over you as he spoke, "For months, I’ve come to these interviews and answered every question. But there's one question no one has asked yet. And I think it's time to answer it."

The crowd had fallen silent, sensing something monumental was about to happen. Your heart was racing, unsure of what he meant. He turned to look at you, and for the first time, there was something warm and tender in his usually stoic expression.

“I’m not just here to play volleyball,” he said softly, his eyes locked on yours. “I’m here because… I’ve fallen in love.”

The words hit you like a spike to the chest, knocking the air out of your lungs. You stared at him, wide-eyed, trying to process what he was saying. The crowd was buzzing with whispers, but Ushijima ignored it all.

Without breaking eye contact, he lifted the microphone again. "And I want the world to know… we’re engaged."

The stadium erupted in gasps and cheers, the cameras zooming in on your shocked expression. You felt heat rush to your face, your heart pounding in your ears. You hadn’t expected this—how could you have? He had never shown any signs, at least not that you had noticed.

Ushijima gently took your hand, and the weight of the situation finally sank in. This wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment declaration. He had been planning this. You looked up at him, your voice barely a whisper as you managed to speak, “Are you serious…?”

He nodded, the corners of his lips curling ever so slightly into a rare, soft smile. “I’ve been serious about you for a long time.”

The crowd’s cheers grew louder, but all you could focus on was the warmth of his hand in yours and the intensity of his gaze. You weren’t sure how it had come to this, but standing there in front of thousands of people, with Ushijima Wakatoshi announcing your engagement to the world… it felt right.

Later, after the initial shock wore off and the cameras had stopped rolling, you stood together in the quiet hallway outside the locker room. It was just the two of you now, and everything felt a little more real.

“You really planned this?” you asked, still trying to wrap your head around what had happened.

He nodded, his usual serious expression softening as he looked at you. “I didn’t want to wait any longer. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

You smiled, shaking your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you kept that a secret.”

Ushijima shrugged, his hand still holding yours. “I didn’t see a reason to tell anyone until now.”

There was something so undeniably Ushijima about that statement, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I guess I’m engaged now,” you teased, glancing down at your hand where an imaginary ring would one day sit.

“Engaged,” he repeated, as if testing the word out himself. His serious demeanor cracked just a little as he added, “And I don’t plan on losing you. Ever.”

In that moment, you realized that this wasn’t just some spontaneous declaration—Ushijima had fallen for you, slowly and steadily, the same way he approached everything in his life. And now, standing there with him, you couldn’t imagine it any other way.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[gffa]

Usually, I like to finish reading a fic before recommending it properly, but I've been sucked into about five different STAR WARS fics recently that I've gotten far enough into that I'm willing to trust my heart to them because they're scratching a very specific itch for me--namely, that I want deeper explorations of both the Jedi Order and of Anakin's character. I want fic to punch me in the feelings over both of these aspects of the story. I want fic to sometimes set Obi-Wan and Anakin aside and focus on Ahsoka for awhile, really tell her story. I want Jedi themes woven into a story. I want an exploration of Anakin's mindset that reminds me of just how much I love him and have sympathy for him. And fandom has delivered for me.

DO YOU WANT FIC TO BLACK OUT TO AND LOSE AN ENTIRE WEEKEND OVER? HAVE I GOT SOME RECS FOR YOU:

✦ Out with Lanterns by SkyeBean, ahsoka & mace & jedi & clones & cast, 312.5k     In another universe, Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Depa Billaba decide a Padawan could do Mace some good. It takes a while, but he eventually agrees. When he takes Ahsoka Tano as his Padawan, Mace knows that he's broken through a Shatterpoint and changed the course of a life. How, he doesn't know.     This fic accomplishes several things that have sent me over the moon: 1) At its heart, it's an Ahsoka fic that shows her growing up as a Padawan, going on missions, learning lessons, and having character growth. 2) It weaves in so many other characters around her, that Mace is there in almost every chapter, serious but warm in the Force, just as beautifully characterized as she is. 3) The other Jedi get their moments of excellents, Shaak taking Ahsoka on her Akul hunt was wonder to read, seeing Obi-Wan show up for a chapter had me over the moon, Adi taking care with Ahsoka was lovely, Depa was a shining star when she took Ahsoka under her wing, Fox growing used to these strange Jedi and growing into himself through Ahsoka's eyes was wonderful. 4) The writing is that kind of solid that I don't mean as mid-tier, but the kind that I feel like can bear weight on it, I can pick it up and read for 30k and barely realize any time has passed, despite that I've gotten through an entire arc of the fic. 5) It does an incredible job of balancing that feel of The Clone Wars show, without directly copying anything, that it's like these are arcs that I could have seen on the show itself, the lessons woven in, but still with enough plot moving forward and action to make it exciting. If you want more Jedi-centric fic in your life (where they don't have to be perfect! sometimes they can be less than perfect and it's okay because they're still good! ohhhh, my heart warmed at that) or you want to read a lovely Ahsoka-centric fic in a different life, but still so recognizably herself, then this is one I want to shove right in your face immediately.

✦ Take it from the top and try again by mauvera, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & padme & mace & dooku & cast, time travel, 116.k wip     Five years into his self imposed exile on Tattooine, Obi-Wan Kenobi is gifted the chance to go back and bring hope back to the galaxy. With hindsight on his side, he fully intends to save his master, save his padawan, make some new and old friends again, prepare the Jedi for a war they’ll hopefully never see and begin to pull apart all the many tangled threads of the Sith Lord’s plans. Should be relatively easy. Right?     I got sucked into the first fic in this series (which is complete, if you want to read it--it's not the end of the story, but it's a good stopping point and feels like it should have some solid resolution if you don't want to get into a wip) and read the first fic over the course of about three days because I was sucked in so thoroughly. I can never get enough of Obi-Wan time traveling back to the past, where he loves the Jedi and they love him, and I love this one because he has to make genuine plans for changing things--things change and I have no idea how that's going to affect Palpatine's machinations! Exciting! But it's also a lovely look at Obi-Wan's dynamics with multiple characters--I found the Obi-Wan & Padme scenes a hightlight personally, their friendship really blossomed as they both flung themselves into trying to better the galaxy, even if she doesn't know he's from the future, that he's working so hard matched a lot of her energy and I really enjoyed that--from Qui-Gon to Mace to Padme to Anakin and, as the sequel progresses, Dooku as well. It's another Jedi-positive fic, it has me invested in the plot, it's a joy to see competent!Obi-Wan, and I would love to shove it at more people.

✦ Post Order 66 Exile AU by Livsy, obi-wan & anakin, 46k (wip-esque)     After a failed order 66, in which many Jedi still died but the Sith were defeated, an exiled warrior and a boy wander a distant planet and attempt to get along.     This is probably the shortest fic on this list but I'm including it because it genuinely felt longer than that, for how dense the emotional intensity of it is. It's an AU where the Jedi barely eked out a victory, still on the edge of extinction in many ways, and Anakin deep in the pits of the dark side, so Obi-Wan takes him to a backwater planet in exile for the both of them, traveling through the countryside and just trying to make it from day to day. What punched me right in the feelings place is that this fic doesn't shy away from the hurt and the anger on both sides, that both of them are allowed to be unreliable narrators that have their own points of view on what's transpired and what lays between them. It doesn't back away from the hurt they both feel, the despair they both feel, yet there's hope here. It's ultimately a story about clawing yourself back from the dark side, and it's beautifully characterized for both of them, that unkind things are said on both of their parts, but you understand why the characters are in the place they are. It's wrapped up in a lushly written backdrop, with some lovely Japanese feudal era details woven in, but also with a Star Wars patina spread across all of it. It's not necessarily a kind fic, but if you like fic that bites down on a wound, I enjoyed this series a lot and would love to see it continued--but, honestly, what's here is already enough resolution that, looking back on it after the initial "Noooooo, I need more!" feeling has faded, I'm actually very satisfied with. ✦ Men of Power by AlabasterInk, obi-wan & anakin & mace & yoda & jedi & palpatine & cast, 86.1k wip     When an old powerful man suddenly comes in and sweeps your underage Padawan away without so much as a by your leave, that’s the time to start asking questions.     I'm only about 20k into this fic, so I can't say what shape it will take later on or how much pairings might come into it, but I still had to come running over to shove this fic at people, because it's scratching the itch I have for Jedi-positive fic that explores the idea of Anakin's trauma from his childhood as a slave, that this is a child who is wound so tight and comes from such a horrible thing having been done to him, having been owned as a person, that I understand why he stays silent on some of the things I desperately wish he could talk about or he doesn't really believe some of the things the Jedi tell him. It's a fic that takes a lot more care with Anakin's character than I think canon ever intended, weaving in a lot of the heartbreaking stuff from Legends' supplementing the canon, and is creating something that punches me right in the feelings place for him, that he's such a bright, brilliant boy, but I see why he struggled and it's not about assigning blame in any direction. It's about deeply caring people who fate has take a few steps to the left and something shifts just a little--and I appreciate that there's something very delicate feeling here, that the Jedi just don't have any real reason to be suspicious of Palpatine, his actions make sense, they genuinely can't feel any ill intention from him in the Force, they discuss why it would make sense that he'd want to support Anakin, all while we the readers can see, in hindsight, where the shadows have been creeping in. If you want Jedi-positive fic that also leaves some teeth marks over Anakin's trauma being explored in a way that is entirely sympathetic to him, then I want to shove this fic at you, too.

