#and I’ve struggled most of my life so that��s saying something

[p1utofairy]

★ WHICH COMIC BOOK COUPLE ARE YOU AND YOUR PERSON MOST LIKE?

NOTE — love and light my babies ⭐️🧿 take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. for entertainment purposes only. your feedback is always so greatly appreciated, enjoy!

— PILE 1.

channeled couple(s) → batman x catwoman + jean grey x cyclops.

your person is a very hands-on, actively involved and dynamic individual who thrives in fast-paced environments. they’re very resourceful and can turn a negative into a positive in the blink of an eye – a true problem solver if you will. they learn things/adapt quicker than most and i feel like a lot of people regard them as an amazing friend. your person is very inquisitive and always wants to know more. once they complete a task, they’re on to the next; it can be hard to pin them down for long periods of time. they might move around a lot physically (could have OCD) but i’m more so picking up that they’ve lived here, there and everywhere.

they’re always on the go! i’m also picking up that your person is a little bit of a control freak but gosh they can't help it; they truly love to lead and be of service. you’re gonna find this so hot lowkey lol which is funny because i think you typically go for someone that let’s you control things and have the upper hand but with this person it’s not like that. their sense of control is different though — it’s not possessive, like “you’re mine!” or “no, you can’t go out wearing that!” instead, it’s more about seeing you struggle with something and insisting on helping you with it. you might say, “no, i’ve got it,” but they’ll respond, “here, just let me…” you get frustrated because you just said you could handle it, but there they go, taking it from your hands and easing the stress and pain you were carrying. wow, that was such a descriptive scenerio but it just randomly came to me lol. it’s giving 6H energy!

11:11 on the clock i’m blushing hehe your person is super sweet and chivalrous it’s very charming, pile 1. don’t even get me started on their physique WHEW you’re gonna love their arms/biceps…your person might even have a lot of tattoos (i’m seeing sleeve tats) and i can just see you fighting the urge to playfully bite them lol. they could be very athletic and go to the gym a lot. now switching gears, the comic book couples that similarly mirrors your connection is jean grey x cyclops + batman and catwoman. some of y’all might be rolling your eyes at the mention of jean and scott (my wolverine girlies i’m talking to you) but HERE ME OUT and let me cook!

i feel like you’re more of a wanderer and don’t care to be as involved as your person is, if that makes sense? gypsy by fleetwood mac just started playing in my mind. trials and tribulations throughout your life might have caused you to turn inwards, and you feel unsure about what it is your supposed to be doing/where life is exactly taking you. your presence is more calm and still and your person is again, more hands on and out there. like jean grey, you are very clever and passionate but there’s a temperamental side to you. you might have strong air sign placements in your chart because i feel that you’re very rational about your emotions – sometimes to a fault. i think you hold back a lot of the times (especially when it comes to love) in fear of hurting other people’s feelings or just being misunderstood. some of you could have people-pleasing tendencies. your person gives that scott summers vibe because their actions are typically driven by a sense of duty rather than a desire to please others.

whether you know it or not, you wield a lot of power and sometimes i think people take your kindness for weakness. what your person is really going to admire about you is how intentional you are especially when it comes to giving/receiving love. you are so gentle and kind with your person – soooo doting and attentive. you two deadass have a telepathic connection cause when one person is feeling off, the other one can sense it. your person is also tryna be funny and say that you’re used to dealing with logans (wolverine) but they’re coming to change that. LMAOOOO your person is funny as fuck if you couldn’t already tell.

you both compliment each other so well, spiritually and physically. that’s why i also channeled batman x catwoman because y’alls vibe just gives that. y’all know those crazy ass tiktok/IG comments when people are like i need to see the tape PLS yeah…y’all evoke that reaction from people. you both find each other incredibly sexy like the sexual tension between you both is gonna be insaneeeee. i’m also sensing a bit of a bratty energy coming from your end in terms of the attention your person gets lol they might be very sought after. it’s reminding of the ending scene of ‘the batman’ when selena is urging batman to come with her and part of him is superrrr tempted but duty calls. i promise you that your person only wants you, though. like i’m being so deadass when i say that they’re literally gonna be devoted to you.

OTHER CHANNELED MESSAGES —

“i work alone”, you might be used to the wolverine types but what you really need is a scott summers, back to black by amy winehouse, spotless mind by jhené aiko, maneater by nelly furtado, dylan, slayyyter, dua lipa, ESFJ, ISTJ, resemblance to callum turner, 333, sagittarius, 6H cancer, capricorn rising, 555.

