#attributed to John cheere | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

liaa--qb · 8 months

Text

'WRONG DECISION'

[ Dark yan (male) Arya x Daenerys

WARNINGS : DUB con, possessive, Dark, Yandere (male) Arya, obsession, fingering, oral, explicit, cheating, manipulation, angst

Summary : Daenerys arrives at Winterfell to rule with John but things may not go well planned as her strange brother in law takes some special interest in her, extremely special interest.

Part 2

( Young Garret hedlund is boy Arya fancast here; U can have ur own✌ or may be Harry Gilby is my other fancast)

Once I saw in suggestions, i liked idea of this ship, I want you guys to tell me how was it before I continue this further ! would love likes and share ❤ Thankyou

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dany arrived at Winterfell, and she couldn't help but sense an unfamiliar tension in the air. The villagers and city folk did not seem particularly welcoming, which heightened her unease. John, on the other hand, appeared less concerned, and she considered that he might be right. It was likely because she was a newcomer, and history had shown that outsiders often brought trouble with them. Perhaps John's approach of allowing time was the wise one.

As she neared the main palace gate, she spotted two figures standing there. A striking young woman with long, luscious red hair stood next to a young man in a wheelchair, lost in his own world. Their gazes upon Dany held different expressions.

John dismounted his horse and greeted her with a smile. "Come meet my family, my sister and brothers," he said. Dany nodded and walked alongside John to meet them. After a brief introduction between her and John's sister Sansa, Sansa responded, "Winterfell is yours, Your Grace," though her smile appeared uncertain and forced.

Thankfully, Bran was more approachable, and a short conversation with him eased Dany's nerves. Meanwhile, John asking Sansa, "Where is he?" as he scanned the surroundings, to which Sansa merely shook her head and smiled, replying, "You know him, John."

As the temperature dropped and darkness settled in, they made their way inside for dinner. Dany couldn't help but conclude that her journey to the winter-ridden North was not as picturesque or thrilling as she had anticipated.

The place exuded gloom and a lack of joy, and the people's welcome seemed lacking in enthusiasm. Along the way, John was accosted by unkempt individuals who seemed to have an urgent need to speak with him. Dany found herself once again left alone, her attendants and friends having gone inside. She initially decided to wait for John to join her, but his conversations with his old friends seemed interminable.

While waiting, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone's eyes were fixed on her. She scrutinized her surroundings, but there was nothing to suggest anyone was there.

It was likely just her imagination may be, but the persistent unease began to wear on her. Annoyed, she eventually approached John, urging him to come inside with her, but he politely declined, suggesting she go ahead and rest, assuring her he would join them later. Her irritation grew; it was only her first day in Winterfell, and she was already disenchanted with her new surroundings.

As she walked down the corridors, the sensation of being watched and closely observed persisted. She tried to dismiss it, attributing it to her unfamiliarity with the place and its inhabitants. To combat her unease, she focused on her surroundings and tried to maintain a cheerful facade. Nevertheless, the feeling of someone's unwavering gaze bore down on her, sending shivers down her spine.

As Dany ventured further into the labyrinthine passages, she found herself in a towering, cave-like hallway. Its obscurity was offset by massive square-cut windows etched into the grey stone walls, offering a panoramic view of the exterior. Her heart quickened as the human presence dwindled, leaving her in a haunting solitude.

In this dim expanse, she suddenly perceived an elderly woman engaged in a haunting chant, reminiscent of a sacred invocation. She ceased her incantation and turned her gaze upon Dany, a faint but eerie smile gracing her lips.

The woman's attire was unremarkable, typical of the denizens of Winterfell, but her conduct unsettled Dany. It was evident that the woman's attention was not fixed on Dany herself but rather on something concealed behind her.

The elderly woman tenderly took hold of Dany's hand, her eyes reflecting warmth and kindness. Although the sudden gesture alarmed Dany momentarily, she found solace in the idea that an old woman's blessings were preferable to the disconcerting silence of strangers. Her anxiety grew as the woman continued to peer beyond her, prompting Dany to inquire, "What troubles you? Is there something amiss?"

With grace, the old lady replied and, for a moment, lowered her gaze, not releasing her grip on Dany's hand. She then presented a necklace adorned with dark beads. "Take this," she murmured, "for you are the Dragon Queen. May my ancient gods watch over you. I pray for your well-being, our radiant queen."

Dany hesitated as she accepted the small trinket, yet the genuine warmth displayed by the elderly woman, unlike others, persuaded her to retain it. "Thank you," she replied with an uncertain smile, "I hope to win the favor of all here."

Eager to depart, Dany bid her newfound acquaintance farewell. However, the old woman clutched her hand firmly and, with widened eyes, whispered urgently, "Listen to me. Trust no one here too readily; people are not what they appear to be. They wear many faces. Be vigilant."

This sudden shift in demeanour startled Dany, and she quickly withdrew her hand, nodding her acknowledgement before hastening her steps. Regret washed over her for venturing alone, compounded by the plummeting temperatures and chilling gusts that did nothing to alleviate her growing unease.

Dany quickened her pace as she approached the grand hall's entrance, determined not to squander a single moment. Many well-wishers sought to greet her, but she merely acknowledged them with a nod and a fleeting smile. Her mind was abuzz with questions about how people perceived her—wondering if they thought of her as a queen racing about like a madwoman. Thoughts raced through her mind: "Would these people accept her? What did Sansa make of her?"

With unwavering determination, she resolved to win Sansa's favor in the days to come. Having endured her fair share of hardships, Dany believed that Sansa, too, would empathize with her. They would undoubtedly form a deep bond over time. However, one thing was certain: tonight, she would not grant John access to her bedchamber. A mischievous smile naturally crept onto her lips at the mere thought of it. He deserved this playful retribution, for he had kept his queen waiting for far too long. Dany envisioned the delight on John's face when she teased him or, even better, when she whisked him away on a dragon ride. His startled expression would be a sight to behold.

though lost in her tender thoughts of John, she failed to notice a treacherous broken pipe beneath her, resulting in an impending stumble. However, in the nick of time, strong hands grasped her waist firmly, preventing her from meeting an unfortunate fall.

Dany opened her eyes, her breathing slowly returning to normal, while attempting to discern the nature of this timely intervention. She found herself on the brink of tumbling onto unforgiving rocks due to her misstep on the shattered pipe. A pair of rugged, calloused hands held her securely.

As she gingerly touched those hands, her gaze shifted upwards to encounter the face of her savior. A breath, momentarily held in suspense, now hitched in her throat. It was a man, a rather young man by her estimation. His profound, obsidian eyes scrutinized her with an intensity as though she were an enigma he was diligently trying to unravel.

Only then did Dany realize the potential awkwardness of her situation, a woman cradled in the arms of a man in such close proximity.

A quiet cough from the man snapped her back to reality, prompting him to readjust his stance.

In a moment of self-consciousness, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She couldn't help but ponder the judgments that others must be passing, wondering if she should have conducted herself differently. Despite the scrutiny of onlookers, she maintained her composure and attire, maintaining eye contact with her rescuer.

"It was exceedingly kind of you to save me," Dany replied with a gracious smile.

The man was slender but possessed a commanding height, surpassing even John in stature. His jet-black hair complemented the darkness of his attire. He gave a subtle nod and responded, "It was a mere duty, Your Grace. Queens must be protected, especially a queen as auspicious and exceptional as yourself." His voice was youthful, crisp, bearing a certain frigidity, yet oddly soothing to the ears.

Dany was confident that he was much younger than John, perhaps even herself. His attire resembled that of a skilled warrior, absent armor yet markedly superior to the typical resident's clothing, reminiscent of what a prince might wear. She thought he appeared to hail from a noble court, evident not only in his demeanor but also in his visage. His face exuded a striking beauty—different from John's but characterized by a wild, captivating allure.

Observing her contemplative gaze, he couldn't resist a smirk that carried a hint of cruelty and intrigue. "Is scrutinizing my face providing you with any insights, my queen?" he quipped with a challenge in his eyes.

Dany, somewhat flustered, shook her head in a mixture of embarrassment and self-deprecation. "Please forgive me, it's just that I have a peculiar habit of assessing people. As a queen from a distant land and a newcomer... it helps alot?" she stammered, concluding her words with a self-conscious, almost awkward laugh.

"Indeed," he responded, his tone swift and frigid. His demeanor exuded an air of unshakable confidence as he stood tall, his posture erect, and his folded hands behind his back. Their eyes met, and within his gaze, there sparkled a glint of curiosity, as if he were peering deep into her soul with a trace of amusement.

Internally, Dany grappled with the overwhelming sensation of nervousness he invoked in her. She had just met him, yet his presence was exceptionally daunting. This unfamiliar unease was unsettling; no one before him had ever stirred such profound trepidation within her.

"I would appreciate an introduction," Dany uttered, a warm smile adorning her face, despite the fact that her breaths hitched beneath the weight of his penetrating gaze. He tilted his head, his response delivered with an air of nonchalance, "I thought my queen possessed the magical ability to discern everything about me with nothing more than her prolonged and enchanting stare."His words flowed with a soothing cadence,

and Dany found herself incapable of sustaining eye contact with him. She frequently glanced around as she conversed, feigning composure. "Yes, it is regrettable that I lack such a power... I do wish I possessed it. Alas, you'll have to offer this new queen an introduction of yourself," she conceded, her voice a gentle, measured tone, her eyes returning to meet his as she toyed with her fingers.

She longed to meet his gaze directly, but her inability to do so weighed upon her as she sensed his intense scrutiny, patiently awaiting her response. Her tongue seemed to falter as she struggled to form even the simplest of words. In an effort to gather her composure, she gradually raised her eyes to meet his, delving deep into the bottomless depths of his own.

Undoubtedly, she mused to herself, he possessed a striking countenance. Yet, Dany couldn't help but believe that he likely viewed her as a fledgling queen, unable to produce even the most basic reply. Internally, she felt the weight of impending defeat pressing down upon her.

Their silent exchange was mercifully disrupted when John's voice rang out from behind, shattering the oppressive tension. Dany was profoundly grateful for the interruption.

John warmly embraced the young man and then turned to Dany, introducing him with unbridled enthusiasm. "Dany, allow me to present Arya !, Arya Stark, second son of Eddard and Catelyn, Prince of House Stark and Winterfell and my little brother," John announced, patting Arya's back while grinning broadly.

Arya acknowledged Dany with a brief smile and a nod, introducing himself as John's brother continued. Flustered by the sudden revelation, Dany managed only a hurried apology. "Oh... I didn't know, pardon me, Prince," was all she could stammer.

"No need for such formality, my queen. You may call me by my name if you so desire. I find little pleasure in such titles," Arya interjected. John intervened, taking charge of the situation, "I intended to introduce you, but it seemed you had vanished into thin air." With that, he guided both Arya and Dany into the hallways, where their dining awaited, thankfully dissipating the tension.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The chill in the air continued to intensify, and while the snowy landscape outside exuded its own unique beauty in the nocturnal stillness, a prevailing sense of gloom and silence also hung in the atmosphere. Dany reclined on her bed, wrapped in a long, loose, and thin gown, her fingers gently toying with the strands of her cascading hair.

After the passing of two or three days, it became increasingly evident to Dany that the task of endearing herself to her newfound northern family was proving to be quite arduous. No one extended themselves to her; no one inquired about her well-being, her contentment, or her happiness.

She found herself isolated, even though it was only her fourth day in this place. Her second day had largely been consumed by rest, much like everyone else who was fatigued by the extended journey. Dany couldn't hold anyone at fault for this, especially considering the frosty weather, which only encouraged her to remain within her chambers, ensconced by the warmth of a crackling fire.

One aspect that deeply perturbed her was John's minimal presence. He only appeared during supper or dinner, never taking the time to meet or engage with her privately in her chamber. Had he become so engrossed in reuniting with his old friends that he had inadvertently neglected her? Dany admonished herself for allowing such thoughts to fester, reasoning that it was only natural for him to require time to reconnect with them after enduring so much suffering.

