#always feel free to talk to me about anything

[sunalee]

at the supermarket

summary: usual grocery day with your husband.

with: 141 task force.

a/n: getting more and more interest in doing a domestic series with this men. I cannot help, they scream husband material.

⊛ john price

Every errand with john resolves feels like a teamwork task, it's natural for him to be supportive and most of the times, lead; in this case though, you're the captain. He was never very familiar with shopping for the amount he's away serving the country, so to optimize time — groceries isn't something very funny to spend time on — he gladly follows your lead.

He's a high skilled observant, which he uses to find the hidden sales and promotions, and the faster line to checkout (his wallet appreciates it).

John is more subtle with touching outdoors, so you'll feel his hand gently brush your side or hold your waist as you move around the store, his nose inhaling your shampoo scent when he's behind you on the line, among other small gestures. But the eye contact is a must, especially since John enjoys making you flustered as he admires you.

what he usually says: "yes, ma'am", "found it.", "don't get shy on me now, sweet thing, can't I look at you anymore?" "you open the car, I take the bags, got it?"

⊛ kyle "gaz" garrick

It's really rare for Kyle to not join you with grocery shopping whenever he's home, even when he's feeling tired to help: he wants to be there for you, always. And he's such a good company to do that, your eye candy of a husband made his efforts to now know the best brands and products to buy. You trust him to do all by himself at this point, but you both think that it's nice to turn such a common task into a couple activity.

He's the supermarket charmer. It's really alarming the amount of times some old lady asked for his help, only to praise him to you. "He's a keeper darlin, you're a lucky girl." They say to you, which you answer with a growing smile as you turn to look at your kind man. Sometimes he even gets small gifts from them!

Kyle has a need to keep contact with you as much as he can. He takes your hand from time to time to leave a small kiss on the back of it or on your fingers; he's also very keen to caressing your hair and putting some strands behind your ear while you're talking with him. And let's not even mention the cheeky grins and winks he throws in your direction whenever you call him out.

what he usually says: "flower, how about some wine?" "you're so pretty, you know that?" "haha, sorry ma'am, but I'm happily married." "c'mon, I was just helping, don't look at me like that!"

⊛ john "soap" mactavish

johnny doesn't like grocery shopping that much, but even if you ask for his help, he's driving and helping you, end of discussion. He's like your dotting knight, assisting your needs, lifting heavy stuff and making sure you're pleased with everything you need. He can even read aloud your shopping list for the whole market, anything but his wife getting angry.

It's almost contradictory, but sometimes you caught Johnny distracted with groceries, especially when you guys approach the snacks and beers section. It's funny to watch him, out of nowhere, asking your help to choose between one or other (none of them really necessary to buy). He's also a samples hunter, proving everything that has samples just because it's food or booze, and it's free.

Soap walks with one arm wrapped around your waist while the other is driving the chart around. He's not as clingy as he is at home, only giving you some small kisses on your temple, or letting you hold his arm: but the arm wrapped around your waist is a must. He wants to let everybody know that you're his girl.

what he usually says: "oooh, samples over there!" "na ah ma'am, it's heavy." "wait, let me help sweetheart." "baby, can we buy this?"

⊛ simon "ghost" riley

Simon's the least keen to grocery shopping. First, because he doesn't like going out in public; second, because it's so boring and stressful, two combinations that explains his frustrations. But you're the one who asked his help, and anything his wife asks, goes.

Even though he's not a expert in healthy food, Simon doesn't like to spend his money with junkie food and sweets to the brim: he's cautious with what you eat, so he always add more healthy options. He also doesn't like the way people stare at him because of his balaclava, but who can blame them? He just hope they don't think he's a criminal.

He's not good with PDA, but this guy needs to have you near him every second of the time, or he'll grow paranoid with worry. To prevent that, he has a habit of guiding your body with one of his hands at the middle of your back. He also looks at you to check in, but mostly checks the area, not wanting to get caught by surprise in case something happens.

what he usually says: "tsc.. this place is a mess." "woman just stay beside me" "why do you need so many chocolate bars?" "you're gonna be the death of me, woman."

© sunalee 2024 — all rights reserved.

[ms-demeanor]

Hi. I've followed you for a while and your advice to others always seems pretty good. You seem very knowledge about therapy and driving. This may be a bit out of your depth, feel free to delete this ask if so, but if you have any advice I would greatly appreciate hearing it. I've got a problem: the field I'm studying for and love doing will require frequent trips to places I cannot walk/bike/bus/fly to, and I'm terrified of driving. My father decided the best way to start teaching me was to put me behind the wheel on a small road in a big city with pedestrians and bikes on the road, and tell me to drive. It's been 4 years and I can't even think about getting behind the driver's seat without bursting into tears. Riding in the front passenger seat is fine. I want to get over this fear and finally learn to drive, with paid therapy if necessary, but I don't know what terms to search for to find a therapist that can help me with this. Any ideas?

So I think pretty much any decent therapist will be able to help you with this fear, just like any decent therapist will be able to help you figure out how to approach any fear that you've got.

But I'm also not sure this is something you need a therapist for so much as some very good friends and a lot of time. If you don't have your learner's permit I'd recommend getting one, and from there I think I'd say to ask some good friends, who you know are good drivers, to help teach you the rudiments of driving.

I think that you should do this by starting on a closed private property where there aren't people or pedestrians or anything else, and just put the key in the car, put the car in drive, and drive up and down a driveway until you are capable of doing so without panicking. From there, have your safe trusted driver friend take you someplace with no traffic of any kind but that does have some kind of lane markings (school parking lots on weekends, shopping center parking lots late at night, etc) and begin practicing things like stopping, turning, and acceleration. Do that until you're comfortable driving around empty parking lots, at which point I'd say that you should look at enrolling in a driving school with a closed course.

You were put in a very stressful situation that frightened you a lot, but there are ways that you can build up that should help you to see that it doesn't have to be stressful like that. Sit in the driver's seat of a parked car. Turn the car on without putting it into gear. Drive it back and forth just to get used to the car being in motion at very slow speeds.

If you want to work on this with a therapist you're probably going to want to be looking for someone who specifically discusses dealing with phobias around driving or accident-related trauma and recovery; cars can be terrifying and there are a ton of people who have had bad times with cars so there are lots of professionals who have dealt with getting people comfortable around cars as a necessity of our car-centric culture. That's the kind of stuff I'd be looking for, is people who talk about vehicle-related or accident-related trauma.

But also I think that's just a good thing to say out front if you're shopping for a therapist. "I am scared of driving and want to learn to drive, that is my primary current interest in therapy and I'm looking for a professional to support me while I work through this." Say this out loud as you call offices, and DO make calls, don't just look for reviews. People may not advertise this kind of thing specifically because it may just be taken for granted that it's something that their office can help equip you for.

Though, again, I think that you can likely do a lot of that yourself with the help of a good friend or a patient family member who is willing to respect your boundaries and work within them, but you need to think about what your boundaries are and what your goals are before you get to work.

[loserlvrss]

𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ( 이민호 )

pairing : lee minho x fem!reader genre : drabble, domestic fluff warnings : mentions of being sick & food, skinship word count : 0.6k authors note : i know u know lee know btw

“just sit down,” your boyfriend was pushing you into the barstool beside the kitchen island.

your arms crossed over your front, features pouting. “you know, minho, i’m sick, not useless.” you exaggerated with your hands, swinging them out beside you. “i can—i can, i don’t know, cut up the carrot or something!”

he smiled adoringly at you, like one would a cute animal or small child, and shook his head. “what kind of chef boyfriend would i be if i made you do the work?”

you rolled your eyes, knowing that it was ultimately useless to argue with the lee minho; he’d get what he wanted in the end. and frankly, you weren’t good at cooking. that’s why you two worked so well, he had his little hobby to destress and you were always fed. a win-win.

so, when you woke up in the middle of the night with a stomach ache, only sleeping a couple hours after that, he was quick to jump into the kitchen. he wanted to make you something his mom would make when he was sick as a kid—you found the gesture it sickeningly sweet. he must really love you, you thought.

he’d gotten started in silence. usually he’d let you talk about everything and nothing at the same time, but he’d never pry if you didn’t feel like it. and, today must’ve been one of those days, as you just watched with closed lips.

he looked so beyond good when he cooked—arguably better than the food. and nothing was more attractive than his desire to take care of you. he didn’t even go back to sleep until he knew you were okay, trailing you into the bathroom and getting you medicine before you even asked. he made sure you were warm and properly cuddled under the blankets (in his arms), rubbing your back until peacefully off in dreamland.

honestly, you owe those couple of hours to him.