[poppy-metal]

need tashi to shove my face into arts ass like i need air

usually not into giving rimming but here i wrote two pieces today about it - i guess in very specific contexts i rock w it.

she probably does it because she knows you like to be involved with everything they do - but sometimes mommy wants to pound daddy's tight little ass and since she knows you're their good little girl, she'll let you help -

"need you to get him ready for my cock," she tells you, petting your head. with the other hand she strokes arts thigh, "you know how big mommy is. need him wet like how your pussy gets."

art is biting his lip hard enough to bleed. hes alot of things. embarrassed to be seen this way by you, but also turned the fuck on because you're his little angel, his babygirl, and the thought of you eating him out - your tongue touching his hole - something so dirty - when tashi fucks him - not even she licks there - something about it beneath her, he thinks - the act submissive in some way, servicing him. you're servicing him and fuck that makes his cock throb painfully where it flags against his stomach, hard and flushed. leaking already.

you nod, your eyes innocent but determined to do this task. to please your mommy and daddy. you look at him next, like you're looking for guidance and he swallows. bites back his shyness about the act - he's eaten his own cum from your asshole, for gods sake - and brings up his legs. reaches down to grab up his testicles so they're not in your way.

"Its okay, baby." he tells you softly, "it feels good."

you blink in wonder at his hole. not a place you've really seen before - hes pink - the muscle a small ring - a tight little furl nestled between his cheeks. tashi rubs the back of your neck, gently guiding you forward.

"remember i need him loose." she tells you, "do a good job for me, baby, and you'll get a nice reward after."

your cunt clenches at that and you eagerly let her press your face between the globes of daddys ass - your nose settles against his taint, the tickle of his balls there - and you gently allow your tongue to press slowly over the twitching muscle.

It twitches under your tongue and arts legs rise up higher. he moans loudly "fuck." already he sounds weepy, like how he does when hes about to cum. tashi is there though, with a tight grip around his base to stave off any orgasms. "oh fuck - "

"does she feel good?" tashi asks, genuinely curious. "she looks like shes really putting the work in there."

you've practicallt unhinhed your jaw to lick at his hole. wide wet swipes of your tongue - swirling over the rim, sucking and kissing around it. letting spit drip down your chin, making it sloppy.

art moans. and tashi rolls her eyes. squeezes his cock. "you have to tell her, art. be a good daddy and tell her how well shes doing."

"you're doing - s-so well, baby - fuck - god, her little tongue - ah -"

you whine into his ass, wanting to rub yourself through your panties but mommy didn't say you could. you lose yourself in the work for a few more minutes before tashi is pulling you back, a string of spit connecting from your lips to arts hole - which is nearly swollwen red now from your attention - slick and shiny.

"oh thats very good. gonna slide right in -" she gives you a warm kiss. "up on the bed now. you're gonna watch mommy fuck daddy and you're going to put on a show for us - okay?"

you nod, eagerly hopping up and yanking off your clothes. laying back on their big bed and spreading your legs, sticky with your juices - reaching down to play idly with your cunt as you watch tashi move art into position, all fours, back arched - daddy is so athletic! - the harness hugging her hips so beautifully. the thick silicone cock hanging off it is one you're intimately familiar with yourself, you know the stretch of it in every one of your holes - and you clench at the phantom feel of it now. biting your lip and rocking against your fingers.

"that's beautiful, pretty girl." tashi tells you, her eyes dark where she watches you touch yourself. she angles her hips behind art and you think shes started to push in, the way art gasps and rocks back against her, his eyes squeezed shut. tashi slides a hand into his hair, yanks his head up so its not hanging down like it was - "look at her, baby. watch our sweet girl play with her pussy for us while i fuck you - dont look away."

having arts gaze on you - intense and hot and pleading- at the place between your thighs. you're so wet it drenches down your wrist when you slide your fingers in.

art groans - "please." he gasps. "please, oh my god -"

tashi strokes a hand down his back as she moves the only way she knows how - unrelenting thrusts that make art sway back and forth with every plunge. "what're you begging for?" she asks, fake sweet as she starts fucking him harder immediately after asking it. "hm? speak."

he shakes his head, cheeks flushing and gasps when tashi brings a hand down on his ass. "wasn't fucking asking."

his fingers grip the sheets, curling into them - "touch my cock - please, i - its too much -"

tashi ignores that for awhile, seems to find an angle that feels good against her clit because she starts moaning softly herself.

they look beautiful together - both of them have bodies that are works of art. powerful and strong. you stop stroking through your slit to just watch - clenching around nothing as they get lost in eachother.

you're too horny for that to sting at the moment, the movement of their bodies hot and searing through your blood. you want to be under art, letting him fuck your throat - shit.

tashi finally reaches down, grips arts bouncing pink cock and tells him, "alright, now. you can cum.." trailing off as she gets lost in her own orgasm - biting her lip as her hips roll into arts ass. rubbing her pussy against the harness.

you watch as thick spurts of white shoot out of arts slit. your mouth waters because you want to lick it up. but you stay where you are - an observer as they both come down from their high.

art slumps on the bed when tashi slowly pulls out, tossing the cock to the side and gathering her husband in her arms. art wraps his arms around her - resting his head against her stomach. his body is gleaming with sweat. breathing still heavy. tashi is looking down at him fondly, scratching at his scalp as she cards her fingers through his blonde locks.

he sighs into her.

you feel bad then - the bad icky feeling starting to rise - of i dont belong here, im an outlier, an outsider, they dont need me when they have eachother, why am i here, i should probably go - but just before the thoughts are about to cloud over you - drag you under - tashi looks up.

and its not a look of surprise like she'd forgotton about you, its a look of tenderness. the soft after glow sex she gets when shes all soft and more expressive. a part of her must recognize the direction your thoughts were going because she purses her lips wryly, jerks her head in a come here motion.

you crawl across the bed to her and art and sit there on your knees, waiting. tashi reaches out, cups your cheek - "im very proud of you." she tells you, and your thighs automatically lock together. "i know it isn't easy for you when we focus on eachother - but you did so well letting mommy and daddy love eachother. and yes, we still want you."

your eyes prick with tears. tashi isn't amazing with words but somehow she always says the right thing when you need it most.

"Im still your baby?" you ask.

art shifts, lifts his head from tashi's belly and you gasp when one of his big arms bands around your waist and drags you down onto his warm chest. "dont ask stupid questions." he says, squeezing you to him, lips at the top of your head.

"what he said," tashi agrees, cards her fingers through your hair now. "how're you feeling. both of you?"

you squirm. the heat between your legs back - but you dont want to be greedy - so you wait for art to answer.

he rubs his hand down your back, cups one of the globes of your ass. "m'good." he sounds like he does in the mornings. relaxed and croaky.

"still hard?" tashi presses with a grin and art flushes.

"...yeah."

when it'd just been her and art his short refractory period and insatiable lust was a chore, mostly. after an orgasm, tashi was beat. done. art had spent alot of nights either taking care of himself after one round or simply forcing himself to go to bed hard.

that wasn't necessary anymore.

"i think our girl has been patient enough, hasn't she." soft fingers stroke down your cheek. "that poor princess cunt must be aching."

you whine. hide your face in arts chest. "mmm" you mumble against his pec, and you feel both his arms come around you now, two hands gripping and squeezing your asscheeks. dragging you closer to his warm body.

"think daddy should take care of that." tashi intones and art groans. hard cock twitching against his stomach, like its seeking your warmth already.