She yearned for the moments when he would take her along with him during his work or reunions with his old friends, rather than leaving her on the sidelines as if she were invisible, bearing witness to their animated conversations.

Although she acknowledged the irrationality of her sentiments, she still found herself feeling isolated during their gatherings for supper and lunch. However, she steadfastly believed that with time, they would all come to cherish her, and she drew strength from that conviction.

Remaining idle in her quarters wasn't contributing positively to her mood. Dany concluded that if she truly desired the affection and admiration of the people, she would have to actively engage with them, getting to know them on a personal level and earning their regard through her actions. With this newfound resolve, she rose from her seat and exchanged her attire for a beautiful blue gown, a dress that evoked memories of her early travels and felt intimately familiar.

Emerging from her chamber, Dany ventured outdoors, her steps accompanied by Missandei. The surroundings appeared vast, resembling a sprawling expanse, except for the blanket of snow that enveloped everything. There, she spotted John and Arya engaged in conversation, with children playfully darting around them. As she approached, it was evident that they were discussing the training of these young ones.

"Greetings to both of you. What's happening? Any noteworthy developments?" Dany inquired, her demeanor exuding a bright and sweet smile. John responded with a warm smile too, while Arya, displaying a hint of irritation, distanced himself and began preparing his bow and arrow. Dany found this change in demeanor unsettling for a bit.

"It's merely a minor discussion. Arya suggested that we continue training the children, but I proposed that, thanks to the dragons, our situation has improved considerably. We need not risk the lives of these little ones; they are unprepared for the impending war," John explained.

Dany nodded in agreement, asserting, "Yes, I believe children should remain unharmed at all costs. Their lives are precious, as it is their safety for which we are all fighting." She gazed at John with profound admiration and leaned in for a passionate kiss, their moment interrupted by the resounding thud of Arya's arrow hitting its mark.

Arya, his tone chilled, addressed Dany, "So, are you not precious, and are your dragons not precious to you, my queen?" He pointed his arrow toward its intended target.

"What do you mean my prince ?" Dany replied to Arya's assertion.

Arya, his bow now lowered, fixed her with a piercing gaze. "Yes, you heard me correctly, my queen," he continued, his tone unwavering.

"Do you genuinely believe that anyone's life among us holds less significance than another's? I, for one, do not share that opinion. Regarding your heartfelt concern for these children's safety, let me remind you that I, too, was once a child, and I faced some of the most perilous trials. So did Sansa. I don't believe you were much older yourself when you were sold to Khal Drogo's Dothraki horde."

Those words acted like pointed daggers, thrusting into Dany's consciousness and summoning the shadows of her painful past. She felt vulnerable, her humiliation laid bare by those memories, now exposed so openly in front of everyone by this boy. The urge to shout or shed tears swelled within her, but she remained speechless, her gaze cast downward. But she had made a vow to herself to rise above these emotions.

"Let me correct you, Prince. I was not sold. I was Khal Drogo's wife, their queen, just as I am yours. I chose to go to them, and I ruled them. I was not their slave. Yes, my marriage was far from a dream, but I was their queen. They worked for me, and they killed for me," Dany replied, voice tinged with a sigh, conveying the weight of her complex history. In the midst of it all, she felt John's reassuring touch, his hand gently rubbing her back.

now Arya's expression had shifted, no longer bearing the edge of provocation but now displaying a genuine sense of admiration. It appeared he had something to say but held back.

John intervened with a diplomatic tone, saying, "She's right, Arya and please I understand that your intent wasn't to hurt her, but it would be more gracious to use polite words in her presence. She's new here and unfamiliar with your straightforward demeanour. I am confident that you'll find common ground with time. Let's set this topic aside for now and return to it later, shall we?" He offered a small, reassuring smile to ease the tension in the air.

Dany found herself reveling in this moment, for it felt far more gratifying than the others. She was now with all of them, nestled close to John, and embraced by his warm hands, basking in the semblance of a harmonious royal family.

She held John a bit closer, her eyes filled with affection, as she playfully inquired, "Will you visit my chambers tonight? I've been missing you." A shy, yet wide smile began to form on John's face, which he attempted to conceal while casting his gaze in all directions. "I have some important matters to discuss, but if you want it, I shall certainly come."

Just then, the extreme resonant thud of Arya's another arrow hitting its target again shattered the moment, jolting both John and Dany slightly. "Oh, my prince, it appears you're poised to break everything around us in mere moments," Dany quipped, her voice steady.

Arya regarded her with a sly smile playing upon his lips. "It appears, my queen, that you may be unfamiliar with the intricacies of defence and weaponry, aside from your dragons," he taunted, a challenging confidence gleaming in his youthful and notably handsome countenance.

His youthful face radiating a kind of wild, captivating beauty. Yes, he was, indeed, pretty she thought. Dany now felt certain that Arya possessed the same sort of "wild beauty" that Viserys had spoken of, the attraction that had captivated Rhaegar with Lyanna Stark.

She recalled Viserys describing Lyanna as not an extravagantly glamorous princess, yet undeniably possessing an alluring quality that had ensnared many a prince, including Baratheons. There was no denying it—Arya exhibited precisely that captivating allure that Viserys had attributed to Lyanna Stark, and the familial bloodline seemed to cast a striking imprint upon his features

Dany was not one to readily back down from playful challenges, especially not when it involved her future brother-in-law. "Indeed, my prince, I may not be well-versed in the ways of weaponry, but I am eager to learn and would greatly appreciate it. While I may not wield a sword like a seasoned warrior, I do engage in daily discussions about warfare with my army," she responded with a childlike grin, snuggling closer to John's side.

Arya emitted a wry chuckle, and John chimed in, "Would you like to give it a try? It's not all that difficult, really," his lips curving playfully.

"Do you think I should?" Dany asked John with an innocent, childlike curiosity.

Arya, however, interjected, "One can only fully grasp the art of weaponry when they know how to wield it. There have been many kings who shy away from the battlefield, hiding like cowards. But I know you're not like that. While it might be a challenge for someone as extraordinarily beautiful as you, perhaps those around you have unintentionally discouraged you—indirectly pointing at Ser Jorah," Dany's heart swelled with appreciation for Arya's words, though she couldn't help but feel sorry for Jorah, who stood nearby.

"But I wholeheartedly endorse your acquisition of even a modicum of expertise in weaponry. It's for your own benefit. A person cannot fully understand their possessions until they know them—how to hold them, how to use them to the fullest. Simply listening to armies and commanders is insufficient. It would serve you well, my queen," Arya said confidently, his words resonating with a truth that struck a chord with Dany.

She felt a tinge of regret for never having shown an interest in defense training, solely relying on her dragons and armies. What if, someday, there were no dragons?

With confidence etched across her face, she turned her gaze towards John and Arya. "I would love to try. You're absolutely right, Prince," she affirmed. John enthusiastically nodded in agreement, saying, "Go for it."

Dany made her way toward Arya, gently slipping out of John's warm embrace as she approached the bow. However, uncertainty shadowed Arya's expression as he cautioned, "I hope you'll be able to handle this..." Before he could complete his sentence, the hefty bow and arrows began slipping from her grasp—too heavy for her to manage. She attempted to maintain her composure, but it was proving to be quite a challenge. John couldn't help but laugh. "Doing well?" he teased.

Dany, feeling irritated by his playful taunt, retorted, "Yes, yes, laugh all you want. Perhaps later, it'll be my turn to have a good laugh at your expense." She struggled to manage the unwieldy weapon, contorting herself into bizarre positions in her determined efforts.

At that moment, Ser Davos and Tormund, a massive man whom John referred to as his friend, joined them, engaging John in a conversation. Dany's focus shifted from the bow and arrow to their discussion. Ser Davos, after exchanging glances with Arya, turned to him and said, "Prince Arya, we require your presence. I wish to share something with you and John. I would appreciate it if you could join us."

Hearing this news left Dany feeling a bit disheartened. She couldn't help but wonder why John always had to leave her alone among strangers, and why these northern men seemed hesitant to share their matters with her. "Not right now, but I will join you later. Thank you. In the meantime, feel free to share everything with John," Arya replied to Ser Davos, his attention focused on polishing his sword.

"Certainly, my prince, as you wish," Davos responded with a nod. He swiftly set the bow and arrows aside and made his way over to John. Dany took John's hand with a sweet, pleading expression. "But what about our practice? I thought we were going to have some family time."

John shook his head, asserting, "It's important. Arya is there to guide you; he's exceptionally skilled with swords and bows. You are having a family time, and both of you will spend time together." Dany nodded, her gaze lowered.

"Listen, I know he can be a bit brusque with outsiders at first, but believe me, no one will adore and protect you within the family like he will. You two will get along well, and we'll have our time together alone later definitely," John assured her, offering a warm and comforting smile. As Dany moved back towards Arya's direction, not before turning and calling out to John, "I'll be waiting, and we need to discuss our important matters as well." She flashed a mischievous smile at him, to which John bashfully bowed and departed.

Arya instructed her, "Pick it up and give it a try." Though he shouldn't have been so commanding with her, his tone bore more authority than request. Annoyance flickered across Dany's face as she replied, "As you wish, my prince."

After enduring Arya's continuous barrage of instructions like "pick it up," "you're holding it wrong," and "wrong again," Dany finally summoned all her strength, a force she rarely exerted even during her dealings with her dragons. She managed to grasp an arrow and the bow, taking aim at the target board.

The bow proved too heavy; its long wires pinched her skin, causing her to lose her balance on the weapon once again. However, this time, it didn't fall. Arya swiftly moved behind her, snatching the bow and steadying Dany's hands, holding onto the weapon more firmly. They stood close, too close, now. His cold breath brushed against her neck, making her even more nervous and causing her to shiver.

"Don't shiver. Why are you moving again? Stay in the position I showed you," Arya whispered into her ear. She understood it was part of a teaching lesson, but she wasn't accustomed to such proximity with anyone. Not even John had been this close to her in their early days. His warm breath tickled her, something she desperately wanted to ignore but couldn't. It distracted her once more, and she lost her balance on the bow, but Arya promptly caught it and forced his hands on her even tighter onto it.

Now he was so close that no air could pass between them. He pressed her body tightly against his, not allowing her to move, his other hand holding her waist firmly. "Yes, this is the correct position. Now, see and feel," he whispered again near her ear.

Dany wanted to move away from him, but how could she convey that it was too much for her to bear—this closeness, this proximity? He would surely mock her for having such thoughts. In the end, she felt she had no choice but to go with the flow; at least she might learn something. She struggled to keep her focus on the bow, arrow, and target. However, her concentration was constantly shattered by his whispered commands, his breath caressing her neck, and his firm grip on her waist, pulling her back against him to improve her balance. The sensation made her cheeks flush. Even lovers rarely held each other this closely in open.

Once, Dany suggested, "I believe I've learned enough, and you should go to John. He might need you." However, Arya rejected the notion, murmuring in her ear, "What about your needs?" as he adjusted her hands on the bow and positioned the arrow.

She began to turn and face him, yet his firm hands halted her, compelling her to remain in her current position. In a composed tone, he reassured her, "Don't move, be still. You have no reason to hide or be shy around me and I have no intention of leaving you alone."

Dany couldn't help but be overwhelmed by a mixture of shame and an uninvited desire that coursed through her. Some part of her body reveled in this intimate closeness, the strong possessive hold, and his seductive whispers. Her whispered "Thanks" didn't sound like gratitude but more like a suppressed moan, which only deepened her sense of shame.

Abruptly, Jorah interrupted, saying, "I believe they're summoning our queen for dinner. Missandei informed me to bring her." Dany gazed at Jorah, who kept his eyes away from their direction, wearing an expression of discomfort and avoiding any acknowledgment of their closeness.

She quickly moved away from Arya's grasp, in her hurry to set aside her sharp arrows, inadvertently cutting her skin in the process. A whimper escaped her lips, which prompted Arya to grab her injured wrist once more, his eyes fixed on the bleeding cut. "Oh, I'll tend to it myself. Ser Jorah, please ask Missandei to prepare a herbal paste; this is a minor injury," she replied to Arya, though it seemed he wasn't even listening to her.