“hey minho?” the silence was finally broken, your boyfriend stopping all his movements for a second and looking at you. his eyebrows rose in a non-verbal approval to go on and ask. “i know we’re already dating, but i have a big crush on you. i just thought you should know.”

he huffed out a laugh, “is that so?”

“yeah, in case you want to do anything with that knowledge.” you admitted innocently, “like marriage or something.”

“i plan on it, love.”

you made a face, something between disbelief, mock-disgust and blushing. “if you were over here i’d kiss you… thrice.”

he eyed you suspiciously, “you just didn’t want to say twice ‘cause then i’d start dancing to alcohol free.”

“maybe,” you joked, getting from your chair and making your way around the counter. he pretended to be offended, steadily chopping up the various vegetables again, and ignoring you. “you know i love your one-man show, baby.”

he smirked slightly—though you couldn’t see—but still was childishly giving you the silent treatment. you pleaded, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his clothed spine once, before pressing your cheek to it. “there’s literally no one else i’d rather listen to sing red velvet while they shower.”

“i knew you listened, weirdo.” he chuckled, “if you wanted me to sing to you, i would, you don’t have to creep around.”

you lightly squeezed, “oh, shut up.”

and then suddenly he burst out into song, scaring you, but then sending you into a fit of giggles as the choreography soon followed; the knife safely out of his grip.

you watched in awe of his playfulness, disguised by straight lips and lidded eyes. you really couldn’t read a book by its cover, you thought, because this stupidly-handsome book always knew how to make you feel better.

please reblog and like <3 comments are appreciated ! thank you 4 reading © loserlvrss 2024 all rights reserved. 

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[sallieraptor]

[huge post alert]

(part 1 of my yapping)

[Episode 3] not to mention the way he didn't hesitate to pull Pomni back and try to free her from the spirit, even though he was terrified and had to listen to it reminding him of a painful loss. he simply just ignored it, and focused only on saving her.

he freed her, held her, and calmed her down.

and something that happens a lot whenever Kinger tries to solve a problem, is that he almost always ends up making it worse, or just not changing anything at all. and he knows it. he's mentally confused, he doesn't remember things well, it's difficult for him to stay sane and rational, but even so, he knows when he did something "wrong" or something that he "shouldn't" have done. he knows when he doesn't help, he knows when he makes things worse.

in the heat of the moment, he may not be good at understanding that he messed up in some way because of his constant mental confusion, but when he has the time to breathe, when he can recap things, when he can get to his safe place, he knows. and he feels guilty about it. I'm sure he mighty also feels worthless, and feel like a burden, but that's me talking.

the conclusion of it all is that Kinger can be seen as a character with a generic plot, the typical silly character who actually has a sad past that justifies his actions, but he is more than that.

Kinger is not just silly, he is the person seen as insane. the person in the crew who is reduced to the point of being nothing more than someone who has already lost their mind, but whose body is somehow still there.

Kinger is someone extremely brave, and extremely considerate of the others he cares about. he may be seen as a comic relief for his sudden shrieks, gasps and shaky body, but inside his stormy mind, he keeps all his loved ones protected under an umbrella. despite forgetting events, or even forgetting how to act, he always remembers them.

whether it's asking where a friend is; thinking about a friend that usually ends up missing a part of the adventure; or remembering another friend's adjustment to the world they're in.

Kinger is theoretically the unstable, unpredictable person who cannot be relied on, the person people laugh at, feel sorry for, or think they never want to become someone like him.

and it's extremely significant to know that the effect Kinger has when he holds his breath is to glow.

it's incredible how this can also be linked to the fact that he's not afraid of the dark. it's interesting to see that the representation of the thing that keeps him alive, his breath, when held, makes him glow.

I believe this shows that Kinger is the light of those around him. despite being seen as insane and crazy, he is the only one who can light the path for those who fall into the vastness of darkness. and it shows that he is someone who would be willing to stop breathing to guide those he loves.

I may have gotten it all wrong, this is just an interpretation that is subject to change of opinion, but I definitely love the depth that Kinger's character has, and I love that we could learn a little more about him.

[sweetimpurity]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ day fiiiiiive!! cw: oral (male receiving) wc: 1.2k ˚୨୧⋆｡ sorry about the weird post time!! Yikes! We’ll be back to the regular schedule tomorrow

“Baby?” Your bare feet padding on the marble floor are all you can hear apart from your voice calling out to him. Walking down the hall to the front entrance way of the apartment. The penthouse feeling oddly quiet since he was supposed to be home by now. You sigh, looking both ways. Spotting his jacket on the hook. He must be here. Turning around, you peer into the kitchen; empty. He’s not in the downstairs bathroom. He’s not in the dining room. You round the corner, to the living room. Finally spotting him. Or the back of his shoulders and his head. Sitting on the sofa, facing the floor to ceiling windows. 20 stories up over a beautiful Nueva York night.

“There you are…” You sigh and walk over. Once again, your steps and voice are the only sounds. “I thought I heard you come in before…” You round the couch to look at his face. Tired eyes and that scowl, eyes downturned. He seems grumpy tonight. His tie loosely hanging around his neck, legs spread wide over the cushions and a beer in his hand.

“Hey baby…” He sighs, almost a whisper. The frown lines soften slightly at the sight of you. But he’s still unhappy. Running a hand through his hair, further messing it up from the way he usually styles it back, and his arm resting on the back of the couch. A few stray hairs springing out around his face.

“You okay?” You ask, bending down a bit to try and find his eyes. But he looks down at his lap. His thumb rubbing over the lip of the beer bottle over and over again. “What’s wrong?” You whisper. Crouching down in front of him and looking up to try and make eye contact with him. Rolling forward onto your knees on the carpet between his legs and blinking up at him trying to coax answers out.

“Bad day, mi vida…” He hums. His head lifting and looking at you now. That scowl on his face; like frustration mixed with something more soft and sad. His job is hard. Some might think he just gets to sit back and relax. CEO; that title is more than just a plaque on his desk. It means he works the hardest and the longest and makes sure the entire company runs smoothly. He can’t afford for things to go wrong, not in the business of science and fact. “I’m sorry, honey…” You whisper. Eyes flicking from his eyes and down his chest, his abdomen, his thighs. Leaning your elbow on his knees.

“You wanna talk about it?” You blink up at him. Pretty lashes fluttering. He only shrugs. That same frown on his plush lips. Taking the last swig of his beer and letting out a breath. “Is there anything I can do?” You ask innocently. His eyes wander a bit before looking back into yours.

…

“Baby…” He sighs, head leaning against the back of the couch and fingers clenching into the cushion. His work shirt pushed half open and his fly undone just enough to free him from his pants. The metal buckle of his belt clinking softly and your hand wrapped around his length. Stroking him and working him up, getting him hard. It’s the least he deserves after a long day.

“You feel good, Mig?” You ask so innocently as you’re doing all this to him. Leaning over him to kiss his sternum, then down his diaphragm. His chest heaving and you can see it through the opening in his shirt; feel it against your lips. He just sighs, both hands going through his hair and pulling gently. Like he’s fighting the release of his tension and stress. A different kind of tension building. The need to come. The impending orgasm; a promise of final release. And all at your hand.

“You’re too good to me, baby…” He huffs, finally looking down and almost losing it at the look in your eyes. Like pure and utter devotion personified. You’re looking at him like he’s the only person to ever exist. Like he’s the only thing you care about. At least for this moment. “You deserve it, love… always working so hard…” You whisper, pressing your thumb to his tip, running down, stimulating all his sensitive nerves. “You deserve it all… just relax…” You smile. That smile. You manage to make him soft and mushy inside. Bringing a smirk to his lips, breaking through the scowl. Adjusting his hips on the sofa, his abdomen clenching and relaxing.

You move back down, knelt between his legs, bringing your attention to his needy dick, his reddened tip just begging for more. Begging for you. And you’re more than happy to show him just how much you appreciate him, how much you want him to feel good. Your head dips down, kissing his tip in feather light pecks. Hearing a huff of breath leave his chest. “Fuck…”

Your eyes flick up to watch him, his head leaning back again and just basking in the bliss of your soft lips and wet tongue. As you press kisses to the underside of his length, rubbing his tip gently with your thumb, slowly and seeing him come undone. All these touches, all these kisses, everything. It’s all for him. To show him how much you care. And he can feel it.

He can feel it in the way you’re looking in his eyes, that you want him to feel good. That you’re trying your damn hardest and that makes something in him swell. Maybe it’s his possessiveness, maybe his ego. He wants to be the only man you ever look at that way.

But soon your lips purse around his length, taking him into your mouth and on your tongue. Pursing around him and sucking upwards until his tip pops out and your hand instantly comes to stroke him once more, trying to get him there. All for him.