"fuck yes. baby, c'mere. let me - let me feel -" its so easy - for him to move you around. in just a second you're half deagged up his body, and hes reaching down, fitting his hand between your bodies until his fingers and deleving between your slick folds, hot and slick and - "oh you're so wet. oh baby. its okay - im gonna take care of you."

tashi stretches and yawns, her limbs lax and relaxed and sleepy from fucking. she settles on the soft bed, content to watch art roll you over onto your back, fit your body under his - and slide inside you.

you both moan - his body comes down over yours - your lips meeting desperately as your legs lock around his already moving hips. wet slaps fill the air almost immediately, followed by your little whimpers and arts mumbling against your throat. she cant make out what hes saying but shes sure its something ardent and worshipful. she catches tidbits of "love you -" and "feel so good -" and "pretty baby -"

she doesn't feel any jealousy or inadequacy watching her husband make love to you so passionately. just a sense of rightness. closeness. like all the pieces are where they're meant to be. she could watch art ruin you on his cock all day, and know you'll both turn to her when you're done, seeking her like two acolytes do their goddess.

its not such a bad life, really.

[mingi-s-dimples]

You took san home...

pairing: sub until he's not!san x bratty sub!f reader rating: 18+ (MDNI - literal filth)

genre: smut, idol au, established relationship

summary: You ask your boyfriend, San, to keep the blindfold he used to himself after the performance... only to surprise him later.

WC: 2.8k

warnings: idol au, sub until he's not!san (he lets reader top over him for a min), dacryphilia (kinda?), blow job, hand job, oral (m receiving & implied f), choking (both on cock & by hand), pet names (love, babe, baby, Sannie, sweetie) dry humping (edging through clothes), light bondage & sense deprivation (tying wrists f & blindfold m), a lil bit of a size kink ig?, making out (a bit), multiple rounds, multiple orgasms (m&f) & a ruined orgasm (m), overstim, creampies, use of toys (a vibrator), deepthroating, teasing, orgasm control (from where ruined orgasm cause my y/ n was feeling bratty lol I went overboard), fluff (a crumb), aftercare (a crumb-i promise he's a good guy he just wants to go for another round), unprotected (booo, use protection ir| !), completely consensual!, it's straight up filth with a crumb of romance that's all you need to know (filthy love), completely unedited, might edit it later (I'm sure I forgot to mention sth)

Author's note: I love how I wrote this actually! English is not my native language, please excuse any grammatical errors ! It's the first time I've ever written smut (but I love reading it). The story is unedited, I will post it like this for now. Might do a part 2 with y/n getting eaten out, what do y'all think 👹

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

You should've seen it coming, as soon as you found out they're going on a new tour. How all of his fans would scream for him, how the cameras follow him all around the venue. Even though you were his girlfriend, you still felt a little jealous of all the atinys that got to see him like that, performing with all his power and passion. When you first found out that one of your favourite songs - and performances - take me home, was on their setlist, even though you were aware of the fact that the song had pretty much...sad lyrics, the performance was insane. He barely let you attend the concert, thinking he was going to get distracted. But you begged and begged and told him you'd be a good girl, so he let you. But, before you left to the venue by yourself to blend in, you had a talk with your boyfriend.

"Babe, can I ask you for a favor? I promise it's nothing too big." you stopped San right as he was leaving to the venue, looking at him with puppy eyes.

"Of course, darling, what is it?" he said, looking softly in your eyes.

"You see, I want you to keep the white silky blindfold...to yourself...when you finish the concert. Could you do that for me, please?"

"Hm...what do you want to do with it, babe? Should I be curious?" San said caressing your cheek.

"No, no, not yet ! I promise you'll enjoy it, don't you trust me?"

"Okay babe, I'll take it with me. See you at our hotel after the concert? I'll wait for you there after you enjoy your time as....a simple fan, in the crowd" he whispered, sending soft shivers down your spine.

You blew a kiss to him and, as soon as he left for the venue, a lot earlier than the concert, you went to your room to prepare yourself for the performance.

"Hmm, this will do" you said while looking in the mirror placed right in front of your bed. A nice, tight silk dress, flowing beautifully down your curves. It was a pretty short one, too, but you knew how jealous San would get over it...and also how much he liked it. Only thinking about this turned you on a bit, knowing how good he'll fuck you dumb tonight, after your little game. You knew he would let you dom over him for your own sake...and when you were done with it... he'd destroy you.

_________________________________________

"Yo, guys, the concert was fucking incredible! Y'all were so good!" you addressed the praise to the other members, after you sneaked in the back.

"Thank you, y/n, the atmosphere was really nice! All our fans were so excited to see us!" said Hongjoong, smiling softly, approaching you slowly to give you a warm hug.

"Where is San, though? I haven't seen him anywhere." you asked, confused.

"Ah, he already left, he's on his way to the hotel. Didn't y'all need to meet or something? He was pretty secretive about it." said Wooyoung, looking you up and down, to find the meaning behind your outfit. "Heh, you dressed like this just for him, hm? I bet he doesn't know you're wearing this. I mean, he wouldn't have let you leave like that, in the first place" he said teasingly, with a smirk on his face.

"Please, don't tire him too much....we have some promotions tomorrow.." Wooyoung whispered, making you flinch and curse him out.

"Oh for fucks sake, shut up."

---

"Can anyone give me a ride? It's too late to go alone"

"Yup, see you at the car" said Yeosang, while looking around for his keys.

---

"Y/n, have fun" he said smiling at you, giving you the look.

"Oh cmon, you and Wooyoung...though, thanks for driving me, I owe you one" you said right before shutting the door.

_________________________________________

While you were in the elevator, all of the filthy thoughts started filling your mind. Would San agree to it? Would he actually like it? Or would he punish you...all of these thoughts were going straight to your pussy, as your arousal was pooling in your lace panties.

You knocked on the door. Nothing.

You knocked again, this time hearing your boyfriend murmuring something, and then some steps were coming towards the door.

As he opened the door for you...his jaw dropped. He was scanning you from toe to head...his gaze darkening upon seeing your dress.

"Hi, babe" you said teasingly, looking him in the eyes. Your left hand was resting on his cheek, stroking him slowly. "What do you think..of my dress?"

"Oh babe..I'll show you what I think about it" he said and you didn't even have time to react. He planted a kiss on your lips, aggressively, interlocking his tongue with yours. The only sounds you could hear was the lewd ones you were making. You wanted to much more, so you pushed yourself in his grip. He closed the door behind you and took you to your bed. His hands were tracing you entire body...going from your neck, where he planted soft, sloppy kisses...to your waist, and to your ass. He lifted your short silky dress only to be welcomed by the wet spot between your thighs. You flinched, as he touched you through the fabric. The friction between your panties and his two fingers were driving you insane...you were squirming over his hand, trying to get more. As your arousal started to drip on your thighs, through the thin cloth, San pushed you on the bed, to watch everything.

As he was approaching you fiercely, you stopped him with you leg.

"Nu-uh, babe. I told you I had something prepared for you tonight...after that..you can fuck me how you like" I said, teasingly, pressing my foot on his chest.

"Goddam y/n, making me wait like that? Fine, I'll let you. After all, you got me so fucking turned on, you won't be able to walk tomorrow." he said, searching the white lacey blindfold in his back pocket. Just seeing him like that...made you thirsty for more. You, basically undressed, dripping from your cunt on the sheets. Him? fully dressed, a few of his buttons ripped out. While he handed you the cloth you've been waiting all along, he looked at you a bit confused.

"What are we doing with this babe? It's barely going to tie you up or something..." he said, tracing your wrists.

"Oh babe, only if you'd knew...Please, could you lay on your back? Let me try this once..pretty please?" you said, looking at him with puppy eyes.

--

As he laid on his back, you told him promptly to keep his hands to himself and, as you tied the blindfold to his eyes, he smiled, not knowing what you were going to do to him.

A moment later, he feels you getting off the bed. He stands up to lean against the headboard, while trying to see what's happening, through the blindfold. He hears you rumbling through your suitcase, and gave you a confused, yet excited look.

"So...babe. I thought about something...how should I say this?" you said, walking towards him. You gave him the item you've been searching for.

"Damn, babe, is this a vibrator? What do you want to use it for?" he said while feeling it in his hands.