Dany felt a shiver run down her spine as she observed him place her injured finger in his mouth and begin to suck on it which she wasn't expecting. Her heart raced at the intimacy of the moment. Ser Jorah appeared clearly annoyed but remained in place. The situation was highly gross, particularly for two individuals who were essentially strangers, especially considering the potential future relations between them. He held her wrist firmly, engrossed in the act as if he was savoring it more than anything else.

Finally, he released her finger, and Dany hastily withdrew, saying her goodbyes. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze properly. In that moment, she realized that Princess Sansa was also present, watching the scene from the upper floor of her chamber. Dany nodded at Sansa, who reciprocated the gesture, and then quickly departed with Ser Jorah.

56 notes · View notes

xiaojunsmintchoco · 1 year

Text

Love Note — Johnny Suh

pairing: best friend johnny x reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, roommates au

synopsis: despite having been best friends for the longest time, both you and Johnny pick up a new habit of leaving little notes for each other when you move in together. How does that blur the lines between best friends and lover for you both?

wc: 6k of (poorly-written) fluff

a/n: this is a gift for @sehunniepotwrites! Nikki, I hope you enjoy this fic (though it was wasn’t very well written imo :”) and that it brightens your Christmas for you! thank you so much for being such a cool mutual to talk to, though we’ve only known each other for a short while, I’ve really enjoyed our conversations! Stay safe and have a wonderful holiday!

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥

“Dude, you good?” Johnny looks over to you with a concerned expression as he hears the sigh coming from you.

“No,” you groan, scrolling through your phone as you look at the rental prices for apartments near university. “Looking at how rental prices are all sky-high, there’s no way I’ll be able to rent an apartment”.

“I would normally suggest staying at home, but if I were you I wouldn’t wanna make a one hour commute to school every day, especially with the amount of work we’re gonna have too,” Johnny muses.

You shoot your best friend a playful glare. “Gee, thanks for reminding me of that, John”.

He merely chuckles as he watches you continue looking for reasonably-priced apartments, but all of them seem like they’d drain more of your budget than you’d like. “Say, what if we both rent an apartment together? Then we can both split rent, and it should be more affordable for us, right?” Johnny suggests. “I mean, I’d like an apartment near university too. Like you, I wouldn’t wanna waste two hours travelling to and from school in total”.

Your eyes light up at your best friend’s suggestion. “You’re a genius!” you exclaim, his idea already appealing to you. With anyone else you didn’t know too well you would’ve been hesitant, but hey, this was your best friend you were talking about, which would be easier than having to move in with a complete stranger. In that moment, you thank the heavens that Johnny had decided to apply to the same university as you and gotten accepted as well.

“Of course I am”. Johnny scoffs in return, earning him an eye roll and a light smack across the shoulder.

“Whatever, Mr Self Proclaimed Genius. I’ll send you the apartment listings, you can look through them, and then we can make a decision together”.

Johnny hums as his phone dings with the text notification from you. “Yep, that’s good,” he agrees, opening the link you sent and skimming through the list of possible apartments you both could rent. Before you know it, you’ve both settled on a decent apartment.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

“YES! I can’t believe we actually got the apartment!” you cheer as you take the key and waltz into the new apartment. Johnny laughs at your antics, but lets himself into the apartment as well. It was quite a homey one, with a brown wooden floor and white walls. A comfy-looking sofa sat in front of a round coffee table and a television, and in the dining hall, you were greeted by a rectangular dining table, decorated with a glass vase of artificial flowers, as well as the fridge next to it. Talk about value for money.

“Let’s go check out the rooms, shall we? Then we can pick the rooms that we want,” Johnny suggests. You agree, and both of you hurtle up the stairs, eager to look at the bedrooms. Turns out, both of the rooms have the same basic design — single size bed, a bedside table with three drawers and a lamp, plus a large enough wardrobe for you both to use. How you both still manage to argue (jokingly) over which room you both want — no one will ever know, but you both attributed it to your “best friend chemistry”.

“Why are you so insistent on taking the room on the left? They’re both the same!” Johnny argues.

“Nah man, the one on the left has a nicer view from the window, so I want that one!” you declare. “Then why do you want the one on the left so badly, since in your words, ‘they’re both the same’?”

“The colour of the wardrobe in that room is nicer! The brown is warmer,” Johnny. claims, not backing down.

“Psh, over that?” you snicker. This argument wasn’t going anywhere.

You both decide the rooms based on a game of “scissors, paper, stone”, which resulted in you winning and getting the room on the left, and Johnny crumpled on the floor in defeat, being the dramatic best friend you’d known for all this while.

After moving into your desired rooms and unpacking, you both discuss roommate duties over an Indian takeout lunch. “I think that the cleanliness of our own rooms as well as laundry should be our own individual responsibilities,” Johnny begins.

You nod, agreeing with your friend. “For the other stuff, what about a weekly rotation? This week I can do cooking, while you do dishes. But for the other stuff…”

“We’ll split it,” Johnny decides. “So this week maybe you can sweep the floor and empty the trash, and I’ll clean the bathroom and do mopping? Maybe I should do groceries too, since you’re cooking already. So what do you think, Your Highness?” he finishes with a mock bow to you, waiting for your approval.

You laugh at the title he gave to you at the end, but approve of his suggestions. “Sure! I’ll write them all down on a piece of paper, then we can use one of those fridge magnets to put this on the fridge”.

And that commenced your experience of living with one of your all-time best friends.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

“Yo bro, I just got a sick idea”.

You look up from your breakfast of toast with butter and coconut jam (Johnny had gotten lazy that morning and just made plain toast), and raise an eyebrow at the boy in front of you. He’s currently scrolling through his phone, seemingly engrossed in something. “And that is…?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow up while trying to hide the suspicion creeping into your voice.

Unfortunately, Johnny knew you too well, and knew you had your reservations already. “Don’t worry man! I was just thinking, we could get Ikea desks for our rooms and assemble them together, since our rooms don’t have desks,” he mumbles through a mouthful of his own toast — topped with honey and butter.

Alarm bells go off in your head immediately, alerting you that your friend’s “sick idea” probably might not be that great. “I don’t know, man…we’re like bulls in a china shop. What makes you think we can assemble a desk, let alone two desks?” you question.

“C’mon, it’s just like, Ikea DIY. How hard could it be?” Johnny argues.

“Why not just get desks that have already been assembled?” you suggest.

“Nah, if we were to get DIY desks that’d be cheaper, because we’re assembling it ourselves instead of the people in the factory,” Johnny reasons.

“I’m not sure about this…”

And so begins another round of the playful arguments you’ve both gotten used to since the beginning of your friendship, which Johnny won — partly because you gave in, since you knew he wouldn’t let up and you’d both be late for your first classes if the argument didn’t end somewhere.

Now both of you are left squinting at the instruction manual of the first Ikea desk, while blindly screwing parts together.

“Dude, watch it, it’s gonna — agh!” Johnny’s panicked yell makes you jump and drop the instruction manual, which you were previously poring over for the umpteenth time before the desk collapsed, missing you by a hair’s breadth.

“What the heck, bro!” you exclaim, jaw still seemingly glued to the floor from shock.

“I’m sorry,” Johnny apologises, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “Gosh, I didn’t know Ikea furniture was this hard to put together”.

“Yeah, who was the one who said ‘C’mon, it’s just like, Ikea DIY?’” you snort, reminding him of his words over breakfast earlier in the week.

“Shut up,” he groans. “I’m starting to wish I could eat my words. Nevermind, let’s do this again. What do the instructions say again?”

“So first, we’ve gotta find this wooden board. Then, we put four screws into it…”

It takes about two more hours, and multiple glasses of ice-cold coke zero, but you both finally finish putting together the first desk. “Now that’s what I call a true masterpiece!” Johnny declares, stepping back from the completed desk and dramatically dusting off his hands. “Dude, we’re basically ready for marriage now that we can assemble Ikea furniture without killing each other in the process,” he jokes, swirling the ice cubes in his glass.

Having been his friend for years, you’re used to him making such jokes, so you don’t expect the wave of butterflies that sweeps over you when those words reach your ears. However, you brush it off and lightly smack his shoulder. “Don’t speak so fast — you almost let the desk collapse on me! Besides, we’ve got one more desk to assemble,” you remind, pointing at the second heap of wooden boards and metal frames laid on the floor in front of you.

“Oh, dammit”.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

One thing that sets you and Johnny aside from other roommates could be your habit of leaving little notes for each other on the fridge. Be it to update the other on location, remind the other about undone chores, or ask the other to pick something up from the store, every day, without fail, the fridge would be filled with these little notes — it had become a personal bulletin board of sorts for the two of you.

How it started? After this one day, when you came home in a state of awful stress due to the sheer amount of work your professors had loaded on you, and your dead phone wasn’t helping your situation. Thus, you decide to simply rip a piece of paper off a notepad, and scribble out a note for Johnny to let him know where to find you, before sticking it to the fridge with a magnet.

I’m at home, just in my room. Very busy today. As soon as Johnny gets home, your note on the fridge catches his attention when he walks into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of milk, and he decides to check on you.

No sooner than two seconds after he knocked the door came your tiny reply of “come in”. “Dude, what’s that awful smell-“ Johnny begins as soon as he enters. The sight that greets him is you seated at your desk with your hoodie up, staring at your computer with your palms cupping your face. Beside you is an unfinished venti cup of iced coffee, and your favourite cinnamon scented candle — the culprit behind that “awful smell”. He knew the scented candle was something you used in order to destress, so all of those things signalled to him that you were having a less-than-ideal time. “Hey, you good?” Johnny asks, making his way over and plopping in the chair beside you, noting the way your eyebrows were furrowed and your eyes were glazed over with a downcast expression.

“Yes, all is fine and dandy. Totally don’t have an eight-page essay due tomorrow and biology and math tests the whole of next week that I haven��t studied for”. With sarcasm dripping from your tone, you make your predicament known to Johnny.

“Ouch. That’s rough,” Johnny hums, looking over at your computer screen as he racks his brain for ways to help you. That’s when he realises that the essay topic you’re on is very similar to one he’s done before. “Hey, I actually did this essay last semester. Would you like to read mine? Maybe you can refer to it to help you with your own,” he suggests. “I mean, you could even use it and just change a few sentences. Doubt the professor would notice”.

You turn to properly face him this time. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I can just email you the document,” Johnny adds. "After this, I can study math with you and help you. Sorry I can't help with biology, since I don't take it".

“Oh my goodness, LIFESAVER! Thank you so much John!” you exclaim, the relief visible on your face as your features relaxed into a grateful smile. You really were thankful to your friend — if not for him, you’d still be stuck on the third page of your essay, not knowing how to go on.

“No problem, y/n. Just helping you out,” he answers with a grin. “What about after all your tests finish next week, we do something to relax?” he suggests. “My own tests finish then too”.

“Sounds good!” you reply.

Which is how both of you end up on the couch with Johnny, legs tangled up in a pile of blankets, savouring the delicious pizza you both ordered and laughing over what could well be your hundredth episode of Brooklyn-99, glad that the hectic semester was going to end before you knew it.

It was in times like these, your best friend’s presence brought you a warm sense of comfort, like warm peppermint tea in stormy weather. Somehow, with him, the world seemed much less overwhelming and easier to take on.

What you didn’t know was, Johnny felt the exact same way about you.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

Rain poured and lightning flashed angrily in the gloomy skies outside the window — but even that could not compare to the storm in your heart. To say you were frantic with worry would be an understatement. Walking over to the fridge, you re-read the note that he’d left on the fridge for you.

I’ve got basketball practice today, so I’ll be home at about 4 pm today.

It’s now 5: 30 pm — one and a half hours past the time stated on the note. The fact that he wasn’t picking up your calls too wasn’t helping.