His hands stay at his sides. Reluctantly so. He wants to grab your hair like he does every other time you suck him off. Bob your head up and down and deepthroat you until you’re whining and drooling. But this is different. He doesn’t provoke you. He lets you completely take the lead, letting you take care of him. Clenching the couch cushions to restrain himself.

You return, taking him deeper into your mouth this time and hitting the back, almost feeling a gag coming on but you push through. And he shudders. His hips jutting forward ever so slightly like he’s seeking out the warmth and comfort of your mouth around him. The way you’re giving him this attention, this care. It’s everything. You bob up and down on him gently, hearing him groan and sigh, knowing he feels good and that satisfies some need of your own. You’re the only one who can make him feel this way. Makes him feel more powerful having you here, sucking his cock like a popsicle than sitting behind the letters CEO ever made him feel. It’s a different kind of power.

“Baby, I’m close…I…” He groans, eyes closing shut and his muscles tensing through his shirt, through his pants. His body, a shaken bottle about to burst. With him inches deep in your throat, your tongue swirling around him, you can feel him pulsing, feeling him twitching.

“Amor… m-mi vida… oh… hah…” He mumbles and moans. Bucking his hips up and finally hitting his peak. “Oh fuck fuck… hah…” Countless sighs and curses pass his lips. His guard completely breaking down at he comes in your mouth. On your warm soft tongue. You always know how to make his bad days good again.

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[immediatebreakfast]

I'll be quiet, Doctor. Tell them to take off the strait-waistcoat. I have had a terrible dream, and it has left me so weak that I cannot move. What's wrong with my face? it feels all swollen, and it smarts dreadfully.

God, these are the first words that came out of Renfield's mouth after being brutally attacked by the Count to the point of unconsciousness, then seeing Seward first after being woken up. It speaks on so many unsaid things, and actions that came before the Count, before the Harkers, even before Jonathan set a single foot in Transylvania. How much has this old man suffered at the hands of the people supposed to care for him, who use his money then discards him without thoughts on his personhood, and the man who treated him like some kind of experiment until the very end.

I can't see any kind of righteous fury, nor even pity coming from Seward or Van when they began the surgery that would let Renfield talk one last time. Only Quincey, the man who has seen everything, calls for an explanation after seeing the mangled state of the poor old man, who sacrificed his life for the sole young woman (so young that she could be his daughter) who spoke to him like a human being in who knows how many years.

Renfield is a tragic character until the very end. The representation of the vulnerable, of the mentally disabled who receive no mercy from an uncaring system set up to fail them. Even the narrative itself cares less from his state, and his suffering once the groups gets all of the information they needed from him, leaving Renfield alone while agonizing; in the dark of what happened to Mina's salvation.

Utterly manipulated by the Count, dangling his freedom in front of him while feeding lies on eternal life. Never revealing anything, and being treated like a fool without a second moment to breathe. Is Renfield destined to always end up inside those four walls, will he ever be truly free, or seen like a person?

Go long old man, go long, right over the edge of the earth, and jump to a place where there is no pain nor suffering at the hands of your fellow human beings. Maybe Renfield will find a girl in a white nightgown, waiting for someone on the other side, and they will chat about frivolous things in a way that neither could when they were alive.

[weneeya]

don't hide yourself w/ higuruma m.list | rules

note. now that jjk is over, we can go back to happiness and delusion :D i never wrote with higuruma before and it's a real SHAME so i'm here to deliver, please enjoy and feel free to request stuff <3

Having Higuruma Hiromi as your coworker didn’t seem like something easy at first, and you had to admit that it was kind of true. He wasn’t the kind of man to really talk or be anything more than simply polite. The bare minimum. 

The first time you really spoke with him was when you both got out to smoke at the same time. You forgot your lighter and he offered you to use his instead of going back inside to take yours. After this, you both got out to smoke together a few other times. 

Today was one of those days where you were exhausted. You were overworking yourself most of the time, and he noticed it. He couldn’t really say anything about it, because he knew he was no better. But it still worried him a little to see you light up cigarettes one after another. 

“It’s gonna kill you quicker than you thought,” he said, leaning against the wall behind him. A soft sigh escaped your lips right after the smoke left your mouth, and you glanced at him from above your shoulder, shrugging your shoulders like you didn’t really care. 

The light frown that appeared on his face was unexpected, you had to admit it. It wasn’t so rare to see him frown, but directed to you? With this small hint of worry? It was definitely new. “Don’t joke about that. You need to take a rest. When was the last time you slept for more than a three hour nap?” 

You looked away after his words and it was enough of an answer for him. He sighed before moving from the wall, stepping closer to you. He extended his hand to you, and you looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “Give them to me,” he said, and you were about to fight back when he took another step, even closer. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

You rolled your eyes and put your cigarettes between his fingers. He put them in his jacket, before looking back at you. You seemed frustrated, he could see it already. “I have an offer, you’re listening?” And simply nodded, listening to what he had to offer. 

This is how you ended up on the couch of his apartment after work. You were sitting in there, eyes closed as you finally let your body relax a little. He came back from the kitchen, putting a cup of tea on the table in front of you, before he sat next to you. He never thought you would accept, but here you were, taking a rest on his couch. 

“You look better without this frown on your face,” he said, a light grin dancing on his lips. You looked at him quickly, softly punching his shoulder. “I’m not frowning all the time,” you bite, and he chuckled a little. “Most of the time though,” he added, and it made you roll your eyes with a slightly amused smile. As you did, you turned your face away from him. 

You were always doing this. When you laugh, when you smile, all the time. You were never letting him see your smile. He didn’t like it. With a confidence he didn't know he had, his fingers slowly reached for your face. They held your chin in the most gentle way ever, making you look back at him. 

“Don’t hide yourself. I want to see your smile.” And you swore you could feel your cheeks softly burning up after his words. Since when was Higuruma this… gentle? He never seemed to be a rough man, but you never expected this either. He was your coworker, your friend. Not that you were complaining! But-

Your flood of thoughts got cut out by the soft smile that appeared on his own lips, making everything stop in your head. You simply looked at him in disbelief, and his fingers left your chin to brush a small strand of hair from your face. “I didn’t expect the blush, but I like it.” 

Of course he noticed. You hated yourself right now, hiding your face between your hands after he spoke. It made him chuckle once again, and you felt your heart racing in your chest. You slowly put your hands away, glancing back at him, clearly embarrassed by the situation. 

“You’re teasing me,’ you said in what was almost a whisper, and he slowly shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe, but I’m not lying.” And you couldn’t help the light smile that drew itself on your lips. I felt nice to finally feel safe with someone ; it had been a while since you did. 

So you ended up spending the night at his place, and a few more after this one. Slowly, taking a break became an excuse to see him after work, and he never said you no. After some time, you finally stopped hiding your smiles from him, because they were all directed to him, and him only. Because soon, Higuruma became more than a friend, and way more than a simple coworker. 

He became a safe place, the one you wanted to spend your life within.

thank you for reading!

[miaoua3]

Hi! I have been stalking your page for a while now and I love it! Could I please request a hc of husband Junhui, he's my bias and the sweetest cutie pie

hii! i'm so glad that you like my page! and ofc you can, i've been waiting for somebody to request something for my junnie, so i hope that you enjoy this!

Husband!Jun Headcanons:

•(sfw! hcs):

so very clingy in the morning, he won’t let you out of his arms, his arms are glued around your waist while he's hugging you from behind, his face buried in your neck, probably nuzzling his face on your skin every so often, he's just so cute and such a cuddle bug that you let him get away with it (no matter how badly you need to go to the bathroom lol)

if it happens that he's awake before you, he will most definitely make you breakfast in bed, he always feels like he isn't doing enough for you so this is one of the ways to repay you for everything that you do for him

he's always texting you, like no matter where he is or what he's doing, he always has a few seconds to spare to text you back and to remind you when he will be back and to ask if you need anything from the store, as well as to remind you that he loves you

if you ever thought that this man is anything other than the small spoon while cuddling, think again. there's no better feeling for him than burying his face in your titties, your soft fingers playing with his silky hair while his arms are wrapped around you, your soft voice talking in his ear either about your day or simply little words of encouragement to him. for him, home isn't necessarily the apartment you two live in, it's your arms and your heart

your bed is filled with plushies thanks to your dear husband. god forbid that you let him go shopping alone, he will be back with like 5 huge cat plushies (that he already named without you (which like, rude)). he just loves plushies, especially the ones that remind him of you two (he's such a cutie i love him)

you two rarely fight because if you two do end up fighting, he will 100% end up crying and let me tell you- the sight of jun crying while hiding in the bathroom because he didn't want you to see him how much your words affected him is probably the most heart-breaking thing you have ever witness, so now you two always try to talk it out

while he is quiet for the most part, whenever he's with you he lets loose and can't seem to shut up lol, he can talk with you for hours to no end, be that your conversations are light-hearted or more on the serious side. he has never had somebody who understood him on such a deep level like you do so he always feels so free to talk to you because he knows that you would never judge him