"Hm...well, you know how I told you I'd want to fulfill one of my little fantasies...right? Today...I was so excited for the performance where you used your blindfold that I couldn't wait to get back to the hotel...brace yourself, baby." you said softly, while taking the toy from his hands. You then turned it on, on the 2nd slowest speed, and then put it right on your boyfriend's hardening cock, through his jeans. He squirmed at the sensation, letting out a soft moan.

"W-what are y-you doing?" he muffled, trying to get a grip of himself.

"Oh, babe, I'm playing with you now...I can't wait to see your reaction... now." and you turned the speed faster, moving it up and down along the length that was forming an enormous bulge in his pants. His cock, already leaking with pre cum, twitched with every move of yours. Drops of sweat were dripping off his face, his eyebrows frowning every time the vibrator touched his tip through the clothes. He was so out of it, pre cum staining his pants.

"B-babe, I don't think I will last much l-longer" he said through his whimpers.

"Nu-uh, Sannie. You'll have to wait until I let you cum." you said confidently, while turning off the toy. He squirmed in defeat, trying to get some friction within the sheets.

“Oh my, you look so cute like this. All worked up and disappointed of your ruined orgasm. Do you want to cum, babe? Tell me.”

“Yes, love, please, p-please-” he said, breathing heavily. “Please, I’ll be good to you”

“What if….I don’t want you to be good to me after all of this..? Don’t you wann punish your bratty girlfriend? hm?”

“Oh and how much I’d like that….but please…let me cum, I was so fucking close!” he said angrily, squirming under you”

“Okay babe, we’ll see about that”

–

You started to unbutton his jeans, admiring the art you just made. His pants stained with pre cum, his hard angry cock straining painfully against the zipper. You wanted to free him of all of that..but not yet. You only took his pants halfway off, to have a better look at his boxers. Then, you turned on the toy again and put it against his leaking tip through the cloth, receiving a nice shiver from him. It took you only a few moments of edging his tip until he started whimpering again, letting you know that he was close to his high.

“Sannie, cum.” you ordered, as your boyfriend squirmed under the pressure of your hand fondling with the base of his cock, him trembling from the friction. As soon as you pressed his tip again with the highest speed, he let out a loud moan, and, as his cock started twitching, the tip slightly got out of his boxers, strands of translucent, silky white cum covering his abs. Still touching him with the vibrator on the lowest speed, you waited until he finished completely wore off his high and then turned it off. You then climbed on him, just sitting on his abs, the cold feeling of his cum sticking to your thighs forming, yet again, a sloppy pool between your folds.

“So…babe. How was it? I enjoyed the view of you begging me to let you cum” you let out a soft chuckle, as you untied the blindfold.

“Oh, my god. This was fucking incredible, babe. I never felt like this before…I don’t know what to say. I enjoyed it but..love…how much you annoyed me by fucking up with my orgasm. Not nice of you at all, sweetie.” he said, while he manhandled you on your back, so fast that you didn’t even realise. “But now, babe, is my turn. I gotta admit, your game was…incredible, but now you gotta brace yourself.” he said, as he tied your hands to the headboard with his belt.

“W-what when did you get it?” you said horrified at the thought of you being tied up….but it only turned you on more.

“Cmon babe, relax yourself, the night just started. Your punishment is yet to come* he said, with a soft smirk on his face.

Then, he went down right to your dripping cunt, using two fingers to touch the damp cloth. You moaned in pleasure, squirming under the pressure of his fingers, trying to get more friction. He moved your panty to the side, to have a better look. He went right in, curling his two fingers right into your sweet spot. As you felt a tingling sensation in your cunt, you started whimpering for more. He knew what it meant, so he inserted another finger. You let your head drop in pleasure and surprise, at how his fingers filled you so good. Yet, you felt so empty. You wanted his dick inside you, destroying your insides.

“B-babe, p-please. Fuck me.”

“I-i, I need your cock in me”

“Oh babe…how needy are you today, don't you think?” he then approached your cunt with the vibrator you used on him earlier, not thinking much of it until he turned it on. You let out a moan of pleasure, while he was still fingering you. His thumb and toy on your clit, moving it in circles.

You felt how the knot in your belly started getting tighter and tighter, you felt how you were about to cum. But he didn’t let you, yet.

He took his pants off completely and with one hand on your neck choking and muffling your moans, he tapped his again hardened cock on your folds, then went right in. You couldn't make a sound, getting dizzy from being choked by his hand. You could feel his rings imprinting into your flesh. Trying to say something, he released his grip on your neck and went right for your hardened nipple. As he was lazily pounding into you, he admired how your chest rose up with each of his every thrust, slowly getting deeper and faster. When he bottomed down, you both left out a moan at the same time, tears falling down your face. You loved how good your boyfriend was always filling you up, how well he was stretching you out. It always hurt, but you loved pain as it felt like pleasure to you. Then he started rapidly pounding into you, hitting your g-spot, while one of his hands was fondling with your nipple, his other hand pressing circles on your clit.

“S-sannie, I'm c-close” you said, and right after that you got pulled deeper, the friction from your folds to the base of his cock making you throw your head back in pleasure.

As soon as he heard you, he started pumping deeply into you, angrily, and within a few more thrusts, you could feel the knot in your belly unfold, seeing stars as you came down from your high. Your boyfriend, though, had other plans. As soon as you wore off your high, he put you on all fours and took your hair into a slight ponytail, guiding you to his cock.

“Oh babe, how I've been waiting for this. You know, I let you cum, I've been a good boy to you. But I haven't yet…so you gotta help me with that” he said with a smirk on his face, looking into your eyes as he promptly slapped the tip of his hard, big girthy cock on your lips. He then signaled you to open your mouth, to which you obeyed. He put it in slowly, letting you to adjust to his size and then bottomed out.

You could feel how his dick was touching the back of your throat, tears swelling in your eyes. As he wiped the falling tears off your cheek, he let you stay for a second like that until he raised his eyebrows. You knew you needed to start sucking like your life depended on it. And as you started licking his length, pressing your tongue to his tip and also brushing your hand against the base of his cock, you could feel him twitch in your mouth, with every touch of your tongue. The corners of your mouth were definitely stinging a bit, his girthy cock always stretching your everything. He let you do it at first, at your own pace, but he felt it was too slow and not rough enough. So he took your hair into his right hand and started fucking your throat, tears swelling in the corner of your eyes, feeling dizzy from the lack of oxigen. He didn't last long, as after a few more deep thrusts into your throat he came right there, slowing his pace to let you swallow his load. You felt like he came endlessly, your throat and mouth getting filled with his cum.

After he made sure you swallowed everything, he let you fall on your back, him laying right besides you. He gave you soft kisses on your forehead, cheek and then on your collarbone. He then got up to get a towel and get you cleaned up, only for his next words to be…

“Babe, I'm not done yet. Prep yourself for another round. This time, you’re getting eaten out.” he said, smiling at you, knowing by the expression on your face that you couldn't wait any longer.

[beyondfabric]

Introducing: Mr. Archive

What better way to kickstart 2024 than with one the most beautifully curated, styled and fair-priced vintage stores out there?

Mr. Archive has been one of my go-to places the last few months, be it for visual inspiration on their instagram profile or the browse some of the most interesting pieces around. To be fair, after 15 years of working in this industry is getting more and more difficult for me to find garments and brands that are truly exciting and fresh. If on top of that we take into account the price point of some of these labels, many of which produce in Portugal with accessible costs, my enthusiasm dims even further.

I’ve always been passionate about the universe of vintage and pre worn garments, but this love has been fueled in recent years by the appearance of highly specialized shops that seem to be perfectly in tune with my personal style. I’ve had the chance to chat with Matteo, the mastermind behind Mr. Archive to learn more about this outstanding project.

BF: I came across Mr. Archive fairly recently and I must say that it definitely hit a soft spot within the range of vintage providers currently on my radar. How long have you been in business? What drove you to create it?

Matteo: I'm passionate about my job, believe I have a somewhat general knowledge of the fashion world, but about 4 years ago, I got fascinated by this industry, even though I already knew it. I come from a family that has always worked in the clothing industry.

BF: For me, your selection is perfectly curated, bringing a mix of military and navy-inspired garments, with a twist of Americana. Is this an extension of your own style and taste, or is it more business-oriented?

Matteo: What I propose is all based on my personal taste; I create outfits on the spot, drawing inspiration from magazines, newspapers, etc., and then I elaborate and create. My mom is an artist, and I think I took inspiration from her.