— PILE 2.

channeled couple(s) → daredevil x elektra + rogue x gambit.

oooo right off the bat i’m hearing stand still by sabrina claudia. you’re so unaware that we're feeling, the same thing, the same damn thing…time is standing still and why are we still here? interesting, pile 2. very interesting! you and your person are more alike than you would think. from the outside you both appear very different, but energetically you both are sooo compatible. i’m hearing “from different worlds” and being drawn to the movie aladdin lol maybe that’s one of your favorite disney movies or your person’s? i think that’s why i was picking up on elektra x daredevil because it’s like…you and your person’s upbringing differed in a way but there’s a common ground in terms of how it’s shaped you both. one of you is more forward and hasty while the other is more reluctant and calculated.

you feel very confined and limited…like your environment is just so repetitive and boring. you’ve been hoping for something new to manifest – and you feel like you’re on the brink of it, it’s like you can almost reach out and touch it. for most of you, this is in regards to your connection with this person but for other’s it’s a job/traveling opportunity of some sort. you could possibly live in a very small town or somewhere that doesn’t have a lot to offer/keep you occupied. you’re about to see some progress sooner than you think, pile 2. give it about 1-3 months and watch how the magic happens! sagittarius season could be very significant for you.

your person is going to come into your life HOT and HEAVY, omg. you’re gonna be like wait wtf when did you get here?! nobody’s supposed to be here by deborah cox is playing in my head now – i’ve tried that love thing for the last time…my heart says no, no! nobody's supposed to be here…but you came along and changed my mind. LMAOOOO well pile 2 get ready cause your person is gonna sweep you off your damn feet. now it makes sense why i channeled rogue x gambit for you two because it’s like you’re taking of risk of some sort…the risk being your heart. trusting someone romantically is like risky business for you.

you’re so used to being able to predict outcomes and know what’s going to happen next, but with this person uhn uhn things are not so black and white. actually, there’s a lot of grey areas and that’s what’s going to scare you yet intrigue you about this person. you’re so rogue coded, awww. rogue has the ability to absorb the powers and memories of others through touch, so that makes her very guarded and reluctant to form close relationships. gambit is intrigued by her, but she is wary of him. i see this being similar to you and your person’s interactions…there might be an initial hesitation on your end but there’s an undeniable chemistry between the two of you!

your person is similar to gambit who is a smooth-talking, charming, and rough around the edges type of character. he’s very drawn to rogue’s beauty and strength (and similar to you) her self-imposed isolation and emotional baggage makes her hesitant to open up to him. i’m definitely picking up on the slow-burn trope for y’all, pile 2. although you really want this connection you might feel held back by self-doubt and fear intimacy/vulnerability. you’ve gotta work through this slowly but surely, my loves. it’s not easy but it’s necessary because this person absolutely loves you, pile 2. they’d put everything on the line for you if they had to.

just like gambit, this person will always be deeply in love with you no matter how much you try to shut them out or act like your feelings aren’t as deep as they really are. i also just want to mention that your person has such a way with words like UGH the way they say things/articulate themselves is gonna have you going feral lol they’re so knowledgeable and persuasive. it doesn’t help that they’re fine as fuck too lol you’re gonna be mentally shadow-boxing your anxiety whenever you’re around them because they’re just soooo damn charming fr!

i’m also being drawn to one of the biggest themes of rogue and gambit’s relationship which is rogue not being able to physically touch him without absorbing his memories and abilities – which is something that frightens her, not only because it could harm him but also because it’s something that strips away everything from the person she’s touching. now y’alls situation is obviously not that dramatic, but i am picking up that some of you that picked this pile could be virgins or celibate. i feel like the wait will make you both become even closer.

OTHER CHANNELED MESSAGES —

you make wanna by usher, “i never thought this was possible”, bit of a wild card (no pun intended), fiery personality, leo/aquarius placements, you’re their best friend, love on the brain by rihanna.