Just as you think you’re about to lose your mind, the jangling of keys in the lock forces you to snap your head in the direction of the door, which opens to reveal none other than Johnny. He’s soaked to the bone, clothes uncomfortably clinging to every inch of him, bag slung over his shoulder. “Johnny! What happened, why were you not picking up my calls?” a flurry of questions tumbles out of your mouth as you hurry to take his bag from him and pass him a towel to dry himself with.

“Sorry, y/n. Practice was extended by more than an hour, and I forgot my umbrella,” he sighs as he gratefully accepts the towel from you and begins drying his hair.

“My goodness, John. To think that was the first thing I reminded you to bring today,” you reply, facepalming at your friend’s absentmindedness. “Quick, go take a bath — I don’t want you to fall sick,” you add, and he complies.

Unfortunately, the damage had been done. The next morning, you wake up to this note on the fridge: Now sicko, so I’m stuck in my room. Don’t worry about me though, lel.

Johnny was now curled up under the covers, running a temperature and nose running like a tap. As his roommate and best friend, you took it upon yourself to take care of him.

That afternoon as soon as you get home, you prepare some soup and rice for Johnny, and portion them into bowls. Setting both bowls onto a tray, you carry the tray to Johnny’s room before knocking on the door, entering when you hear a weak “come in”.

“Johnny, wake up and have something to eat before taking your medicine,” you say as you set the tray down on his bedside table.

“Mmph, wanna sleep,” he mumbles, laying his head back down on the pillow and shutting his eyes again.

“Eat lunch first, then you can sleep all you want,” you assert, gentle but firm. “It’s lotus root and pork rib soup with pumpkin rice, so you should be able to get it down with no problem”. He obliges, and you prop a pillow up against his headboard so that he can sit comfortably.

“Mm, delicious,” Johnny comments, slurping up a spoonful of soup and taking a mouthful of the rice. “Thanks, y/n”.

“Anytime, Johnny. I know you’d do the same for me”. His voice, though now coarse and raspy due to sickness, still carried the same familiar warmth you’d grown so fond of throughout friendship. Your heart fluttered and pounded at his words — which you realised was now becoming a far too common occurrence.

You sit beside him as he eats, silence being the only thing audible apart from Johnny’s slurping and chewing sounds. “You know, y/n,” he suddenly says, breaking the silence.

“What?”

“The way you’ve been taking care of me the past few days…it gives me ‘wife vibes’,” he remarks as you give him his medicine.

“Elaborate, please,” you request, hiding your surprise at his comment.

"I mean…look, cooking for me, making sure I take my medicine, checking on me whenever you can…is that not what a wife does?" he reasons, gulping down some water. “Also, the way you blew up my phone with calls when I was late from basketball practice, that’s something a worried wife would do”.

“Psh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “I’m just looking out for you as any good roommate would do. Besides, funny you say that — none of my friends think I give off wife vibes or mum vibes, even”.

Johnny raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, to them I give off joker vibes and clown vibes,” you explain with a laugh.

“I didn’t know”. Johnny says, surprise evident on his face. His expression quickly morphs into a smirk, though. “Then I should count myself lucky, since I’m the only one among our friends that have seen this ‘wife’ side of you. Trust me, your future spouse is gonna be very very lucky”.

You simply chuckle, picking up his dishes and scurrying into the kitchen to put them away in the sink in an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks that had darkened one or two shades. He thinks I’d make a good wife! Inside, you’re screaming with joy as you walk back to his room with a fresh glass of water, and put it on his bedside table. “I’d light you one of my favourite scented candles, but I know you hate it,” you remark, and both of you share a laugh as you remember how he nearly gagged the first time he came in and smelt the cinnamon scented candle. “Rest well, Johnny”. You exit his room and quietly shut the door.

As you’re leaving his room, something clicks inside of you: maybe, just maybe, you were developing a crush on your roommate and best friend.

And maybe it had started way earlier than you thought. But you felt it was best to keep your feelings under wraps, lest you jeopardize your precious friendship.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

Johnny finds himself startled by your shrill scream one fine afternoon, and worried that you got hurt, he rushes out of his room and into the kitchen to check on you. "Y/n, what happened? Are you hurt?"

His eyes follow the direction your trembling finger is pointing at, and his gaze lands on a brown, oval-shaped object, with two antennae and six hairy, formidable-looking legs. "C-cockroach!" you stammer, shivering like a winter leaf. Cockroaches were one of your worst fears, and Johnny knew that well.

Sighing, Johnny puts his hands on your shoulders and leads you out of the kitchen. "Stay outside, I'll deal with this piece of shit," he instructs, walking off to grab the can of insecticide in the storeroom. You watch from behind the kitchen door as he sprays relentlessly at the creepy-crawly, until it turns turtle and breathes its last. "Get me a tissue," he requests, and you comply. Picking the cockroach up with the tissue, he flings it into the bin and then cleans up the areas where he sprayed the insecticide. "This-is-J-S-95. Enemy-has-been-neutralized," he says in a robotic voice, releasing the fear in your heart and replacing it with amusement as you guffaw at his robot impression.

"Thank you so much, John. I thought I'd never be able to get my glass of water in peace," you let out a relieved chuckle. "Sorry to scare you with my screaming".

"No problem. I was more worried that you got hurt," he answers.

"Tell you what, as a thank you I'll cook your favourite dish for dinner next week, as soon as our groceries are restocked," you suggest.

"Sure thing. It's the least you can do after nearly giving me a heart attack," he jokes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever John,” you chuckle, rolling your eyes and moving to pour yourself a glass of water.

Funny I said that, everytime I’m around her, my heart pounds so fast I feel like I’m having cardiac arrest, Johnny thinks to himself as he strolls out of the kitchen.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

Perhaps, deciding to sing in the shower is far from a wise choice — even if you think you’re alone at home.

But that’s exactly what you decided to do. After coming home from a stressful day at school, all you wanted to do was take a warm shower, use your favourite shampoo, and then get to tackling whatever assignments you had. And because Johnny wasn’t home, you thought it would be a safe bet to relieve some of that stress by belting your heart out to songs.

You finish your private shower concert with your own rendition of Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You”, and exit the bathroom to find a new note on the fridge. Bro, great voice, you should’ve sang louder. I would’ve had a much better recording :)

He was home? I didn’t know! A mildly panicked thought zooms through your mind. You unpin the note from the fridge, and go off in search of your roommate. “Johnny Suh, if you really recorded me singing earlier, I’m gonna freaking kill you!” you exclaim, heading in the direction of his room. Sure enough, your own voice comes blasting through the door, eliciting a sigh from you. Still, you knock his door and wait for him to consent to your entry before opening the door and lunging towards him, pretending to strangle him. “You! Delete the recording, now!” you demand, making a finger gun and holding it to his head.

“Not in a million years,” he replies, smirking as he holds his phone to his chest. “C’mon man, you sounded glorious, why would I not want a memento of your fantastic voice? Besides…” his voice trails off. “It would make great blackmail material!” he finishes, lips curving into a triumphant grin.

“You piece of-“ you attempt to snatch the phone from him, but he stands up and holds the phone up high. Though you’re not that short, Johnny has a height that can match Goliath’s, and you’re not able to reach his phone. “Fine. If you don’t delete that recording, I’ll retract my promise of cooking your favourite dish for tomorrow,” you huff.

“Okay, fine, fine!” Johnny concedes, holding up his hands in surrender. Lowering his phone in front of your face, he unlocks it, opens his files and then makes a show of deleting the audio clip. “There. Happy now, milady?” he asks, waving his phone in front of your face.

“Yes, very good,” you approve. “Congratulations then, you saved yourself,” you declare, striding out of the room.

Little did you know, that night Johnny retrieved the audio clips from his phone’s recycling bin and listened to them, smiling to himself at how goofy and adorable he found you. He realised how idiotic he would have looked if you or anyone else were there, but hey — he was alone in the privacy of his room, with only the moonlight streaming through the window to accompany him.

Gosh, since when was I so down bad for her? He asks himself as he sets his phone on the bedside table and drifts off to sleep.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

“So this is what your apartment looks like? That’s nice!” Taeyong compliments his friend on his apartment as he steps in, taking a look at the place. The last semester had rolled around really quickly, and Johnny had invited his close friends and group mates, Taeyong and Yuta, over to the apartment to work on a year-end group project.

“Yeah, y/n and I decorated it together, is it nice?” Johnny asks, heart swelling with some amount of pride.

“Yeah, the ‘married couple’ vibes are immaculate,” Yuta says, eyeing the pictures on the wall, most of which were pictures you and Johnny took when you hung out together.

Johnny doesn’t miss the teasing lilt in Yuta’s voice, and rolls his eyes at him. “We’re not married or in any form of relationship, we’re just roommates,” he reminds Yuta while leading his friends into the kitchen. “You guys want anything to drink?” he asks kindly. While Taeyong simply opts for water, Yuta doesn’t answer, instead focusing on reading the note you’d left for Johnny on the fridge. “I’m at Wendy’s house with Seulgi to work on our year-end project. By the way thanks for killing the cockroach for me last week, I’ll cook your favourite dish for dinner tonight when I get home! Aww,” Yuta remarks, turning to smirk at Johnny. “So, you kill the bugs while y/n cooks as a thank you? If that doesn’t sound married, I don’t know what does”.

“Yuta, I already said, we’re not married or in a relationship. I mean, I do like her, but neither of us plan to-“ Johnny is cut off by Taeyong literally spitting out his water. It’s in that moment that Johnny realises that he let that detail slip, and his hands instinctively fly to his mouth.

“Wait, sorry, what? Say that again?” Taeyong prods.

Johnny huffs and shakes his head. “Nevermind. Pretend I said nothing. Let’s just go get our project done”.

“Y’know, if you really like her, I think you should tell her,” Taeyong comments later as they’re wrapping up their project.

“Nah bro. I’m sure she doesn’t like me back that way”. Johnny shakes his head.

“How would you know?” Yuta questions.

“C’mon man, we’ve both been nothing more than best friends for a good chunk of our lives. No way she sees me as more than that,” Johnny argues, but both his friends are not convinced.

“You’re not her, you wouldn’t really know,” Taeyong points out.

“That’s true. But I’d rather keep quiet than jeopardize our friendship by telling her,” Johnny replies.

“Jeez, the signs are so obvious. I can’t believe you literally live under the same roof as her, yet you’re oblivious to all of them,” Yuta groans.

“There are signs?” Johnny questions, raising an eyebrow.

“Bro, I’ve caught her staring at you multiple times in Chemistry class. I sit beside you, and I can literally feel her gaze on you,” Taeyong says.

“And even if she’s tired thanks to a lack of morning coffee, the moment you walk in — boom, her mood changes. Suddenly, she’s a can of beans and I can hear her even from the farthest end of the room. How do you not pick up on these things?” Yuta asks, not sure whether to be amazed or unimpressed by his friend’s oblivion.

“She really does those things?” Johnny asks. He tries to hide his surprise, but his furrowed brows and agape mouth give it away.

Yuta facepalms. “Oh my gosh, you’re unbelievable”.

But it didn’t matter. Now that that information was in Johnny’s hands, he was now planning out his next move.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

“And…we’re done for today! Great work y’all!” As three of you wrap up your work for the day, Wendy affirms the whole group.

“So how’s it been living with Johnny?” Wendy asks you as the three of you sit down at her table with the packet drinks she offered.

“It’s been going well so far,” you answer, taking a sip of your drink. “It’s really great to have him around the house so far”.

“Why? So you both can get more couple time together?” Seulgi looks up from her drink with a grin on her face.

“Oh please, Johnny and I aren’t married,” you scoff. “We’ve been nothing but best friends for so long”.

“That could change,” Wendy pipes up, and you shoot her a joking glare. Maybe you should never have told them you were beginning to crush on your best friend. “Okay but seriously, y/n, when are you going to tell him you like him?”

“Never ever,” you reply, hoping your monotone could convey the finality of that decision to your friends. “We’re just friends, always will be, because he doesn’t like me back that way”.

“Ah ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” Seulgi argues. “You don’t happen to be a mind-reader, do you, y/n?”