•(nsfw! hcs):

his favourite position to fuck you in is when you're both laying on your sides, your hubby from behind, holding your leg upwards, his lips and teeth glued to the back of your neck, biting and sucki8ng hickeys onto your skin. it just feels so good, plus sometimes he's just so tired that he can't even hold his own weight but he still wants to feel your tight pussy clenching around him so this is a great alternative. and if there's a mirror in front of you that he can see your face in? well you won't hear him complain

speaking of mirrors- he in general likes fucking you in front of one regularly. just something about bending you in front of him, your hands pressing into the cold glass, his own hand wrapped around your neck, his eyes looking deeply into your own from behind, his soft lips moaning into your own ear-it all just gets him going

i see that a lot of people see him as a sub, but tbh i don't see it at all, maybe a switch at best. i feel like a lot of people see him as this fragile and soft man, and i think that could affect how he views himself too. so i feel like he would want to show you just how strong he is through his actions in the bedroom. but trying to reassure him that he can be whoever he wants to be with you could probably help him relax and let you take the rains every so often during the sexy times. but i truly believe he leans more on the dom side

he is a titties lover first, a man second. he just loves your tits so much, he could spend literal hours just sucking on them, just imagine-him laying between your legs, his eyes closed in peace as he's sucking on your nipples and the skin around it, leaving a hickey or two every so often while his hand plays with your other one, your hands softly playing with his hair as you moan- yeah, he is the happiest man ever whenever you let him do this

not a very big talker during the deed, but a VERY big and enthusiastic moaner. he can't even control it, your pussy just feels so good wrapped around his big cock, pulsating around him as he's rocking into you, and it's just so warm and tight- how can he not moan in your ear when you feel so god?

is very much so into light food play, nothing too much, just leaving a bit of whipped cream on your titties and stomach, maybe a bit right above your pussy but nowhere close to it (he doesn't want you getting an UTI because of his kink) and just licking it away while he's worshiping your body is enough to satisfy his urge

very much a big enjoyer of a good ol' 69. there's just something about having you basically sit on his face, his lips locked around your own heat while your own struggle to take his cock all the way in. it's just so good, him struggling to eat you out properly and give you just as much pleasure as you're giving him-yeah, he loves it lol

[neversetyoufree]

Looking back, I wonder how much of Vanitas's choice in this scene is tied to the fact that he was given a choice in the first place.

So much of Vanitas's character is centered around the theme of self-determination (and the lack thereof). He is absolutely deprived of any control over his body and/or destiny at many of the key points in his life, and nowadays he's always desperately grasping at what few shards of self-determination he does have. This is why he freaks out when Roland talks about him being "under the vampires' power" in mémoire 15. It's why he's hung up on the idea of freedom as isolation from others' influence. It's why his main response to being triggered is to do something crazy and cause a scene; it puts him in control of the situation.

All that to say, when Luna destroys Moreau's lab and agrees to take Misha away, Vanitas must be desperate to feel some form of in-control, but I do not think he expects to be given any choice in what happens to him next. He's been conditioned not to expect that despite how much he wants it.

Vanitas certainly doesn't have much agency in how he lives his life as a child, as no kid gets to pick their parents or circumstances, and Vani has it especially rough with the death of his mother hanging over his head. Then his father dies protecting him, and he dies in a situation in which Vanitas is utterly powerless. Horror erupts into his life out of nowhere, and his dad throws himself in front of some fangs, and there's nothing Vanitas can do but watch it happen.

Next there's Vanitas's brief time training as a chasseur, which is one part of his history we know little about, so it's hard for me to say how free his choice was. He may have been pressured into joining, as we know the Chassuers aren't above pushy/manipulative recruitment of children (Astolfo), but I could also see his choice to hunt vampires made as a trauma response to the powerlessness of the vampire attack he survived. "I was powerless, so I'll claim the power to enact violence and make sure they can't hurt me or others again."

Then Vanitas is abducted by Doctor Moreau, which strips him of his agency just about as awfully as anything possibly could.

Vanitas the test subject has no bodily autonomy. He is poked and prodded and experimented on, because his body is an object of science to Moreau, not the vessel of a person with rights or self-determination. His only big active choices during his captivity are the choice to not run away for fear of somebody else suffering and the choice to volunteer in Mikhail's place. The only choices he can make are the choices to stay and throw himself even deeper into his own violation. Even his relationship with Misha is something that just kind of Happens to him. The kid is a force of nature that Moreau dumps on him without his say.

(This isn't Mikhail's fault, as Misha is just a child that wants affection, but having a needy, vulnerable little brother figure suddenly dropped on him in the midst of all that horror couldn't have made Vanitas feel less out of control).

Then Vanitas's torment by Moreau hits its climax, and Vanitas is told that not only has his body been violated by way of pain and torture—even his basic humanity has been and will be stripped from him. He now feels the disgust of having the blood of something he hates inside of him without his consent. And he's about to be killed, turned into a mindless husk of a "living key" instead of a person.

And that's when Luna shows up. This mysterious, incredibly powerful being appears and wreaks havoc on Moreau's lab like an avenging angel, and it agrees to Mikhail's request to take "us" along with it. Everything in Vanitas's life so far has taught him that he is powerless in the face of others' great power. Horrible shit just keeps happening to him forever, and this monstrous person sounds like they've just agreed to carry him off on Mikhail's request without a word of input from him. Of course he doesn't expect to be given a choice.

But he is.

Luna scoops up Mikhail, then they turn to Vanitas and ask if he would like to come along with them as well. After months or years of absolutely all of his autonomy and power being stripped away from him, the most powerful being Vanitas has ever encountered stops and gives him a choice about what he'd like to do next. They give him the option to go off on his own and decide his own fate rather than go along with them. And that's why Vanitas doesn't run away.

These are the images that flash through Vanitas's head right before he gets up and runs to Luna:

These moments are what inform Vanitas's choice. The memories of his father's death and Moreau's final experiment on him—his two most awful moments of abject helplessness.

When Vanitas runs to Luna and accepts their offer, these moments are what he's running from. He's fleeing from his inability to do anything or control his fate. He's running from a life of stolen agency. He's running toward the one adult who actually stopped and gave him a choice about what he'd like to do next.

Vanitas chooses Luna because they, despite having the power to kill or subdue him, give him the freedom to choose to accompany them in the first place. He's drawn to them not for protection, but as an escape to a life where he gets to keep making choices and grasp some agency.

Luna is the savior that gives Vanitas his freedom and autonomy back after it's stolen by Moreau. That's why it's so tragic that Vanitas carries their Mark in the present day. It's undeniable proof that, in their right mind or not, some version of Luna violated the fundamental trust and gift of autonomy that brought Vanitas into their family in the first place.

Luna's bite, both the physical violation and the transformation into inhumanity that it brings, is yet another way that Vanitas is stripped of all control of his body and fate.

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

𝒥𝐸𝒜𝐿𝒪𝒰𝒮-𝑅𝒜𝐹𝐸 𝒞𝒜𝑀𝐸𝑅𝒪𝒩 𝒳 𝐵𝐸𝒮𝒯 𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟!𝑅𝐸𝒜𝒟𝐸𝑅

Jason leaned against the table, flashing you a grin. “Hey, Y/N, haven’t seen you around lately. How’ve you been?”

You smiled politely. “Busy, you know how it is.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Jason said, his eyes lingering on you just a little too long. “You should come out more. We’re having a party this weekend, would be great to see you there.”

Rafe’s hand, which had been resting on the table, clenched slightly. His eyes flickered to Jason, then back to you. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the shift in his energy, like a storm cloud moving in.

Jason kept talking, his voice full of easy charm. “So, what do you say? I’ll save you a spot next to me.”

You chuckled awkwardly, feeling the tension growing beside you. “I’ll think about it.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “She’s busy this weekend.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of you. “Oh yeah? Didn’t know you had plans, Y/N.”

Before you could respond, Rafe leaned back in his chair, his tone sharp. “She does now.”

You shot Rafe a confused look, but Jason just shrugged, clearly sensing that he wasn’t welcome anymore. “Alright, well, if you change your mind, Y/N, you know where to find me.”

As Jason walked away, you turned to Rafe, narrowing your eyes. “What was that about?”