BF: Vintage has always inspired me ever since I got into fashion roughly 15 years ago. There's just something distinctive about the fabrics and the history behind each garment that you can not replicate with new items. How/where do you source your amazing selection?

Matteo: My pieces come from warehouses worldwide; I'm constantly looking for new things, and that's the wonderful thing about my job! I have strong trust in my suppliers!

BF: With sustainability being the word of order when it comes to fashion, have you noticed an increase in demand for pre-owned garments? Do you think part of the solution can be provided by vintage?

Matteo: Recently, there has been an increase in the purchase of vintage and second-hand clothing items. To be honest, I believe that a few years ago, not many people knew about this world, but now it's expanding and captivating even those who knew little about it.

BF: I noticed you have a small capsule of garments carrying your own label, namely selvedge denim and accessories. What's the story behind those? Can we expect more designs in the future?

Matteo: I won't deny that creating my own clothing line would be a great personal satisfaction, a significant growth. I recently created a small line, "MRARCHIVE," currently composed of jackets, pants, and hats. One day, I'd like to expand, but I still have much to learn and study.

BF: Any tips or advice you wish to leave for those more reluctant to explore the world of previously owned items? It's still somewhat taboo for some people.

For many people, this world is still a taboo; they're still stuck in the thought of "they're used clothes." What I think is that one should see the story and originality behind each piece to appreciate its value, both from a historical and an aesthetic perspective. Sometimes, I compare some clothing items to paintings—they should be framed.

You can find Mr. Archive here.

[sanguineterrain]

What about a Jason x Reader drabble where they were close friends before he died and they reunite years later, changed and burdened but still equally fond of each other? I know you could write that beautifully heartbreakingly or on the contrary, very softly and warmly :)

oh, you *debby ryan hair tuck* you nonnies flatter me 🥰 thanks for requesting! please heed the warnings, this one is technically a happy ending but it's a heavy one!

jason todd x gn!reader. tw: reader doesn't know what's real, reader thinks they're dreaming and tries to jump off a railing (but they're okay), grief, angst, jason coming back from the dead, emotional hurt/comfort.

I rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary | requests are still open

****

He's on your terrace.

You walk forward, and Jason promptly puts distance between you. He looks stricken, like he's looking at a ghost.

He's not the Jason you usually see in these dreams. This Jason is what could've been.

This Jason is saved.

"Hi, Jason," you say. "Jaybird. Robin."

Jason exhales like you've punched him. He's dressed differently than he usually is in your dreams. Usually, he's in his Robin suit. Sometimes he's in his funeral suit, and his face is battered, and his bones jut out at odd angles. And he looks at you with hollowed out eyes and asks why you killed him, over and over.

"You look different," you say.

Jason huffs. It sounds wet. With blood or tears, you're not sure. It's always one or the other in your dreams.

"Yeah," he says, and God, even his voice is different than usual. When he begs you to finish the job. When he hurls blame at you.

You deserve it. You're not sure you can take it from this version of him, though. You're trying to remember where you saw a man with Jason's face that your brain used to conjure up this twisted dream.

"I think I'll jump this time," you say, gazing at the terrace railing behind him.

Jason flinches, eyes wide. "What? Don't do that."

You hum. "'S okay, Jay. I love seeing you, but I've been terribly tired this week. I don't want to watch you die again. I'd rather wake up."

He makes a small, wounded noise.

"God, what did I do to you?" he asks.

"It's alright," you say. If Jason starts to panic, the nightmares will come. And it's cruel now, seeing Jason like this, seeing what could've been. But at least he's not dead. Yet.

You start to move to the terrace. You want the dream to end.

Jason steps in front of you. His face is young, probably your age, but his body is older, powerful. His muscles are nearly the size of your head. He's so healthy and strong tonight.

"You're... you're so big," you whisper, marveling over his height and bulk.

Jason had been lithe and small when you knew him. You were certain he'd turn out like Dick, and you suggested learning gymnastics.

Jason would grumble at that, but you knew he adored it whenever Dick gave him the time of day.

He hunches now, acutely aware of his size. His knees are bent slightly, and his hands are clasped together, like he's trying not to tower over you.

The thought makes you ache. Does Jason think you're afraid of him?

"Don't jump," he says firmly.

"Okay," you say. You'll do it when he's distracted. The dream will take a turn soon.

You step forward again, arms falling open. Jason was never one for hugs, but surely he'd make an exception this time, right? You haven't seen him in so long.

But Jason steps back. You stop.

"Jason," you say, voice small. "I don't get to see you much. Will you hug me?"

"I..." The word is weak in his throat. His voice is different. Deeper. Rougher. You think about him screaming, and you shake your head to dismiss that thought.

Jason swallows. "I came back wrong."

"No, you didn't," you say. "It's never wrong if you came back."

He winces. "It is. I am. I'm... You've got a good thing going. A good life. You're goin' to college and everything. I-I shouldn't have come here."

"No, Jason, you won't ruin anything. I'm glad you're here. Please let me touch you. I've missed you so much," you beg, slightly hysterical.

You step forward again. This time, Jason doesn't move away. He lets you trace his sharp jaw, his cheeks. Green eyes bore into you. That's weird. His eyes were blue. As blue as Bruce's.

Oh, well. Your brain must be using details from whoever you saw that resembled Jason.

"This is nice," you say, and finally wrap your arms around him.

A beat passes, and then Jason hugs you back. His embrace is careful, and it's almost funny, the thought of Jason needing to be delicate with you. You don't laugh, though. You're too tired for that.

"Okay," you say, because you have a feeling things are going to turn dark. That you'll pull back and find that you've been hugging a corpse.

The cold railing digs into your spine. You smile at Jason.

"It was good to see you," you say.

And then you fall.

You wait for the drop in your stomach, to jerk awake in your bed.

Instead, Jason lunges after you and hauls you back onto the terrace. He's shaking. A breeze blows gently and ruffles his hair.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he shouts.

His arms are tight around your waist. Your heart starts to pound.

"You caught me," you say. Your brain feels like sludge. "You never catch me."

Jason moans like he's mourning. Like you're the one who died and came back to haunt him.

"God, I'm so sorry," he says, choked. "Fuck, I am so fucking sorry. I should've stayed dead."

"No," you say softly. "No. This isn't real. You're not real."

"I am, sweetheart. I—"

"No," you say again, panic rising. "You're not real. Jason Todd is dead."

Jason takes your hand and places it on his chest. His heart beats. You scream.

"Shh, it's alright," he says, tears running down his cheeks. "It's okay, it's okay—"

"You died, you died! I killed you, I killed you!" you scream, pushing at his chest. "I killed you!"

"You didn't kill me. Please, listen to me. It's-it's okay." He pulls you into his chest and tries to keep you still. You thrash, but Jason just holds you, crying into your shoulder.

"No, no, no, not again, don't leave me again," you yell, voice cracked with grief. "Not again, I can't survive losing you again. Let me wake up, wake up!"

"You're awake. I'm here. I'm here. I'm alive. Hold me. Prove that I'm real."

You squeeze him as hard as you can. You rake your nails down his neck, trying to make him disappear. Jason just hugs you tighter.

"Am I dead?" you ask, and Jason gasps.

"No, you're alive. We're both alive. Okay? Okay? Say it. Tell me I'm alive."

"You're alive," you say. "You're alive. I'm alive."

He nods and buries his nose in your neck. You grab handfuls of his shoulders, ready to wake up any second. Maybe you can take him back with you.

"Jason Todd is alive," you say, and hope to God you'll wake up to that being true.

[pacifymebby]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do a HC of the peaky blinders men having a lover who sings, like they sing so beautifully, and they like sing privately to the boys like love songs to them or a song they made up while slow dancing with them in a room (omfg that would be cute!) Thanks!! Hope your day goes well!! 💜

Aw this is so sweet <3

Warnings: nsfw in some places

Tommy

🌿He heard you singing before he heard you speaking. He was stood behind you in the queue at the bakery and you were singing to yourself under your breath.

🌿Even though you were only singing quietly he could already tell you were a good singer, that he'd like to hear you singing properly.

🌿 So he leant down and spoke quietly to you, "sing a little louder love, shame to waste such a pretty song by keeping it to yourself..."

🌿 Naturally you hushed up pretty sharpish, turning with a little gasp, a blush flourishing on your cheeks. You even apologised upon seeing who it was you'd disturbed with your little song...

🌿But he just chuckles and asks you again, "No I mean it, I you have a lovely voice, I'd like to hear a little more..."