“No, but-“

“Then how would you know Johnny doesn’t feel the same way? The only way to know for sure is to tell him how you feel first, and then see how he responds,” Seulgi cuts you off and offers her advice.

“But if he doesn’t feel the same way it’ll make things awkward between both of us,” you object, voicing your concerns.

“And if he does? y/n, if none of you make the first move, Johnny could well end up with someone else. I’ve seen Minjeong ogling at him already, you know,” Wendy adds. The last bit of information wasn’t true, but knowing that three of you shared a common dislike towards said girl, Wendy spun the tale in a bid to jolt you into action faster.

“Wait, are you serious?” You stare at Wendy and Seulgi with wide eyes, and feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach as they nod.

“So, unless you want that bitch to get to your Prince Charming first, I suggest you quicken things and confess,” Seulgi advises.

That piece of information fills you with a new kind of determination, and you decide to take your chances. “Okay, that does it. I’m telling him how I feel, and if he doesn’t like me back that way, I guess I’ll see if he wants to remain friends or drift apart,” you decide.

“Atta girl. How do you plan to do it?” Seulgi inquires.

You pause in your tracks. “I don’t know, actually,” you admit. “I don’t really have any plan in mind”.

Three of you sit in silence, trying to formulate a plan for your confession. “Hmm, Christmas is coming soon, right? You could write him a note and attach it to his Christmas gift,” Wendy suggests.

“Ooh, or you could just attach the note to the fridge on Christmas morning, when Johnny’s still sleeping,” Seulgi offers an alternative. “Then you park yourself in a spot you both like, maybe the cafe that you both frequent, and tell him to come find you there after he reads the note if he wants to talk”.

You process the suggestions that they just gave you, but eventually decide to go with Seulgi’s idea. “Thanks guys! Guess I have a plan now,” you smile.

“No problem. Girls help girls,” Wendy answers with a laugh. “Let us know how it goes”.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

On Christmas eve, you learn one thing — the person who coined the saying “easier said than done” was absolutely right.

You had been so confident the days leading up to Christmas — writing and re-writing your note to him, asking Wendy and Seulgi for advice, and rehearsing what you would say to him after he reads the note.

But now, at 8 am in the morning, you’re standing in front of your fridge, clad in your favourite winter coat and beanie, hand moving to place the note on the fridge door before removing it again.

Is this really a good idea? What if he rejects me? Will I be able to handle the pain that comes after? A million questions race through your head as you contemplate your decision. Screw it, let’s just do this, you decide, and reach for a magnet on the fridge.

A hand comes out of nowhere and reaches out for the same magnet. “Oh, I’m sorry, you can use that,” a familiar voice sounds next to your ear, making you jump.

“Johnny! Why are you up so early?” you ask, genuinely surprised. Johnny’s not a morning person — he’ll take any opportunity to sleep in. To see him up so early in the morning on a holiday was probably an event that should be recorded in history books.

“Oh, erm, I just — have somewhere to be later,” Johnny garbles out a reply somewhat hesitantly as he fiddles with the earmuffs around his neck. “I wanted to leave you a note before I left, but I suppose I can just pass it to you now?”

“Sure thing,” you answer, taking the piece of paper from him. You assumed it would be something simple, such as asking you to pick up something from the store or to let you know where he’d be.

“Do you mind passing me yours as well? I can just read it now,” Johnny suggests before you can properly register the first word on his note.

You hesitate, thinking your options over. If you told him no and just left the note on the fridge before scurrying off, he would still read it anyway. If you told him yes and complied — same result. Oh well. “Here you go,” you say, praying that he doesn’t see how your hands are trembling ever so slightly. Your heart thuds like a galloping horse as you watch him scan your note — the moment of truth was near. In a bid to distract yourself, you read his note to you.

Y/n:

I’ve kept this secret to myself for way too long, and I need to get it off my chest, so I’ll say it here now — I love you, as more than just my best friend.

There’s so many things about you that made me fall for you. For one, we share the same sense of humour — you’re the only person I know who will talk about weird shit with me the whole night until we’re in stitches from laughing, wondering if we need mental help. I really appreciate the things you do for me, be it taking care of me when I’m sick, cooking my favourite dishes, or remembering even small details that I mention to you. Another reason is that you’ve been my best friend for so long, there’s this level of comfort and understanding that’s exclusive to the both of us. I don’t know — there’s something about being in your presence that brings me this warm sense of comfort and joy, and it’s more than words can describe. Of course there’s more reasons, but if I went on this note will never end.

I know that this is very sudden, and I understand that you may need time to think it over, so take as long as you need, and meet me at the cafe beside school when you’re ready to talk. Merry Christmas, y/n.

You read and re-read the note multiple times with what you’re sure is a visible gawk on your face. Johnny likes me too? Is this a dream? You pinch yourself hard, and soon realise you’re really not dreaming.

“Dude, you like me too?” Johnny’s voice disrupts your train of thought, and you shyly nod as you look up from the piece of paper, now slightly crumpled due to the tightness of your grip on it. Disbelief, surprise and then joy make their way onto his face in quick succession, before he lunges for you like a golden retriever and pulls you into a big hug. “Oh my gosh, I was so afraid you didn’t feel the same way, and that I’d ruin our friendship,” he mumbles.

“Honestly, same here John,” you reply, head resting on his shoulder. “But I’m glad now I know, because I can finally confidently say that I love you — as more than just my best friend”. Your next move surprises Johnny — before you both break the hug, you press a chaste kiss to his lips. His stunned expression amuses you to no end, and you end up chortling at how he raises his fingers to his lips in disbelief.

But when he overcomes the surprise, he pulls you in once more for another kiss, this time one that’s longer and a bit deeper. You savour everything about the kiss, from the feel of his lips on yours to the taste of his chocolate lip balm.

“Wow, what a way to start our Christmas,” Johnny chuckles as you both pull away for oxygen. “Merry Christmas, y/n. I love you”.

You smile at your friend, heart bursting with more joy, love and warmth than you’d ever felt in your whole life. “Merry Christmas, Johnny. I love you”.

taglist: @moonsclover @bangchan-fairy

#nct-writers #neowritingsnet #nct fluff #nct angst #nct fics #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct x y/n #nct scenarios #nct au #johnny fluff #johnny angst #johnny fics #johnny imagines #johnny x reader #johnny x y/n #johnny scenarios #johnny au

199 notes · View notes

cocosago · 2 months

Text

Hamilton Swim Team AU

George Washington – head swim coach (a.k.a the boss of the swim team) Coaching style: Strict yet kind

Thomas Jefferson– Butterfly stroke swimmer (like Jefferon's debating style in Ham: the musical, you have to have exceptional technique to do it well. However, as attributed to Jefferson's relative ease at his Thing, is also naturally athletic (Diggs), so his swimming style isn’t difficult for Thomas Jefferson.) He's on the competitive team and swam competitively throughout high school. Then he studied abroad at the uni Lafayette attended in France for two years. When he got back to America, Thomas was invited to GWash’s swim team (as well as the college the swim team is hosted by). Thomas's family knows GWash. Are these related? I’ll let you decide.

Thomas's swimsuit : a purple, moderately short Speedo with black accents.

The speedos Thomas buys are from premium swim shops that have inflated prices.

Fun facts:

His boyfriend is James Madison

Models in his free time

Used to have performance anxiety at swim meets and has social anxiety that he hides well publically

James Madison – breaststroke style swimmer (breaststroke is a lower effort swimming style (like how James doesn’t speak up much during Cabinet Battles). That doesn't mean you can’t swim fast using breaststroke – if your technique is good you can (like how Madison very effective at his job when he needs to be because of his skill™️)

As always, James is frequently sick. So, he has to sit out at competitive meets most of the time and cheers on Thomas usually.

James's swimsuit style: a standard length black speedo (the most common color) with light bluish-gray accents

Fun facts:

When he isn’t sick he swims very well

His boyfriend is Thomas Jefferson

Hamilton – Butterfly stroke swimmer (butterfly is objectively the hardest swimming style, you need excellent technique and innate ability to do it well).

Hamilton is arguably the fastest and most technically skilled swimmer in the swim team. Obviously, he’s on the competitive team.

Ham’s swimsuit: a relatively short green swimsuit with black accents (mans a little slutty)

Fun facts: Jefferson is the only one who is on the same level as Alex technique-wise at swimming

Burr – freestyle swimmer (it’s the most standard swimming style. That doesn’t mean you can’t be good at it, just that it’s the most standard one. )

Despite desperately wanting to be on the competitive team, everytime he just BARELY doesn’t make the cut (so he's in the non-competitive swim team). Are he and Ham together? Let me know /j but also /srs

If you guys want, I might include Laf, Hercules and John Laurens and/or the girls in this AU !

Please feel free to tag, comment, message me or leave asks on my page if you wanna talk about it!! I promise I’m friendly & would love to chat w/ u guys about it /gen :-)

#this AU is made by a person who was on a swim team for many years #also inspired by the Baseball Hamilton AU I saw recently #And ovrarches and duelamorts' ballet AUs and F1 AUs #hamilton musical #hamilton the musical #hamilton AU #I'm probably going to draw these fellas in and out of their swim outfits soon btw #anyways #jefferson #madison #hamilton #burr #gwash #jeffmads #hamburr #?#I could include lams maybe if you guys want #also any of you like Free! Iwatobi Swim Club?#I used to LOVE that shit when I was growing up

8 notes · View notes

fatehbaz · 2 years

Text

August 2022: Alberta premier Jason Kenney announces that an expensive statue of proud racist, imperialist, and architect of South Asian famines Winston Churchill will be erected in Calgary in 2023. Kenney calls Churchill “the century’s single greatest leader.”

---

Bill Kaufmann. “Winston Churchill statue coming to Calgary next spring long overdue, says proponent.” Calgary Herald. 24 August 2022.

---

Timm Bruch and Michael Franklin. “Alberta to commemorate Sir Winston Churchill with statue in Calgary.” CTV News. 24 August 2022.

---

Excerpt:

There was probably a time it made sense to erect statues of Winston Churchill in Canada. Say, about 1946. [...] I suppose, one could take issue with Alberta Premier Jason Kenney’s claim yesterday [24 August 2022] that “there is no single person more responsible for the defeat of fascism [...] than Sir Winston Churchill.”

But just as there was a time when it made sense to erect statues of Churchill in Canada, there is a time when it makes sense not to – for example, in 2023. In his encomium to the wartime British leader yesterday, even Mr. Kenney admitted, albeit half-heartedly, that Churchill was “not perfect.”

Indeed. Churchill’s legacy is, to say the least, controversial. He may have been, as Premier Kenney insisted in his verbose announcement that a statue will be erected to Churchill next year in the centre of downtown Calgary, “the century’s single greatest leader.”

Or he may have been, as others have argued, “a grotesque racist and a stubborn imperialist, forever on the wrong side of history.” [...]

Mr. Kenney, though, is not one for turning from his obsessions, among which are a couple of leaders of what we nowadays call the Anglosphere whose accomplishments are acknowledged but whose deep flaws Alberta’s soon-to-depart leader desperately wants us to forget.

If Mr. Kenney thinks Churchill was the greatest leader of the 20th Century and wants to erect a redundant and doubtless unpopular statue of the man in Calgary, he has also made it clear he attributes similar stature in the 19th Century to John A. Macdonald and is prepared to move an unwanted statue of Canada’s first prime minister and one of the architects of the residential school horror to Alberta from Victoria, B.C.

Victoria, named for another colonial personage, has relegated Macdonald’s statue, in disgrace, to a warehouse somewhere.

Mr. Kenney is not only obsessive about history [...] he is determined to ram his obsessions up our noses, as is the case with his bizarre fixation with Alberta Education’s appallingly ideological social studies curriculum, and now his enthusiasm for this statue of Churchill in front of the former MacDougall School in Calgary’s downtown, which nowadays serves as the Alberta government’s alternate Southern Alberta premier’s office.