Rafe shrugged, his expression hard to read. “Nothing. Just didn’t like the guy.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“Don’t need to. He was flirting with you.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “So what? It’s not a big deal, Rafe.”

“It is when he’s all over you like that,” Rafe shot back, his voice low and tense. “What, you’re interested in him or something?”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “Why do you care?”

Rafe looked at you, his blue eyes suddenly intense, the easygoing vibe between you both now replaced with something heavier, something unsaid. “Of course I care. You’re my best friend.”

“And?” you prompted, feeling your heart race for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. “You’ve never acted like this before.”

Rafe stood up abruptly, running a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “I don’t know, alright? I just seeing him with you like that, it pissed me off. I didn’t like it.”

You rose to your feet too, trying to make sense of his reaction. “Rafe, why would it bother you? It’s not like there’s-“ You stopped yourself, realizing you were about to cross a line neither of you had ever dared approach.

He stepped closer to you, his gaze locking with yours. “It bothers me because I-“ He hesitated, his voice quieter now, vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. “Because I care about you, more than I probably should.”

The words hung in the air between you, the unspoken feelings that had always lingered beneath the surface finally breaking free. You stared at him, heart pounding. “Rafe…”

“I didn’t realize it until I saw him trying to get close to you,” Rafe admitted, his voice rough. “But I don’t want to just be your best friend anymore. I don’t want to see you with anyone else.”

Your breath caught, the weight of his confession sinking in. It was like everything between you shifted in that moment, the friendship you’d always relied on evolving into something deeper, something that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to surface.

You took a step closer to him, your voice barely a whisper. “You could’ve just told me.”

Rafe let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m an idiot.”

You smiled, reaching out to touch his arm. “Not an idiot. Just a little late.”

His eyes softened as he looked down at you, and in that moment, the space between you seemed to disappear. Without thinking, you leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, the tension dissolving as his arms wrapped around you.

When you pulled back, Rafe grinned, that familiar mischievous spark returning to his eyes. “So, no Jason then?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No Jason. Just you, Rafe.”

And just like that, everything changed, best friends, maybe, but now something more. Something that had been there all along, waiting for the right moment to finally be said.

[warlocksoup]

masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

chapter one

now playing: unfold by the forth wanderers

Osamu tried to snatch it away, once he noticed that Sakusa saw. But he was just a second too late. And it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. Sakusa saw. 

“Erased?” he repeats back, holding the card stock pinched between his fingers, eyebrows drawn together. “What the fuck does this mean?” 

“Exactly what you think it means,” Osamu replies pointedly, ripping the notice right out from between Sakusa’s fingers. The left corner of it slices the outermost layer of skin on his thumb. “She doesn’t remember you. It’s like you never met to her,” he explains, stuffing the card in his back pocket, expression hardened. 

Sakusa is positive he’s not hearing right. He can’t be. It’s loud, a football match on in the living room and Osamu’s got something going on the stove that is sizzling and popping and it must be impacting his hearing. Because Sakusa cannot fathom it, cannot imagine a reality where it’s like he never met her. He shakes his head. “No, that’s not-” 

“It is, man,” Osamu cuts him off. He sighs, and then turns his back to Sakusa, attention now on whatever it is he has on the stove. “Look, I tried to talk her out of it, but you know how she is. It’s not-once she makes her mind up about something, that’s it.” 

Sakusa knows how she is. He doesn’t need to be told anything about her. Not by anyone. Especially not by Osamu.

He shakes his head. Osamu turns his back on him again. “She wouldn’t do that,” he whispers, like he’s trying to convince himself. But his fingers are shaking and throat is constricting. Because Sakusa knows exactly how she is. He knows too well that she would. But still, he says it again, like the more he utters it, the truer it will become, “She wouldn’t do that to me.”

He stands there dumbly, his whole body feeling like it’s stuck and his heart beating too quickly to be comfortable. Osamu sighs, frustrated, fed up. “Can you just, can you just try to forget about her? It’s just gonna cause a whole bunch of problems if you try to fight your way back into her life again. And the last thing she needs is more problems from you.”

✶⋆.˚

Sakusa lays awake, sheets kicked off his legs and a thin layer of sweat on his neck. The blue that emits from his phone screen baths him light as his thumb eagerly scrolls through the minimal, unhelpful Lacuna Inc. website.

The slightly sliced up layer of skin from the stock card scrapes against his phone screen. It’s mindless corporate garble, freeing yourself from the shackles of your memories, moving forward in life without emotional scars, removing the deadweight of the past.

Each word widens the gaping hole in his chest. Is that what he was to her? Some festering, rotting emotional wound she had to remove? He feels his breathing quicken, and he drops his phone down by his side in favor of staring blankly at the ceiling.

Gone. He’s just gone from her life. He can recall every detail of her. Sakusa knows everything about her, and he always will. He carries her close to her chest like she’s a rib. She’s everywhere, everything. He wouldn’t give her up, not for anything. But she did it so immediately, so eagerly. She took Sakusa and she made him nothing. Not even a memory. Not even a second thought. Just nothing.

Sakusa closes his eyes. He just cannot accept that.

✶⋆.˚

Recorded 08/09 @ Lacuna Inc., 08:45AM

“Why is it that you want Sakusa Kiyoomi removed from your memory?”

“It’s just like, he’s everywhere. He’s in everything I see and everything I do. He’s become this voice inside my head, and I can’t get rid of him no matter what I do. It’s like he’s invaded every part of my life and it just hurts. I can’t live like this. I can’t keep going on just like,  carrying him around with me. I just want him gone.”

✶⋆.˚

She places his coffee down on the counter between them and smiles the way you would at a stranger. “For Sakusa,” she says, sweetly, politely.

He takes it and tries his hardest to brush his fingers against hers in the transfer, but she’s quick to pull her hand away. Sakusa stands there for a moment, lingering as he holds his coffee, giving her the opportunity to say something.

She says nothing. Like he has been every single day he’s been coming here. His shoulders deflate a bit as he moves to turn on his heel.

“Y’know,” she calls after him, and Sakusa freezes, those deflated shoulders now stiffened, and he turns back around to face her.

She’s smiling at him, coy and intrigued. He recognizes it. He knows it. He knows that look on her face and it makes his heart leap to his throat. Sakusa swallows before he answers. “Yes?”

She places two hands on the counter and leans in his direction. Sakusa feels like he can’t move. “I can’t figure out why you come in here everyday.”

Sakusa hopes his hands not shaking when he holds up the hot coffee she just made for him. “I like the coffee,” is his simple reply.

“Yeah,” she nods, “and that’s why you throw it out in that trash right out there the first chance you get?” she teases, using the tip of her chin to gesture towards the trashcan that sits right outside the coffee shop.

Sakusa burns red. He didn’t think she’d see that. He didn’t think she’d noticed him. He can’t think of anything to say, so he says nothing.

“At first I thought you were coming here for me, but that can’t be right, since you never asked for my number,” she sighs, studying her fingers and how they’re splayed out on the countertops. “Which is kind of a bummer for me. I’d really like to give you my number.”

Sakusa face feels hot, and he can’t imagine how stupid he looks, burning red and caught, nervous like some stupid kid. “You would?” he questions.

He doesn’t feel like himself. He never really felt like himself whenever he was around her. Not before, not now. Something about her has always made him feel undone. She smiles, and he’s disarmed. “Yeah, I dunno. It’s just something about you. I’ve thought so ever since you first came in.”

There she is. Overly familiar. Not a trace of embarrassment. Not a single part of her ashamed or hesitant. He always loved that about her. That was always the way she loved him. Bold and unabashed. “Something about me?” he echoes back.

“Something about you,” she confirms with a gleeful nod of her head. “I just feel like I need to know you, y’know?”

He knows. Sakusa knows.

taglist: @wyrcan @causenessus @lunasfics @19calicos @ciderscape @mollyrolls @sunsribn @savemebrazilhinata @geektastic84 @dailyakira @cupidsblonde @dazqa @lialia3945 @yxcntruu @baylz @deluluforcarlos55 @sleepystrwbrryy @winniethepooh-lover @miiola @scxrcherr @moonlightjade @superboywife @madiexuberant @alexithemiyatic @evening-latte @kiyoramen @acowboykisser @mayharrison500 @osaammuu @uhsakusa @renardiererin @cheriisae @honeyfewr @nazwrites-2002 @jadeoru @asrinchin

[hebuiltfive]

Vis-à-Vis: A Mini Earth and Sky Story

Very rough around the edges and read-through only once, but inspired by the prompt : "He's just worried about you. We all are." which can be found here.

More notes at the end!

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

Scott slammed the door to his Bugatti shut. He pulled his peacoat closer around himself, burying his chin in his scarf and, with hands tucked into his pockets, began to stride away from the car.