🌿Then you're really blushing because this is Tommy Shelby you're talking to and he's asking you to sing for him in the middle of the bakery, and no one refuses him when he asks for something...

🌿 So you do, because you have to. You're trembling with nerves when you begin to sing a little louder, and you feel the eyes of other people in the shop watching you. You know that impromptu singing isn't exactly normal for a Thursday morning...

🌿 But its Tommys eyes on you that are doing the most damage. He's watching you so intensely.

🌿And when you finish your song, trailing off because your nerves have caught up to you and you feel ridiculous - which you tell him - he just takes your hands, tells you you're shaking, and then tells you again that your voice is beautiful.

🌿He pays for your shopping as a thank you and you expect never to see him again however that isnt the case and you seem to see him more often than ever. Its like he's searching you out...

🌿And he is... After hearing you sing for the first time he's obsessed with you, he thinks you've the most pure and angelic voice... It soothed him, calmed him when he needed to be brought back down to earth and he's determined to get close to you, have you all to himself.

🌿And naturally Tommy gets what he wants, he always does. He goes to the bakery at least once a day, always vague about why he's there, never lying about it because he isn't embarrassed or ashamed of that kind of thing. His determination has always been a strong point.

🌿 "In here a lot lately Tommy, and you don't have a sweet tooth in you..." "No, no you're right Sammy I don't... I'm just looking for someone, figure they do have a sweet tooth," shoots the baker boy a knowing half smile, like they're sharing an in joke, because he knows that being friendly with this lad will get him the information he wants.

🌿"Comes in first thing Saturday mornin and first thing Mondays too, sometimes shes in on a Wednesday for bread flour..."

🌿 So the next Saturday morning he's there bright and early and he finds himself in the queue behind you again, but today you know hes there and youre shy and embarassed remembering what happened last time... So you're not singing.

🌿And Tommys very dissapointed. "Quiet this morning little bird," he muses quietly, leaning down behind you, talking right beside your ear, making you jump and blush when you turn around startled by him. He enjoys seeing you startled and made shy by him, if he's being honest he really likes the sight of that, but he apoligises to you anyway, ever the gentlemen and he just like that he tells you he needs someone for a job, he needs a singer... See his little boy has these terrible nightmares since his mother died and well, he needs someone to come and sing to him at night, help him sleep.

🌿"The money'd be good I promise, don't sound like a real job I know but it'd pay like a real job... Better than a real job..."

🌿And how can you refuse when a man tells you his motherless little one isn't sleeping. So you don't even think about the money, completely taken in by Tommys little white lime. Because its Tommy who needs singing to, Tommy who's getting those horrid nightmares...

🌿You start visiting every couple of days, in the evenings for an hour or two, singing littlw Charlie to sleep whilst his father sits over his crib, stroking his hair. You realise that this must be a side to him Tommy doesnt let anyone else see. You start to see him as someone with vulnerabilities, with a tender side, capable of love. Something you've always been told Thomas Shelby is incapable of.

🌿And as time passes you start to realise that it isn't Charlie who struggles to sleep, that its Tommy. And so as time passes you start staying later, pretending you cant tell Charlie's settled, singing until Tommy has fallen asleep too. Sometimes you're there all night singing and then falling asleep ib your chair at the end of Charlies bed, because its too late to walk home alone.

🌿Things between you and Tommy took a long time to blossom but by the time they did you already felt like you knew him so well.

🌿Tommy is the one who brings your confidence out, always telling you how beautiful your voice is, how lovely it is to hear you sing. How you should be singing for people all the time. Before Tommy you didn't really sing for other people but now he's built you up to a place where you're not affraid to sing for others. In fact you often enjoy it.

🌿The night he kissed you for the first time it was late, Charlie had drifted to sleep and you were doing your usual, pretending not to have noticed, keeping up your singing until Tommy drifted off too.

🌿But Tommy had been watching you, tormented by these increasingly affectionate thoughts he'd been having whenever you were around. And he decided to do something that night.

🌿"y/n love, c'mere," he said, he looked sleepy and you were tired too, "Cmon come here, Charlies asleep and you look so lovely tonight, let me dance with you?"

🌿You were shocked but you were secretly thrilled because over the weeks you'd been visiting little Charlie you'd found yourself growing increasingly soft on Tommy. Perhaps it was that tender side you'd been seeing, that no one else saw, but he made you feel all kinds of happy whenever he was around. Everything felt sweeter, warmer, better.

🌿And although you were still shy when his serious eyes fixed on you and you felt him studying you, you had to admit that it thrilled you to be the center of his attention. And lately youd been wondering how it would feel to be held by him. To have him stroke your hair from your face. To have him look at you with that intensity, but from close up instead of from the otherside of the room.

🌿So you did as he asked and you crossed the bedroom floor to him. You gave him your hands and he held your fingers delicately. And when he stood up his hands moved to your waist, smoothing down the fabric of your dress gently, holding your hips.

🌿You didn't know what to do with your hands so he placed them for you, one on his shoulder, one palm flat against his chest.

🌿"Now," he said, "we need music..." he gave you a teasing, knowing smirk, "sing me something sweet angel, somet as sweet as you eh?"

🌿The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife but it was good tension. The atmosphere close and warm, the two of you gentle and sleepy and soft with one another. You felt so shy you has to close your eyes when you began to sing your favourite slow song, one which was really an old scottish lullaby but which could be danced to slowly too.

🌿"Good girl," Tommy lets out a little sigh, kissing your forehead, beginning to dance you slowly, rocking you. When his lips brush your cheek you open your eyes, look up at him like a doe in the headlights. You've thought about what it would be like to be kissed by him too but this is nothing like anything you could have ever imagined.

🌿Him telling you your songs beautiful as he leans in to kiss you on the lips, your mouths meeting and the two of you suddenly realising that this was something you should have done much much sooner.

🌿And when the kiss deepened and the two of you felt the moment heating up, the swell of need for him, and his for you, almost catching you both by surprise, he lifted you up off your feet and carried you to his bedroom.

🌿Now naturally, you'd stopped singing, your mouth a little occupied... However as he dips to kiss your neck, your collar bones and your chest, as he begins to undress you carefully, delicately, he asks you not to stop singing.

🌿"Keep singing angel," he murmurs to you between kisses, and he keeps repeating himself, even when youre undressing him, even when hes lifted you up off your feet and your legs are wrapped around him. Even as he slips into your for the first time, taking it slow and gentle, yoir voice shaking, your melody interrupted by your breath catching in your throat as he pushed into you slowly...

🌿He'll sing to you too sometimes and he has a far lovelier voice than you imagined he would. His voice is low and just a little rusty/misty sounding. It has that sweet woody tone to it. He'll sing to you when you're sad or scared.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie didn't know you could sing for a long time. It was something which, he'd always imagined you probably could do, because your low voice was always so sweet and resonant even when you spoke, but when he overhears you singing he has to say, he's surprised.

🐻And it niggles at him too, he's almost a little annoyed you've never sang to him, you don't even sing around him, not even in the evenings when he's got the wireless on.

🐻 He probably gets a bit grumpy about it as if he thinks youve been keeping your beautiful singing a secret from him on purpose.

🐻 But in reality you're just shy, and you don't think you do have a beautiful singing voice. You definitely don't think its beautiful enough to warrant singing for other people as if you believe yourself to be something special...

🐻 But Alfie stands just the otherside of the kitchen doorway listening to you sing as you kneed your bread dough. Thinks your voice is the most enchanting sound he's ever heard and he loves it.

🐻 Pretends not to like it, just to tease you, he comes into the kitchen behind you, grumbling and chuntering away. "Now whats all this racket then, whats all this... This noise bloody awful noise right keepin me awake..." but he can't keep his trick up for very long at all, not when you look mortified, wide eyes and imediately apologising over and over.

🐻He has to laugh, he can't believe you believe him for a start. But he feels guilty for teasing you and immediately opens his arms up to you, hugs you and kisses your cheek.

🐻"I'm only teasing zieskiet, obviously I'm only teasing you... As a matter of fact yeah, your little song you were singing just now, well, as a matter of fact my dear that was the most beautiful little song my fussy old ears, have ever been fuckin blessed to hear..."

🐻 Alfie thinks your voice is so inspiring, and he's a lover of music himself, a lover of the arts, he always tells you you should be singing on stages, in operas, for an audience with the knowledge, the cultured palette to appreciate you.