---

About $300,000 for the statue by Edmonton sculptor Danek Mozdzenski has been raised by the Sir Winston Churchill Society of Calgary, an organization famed in the now mostly forgotten annals of the Calgary Herald for its annual “Winnie Dinnie,” an annual dinner featuring a speaker who actually knew the late PM. [...] The Winnie Dinnie’s sponsors in those days were all sincere admirers of Churchill and mostly Conservatives of a type no longer found in North America, that is to say, Tories. [...]

Now, I see from Mr. Kenney’s press release, that the president of the society is Mark Milke, a former apparatchik of the Fraser Institute and now chief honcho of a new neoliberal entity called the Aristotle Foundation, presumably dedicated to polishing the tarnished reputations of such figures as Winston Churchill.

In the cheerful little video that accompanied the press release on the government’s website, Dr. Milke, also a former political advisor to Mr. Kenney and one-time functionary of the notorious Energy War Room, enthused of Churchill: “He loved Alberta.” [...]

Regardless of the involvement of the modern incarnation of the Winnie Dinnie society, no good will come from erecting a statue of Churchill in Calgary. Indeed, one suspects that mischief is the goal. [...] Every time someone dumps a can of red paint over Churchill’s head, or some neo-Nazi group rallies at his feet, we will be reminded of the unhappy days we were led by Mr. Kenney and Alberta policy was directed by his weird obsessions.

---

Headline, images, captions, and text published by: David Climenhaga. “Jason Kenney’s strange obsessions: Winston Churchill, John A. Macdonald, and needlessly stirring up division.” Alberta Politics. 25 August 2022.

168 notes · View notes

pwlanier · 4 months

Text

A late 19th century taxidermy display depicting a group of Asian pheasants

the display probably attributable to John Cooper & Sons of London

comprising three Himalayan Monal pheasants (Lophophorus impejanus), a single Cheer pheasant(Catreus wallichii) and a Tragopan pheasant (Tragopan satyra), all arranged on rustic branches together with a butterly (Morpho anaxibia or M. thamyris) and an Asian crow (Corvus macrorhynchos) with hooked beak within a naturalistic setting and before a blue painted background, the whole set within a decorative mahogany display cabinet, the lockable hinged door with scrolling palmette corners to the upper corners and central division of the glazed front

Bonhams

10 notes · View notes

apenitentialprayer · 4 months

Text

A Twelfth Century Poem, Attributed to Saint Colmcille

What pleasure to be enclosed on an island high on a rock where I may reflect on the sea in all its moods.

Where I may see the great waves shining, bright, and cheerful, singing their music to their Father on their perpetual course.

That I may see the even bright-edged strand no gloomy view; that I may hear the song of the wonderful birds a joyous prayer.

That I may hear the crash of the mighty waves against the rock, the roar of the sea crying out near the churchyard.

That I may watch the soaring flocks of birds over the fullness of the sea; that I might see its mighty whales, greatest of wonders.

That I might watch the ebb and tide and on its course, that it may take my name and the secret that I whisper back to Ireland.

That contrition of heart would come to me in contemplation, that I may lament my sins, so difficult to declare.

That I may bless the Creator who rules all things: heaven, with its pure order of angels, earth, sea… everything.

That I may meditate with one of my books for the good of my soul; a while at Adoration of beloved heaven; a while at psalms.

A while gathering seaweed from the rocks; a while fishing; a while giving food to the poor; a while in my cell.

Time to pray for the kingdom of heaven, for our salvation… A labor not too hard! That would be pleasant.

translated by Bob Willoughby and John Caball, found in Voices From Ancient Ireland: A Book of Early Irish Poetry.

#Christianity #Catholicism #Celtic Catholicism #sea #Scotland #poem #nature #prayer #meditation #beauty #simplicity #charity #Saint Columba #peregrinatio

6 notes · View notes

thepastisalreadywritten · 11 months

Text

(WARNING: Sensitive Content)

SAINT OF THE DAY (July 6)

July 6 marks the feast day of St. Maria Goretti, a young virgin and martyr whose life is an example of purity and mercy for all Christians.

St. Maria Goretti is best known for her commitment to purity and the courageous defense of her faith at the young age of eleven that made her willing to undergo death rather than participate in a sin against God.

She is also remarkable for the forgiveness she willingly granted her attacker as she lay on her deathbed.

Maria was born on 16 October 1890 in Corinaldo, Italy.

Her father, a farmer, died of malaria when she was young, and her mother had to work to support their six children.

Maria took care of the younger children while her mother worked. She prayed the Rosary every night for the repose of her father’s soul.

She grew in grace and maturity. Her cheerful obedience and piety were noticed by those around her.

On 5 July 1902, a neighbouring farm hand, Alessandro Serenelli, tried to rape Maria.

On several prior occasions, Alessandro had harassed Maria with impure advances, all of which she had vehemently rejected.

This time, he locked her in a room and tried to force himself upon her. She fought against him, shouting, "No! It is a sin! God does not want it!" and warning him that this was the path towards hell.

When Maria declared that she would rather die than submit to this sin, Alessandro angrily grabbed her and stabbed her 14 times with a knife.

Maria was found bleeding to death and rushed to the hospital.

As she lay dying, she forgave Alessandro for the crime he had committed against her, saying, "Yes, for the love of Jesus, I forgive him...and I want him to be with me in Paradise."

Although the doctors tried to save her, she died on 6 July 1902, only eleven years old.

Alessandro was sentenced to 30 years in prison. He remained unrepentant until one night, eight years into his prison term, when Maria appeared to him, dressed in white, gathering lilies in a garden.

She smiled, turned towards Alessandro, and offered him the flowers. Each lily he took transformed into a white flame. Then Maria disappeared.

From that moment, Alessandro converted and found peace. He repented of his crime and changed his life.

He was released from prison three years early and begged forgiveness from Maria’s mother, which she duly granted.

Alessandro moved to a Capuchin monastery, working in the garden as a tertiary for the remainder of his life.

He was one of the witnesses who testified to Maria's holiness during her cause of beatification, citing the crime and the vision in prison.

Many miracles were attributed to Maria Goretti after her death.

Pope Pius XII beatified her on 27 April 1947 and canonized on 24 June 1950.

She became the youngest Roman Catholic saint officially recognised by name.

She is the patron saint of purity, rape victims, young women, and youth in general.

On her feast day in 2003, Pope John Paul II spoke about St. Maria Goretti at his Sunday Angelus, noting that her life provides an exemplary witness of what it means to be "pure of heart."

"What does this fragile but christianly mature girl say to today's young people, through her life and above all through her heroic death?" asked the Pope.

"Marietta, as she was lovingly called, reminds the youth of the third millennium that true happiness demands courage and a spirit of sacrifice, refusing every compromise with evil and having the disposition to pay personally, even with death, faithful to God and his commandments."

"How timely this message is," the Holy Father continued.

"Today, pleasure, selfishness and directly immoral actions are often exalted in the name of the false ideals of liberty and happiness.

It is essential to reaffirm clearly that purity of heart and of body go together, because chastity ‘is the custodian’ of authentic love."

#Saint of the Day #St. Maria Goretti

9 notes · View notes

getjoys · 4 months

Text

Kirstie Alley's Rise to Riches: A Journey from Cheers to Scream Queens

Kirstie Alley is a name that many people recognize from her roles in popular TV shows and movies. She has been in the entertainment industry for over four decades and has won several awards and accolades for her performances. But how much is Kirstie Alley worth today? And how did she earn and spend her fortune?

In this article, we will explore the life and career of Kirstie Alley, and reveal her net worth as of 2024. We will also look at some of the challenges and controversies that she has faced along the way, and how they have affected her finances. If you are curious about Kirstie Alley’s net worth, then keep reading to find out more.

Birth, Parents and Education

Kirstie Alley was born in Wichita, Kansas on January 12, 1951 to parents Robert Deal Alley and Lillian Mickie. Her father owned a lumber company while her mother was a homemaker.

She grew up with two siblings, Colette and Craig, and attended Wichita Southeast High School where she graduated in 1969. Afterward, she briefly attended Kansas State University but left after her second year. She later relocated to Los Angeles to focus on her interests in Scientology and interior design.

Beginning of Career

Kirstie Alley began her career in Hollywood with a role in the sci-fi film Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan in 1982. She then appeared in the TV miniseries North and South, based on the novels by John Jakes, in 1985 and 1986. However, her breakthrough came when she replaced Shelley Long as the co-lead of the hit sitcom Cheers in 1987.

She played Rebecca Howe, a neurotic and ambitious manager of a Boston bar, opposite Ted Danson’s Sam Malone, a former baseball player and womanizer. Kirstie Alley received recognition for her acting abilities through awards such as an Emmy and a Golden Globe for her role in the long-running sitcom Cheers, which concluded in 1993.

Concurrently, she appeared in various successful films, including the comedy series Look Who’s Talking alongside John Travolta. This period marked a significant rise in Alley’s career and public recognition, largely attributed to her performances on Cheers and other notable projects during the late 1980s and early 1990s.

Career Decline and Comeback Attempts

After the success of Cheers and Look Who’s Talking, Kirstie Alley’s career seemed to be on a steady rise. However, in the mid-1990s, she faced some challenges that affected her reputation and opportunities. She gained weight and became the subject of tabloid scrutiny and mockery. Kirstie Alley also had some legal troubles, such as being sued by a woman who claimed Alley hit her with a car in 1999.

She also faced criticism for her involvement with Scientology. A controversial religion that has been accused of abuse, fraud, and harassment . Despite facing challenges, Alley made efforts to revive her career by taking on multiple projects. She had a lead role in her own television show, Veronica’s Closet, from 1997 to 2000. Unfortunately, the show was canceled after three seasons due to its poor ratings.

She also appeared in several movies, such as Drop Dead Gorgeous, For Richer or Poorer, and Deconstructing Harry, but none of them were major hits. Kirstie Alley also ventured into reality TV, starring in her own show, Fat Actress, in 2005, and participating in Dancing with the Stars in 2011 and 2012 . She also became a spokesperson for Jenny Craig, a weight loss program, and lost 75 pounds in 2006.

However, she regained the weight and left the company in 2008. She later launched her own weight loss product, Organic Liaison, but it was sued for false advertising in 2013. Kirstie Alley’s career decline and comeback attempts were marked by highs and lows, successes and failures, and controversies and scandals. She never gave up on her passion for acting, but she also faced many obstacles and criticisms along the way.

Relationship and Children

Actress Kirstie Alley was married to Parker Stevenson from 1983 to 1997. During their marriage, they adopted two children together, William True and Lillie Price. Following their divorce, they shared joint custody of their children. In 1990, Alley experienced a miscarriage which had a profound emotional and physical impact on her.

In 2016, she became a grandmother when her son William welcomed a son named Waylon Tripp Parker. Alley loved being a mother and a grandmother. Her children honored her as an “incredible, fierce and loving mother” after her death in 2022.

Death

Kirstie Alley, the Emmy-winning actress who starred in Cheers and other TV shows and movies. She has died of colon cancer on December 5, 2022, at the age of 71. Kirstie’s family and her manager officially confirmed her passing.

They shared that she passed away in the presence of her loved ones after putting up a strong fight against cancer. which was diagnosed only recently. She leaves behind two adopted children, True and Lillie, as well as her grandson, Waylon.

Kirstie Alley Net Worth

Kirstie Alley net worth was estimated to be...... Read More

Source: Getjoys

#getjoys #kirstie alley #kirstie alley networth #networth

1 note · View note

ckneal · 2 years

Text

I generally prefer midamoul to Adam/Ghoul concepts, but I would be intrigued by a story where Adam hung around Windom as a ghost after his death, and managed to be present for the events of Jump the Shark. Sam and Dean don’t see him, though he spends a lot of time right in front of their faces, standing way too close as he looks them over and picks out every stray detail that reminds him of John. He might try shouting at Sam for being such a gullible idiot as the Ghoul plays him like a fiddle, and launch into a rant when the Ghoul forces Sam and Dean to admit what they do (”Are you fucking KIDDING ME?!”). But nonetheless gets so worked up when Sam’s about to dragged through that manhole under his car that he manages to manifest a blow to the chest that sends the Ghoul’s sister reeling underground, breaking her grip. But Sam and Dean have no idea whatsoever.