It was always the same. It was always “everyone is worrying about you, so open up immediately” and never “take you time, tell us when you’re ready”. Every goddamn time! Scott was becoming tired of all the questions, all the probing. They all thought it was innocent and helpful, and he didn’t have the heart to tell them that it wasn’t, that all their fretting made him feel worse.

Like that was even possible at this point.

He heard the passenger door shut and feet shuffling along the cobblestones as Virgil hurried along behind, trying to catch up with his older brother.

“Scott, come on!” Virgil called. “It’s a valid question!”

“I don’t ever remember you thinking that when I’ve probed into your private life, Vee. Neither his!”

“He’s just worried about you.” The Tank let out the softest sigh. “We all are.”

That wasn’t news to Scott. He continued to stroll ahead. Normally, Scott would have slowed his usual pace so Virgil could keep up, but not today. Today, he kept on walking, leaving his brother to trail along behind him. Yes, they were supposed to be having a lovely day out together, but had he known the trip would have been used as a way to further interrogate him, Scott wouldn’t have agreed to come along in the first place.

“For the last time, Virgil,” Scott ground out, every word laced with irritation, “there is nothing to worry about!”

“Forgive me for not believing you, but you always say that, even when it isn’t true.”

“This time is different.”

“You always say that too.”

Scott stopped in his tracks, turning to face his brother as Virgil came to a stand in front of him. He really didn’t want his irritation to mar their trip — it wasn’t everyday when the two of them could spend time together — but if Virgil didn’t drop the topic soon, he feared it might become inevitable.

“You know you’d be asking the exact same questions if you were in our shoes, Scotty.”

"I know.”

The truth was that he did know, and that was the problem. Scott knew exactly what he’d be saying, which curses he’d be using, if the positions were switched. It didn’t make him second-guess his choices, but it certainly made opening up that much harder.

“We just want to know you’re safe.”

“I am safe!” He pleaded but Virgil tilted his head. He could see through his brother’s uncertainty before Scott even realised he was letting it show. Scott sighed. “I’m trying to be.”

“It’d be a whole lot easier if you let us in.”

“You know I can’t do that. Not at the moment. It’s too soon, too early.”

“I get that, I do, but don’t leave it too late so it ends up becoming a problem you have to try and defend rather than reveal.”

They reached their destination; a tea shop in the centre of a quaint, nondescript English town. As Scott opened the door, the bell above tinkled.

He picked a table by the window, with a view down the cobblestoned hill and Virgil took the seat opposite him.

His brother unbuttoned his coat and threw it over the back of his chair. “If you need to talk to someone about it, I promise I won’t tell the others anything.”

Scott grinned, his eyes twinkling. “What? Are you offering to give me free therapy sessions now?”

“I’m in no way qualified enough to talk through all your issues, bro, but on this one… I can listen, as a brother. As a friend.”

Scott unfastened his own jacket, pulling the scarf from his neck and laid them out nearly over the back of his own seat. “You promise you won’t tell the others?”

“I swear it.”

Virgil’s eyes were sincere, trustworthy to a fault. There was a reason he was the only one who the others always went to with their secrets; when Virgil said he’d keep the to himself, he always meant it. Scott had always appreciated that, no time more so than now.

They sat and they spoke, Scott more than Virgil, and his brother offered no judgement, as they drank their way through cups of steaming coffee and ate their way through a few slices of cake. It felt like a weight had been lifted off Scott’s shoulders, albeit temporarily — he would still face the curious questions from his younger brothers once they returned home.

Clouds covered the wintery sun and, after an hour or so, the two of them stood up, donned their coats once again, and left the tea shop in favour of a brisk walk down to the coastline. For most of their stroll, their conversation ventured into nonsense, commenting on the bare trees that, only months ago, had bloomed in glorious green, or taking silly selfies next to crumbling, ancient brick walls that lined the stairway down to the beach. There were a few groups of small families that passed them with polite smiles, unaware of who the two brothers were or simply allowing them to get on with their day. Either way, Scott was thankful.

Virgil led the way onto the beach, trailing over to a group of rocks, a little way back from the ocean, that were empty. He lifted himself up and sat himself down, looking out over the pale blue ahead. Unlike Scott’s hair, which was firmly held in place with his favourite gel, Virgil’s barnet was more malleable with the breeze. He observed his brother’s quiet peace, tranquil despite the bombshell that Scott had dropped on him during their visit to the tea shop.

He sat on another rock, slightly lower than the large one Virgil sat atop. Once again, he buried his chin in his scarf and he closed his eyes. With a deep inhale, Scott breathed in the salty air.

“How long do you reckon I have until the press got hold of the story?” He asked without opening his eyes.

For a long moment, Virgil was silent. Scott began to wonder if his brother had heard him, or whether he’d indeed spoken his question out loud. Then, he heard the clearing of his brother’s throat.

“Depending on how reckless you are, I’d give it a month.”

“I can work with that.”

“Are you sure?”

The doubt in Virgil’s tone, after having opened up to him, sliced through Scott like a knife through butter, but he knew Virgil had every right to doubt him. It was one thing to say it, and another to mean it and act upon it.

“I’ll talk to them tonight.”

“Scott, you don’t have to if you’re not ready—”

“I’ll have to do it eventually, Vee, and there’s no time like the present. It’s better to rip the bandaid off now, else I’ll just keep delaying it until it’s too late.”

He felt a hand gently pat his shoulder. Scott peeked one eye open, up at his brother who was smiling at him softly. “It won’t be as bad as you think.”

“You say that, but you’re not the one who’ll have to feel Gordon’s wrath.”

Virgil chuckled, deep and warm. “Eh, he’ll get over it. Bribe him with his favourite brownies and you’ll be back on his Good List in no time.”

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

I purposefully left Scott's secrets as a secret. It didn't feel like a big enough piece to try and explore that (and lord knows i don't need another big story project right now).

The location also changes because I was suddenly inspired to write them on the beach.

Idk, it's messy, but I'm trying to quit the habit of making everything perfect and do little one-offs. Prompts are the best for that, I find, with a few exceptions.

[drunkenbagel]

Hi *shy wave*

There’s so few people on here do Pedro pascal x reader fics 😭

Could you perhaps do one where reader is a director and dating Pedro secretly and he wants to go public but she’s worried about his fans?

Please and thank you 😊

yes of course!! i love writing of dearest pedrito hehe. thanks so much to you for reading, hope you like it <3

🎥private screenings🎥

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader Word count: 2k Content: angst but happy ending, no use of y/n, fluff ending

“Okay, take 30 to rest people! Thank you! Good work!” you shouted so everyone on set could hear.

Everyone relaxed and went to do different things, some to snack, some got lost in the set. You left your headset on your chair and hopped off. A couple of people stopped you to as questions about the next scenes, and you tried to answer them as fast as you could while walking.

You walked outside of the studio and over to where the trailers were. While you were at the door of the trailer you were looking for, you looked at both your sides so you could make sure no one saw you there, and knocked softly three times. Almost immediately, a hand yanked you inside, making you yelp in surprise.

“About time.”

You scoffed and were going to answer, but Pedro held your face with one hand, sneaking the other around your waist, and kissed you. You closed your eyes at the contact and sighed, melting into the kiss.

“Missed you” he said in a whisper, linking your forehead with his.

“It's only been a couple of days” you said with a small laugh, caressing his face softly while kissing him again. “You can get free days off of filming, but I have to be there almost always”

“We can always make it public so I can visit you whenever I'm free, that way I could kiss you or hold your hand whenever we wanted”

You sighed, getting annoyed at his words. “We talked about this, Pedro. We can't do that”

“But why? We're both consenting adults and can make choices!”

You were growing more and more annoyed by his words, getting away from his hold. “I am a director, Pedro. It can be seen as an abuse of power, and there could be serious consequences. Not to mention your raging fanbase, who would very much hate me.”

“That's not true” he protested with a sigh. “I know the fans can be a little intense sometimes, but they'd come around. They essentially like my acting and want me to be happy, and if they don't then they're not fans.”

You walked away from him while grunting, running your hands through your hair. “No! We've discussed it a hundred times. Really, can you not respect my decision?”

“Your decision also affects me too! Haven't you thought about that? It's not only you!” he shouted. “Haven't you thought how it hurts me to keep you a secret for so long? It sucks!”

“If it sucks so much maybe we need to rethink this!” you shouted back.

The moment the words came out from your mouth, you regretted them. You didn't want to break up. Fuck no. This was the best thing you ever had, the most precious and sweetest person. You looked at him, and he was frozen with a shocked expression. His eyes were teary too, and when a tear fell down your cheek you furiously wiped it off your face.