— PILE 3.

channeled couple → wanda maximoff x vision.

you and your person are too stinkin’ cute, pile 3. lmaooo i know that sounds so corny and cheesy but your person puts you in this kind of mood. the sun is shining sooo bright as i’m writing this. it’s like you light up their life and vice versa. you remind them of a warm summer day at the beach where you’re free to just roam around, have ice cream and relax. you’re like a breath of fresh air for this person. your person can be extremely sappy (in the best way possible) like i see them randomly just grabbing you and spinning you around or twirling you lol they’re like…always in a good mood. they might like to sing or dance mhm i get the vibe that they have a CD collection like they really love music sooo much! they will love to cook for you as well awww they’re so considerate, pile 3. you guys are definitely giving that old school cutesy romantic 60s couple vibe for sure, i could cry!

i channeled wanda maximoff x vision for a reason i see. i feel like when you first meet your person you’re going to be going through alot in your own life and i’m not necessarily getting that it’s anything bad but it seems like you’re either working through something or towards something. this could be you confronting some childhood trauma and/or previous relationship baggage. it might also be that you're not quite where you imagined you'd be in life right now, or maybe you're feeling a bit unsure about your current path. whatever the reason, your person will likely sense that you're feeling a little lost, and they'll pick up on that shift in your energy. you might meet your person while you’re traveling or outside of wherever you live (i’m hearing out the country for some) and i see you two forming a very close friendship first. infrunami by steve lacy is coming to mind – girl, you're the one i want, you’re the one i need…i’m beggin' you, please. can you come back to me? 'cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me. hm for some of you this person could be a mutual or you somehow know them through your friends? if not, there just seems to be a sense of familiarity between the two of you.

i’m hearing “wow what a small world!” so tbh you could meet this person through one of your friends lol now i’m hearing best friend’s brother by victoria justice PLEASE that’s so random but on brand. also i’m picking up that your person could wear glasses? they are very inquisitive and can read you like a book, pile 3.

like vision, your person can pick up on your emotions, sensing when something is off even if you don’t express it. though vision is a synthezoid, his close connection to wanda and his time with the avengers allowed him to empathize deeply with human emotions. over time, his understanding of these feelings went beyond his programming, and his love for wanda amplified his ability to sense when she’s in distress. he offers comfort to her when she's struggling with her powers or grief. i feel like this relationship will be therapeutic for the both of you! you scratch their back, they’ll scratch yours.

you are similar to wanda in the sense that you can alter/create your reality – YOU have the power, but you have to believe it first. you doubt yourself a lot and create a lot of chaos within your mind because you can’t decide whether or not you should do something or if you’re even making the right decision. i think this has a lot to do with your childhood/upbringing, you stay in the shadows instead of being in the spotlight. that’s the problem, pile 3. i think you’re afraid of taking up space in fear of what others might say or think. there’s this sense of imposter syndrome. in order to bring this relationship into fruition you’ve gotta trust and believe in yourself, my loves. you’re an absolute badass – pop out and act like it! 10:10 on the clock. stop getting so caught up in the idea of what you think should be perfect. nothing and no one is perfect and ironically that’s the beauty of life lol shit ain’t always sweet and that’s okay. the world keeps spinning. it might not seem like it now but you will be more than okay, trust me! your person can’t wait to be in your orbit eeek i’m giddy at the thought of you two connecting. you don’t even realize it but your spirit guides are working overtime to make this connection happen hehe it starts with you though, babe. buckle up cause your person is ready. are you down to ride?

OTHER CHANNELED MESSAGES —

michael, breakfast at tiffany’s, NYC, month of may, one of the girls by the weeknd ft. lily rose depp & jennie, looks like MBJ, leo, 7H, 6H/virgo venus.

[mrs-stans]

Sebastian Stan Is “Still Shaking” After Getting Two Golden Globe Nominations

On the heels of recognition for both The Apprentice and A Different Man, Stan speaks to Vanity Fair about his “surreal” journey to awards recognition, as well as being nominated in the same year as Pamela Anderson.

BY SAVANNAH WALSH

It’s not every day that an actor earns a Golden Globe nomination, much less two in the same morning. But Sebastian Stan joined the likes of Selena Gomez and Kate Winslet on Monday by getting dual Globe nominations. “It’s certainly surreal,” he tells Vanity Fair, “still sort of shaking from it.”

Stan secured recognition for both his dramatic turn as Donald Trump in The Apprentice and his more comedic performance as a tormented aspiring actor named Edward in A Different Man. It is the first time that a male performer has pulled off double nominations in the lead acting categories since Ryan Gosling managed to do it back in 2012. “Listen, one of my favorite actors of all time,” Stan says. “I’d be very glad to be in that little stat with him.”