And this isn’t a fic, this is just a rough idea that came to me a second ago. But---stay with me---the Ghoul does. For some reason, the Ghoul is the only one who can actually see or hear Adam’s ghost, and he is desperately trying to pretend that he doesn’t. Partly because he’s not completely sure that he’s actually seeing Adam’s ghost. Because the Ghoul’s concerned that Adam might just be something he’s imaging because---horror just to think of it---he might feel just a little bit guilty about murdering people. It’s not like he was a hardened killer when he and his sister went on their revenge spree, and he’s not blind to the fact that the Milligan were innocent people. He knows they didn’t deserve to die---and he ate a lit professor once; in the back of his mind, he has a stolen memory of Lady Macbeth howling “OUT DAMN SPOT!”

What if him seeing Adam’s ghost is actually just a sign that he himself is starting to go crazy with the guilt?

But he can’t tell his sister about it, so the Ghoul just tries to ignore it and keep moving ahead with their plans. He ignores all of Adam’s snide comments about the Ghoul’s acting, and his heckling as the Ghoul nervously drives around in Adam’s giant piece-of-shit truck (the Ghoul may have had all of Adam’s memories, but that didn’t mean he could recreate Adam’s knack for driving stick). And while he couldn’t help noticing the cutting silence when Dean found Kate’s remains, he had his own feelings to attribute it to. But then Adam starts to say things around the point of the reveal---when the Ghoul finally gets Sam and Dean to crack about their real identities---that a figment of the Ghoul’s imagination couldn’t possibly know, because the Ghoul didn’t know, and that just makes it all the weirder.

The Ghoul doesn’t fully understand what’s happening, but Adam’s starting to turn into a vengeful spirit, because human souls can’t just exist on earth after death. As ghosts, their humanity erodes over time, and Adam’s afterlife certainly did not begin on the most cheerful of notes to begin with.

And as the Ghoul is trying to figure all of this out, holed up in the motel bathroom while Sam’s just outside, thinking that “Adam” needed a moment alone to cry, Adam’s ghost happens to lock eyes with him in the mirror.

“Wait, can you see me?”

The Ghoul runs, Adam pursues. A shouting match happens, and the Ghoul lets out the words, “I’m sorry, okay? It was fucked up, is that what you want to hear?”

“No, I want to not be dead!”

“Well, I want my dad back!”

“So what? You get to kill me over it?”

And as they’re shouting at each other, the Ghoul’s just reeling, he doesn’t even know what to say. They can hear Sam calling after “Adam” in the distance, because the Ghoul had just bolted from the room without warning before. He goes with, “Life’s not fair!”

Adam’s about to shout something back, but then he freezes, because the Ghoul starts sobbing, and suddenly Adam doesn’t know what to do, as Sam comes into view.

The next time the Ghoul has Sam alone, as they’re barricading Adam’s house, the Ghoul asks Sam a few questions about earth. It’s not weird, the Ghoul had already laid the groundwork with Sam to talk about hunting. Sam doesn’t even bat and eye as he talks about how ghosts hardly resemble humans after awhile, they just lose themselves, and that that’s why they shouldn’t feel bad about severing their link to the land of the living, even if they do look like they’re in pain when you “light ’em up.”

“Does it hurt them, though?”

“Honestly, we try not to think about it.”

“That’s not a no.”

Sam makes a face, and then goes to get more nails.

And then the ending would have to be the Ghoul opening his eyes in Adam’s house after having his head blown in, realizing he’s a ghost, and then turning around to see Adam awkwardly standing on the other side of the room.

The Ghoul tries to think of something to say, but then a reaper appears with a sound of flapping wings. They look back and forth between Adam and the Ghoul, and then ask which one of them they’re supposed to take.

Without a second’s hesitation, the Ghoul points to Adam and says, “Him!”

And then spends the final moments of his life watching Sam and Dean scrub the blood out of Adam’s house, wondering where he’ll go and whether he might see Adam again after they burn his corpse.

#my thoughts #is it okay to tag this as midamoul?#it's technically not since michael isn't here

19 notes · View notes

diavorchid · 2 years

Text

listen i know it's very absurd but. I'm not immune to 11.11 okay.

i feel like those socialites sending sponsorship in the hunger games but instead i'm sending a pack of Pocky via the wonderful time-travel method aka drawing lmao. also i didn't mean it but somehow the color turned out like ouran uniform.... [gasp] ouran au?? /j

they're in boarding school age with Art around 2 years younger?? i hope i managed to present their essence in their younger vers

short drabble under cut because ofc i can't help myself. warning for crack lol.

[ao3 link now i guess]

—

"Hey, John! What you've got there?"

He looked behind to the source of the cheerful voice and sighed internally. That young man again. John held himself back from attributing the adjectives such like "annoying" or "a prick" because he seemed sincere enough so far.

Then again Father had taught him better, that you could never know.

And maybe that kid — Arthur? — does deserve it, at least a little. After all, Arthur had deliberately caught him red-handed trying to break into some restricted school building, and he's still on edge and weary if Arthur would report him.

Albeit this isn't the time to think about it, because literally thirty seconds ago something just abruptly appeared in the sky and fell down right before his feet.

A peach-colored small box with big letters spelling "POCKY" on its front. John didn't know what it is, but it does sound stupid.

"I'm not sure," John said, "It just fell from the sky."

"Neat," Arthur said, intrigued.

John picked up the box and observed it from all its sides. There are some texts he couldn't read but overall, it seemed harmless.

"I think it's edible," he suggested, and began prying it open. Inside, he found a bunch of long biscuit sticks covered in a layer of cream for the most part. He remembered the image of strawberry on the box and concluded it's strawberry flavoured.

John took one out and stared at it for a second, not realising Arthur had bent down to take a closer look.

He shrugged, "Might as well try it," then put it in his mouth.

"Wait, you can't just shove anything you found on the ground into your mouth—" Arthur said frantically, and John just gave him a look. Arthur sighed, "At least, I won't let you do it alone!"

Arthur dove in and unintentionally pushed John to the ground, back against the wall. He put his hands by both of John's sides for support.

Then joined his mouth at the other end of the same stick John was biting.

Huh, pretty sweet, Arthur thought, and decided to take more bites and kept drawing closer to—

John yelped back and hit his head against the wall, biting off the biscuit stick in the process. "W-What are you doing?!"

Arthur looked at John, and only then realised how close he was. He could practically see the face in front of him turning the same colour as the mysterious box. "Just having a snack," he smirked.

John shoved the box in his hand against Arthur's chest, and tried to push Arthur's body in the process. "Help yourself, there's a bunch left!"

Arthur retreated and took a spot on the ground to sit, but John scrambled himself off the ground and started to stand up. He held onto John's wrist, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from here — let me go," John almost whined.

"This is yours, you found it."

"I don't care, I just gave it to you."

"You're getting me a present already?" Arthur gasped playfully, "As your friend, I'm touched. Thank you."

John really wanted to put that attribute now on the face in front of him. He thought he deserved it, as a treat.

"Whatever — just let me go."

"I will — after you and I finish eating this," Arthur shook the box in his hand, "My first decree as your friend: we're having a snack together at recess in school ground!"

The grip on his wrist was strong, but John was sure he could tackle himself out of it with some effort. Yet... yet — there's something in the gaze that Arthur was sending him right now, the curved up of the line at the edge of his mouth, full of confidence but John could swear it just twitched for a fraction of second — that made him yearned to let his guard down.

...So he did. Just this once, he assured himself, nothing could come out of this, right?

John sighed. "Fine," he said, lowering himself to the ground to sit at his previous spot, "Let's get this over with."

Arthur picked one out of the box, and put it in his mouth, "Here," he pointed at the stick in his mouth, "Do you want to share this again—"

"—Do it again, and I'm leaving," John cut him short, as he reached into the box and took one out for himself.

Now that he's actually tasting it without some kid trying to eat him, hey, it's pretty sweet.

Staying here together might not be the worst idea, after all.

#dracula daily #arthur holmwood #jack seward #john seward #holmward #dracula fanfic #i guess?? for organizing on my part at least #dracula fanart #my art #my fic #my post #i feel like i need a new tag for dracula #artjack

11 notes · View notes

samtheviking · 1 year

Note

1, 15, and 30. Thanks! 🥰

1. If someone wanted to really understand

you, what would they read, watch, and

listen to? (This one was asked by an Anon as well, so I'm answering for both here)

Read:

Anything by Neil Gaiman, especially Sandman, American Gods, and The Neil Gaiman Reader; Ready Player One by Ernest Cline (the book, not the movie - the movie is fine, but it's not the book), and the first 4 books of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Trilogy, but not the 5th or 6th book (yes, you read that correctly, it's not a typo)

Watch: Firefly (the Sci-Fi series), Doctor Who (especially Tennant and Smith, but you can't skip Eccleston), Cheers, The Princess Bride, pretty much any John Hughes film but especially Ferris Bueller, Star Wars (at least 3-6) and the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, Extended Editions

Listen to: The Beatles, Jonathan Coulton, and pretty much any and all 80's music

15. Five most influential books over your

lifetime?

Not in any particular order:

The Sandman, collected, by Neil Gaiman

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1-4)

Feeling Good by Dr. David D. Burns (I believe every human on the planet could benefit from reading this book)

The Tick, #s 1-12 by Ben Edlund

The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien

30. Pick one of your favorite quotes

You get two:

"You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body."

- George MacDonald, Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood (frequently attributed to C. S. Lewis)

"Fairy tales are more than true: Not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten."

- Neil Gaiman, paraphrasing G. K. Chesterton

Thanks for asking! 😊

#asks #just ask #answered questions #answered asks #about me

2 notes · View notes

veryballoonartisan · 2 years

Text

Research Shows Cub Scouting Has Positive Impacts on Children

A Boy Scouts of America program, the Cub Scouts, was created to teach young people how to make good moral and ethical decisions as they develop. Much of these values are embedded in the scouting laws, which dictate that scouts aspire to be courteous, kind, brave, loyal, friendly, and respectful, among other characteristics. Children who participate in the program also learn about thriftiness and cleanliness.

Research has shown that Cub Scout participation positively impacts the character development of children participating in the program. Cub Scouts eventually embody all these attributes through participating in grade-level activities, such as hiking, citizenship, sports, safety, and first aid. Each time the scout learns a skill associated with the activity, they earn a badge or a pin.

Usually, the child receives recognition for mastering these skills. This is important in instilling a sense of personal achievement and getting family members to understand the significance of the scouting activities and the badges/pins children earn.

Not only does the scouting program focus on child development, but it also integrates principles related to family and community within its mission. Regardless of the family arrangement, the Cub Scouts encourage family members to participate in their children's growth and development. Furthermore, it requires children to serve the neighborhood as a part of learning how these values play out in the real world.

With that said, research does support that this program does have positive impacts on children. In 2015, the John Templeton Foundation sponsored the research project that Tufts University conducted to see whether the program was effective or not. The project involved surveying 1,800 Cub Scouts and 400 non-Cub Scouts ages six to 12 in the Philadelphia area. The study used data and interviews to conclude the program.

The researchers discovered that at the beginning of the study, there were no character differences between the two groups. By the end, however, the study found marked differences in a few areas, leading them to conclude that Cub Scout participation positively impacts young children.

The study measured whether the children showed improvement by focusing on the attributes like hopefulness, helpfulness, obedience, cheerfulness, kindness, and trustworthiness. The study found that the more time the subjects spent in scouting activities, the children exhibited more positive character development outcomes. Scouts were more likely to welcome positive social values compared with children belonging to the group who did not participate in the program.

The study also revealed insights about Cub Scout attendance. Those scouts that regularly attended meetings had higher outcomes in all the targeted areas than those who did not consistently attend meetings.

More importantly, the participating cohort showed marked improvement across all targeted categories. Children who participated in the scouts’ program were more cheerful than children who did not. The bar graph reveals non-participants were less cheerful, obedient, and helpful by the end of the study.