Why did you always fuck good things up?

“I have to go.”

You started to walk to the door, and opened it, but before you could say anything, Pedro stopped you, grabbing your wrist.

“Don't do this” he whispered, and you didn't turn around, but you could feel the tears in his voice. You didn't want to start crying, not when you still had quite a few hours of filming ahead.

“My break is done soon” you said, letting go of his grasp, walking to your set. On the way there you had to stop on a bathroom to splash your face with cold water and gather your thoughts. You were sure you left Pedro crying, and that broke your heart, knowing it was your fault.

You're a fucking idiot, your mind said to yourself in the mirror. Driving away the best thing you ever had over some stupid secrecy.

When you felt less shaky, you splashed your face with cold water again and went back to your chair, resuming your work. At least you had a distraction for a few more hours.

·-·-·-·-·

When you got home you walked to your room and let yourself fall down to your bed with a grunt. You couldn't stop thinking of Pedro for the whole filming, of the sadness and hurt you saw in his eyes was consuming your mind constantly.

And it was your fault.

You hurt the most happy, adorable, harmless and loving person you could find, and you hated yourself for it. And why? Because he wanted to share you with the world. But it wasn't as simple as that and you knew it. Unfortunately as a director and a woman you could probably face a hell lot of backlash for having a relationship with a coworker. Because it had started as that, developing into the most beautiful, unique and amazing relationship you've ever had.

You were just afraid of the hate wave that would come over you, especially since Pedro was very, very loved by the public. And you loved him for it, he was the sweetest person with everyone, so down to earth even with the huge rise of his fame. He was great, and you were just average. You felt like if your relationship would come out, he would realize that he could do better and just leave. You were so, so afraid of it.

A groan left your mouth again on the pillow. You were so worried of messing up your career after everything you went through to be where you were. Unfortunately, being a woman in the industry and climbing up the ladder of success was still hard. But still, you wanted to be able to kiss Pedro any time you wanted, have him by your side without having to be wary of other people, hold his hand...

“Goddammit” you muttered, taking your phone from your back pocket and unlocking it.

You weren't going to let your fear get the worst of you this time. You opened Pedro's chat and sent a text:

“Sorry for the time, but can we talk?”

You left your phone in your nightstand and changed into a comfortable clothes for bed. He wasn't probably going to answer, it was very late. After letting out a shaky sigh and getting into bed, you turned the lights off and covered yourself with the duvet. You couldn't sleep, and ended up moving around in bed.

The sudden buzz of your phone made you jump to check it. It was him. It was a message from Pedro.

“Can I go to your place?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Now? I mean, you preferred to talk face to face, but... Ah, what the hell.

“I'll be waiting.”

A few minutes after you sent the message, you heard a couple of knocks in your door. You bolted from the bed to the entrance, and tried to tidy yourself up in the mirror by the door the best you could. With a hand on the handle, you let out a shaky breath and summoned all the courage you could before opening the door.

And there he was, with tired and sad eyes, waiting at the other side of your door.

“I... I'm sorry, I was just in a bar nearby, and-”

“No need to be sorry. Please, come in” you interrupted, stepping aside so he could come in. You both sat on the couch beside the other awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

“I want to apologize” you said looking at your fidgeting hands, in a whisper. “For my behaviour. My words. I know I was cruel and I didn't mean it. I- I need you to know that I didn't mean it and I don't want to break up, that's- That's the last thing I want.”

“I shouldn't have pushed you” he said, not looking at you either.

“That's what I wanted to talk about.”

“I got it, I won't do it again. I'm sorry.”

“No you won't, because I don't want to keep the secret anymore” you said, and as soon as the words left your mouth, he looked at you, confused. You repositioned yourself on the sofa, facing him.

“I've been so scared, so obsessive with not letting anyone infiltrate my personal life, that I haven't let myself enjoy it fully. At first the secrecy was exciting, and I guess I grew accustomed to it. But you said it yourself, by keeping our relationship private I'm just hurting you, which is the last thing I want to do. That made me realize what an idiot I've been trying to protect myself from the hate that I don't even know if it'll come! I-” you took a deep breath. “If it does happen, I'm more than willing to go though it, because you're worth it. You deserve a partner that loves you loudly and proudly and I want to be able to do that because I love you.”

Pedro's mouth twitched and you thought that maybe you went too far, or gave too much of a speech. He stayed silent for a couple of seconds, and then a big smile painted his lips, eyes a bit teary.

“You don't have to do that” he said, a hand going up to your cheek to cup it. “You don't have to come out of your comfort zone”

“I've had you in the privacy of my comfort for way too long, and I think it's time that I enhance that zone. I want to be able to hold your hand, kiss you whenever I want-”

Pedro interrupted you with a quick kiss. You let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, well, just like that. So, if it's okay by you, I won't be needing to keep the secret anymore.”

“I love you” he said again and again while peppering your face with small kisses all over. You couldn't help but laugh at the tickling. When he finished with the small attack, you linked your foreheads together.

“I have to get up in a few hours to go to the studio, but please stay? I don't want you walking around at this hours of the night.”

“Alright, I have to go too anyways.”

He took his clothes off and you both went back to bed, falling asleep in the arms of one another.

Next morning you got up earlier than him, showered and started making coffee. Taking two mugs, you carried them to the bedroom and left them in the bedside table. Pedro hummed when he heard you.

“Good morning sunshine” you said, kissing his face. He opened his eyes slowly and smiled.

“Hey” he said with a raspy voice. “Is that coffee I smell?”

“Fresh out for you” you said, reaching to the small table and giving him one cup and sipping out of the other. You both stayed in the bed until finishing your coffees, talking and laughing.

After that, Pedro got dressed with some clean clothes he had at your place and you both got into your car to go to work. Before going out of your car you had to breathe a couple of times, anxiety getting a bit high.

“It's okay” said Pedro. “We don't have to go out at the same time”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry” you apologized. You let out a breath. “Okay, let's go.”

Both of you got out of the car and he took your hand while he walked up to your set, which made you smile. “Here's my stop”

“I'll see you later?” he said looking at you, still holding your hand.

“I think I finish before you, so I'll get some lunch for us both, sound good?” you said while smiling. You could feel some stares, but you didn't tear your eyes apart from his. You got closer, leaning into him until you gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I love you. See you later”

He couldn't help but smile. “Yeah, see you later darlin'”

You watched him as he left the building, and one of your friends from filming came up to you.

“Care to explain, darlin'?” she said in a mocking tone with a smile.

“Short answer, that's my boyfriend. I'll give you the long one if you have a while” you said laughing while she locked your arms together.

[herefortheships]

I guess Bj wouldn't be as kind and selfless to let Lydia marry someone else, so is the dream theory more realistic?

I guess it depends entirely on interpretation, but my take on it is that for Betelgeuse to be selfish and possessive enough of Lydia to intervene in her relationships it would depend on the person she's involved with and how the relationship is going. Like I mentioned before in this post, he simply might not have had the power to intervene or even reach Lydia beyond just projecting flashes of his presence around her, when she was with Richard, but I can also believe that he just let her go and be happy during that time. However, he definitely wanted to intervene in her relationship with Rory, because Rory was a toxic partner and would eventually destroy Lydia. He was already destroying her, as a matter of fact. So in this case, Betelgeuse would never allow this man to have his Lydia, no way. He'd have done anything possible to get in the way.

When it comes to Lydia, Betelgeuse is just different. Lydia is special and he does love her, so he might just have been putting her best interest and her happiness first when she was with Richard, even above his own feelings, which is big for someone like Betelgeuse if you ask me. I don't know for sure how long he was like trapped in the model before Barbara and Adam dug him up (probably since the moment Adam built the model?), but my assumption is that even before he was bound to the model he was strapped down some other way by Juno in the afterlife (and if I add my own little headcanon, even before he was stopped by Juno he was an aimless spirit unable to move on, bound to the ritual of marriage), so Lydia is definitely the first woman he loved since Delores (don't think there were other ghost ladies in his afterlife, is what I mean), it would be natural that he became possessive of the one person he made a connection with in hundreds of years. Lydia is the first woman he's fallen in love with since Delores. This is confirmed in the wedding dance scene. That said, if he loves her truly, part of loving someone is letting them go if their happiness depends on it. (Once Lydya is free after Rory, though, the story is different; now Betelgeuse has a shot and I don't see him letting her go any time soon 😉).