🐻You're his muse when he starts writing his opera, in fact your voice alone is half the reason he has for trying to write it in the first place. He wants to write an opera fittinf of youe glorious voice. But whenever he asks you to sing for him, whenever he asks you to inspire him, you just get shy and you try to hide away.

🐻And you always tease him to, reminding him, "I thought my singing was just a bloody great racket..." you'll refuse to sing for him just to watch him get grumpy and grumbly and then you'll giggle and sing for him running your fingers through his hair or his beards.

🐻 And you'll sing little love songs, tell him you wrote them for him and he'll get a little embarassed. "Don't know what you're wasting your time writing songs about me for zieskiet... Just an old man..." "My old man..."

🐻 He writes arias for you to sing and tries to get you to sing for other people but you won't do it. Your voice is something you trust only Alfie with, and he grows comfortable with that, begins to feel like he wouldn't want it any other way. Your voice is this precious secret that you share, something so precious you'll only give it to him.

🐻 Calls for you to come sit in his lap when its late and hes just come home from the office or that late night business that always sees him come home with blood on his hands. He sits himself down at the kitchen table or in his big armchair by the fire and he calls for you to come to him.

🐻 "Zieskiet my precious angel come sit down with your old man, it's been a fuckin godless day and he's tired..." and you go to him, let him pull you down into his lap, let him bundle you up in his arms, kiss you and growl into your neck. Running his hands over your waist, squeezing you possesively.

🐻 Holds your face in his hands and looks up at you, into your eyes with his own, which are so cold and steely for everyone but you. For you theyre molten, soft and dark and full of adoration.

🐻 "Sing me a song zieskiet, one with a sad little story right? One where the hero dies somet tragic yeah... Will you do that for your old man yeah, sing him a nice fuckin tragedy?"

🐻 Because he's a strange eccentric he will absolutely send Ollie or someone running half way across the city to find you having been told its an emergency, a serious fuckin emergency.

🐻 And when you get to the office Alfies just frowning, "Ah zieskiet, poppet thank the heavens you are here... Finally..." "What is it Alf, whats the matter?" "Ive tuned in and out of this bloody wireless yeah, and I've searched this whole bloody box of records yeah, ain't any fuckin music anywhere to be found..."

🐻 He really scared you half to death, had you running across the city with Ollie, just so you could sing him his favourite song.

Arthur

🍂 You've never really thought of yourself as particularly musically gifted and you don't really think your voice is anything special, however you love to sing and sing all the time. You adore music, you use it for emotional regulation, you hate to sit in silence. You hum when youre nervous, when you're happy, when you're sad you listen to sad songs and you sing along and pretend that your pain is just as bad as the pain of the man singing about his dead love.

🍂 And its something Arthurs always loved about you. How you're always singing, how you brighten a room with your good mood and your happy humming. How when things get tense and the kids need soothing and distracting, you're there to sooth them with a little song.

🍂 You teach Johns kids and Charlie and Ruby little songs, nursery rhymes, or songs to learn the alphabet and how to count. Songs to learn the days and the months. Arthur loves how you have a song for everything.

🍂 Its just something that makes you so different from everyone else in his life. You're so sweet and goodhearted and you're never too serious and your singing puts him at ease. He loves to listen to you and it always leaves him feeling warm and good inside when you sing.

🍂 When hes stressed out he'll ask you to sing for him and thats the only time you ever feel self concious, when he asks you to sing just for him and you can tell that hes depending on you for something. Then you question whether you're really good enough at singing... Because you know he'll actually be listening and expecting to hear something beautiful.

🍂 He likes to share a bath with you, share some wine, share some snow and then have you sing whilst you massage his shoulders. Loves when you wash his hair and sing for him, when you sing soft and low and sweetly in his ear, just for him. It makes him feel so safe and pure.

🍂 You sing to him to calm him when he's struggling to come down from one of those raging adrenaline rushes triggered by his PTSD. When hes having flashbacks you sing to him and hold his hand, kiss his temple. It helps to keep him grounded, helps him to stay on this plain in this reality instead of getting lost in a bad memory.

🍂You sing to him when youre cleaning his wounds, when youre washing other men's blood from his hands, scrubbing his nails and singing soothing little songs to calm him, to let him know you still love him, still think he deserves to be sung to. To be treated like a human.

🍂 He has favourite songs he'll ask for. And sometimes if youre singing and he doesn't feel like the kids are grateful enough that you sing to them he'll tell them to hush up and listen to you, "Dont know how lucky you are gettin to hear your aunty y/n sing for you like that, other kids would kill to have someone so beautiful singin to them!"

🍂Actually can get grumpy if he doesn't think other people appreciate your singing enough.

John

🌼 Is such a git and teases you relentless about your singing because you sing to yourself all the time.

🌼 "eh up that crazy lass from Watery Lanes singin to herself again, what a looney..." he's only joking but he doesn't know when a jokes stopped being funny, or that hes taking the joke too far.

🌼 Doesn't realise you think he's being serious or at least means it a little bit when he says its embarassing the way you wander round singing to yourself all the time, "whole of Birminghams gonna think you're losing the plot flower, gonna think you've gone nuts..."

🌼 So after awhile his jokes get to you and you take his thoughtless teasing to heart. You stop singing, or you try anyway. Its an old habbit and it dies hard and slow, so slow that John doesn't notice how you're singing less and less, or how sometimes you'll be singing to yourself but you'll stop just as he walks into a room.

🌼 Basically he's oblivious to the damage hes done until its too late and you really have stopped singing completely. Now you don't even really sing to yourself and its his fault...

🌼 Then one day he realises how quiet it is, how quiet you are and he gets upset, suddenly really worried for you.

🌼 "Y/N lass whats going on eh? You're upset or somets happened? Am not stupid I can tell..." but he is stupid, hes a stupid fuckin dinlow because even now he doesnt realise whats really the matter. When you tell him nothing is wrong, that everythings fine he argues back and says

🌼 "No, nah somethings not right flower, you don't sing anymore or anything, you're so quiet..."

🌼 You look at him, a little bit confused, a little bit wounded. "Thought you didn't like my singin...why do you care if I don't sing anymore?" you sound more sullen than you think you do and suddenly John knows exactly why you've stopped singing and he feels like such a fucking idiot.

🌼 "Oh bloody hell," he sighs, getting annoyed with himself for being an idiot. "Fuck sake, I'm sorry love..."

🌼 Tells you that he loves your singing and always has, that its one of his favourite things about you and thats the whole reason he used to tease you for it. Because he loves it so much he just thought that it was obvious he was only teasing.

🌼 So then he has to chip away at you the other direction, teasing you until you're singing for him again. Because obviously John isnt going to learn the error of his daft, boyish ways.

🌼 And finally you relent and give in and sing a little love song for him which has you both blushing.

🌼 His favourite thing which he used to love watching was how you'd gather all the wains up in your bed with you at night and if a story wasn't working to send them all off to sleep, you'd sing lullabyes for them.

🌼 He liked climbing into bed with you and the children and getting cosy, one big happy family, all huggled up together whilst you sang for them.

🌼 When one of the wains starts singing and copying you, singing with you sometimes John is overwhelmed with pride and he loves it. Loves you for teaching his littlens something he could never have taught them himself.

🌼Will get jealous if its been a long day and all he wants is to spend a little alone time with his girl, but he can't get anywhere near you because the kids want you to sing for them. He'll end up packing them all off to bed with the promise of one last song and then when finally its just you and him he'll tease you, singing your song back to you, making fun until youre giggling and blushing and actually getting quite wound up by him.

🌼 Then hes all kisses and grabbing you, pulling you close, singing and kissing you all over until youre laughing too much to fight him anymore.

Bonnie

🍀Has always loved to listen to music, ever since he was a little boy. And because you grew up together travelling around, hes always known you could sing. Always loved listening to you sing.

🍀Once when you were a little girl one of the older lads teased you about your singing voice telling you to shut up, telling you it wasnt cool to sing, it was cool to know how to hunt and do manly things. And little Bonnie threw a rock at him, "You shut up dinlow!"

🍀He didn't win that fight and in fact he got into a fair bit of bother for throwing that rock at one of the Boswell boys. A lot of trouble actually, more than it was worth as far as youre concerned.

🍀You didn't stop singing, you were a smart girl and you knew that most of the time the boys that said mean things to you were only doing it because they were daft and didn't know how to speak to girls. Had to be mean because they were scared of pretty lassies.