Cub Scouts also showed improvement in hopefulness, kindness, and trustworthiness. While the children who did not participate in the program improved as well, they did not do so at the rate that the scouting group did.

Being a Cub Scout holds a host of benefits for young children. Some benefits are ample opportunities to engage in outdoor activities and nature, exposure to new experiences, necessary life skills, and setting and meeting goals.

#Doug Stevenson

3 notes · View notes

adrianodiprato · 2 years

Text

+ “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” 1 Peter 5:5

My 2022 Christmas Message: Humility

At his General Audience, on the birth of Jesus, on December 21, 2021 Pope Francis stated:

“Humility alone opens us up to the experience of truth, of authentic joy, of knowing what matters.”

Humility is so important in our world today. A world often fixated on and afflicted by binary thinking. A world that is quick to cancel you if you don’t fit a prevailing narrative of the righteous and those filled with much self-importance.

Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call ‘humble’ nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.

If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step. The first step is to realise that one is proud. And a biggish step, too. At least, nothing whatever can be done before it. If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed. C.S.Lewis | Mere Christianity

Humility is not always acknowledged as a relevant trait to possess. We far too often view humility as a weakness. It is in fact a remarkable character strength. Pride goes before destruction (Proverbs 16:18) while humility goes to the one who overcomes the destruction and the destroyer (John 1:5). Humility makes room for the gift of grace and our inherent worth through acknowledging the possibility of the other.

Humility helps one extend more compassion and empathy to others. Those who practice humility are more likely to consider others’ beliefs and opinions. This is most likely because humility offers the opportunity to become less self-involved and more attuned with the feelings and humanity of the other. Humility allows us to be open to self, place and a deep consciousness of the value of the other.

Pride is the appreciation of yourself and your beliefs, it is having confidence and assurance that you are an important and making a relevant contribution to this world. These are valued character attributes.

However, if pride becomes extreme, with extremeness revealing itself when humility is absent, a person may start exhibiting selfish, self-righteous or dare I say it, narcissistic behaviors. That behaviour can manifest hate and colour one’s ability to maintain perspective and the principles of nature justice.

“When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with the humble is wisdom.” Proverbs 11:2

As illustrated by C.S. Lewis, the truly humble person ��will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.” And the only way to begin to grasp this is by admitting first that you think of yourself more highly than you ought, a kind of self-righteous pride for “if you think you are not conceited, you are very conceited indeed.”

Humility is a grace that attracts more grace. Pride closes the door to spiritual growth, but humility opens the door of your life to more of God's grace. This gift of grace we receive through the simplicity and humanity of the Christmas story.

“The message of the Gospels is clear: the birth of Jesus is a universal event that concerns all of humanity,” the Holy Father said at his general audience in 2021.

“At the same time, specifically because it leads us to Him, humility leads us also to the essentials of life, to its truest meaning, to the most trustworthy reason for why life is truly worth living.”

Then Pope Francis went on to explain the role of humility, recalling the many signs of humility leading to the birth of Christ. An angel announced the birth to lowly shepherds. Mary and Joseph could find no comfortable place to stay (Luke 2:1-7).

These types of signs of humility are examples of ways that it humbles us, reminding us all of our smallness while celebrating the hope, our hope and the hope of the other, born from the promise that is the birth of Christ.

“The reason is that the person who is not humble has no horizon in front of him or her. They only have a mirror in which to look at themselves. Let us ask the Lord to break this mirror so we can look beyond, to the horizon, where He is. But He needs to do this: grant us the grace and the joy of humility to take this path.” Pope Francis

This Christmas may the birth of Christ inspire this dream in each one of us. One of an enduring optimism for a universal and fraternal love, compassion, and humility of self, with place, through the beautiful possibility of looking beyond, to the horizon of hope, born from the gift of the other.

Thank you for sharing the gift of your humility with the world in 2022. Buon Natale. Frohe Weihnachten. Feliz Navidad. Joyeux noël. Shèngdàn jié kuàilè. Merry Christmas.

Original photo: Walking the Stations of Cross via the Via Dolorosa, Jerusalem on Good Friday | 2013

Reference

Kellenberger, J. (2010). “Humility”, American Philosophical Quarterly. Vol 47, (4): 321-336.

#permissionistriumph #courageovercomfort #merry christmas

2 notes · View notes

weclassybouquetfun · 2 years

Text

Apropos of nothing.

Random luck of the universe, indeed.

FILM AWARDS SEASON CHECK-IN Part Deux - No Spoilers

THE GOOD GLASS ONION: A KNIVES OUT MYSTERY- People can like - or not like - what they want. I can only control what I like. But when I read about people who didn't like GLASS ONION I just think, "Do you just not like fun?" This is a fun film. It's hilarious. I think it improves greatly on KNIVES OUT, which I felt was overpraised. It loosens up Daniel Craig's Benoît Blanc giving him a personality instead of letting his accent do all the work. I found it very clever and entertaining and if Rian Johnson can continue to improve on these films, I would love to see more outings with the character.

THE MENU: Another fun film. Dark comedy directed by Mark Mylod (SUCCESSION) and written by late night comedy writers Seth Reiss and Will Tracy ( which is remarkable because there is nothing less funny than light night comedy). Centered around a group of strangers who congregate for a night of high dining under Chef Slowik (Ralph Fiennes who can always be trusted to bring dry wit to the table). While I love Anya Taylor-Joy, I think too many of her characters - or rather, how she plays them - are too one-note; too cool and even-keel. Ralph Fiennes continues to be a delightful actor. BABYLON: A stunner. Maybe it's because I love Old Hollywood and loved all the touches and references to that era (Margot Robbie's character is a nod to Clara Bow, even using a quote attributed to Bow as one of her lines. Brad Pitt is drawn after John Gilbert; Jean Smart a Louella Parsons type).

The trailers can't do all 3 hours and 9 minutes of the film justice, but I think it encapsulates the journey the film takes.

People are already dismissing it as a fawning love story to Hollywood and they're not wrong, but it is a film that doesn't litigate the past. It shows all the seediness within Old Hollywood. The heartbreaking desperation of those who dreamt of being stars. It's an unconditional love of accepting an era warts and all. Margot Robbie gives it 1000% percent. Paramount is running Robbie as Lead and while there are some tremendous female lead performances this season -Olivia Colman in EMPIRE OF LIGHT, Danielle Deadwyler in TILL, Cate Blanchett in TÁR and Michelle Williams in THE FABLEMANS. While I want Danielle Deadwyler to win, I would be so happy if Robbie did. I can't imagine Emma Stone had this role before her. As great as Stone is I don't see that character as richly drawn if it had been another actress doing it.

More films. NO SPOILERS.

RRR: This film is what people meant by crowd-pleaser. My audience was so hyped during this film. Spontaneous clapping and cheers all throughout the film. We were all joined in our love for the over-the-top action, the comedy and the smiting of British soldiers. Like BABYLON, it's a bit over 3 hours but doesn't feel like it. The leads, the story, the action is outstanding. CGI? A bit dodgy, but it's so deliriously fun.

It is on Netflix but as their US distributor stated at the screening Netflix has dubbed it into Hindi instead of using the original Telugu, so if you want the real deal it is in theaters.

WHITE NOISE: I like films that takes big swings and this and BARDO: FALSE CHRONICLES AND A HANDFUL OF TRUTHS certainly do that and for that alone it makes me love a film. Noah Baumbach's adaptation of Don DeLillo's novel. It was once consider not filmable but Baumbach assembled a great cast to give it the old college try.

The cast makes it work. Much like Cate Blanchett in TÁR who masterfully delivers dialogue that could easily be sedam Driver is able to make it entertaining. Same with Gerwig, Don Cheadle...essentially the entire cast (which includes Andre "3000" Benjamin and Jodi Turner-Smith in small roles, and younger actors Raffey Cassidy and Sam and May Nivola (children of Emily Mortimer and Alessandro Nivola).

Gerwig and Danny Elfman on panel.

ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT: Searing look at the brutality of a war and the folly of men who sacrifice people lives just for their own glory and gain. This is the first film role for Felix Kammerer who got it straight out of theatre school. He is devastating as a teen solider who realizes too late that he and his friends have been sold a bill a goods about the nature of war. Director Edward Berger (with Felix Kammerer and Daniel Bruhl who executive produced the film and has a role in it)

It's brutal but that's what I loved about it. War should not be glossed over and glamorized. THE PALE BLUE EYE: I am putting this in the GOOD pile even though it probably belongs in the MEH pile because I have never been disappointed in a Christian Bale/Scott Cooper collaboration. This could have been better as it drags in the middle, but it is a promising film and Bale is never not good.

Bale and Scott Cooper

Adaptation of Louis Bayard's novel about a retired detective (Bale) who teams up with a West Point cadet by the name of Edgar Allen Poe (Henry Melling, THE BALLAD OF BUSTER SCRUGGS, THE OLD GUARD, Harry Potter whichever film) to uncover the murder of a cadet. I liked the idea of a Sherlock-ian Poe but the film is a pretty straight-forward mystery; as grey as its scenery. But Bale and Melling (who is one of my new favourite actors) are so good. THE MEH THE SON- Florian Zeller's companion piece to THE FATHER. In a lot of ways this is a better film than THE FATHER because I preferred the performances in this more. I think Sir Anthony Hopkins chews the paint off of scenery and I felt he teetered on hamminess in THE FATHER, but he has one scene in this (and a standout scene in ARMAGEDDON TIME) that shows why he's so great...when he manages to not go full ACTOR. Vanessa Kirby is also impressive. However, for me it felt like the cast was trying to wring some emotionality from this dry, mediocre script and for that they should be applauded. On the merits of the story itself, I think PSAs have more heart. THE FABLEMANS - There's been some comparisons of Steven Spielberg's THE FABLEMANS to Alejandro González Iñárritu's BARDO: FALSE CHRONICLES AND A HANDFUL OF TRUTHS because both films are film à clefs, both films are viewed as indulgent (THE FABLEMANS at a 2 1/2 hours; BARDO 2 hours and 54 minutes (apparently there is a cut that has 20 minutes shaved off, but I saw the longer one).

But if I had to choose one over the other I would go with BARDO. Yes, it is so abstract at times, so surreal and yes, indulgent, but it's not safe. THE FABLEMANS is safe. It's covered in bubble wrapped and handled with gloves. It's behind protective glass it's so safe. For a movie about his love of film and family, Spielberg and co-writer Tony Kushner seems to keep the passion at arms length. But there were high points. Michelle Williams is terrific and the storyline about the parents is much more interesting than anything about young Steven...I mean, Sammy's, life. SHE SAID: This could have been and, perhaps, should have been a TV movie. My issue with the film isn't really the film itself. The acting is fine but staid (with the exception of Samantha Morton who only is in one scene and blows everyone else out the water), the story functional, not unlike reading an article. But it was hard to view the film on its merits when the absurdity of a film saluting the women who exposed Harvey Weinstein, yet it is coming from an industry that shielded Weinstein and rewarded him all the while. DEVOTION: Based on Adam Makos' biography "Devotion: An Epic Story of Heroism, Friendship, and Sacrifice" about the camaraderie between Ensign Jesse Brown and Lt. Tom Hudner (played by Jonathan Majors and Glen Powell, respectively)

In many ways I liked DEVOTION better then the other films on this list. It's a throwback to old war films which is to say it's not about battle, it's about friendship and duty and valor. Great chemistry amongst the cast, you completely buy the friendship between Brown and Hudner. It is it a solid film. Sony is really pushing it there have been tons of screenings like one hosted by JJ Abrams, another by Amanda Seyfried whose husband Thomas Sadowski costars (and is quite good in it).

#awards season #awards season 2022 #babylon #margot robbie #the pale blue eye #christian bale #daniel bruhl #all quiet on the western front #glass onion #glass onion a knives out mystery #devotion movie #white noise #adam driver #greta gerwig #bones and all #cmbyn fandom #bones & all

4 notes · View notes