I already shared my thoughts about the Dream Theory before, but I can add a little more here to answer the question more completely. While I personally have a different interpretation of the events in the movie, I do find the Dream Theory very intriguing and interesting to read. I can say in some ways it can be more realistic, considering Betelgeuse's nature, and looking at Lydia as a character. Lydia is attracted to the darkness; she likes the strange and unusual, and she described herself as such in the first movie. She might have at some point called on Betelgeuse after the Maitlands moved on, and opted to live with him rather than to live with another living person. The first Beetlejuice movie doesn't really go into Lydia's head when it comes to Betelgeuse. It could be that any persistent negative ideas she had about him were all put in her head by Barbara. As she grew older she might have changed the way she viewed him and even be intrigued by him. The Maitlands were definitely more her parents than Charles and Delia ever were, and Lydia always connected more with the dead than the living (we can throw in Astrid's resentment about this fact here as a reflection of guilt in Lydia's subconscious about it, if Astrid truly is a dream figure existing only in the dream). This is all speculative, of course, but yes I don't think it's unrealistic to conclude that it was all a construct of Betelgeuse's power. I have a different interpretation, which I talked about in the post linked above.

When it comes to Lydia, Betelgeuse is softer, and I think he would do pretty much anything for her. Whether that is being selfless and allowing her the freedom to love someone else, when he failed to reach her, or building a dreamverse for her to experience the things she can't have while being his forever partner.

[well-look-at-this]

Contending with You

a/n: this is probably a structural mess but wtv no beta we die like a wet rat. i have not seriously written long-form prose in who KNOWS how long lol but the demons got me tonight. i seriously need to know how to change the font on tumblr,,, times new roman i miss you,,,

@person8789 i finished this with cater just for you lmfao enjoy

summary: a depressing ramble-y character study on twisted wonderland characters will likely do more in the future :) if you want to discuss or expand or seek clarification on anything come to my ask box!!! do it!!!

includes: Idia, Azul, Ruggie, Cater

Thinking about Idia and his isolation. Raised in a lab where everything is valued under efficacy and logic. How the only human thing in his life was a little brother, lost and replaced with a mechanical perversion. A snapshot of his perception, ultimately a gaping wound in its unchanging existence as everything moves on around it. Thinking about Idia and his genius; how he lacks the social exposure to really understand how different he is–but he feels it anyway every time someone tries to really talk to him–and how he’ll never really be able to feel understood or connected. Thinking about how he surrounds himself with cold logical machines and only speaks to his robotic brother. Who dismisses anything not categorized as his expect behavior; never straying from his coding. Thinking about how Idia Shroud is less man and more machine.

Thinking about how Azul is trapped. Bullied for things that were never true and things that shouldn’t have mattered. Child of divorce–he learned young the faults with emotional attachment; always make sure you get it on paper. People let you down, and they’ll take more than is theirs did his dad ever say goodbye? I guess it’s a good thing he was young enough that a good replacement could fill that void. Talent for mental arithmetic; how long has he been counting? Calories, kilograms and grades–quantifiable achievements he makes but are just never quite enough. Thinking of his only close friends and how he trusts them transactionally as well–one day they won’t find me amusing anymore and they’ll leave, that’s just the fact of the matter–but he trusts them because he can expect the way it ends. Thinking about how he calculates his losses like controlling the pain can make it hurt less. Thinking about how he’s changed so much, but in his head he’s still the scared wounded kid being jeered at and always will be no matter how much he achieves and disproves it. Thinking about how Azul Ashengrotto can’t see himself as anything more than what they told him he could be.

Thinking about Ruggie and the things he carries. Thinking about cracked lips in savannah wasteland heat and being another set of barely fed bones in the bunch. About learning young to kill the things that won’t keep you fed; morals you need that wallet more than them, pride shove the bile down what’s a couple bruises if it means you get to eat, safety you’re already on the knives edge. Thinking about him becoming familiar with death far too much far too young. Funerals like morning weather, keep moving, if you stop it’s over just another body forgotten by lunch. Thinking about how despite everything he still cares too much. Comfortably fed at school and still working jobs every free minute so maybe one less kid starves back home. Unashamedly cozying up to the biggest predator in the ring in the hopes of scraps. Staying with a smile when the beast nearly kills you, and he’s left with a glower instead of an apology. But it didn’t matter, ruggie expects every day could be his last so it never really bothered him. Thinking of Ruggie Bucchi; the dead man walking.

Thinking about Cater’s absence. How he’s always there in the center of the crowd but never in the room. Thinking about all the pieces that got left behind with every new school and old house. How nobody was around to notice it. Sister’s too interested in making him what they wanted to see. Leaving behind everything that hurts, figuring out how to not really care. Thinking about how he hates a found family trope because he can never have it. Even if he did he’d rather not, he’s too tired of the moving on and forgetting with every fizzeled out friendship. Thinking about being so good at what people want you to be you’ve made magic out of it. Everyone’s favorite senior Cater. So many different caters and no way to tell which is real. If people think you’re shallow they’ll leave you alone, they won’t try to know you and they won’t care. Who barely even knows who he is anymore himself. Thinking about Cater five years from nrc who’s forgotten Heartslabyul in every way that matters and didn’t stay in touch. Who carved out too much and left himself hollow and brittle. Thinking of Cater Diamond the What’s Her Face doll.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Sorry to bother you i really want to hear your mipha/miphlink thoughts as a mipha fan x)

Favourite mipha/miphlink headcanon? OR favourite thing to see in a mipha/miphlink fic? :> feel free to ignore this if you don't have any answers lol

Not bothering me at all! :)

Let’s see, idk if I have a favorite so here are some headcanons I have for Mipha:

She’s an enneagram type 2 with a 1 wing. In English, that means she’s a caregiver with a strong sense of justice and doing the right thing, making her a compassionate and kindhearted protector. But she can go too far with this, basing her own worth on her ability to care for others, pushing her own needs aside. She wants to help everyone, and what good is she if she can’t?

Mipha has been crown princess of the Zora and admired by her people for the majority of her life. She’s very aware that she’s constantly being watched, and between that self awareness and being a caregiver to others, hardly anyone knows what she’s actually like when she’s at ease (the Bazz Brigade is the exception)

Mipha’s shyness around Link has nothing to do with not knowing how to act when under his scrutiny—they’ve been friends since they were kids. Instead it’s based upon a fear of altering or destroying their relationship if he doesn’t harbor the same affections for her. (And a smidge of awkwardness because why is she feeling this way around him)

Mipha’s always wanted to be a mother. Nurturing is a natural part of her personality. As she and Link actually develop a romantic relationship, she struggles with reconciling the fact that she probably will never have kids of her own, but she and Link talk about adopting (at the time they don’t know they can actually have kids together)

Mipha is very curious about the world, but her adventurous side is dependent entirely upon who she is with. When with someone more timid than her, she pushes them to explore with her and open up to everything. When with someone far more reckless, she’s usually the voice of caution. The exception to this rule is Link: she knows him well enough, knows his capabilities, and loves going on adventures with him.

Her favorite color is blue, particularly the shade that appears when the luminous stones reflect in Link’s eyes

While Mipha is more than willing to fight, she thinks she’s the weakest of the champions. Logically, that means she’s the most likely to die. The best way she can cope with this is to prepare those around her for her death in the subtlest way possible so as not to alarm anyone. She doesn’t really expect to survive the Calamity, but she’s trying to find peace with that. She just hopes she’s wrong, but she has to prepare herself mentally.

This thought process leads to her being conflicted about admitting her feelings to Link. If she dies, she doesn’t want to break his heart if he says yes (which she doesn’t dare to hope). If he says no she’ll feel all the lonelier during her final months. But if neither is the case, she… perhaps it’s selfish, she supposes, but she wants to be loved, and she wants him to know how she feels. Eventually this last part wins out. (At least in the botw timeline - I feel like Link probably would admit his feelings first in AoC after Mipha is almost killed since it seems less time passes between them before the calamity in this version)

Mipha is very proud of her ability to heal and it’s the thing that makes her happiest.

Mipha is simultaneously the mother and the baby of the champions. She’ll try to nurture and help everyone, and literally everyone will do everything they can to take care of her in return.

She isn’t used to exploring her own emotions and is therefore very private about them. Hence her freaking out over the thought of anybody reading her diary.

As for what I like to see in Mipha/Miphlink stories… admittedly I haven’t read too many, but anything that gives Mipha some depth makes me happy. She’s very sweet in the game, and you can kind of glean more from her based on her behavior and actions, but she is very much… idk, she’s not written poorly, but I don’t know how to describe it. She’s almost written too perfect? Not because she’s without flaws, she’s just seen from the nostalgia of others and rarely has a lot of screen time in memories, so it makes her a little less relatable sometimes. But there’s a lot you can glean from context and the story, so I do like her character. I just want to see her with depth! Lots of fanfics just make her the quiet, demure, sweet little champion and that’s it.