🍀Thats what Bonnie always told you anyway.

🍀Now you're much older and Bonnie is your boy, your champion, and you still sing all the time. You sing to the wains when you're helping to look after them. You sing when you're doing your chores, doing the washing in the stream, preparing the meat when the lads come back from hunting.

🍀You often sing around the fire in the evening when the men get their instruments out and some of the others dance with their wives and children. You'll sing at funerals too, when everyone needs a sad song to fill the silence whilst you watch the flames burning and the remember those who have passed.

🍀Sometimes Bonnie watches you with the youngens, when youre singing your lullabies to the babies, rocking them to sleep... He can't help but imagine you singing to his babies one day. Sometimes watching you singing with the children gets him in the mind that he wants to give you children sooner rather than later.

🍀Has definitely told you this too, he isn't shy about it. Will kiss your cheek and your neck, nibble your ear and then say something about how he's gonna have you singing lullabies to babies of your own in no time at all.

🍀He's a superstitious lad, has his pre fight routines... And the most important is that you come to his changing room, that just you and him get at least a minute or two alone for you to sing his lucky song to him whilst you wrap his hands up. He'll close his eyes and focus on your voice, how pure and pretty it is, he'll slow his breathing, get himself in the zone and then he'll kiss your cheek, give you one of his cheeky over confident winks, and off he goes to fight like a champion yet again.

🍀Teases you, says one day you'll be singing folk songs about bonnie Bonnie Gold champion of the world.

🍀 Fond of a post fuck lullaby, loves to hold you in his arms and listen to one of your sweet little songs. Loves to feel the vibration of your voice in his chest when you're resting on top of him.

🍀 He thinks of your singing when hes scared. He doesnt really get scared so easily, he enjoys most of the work he does for the blinders, doesn't really mind the killing, he's always been very laidback about those sorts of things, always been very calm. But sometimes when he's in a dangerous situation and he's realising quite how dangerous what he's doing is, when he realises he might not get out of a place alive, he remembers one of your songs, pictures you singing in a field or by the fire or with the wains, or how sometimes you sing just for him in the middle of the night, and the thought calms him.

🍀When he's injured after a fight, or after a blinder job that went wrong, and he can see that you're scared by the sorry state of him, he'll force you an easy smile and ask you to sing for him. Partly because he knows it'll give you something to focus on instead of powerlessly worrying, and partly because he'll take any excuse to hear that gorgeous voice of yours. "Pretty as bird song in the morning dove, thats how your singin sounds...."

🍀 Bonnie can definitely sing and he definitely sings for you, little lullabys and sad ancient folk songs with mysterious stories threaded into them. He'll lie with you under a tree at the edge of misty moorlands and sing to you a little irish lament about a girl who went wandering into the mist to find her lover never to return again. He'll tell you she haunts the moores and then he'll tease you when he scares you with his little ghost songs.

Isaiah

🐀You're the life of a party when you sing down the Garrison and Isaiah is always glad to be able to see you dancing and singing spreading joy, stirring high spirits.

🐀He's also pretty pleased because it was him who told the Shelbys to hire you as a barmaid, told them you were a wonderful singer and that you'd have the place buzzing and busy all night.

🐀And its true, you have the power to pick exactly the right song and get every man up to the bar or dancing with his lass or remembering times gone by. You're a real crowd pleaser thats for sure and Isaiah is very proud to have found you. Always tells Tommy "you owe me for that Tommy, my girls the main reason this place stays open..."

🐀But Isaiah has a jealous streak and he doesn't like watching the way the other men at the Garrison admire you. Hates to see other men falling in love with his lass, falling for your voice and the pretty songs you sing, the bright light which seems to radiate from you when you smile through the notes of a happy song.

🐀So he spends half the night planning how he'll get you alone, soothing his jealousy with thoughts of what he'll do when he finally gets you alone and he can tease you and touch you, kiss you all he likes without feeling jealous eyes on him.

🐀Taking you into the private booth and locking the little door so that its just you and him and you can't be disturbed. You getting flustered because he's just stolen you from the floor and you're supposed to be working.

🐀"Saiah whatre you doing, theres pints to pull! You'll get me in trouble..." "Nah love, ain't gettin in any trouble if you're with me, am a blinder aren't I..." winking at you being cheeky, teasing you and pulling you into his lap, holding you there one hand on your hip, one holding your chin and stearing you to loom at him.

🐀"Sing me a song love, one thats just for me..." he says giving you a needy little stare, his eyes fixed on yours, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. He enjoys seeing you blush, seeing you get a little shy. That shy smile so beautiful. "Sing us a song thats just for me and promise you'll never sing it for anyone else yeah.."

🐀So you do, and you promise you'll never sing it for anyone else, so it becomes your song. When you get married its the song you share your first dance to.

🐀At home, and only when no one else is with you he'll join in your songs and dance you around the kitchen or the bedroom, only interrupting your melody when he can't keep his lips from your lips any longer.

🐀You can tell his jealousy and how possesive he is over you and you love it, and you want him to know that you love it and you love him, so you write him little love songs and laments and you sing them for him in that private booth at the Garrison or in bed when the house is quiet and the streets outside are hushed by the late late night sky.

🐀He LOVES your little love songs and he can't even begin to express the effect they have on him. Hearing the words you wrote for him, hearing a whole song inspired by him... Its incredible and it stokes his ego but it also makes him feel so loved...

🐀Theres also probably something precious to Isaiah about the fact that you admire him and think hes good enough to be the subject of a song because obviously racism is aggressively prevalent in 1920s birmingham and he spends a lot of time very aware that if it wasnt for his peaky cap and even despite his peaky cap, there are many who would think him unworthy even of acknowledgement. So the fact that the love of his life is writing pretty little songs about how much they adore him, how handsome he is, how he makes their whole world turn... Well, he feels very proud and very honored and touched and he never quite knows how to express it.

🐀Tries to write you one too but it ends up being a silly little ditty that ends with something dirty that makes you blush and laugh and climb straight into bed with him.

Michael

☘️ There are many parts of himself Michael keeps secret. All the things he thinks people might think him a "soft lad" for.

☘️ One of these is that he can sing beautifully. His adopted mother used to play piano and have him and his brother sing hymns from church.

☘️His mother knows he can sing too, she makes him sing for her when she's worried, when the voices of the dead are too loud or painful to listen to. When shes unwell and suffering. Michael will sing for her but he'll be sullen and embarassed and he'll berrate her for even asking it of him.

☘️ The other hidden secret is that he loves to be sung to sleep. He loves to lie with you, him between your legs, your thighs wrapped around his waist, his head resting on your belly as you comb your fingers through his hair and sing him a soft soothing melody.

☘️Probably because he has mummy issues. He loves to be spoiled and taken care of like that, to be treated gently.

☘️After the Changretta hit on him, when he's in the hospital, you visit him every day, you're so worried about him but he's got glad to have his "little songbird" with him to sing for him and keep him from killing himself from the boredom of being cooped up like that.

☘️He asks you to sing songs for him whilst you change his bandages and wash his wounds. He likes the distraction from the pain and he tells you you have a healing voice. Tells you its a gift, that you were a gift sent to him from some higher power.

☘️If you want to sing professionally, which michael will definitely encourage, he will pull the strings to get you singing in tge fanciest hotels, to have you climb the ladder to stardom. Partially because he wants to see you happy and will do anything to keep you happy, but also partially because it feeds his ego and makes him feel powerful to have a famous girlfriend, one who is admired by so many for her beautiful voice. You're a real star, shining bright, and you're all his. No one elses.

☘️He keeps his own talent hidden from you for a long long time because he's worried you'll think him less of a man, worried you'll think he's soft. But one day, the day your father dies, you're so distraught, exhausted from all your grief, and michael wants to help you so he holds you in his arms and strokes your hair, rocks you gently and sings you to sleep.

☘️He doesnt think youll remember, thinks you'll have forgotten it because you were in such a state, but you remember how beautifully he sang and when you ask him about it he gets so self concious and blushes and tries to deny it.

☘️ "Must have been imagining it sweetheart I can't sing..."

☘️You beg him to sing to him again, and again and again...

☘️And finally he gives in, says that if you'll sing him a song he will join in. And you sound really lovely together and you can't keep the smiles off your faces.

☘️When you have children michael sings them these lowly lullabies and you love to fall asleep holding the baby in your arms, the both of you lulled to sleep by daddy.