In the early hours of nomination morning, Stan was getting some shuteye—or, at least attempting to. “I actually woke up in the middle of the night at 4:00, and was like, Oh, okay, there’s an hour and a half. I fell asleep again, and then I got a call from my publicist,” he tells VF. Since then, “I’ve been sending a lot of pictures to my mom.”

Some excitement is to be expected, especially when considering what it took to get both of Stan’s nominated films to the screen. “I never would’ve dreamt that I was going to be going to the Globes with both of these films, I never would’ve dreamt that both of the films would’ve come out in the same year,” he says.

Aaron Schimberg’s A Different Man sat in limbo for two years before debuting on the festival circuit this year. At the Sundance Film Festival, it was acquired by A24 for a fall release. The film then screened in Berlin, where Stan won the Silver Bear for best lead performance. Meanwhile, The Apprentice, directed by Ali Abbasi and written by Vanity Fair special contributor Gabriel Sherman, premiered at May’s Cannes Film Festival to positive reviews. But the film faced a treacherous road to distribution in the days before the 2024 presidential election.

“To even be in one room with both films is not something that’s ever crossed my mind,” Stan says. “So, I’ll be digesting that probably throughout the holiday season.” The recognition for each movie feels extra gratifying because “they both felt really challenging in terms of what the roles we’re requiring,” he says, “obviously one being one of the most famous people in the world, with a lot of people having very strong feelings about [him], and many, many impressions having been done. How do you go in there and find something new, or try to offer a different perspective?”

As it turns out, bringing a young Donald Trump to life during the dawn of his fortuitous relationship with Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong, now Globe-nominated for best supporting actor in a feature film) was only half the fight. Stan recently opened up about the struggle to promote The Apprentice in the wake of Trump’s re-election, including having to pass on Variety’s Actors on Actors because other participants were reluctant to talk about the president-elect.

“The movie has had a really uphill battle since Cannes,” says Stan, who also recently nabbed an Independent Spirit Award nomination for the movie. “It’s been hard for people to have permission to express how they feel about the movie, and today feels very gratifying in terms of having the Golden Globes recognize the film, and the work. It feels like hopefully going forward people can feel okay talking about it, and see it.”

Stan earned his first Globes nomination for playing Tommy Lee in 2022’s similarly controversial based-on-a-true-story project, Pam & Tommy. How does he feel to be nominated in the same year as the real-life Pamela Anderson, who became a first-time nominee for The Last Showgirl? “I’m so happy for her, and [it’s] so well deserved. It’s a beautiful film and a beautiful performance,” says Stan. “From our end, this was always part of the goal and the intention [of the series]—to somehow shine a light where it hasn’t been shined before, and hopefully contribute in a way [to her success]. So yeah, I’m ecstatic for her.”

Stan is also rooting for many of his other fellow nominees. “My two favorite films of the year are Sing Sing and A Real Pain,” says the actor, who then praises one of his competitors in the musical/comedy lead actor race. “Jesse Eisenberg, I want to say congratulations to him because he’s somebody I worked with years ago, in 2006 [via Fred Durst’s feature directorial debut, The Education of Charlie Banks], and the man’s a genius. I love that movie so much.”

He also spotlights The Substance, a film that, along with a release date, also shares themes with A Different Man—more specifically, issues of transformation and fixation on physical appearance. “There were a lot of articles that kind of put us together, in terms of the themes of the movies,” says Stan. “But they’re unique in the sense that they are original. Sing Sing, A Real Pain, I should say Anora while I’m at it—to be able to have films that are standing on their own without any IP, or anything about them that we know but their true original film storytelling, is amazing.”

The Globes are seen as something of a precursor on the way to potential Oscar gold—but Stan isn’t getting ahead of himself. “The fact that we’re here today in itself is such a massive step, but it is very much a one day at a time experience,” says the 42-year-old. “As an actor in this community, besides the work that you do on the day, when you go home at night and feel like you’ve left it all on the field, there’s nothing more gratifying than the actual recognition of your peers. I’ve been doing this for 20-some odd years, and I’m pretty grateful. So, knock on wood, and whatever happens next happens—but we’ve already won in a major way.”

[amethystarachnid]

Can you write for me Amnesia trope from Marvel Bingo with Tony/Fem reader? Tony is a little injured after a mission and he loses his memory, when reader is going to see him (wife or girlfriend) he won't recognize her but he'll immediately fall for her all over again 🥺 she thinks it's absolutely cute that he didn't recognize her but soon he'll recover his memory and blush so hard when reader shows him his videos of him all smitten by her hahahaha ❤️ and Tony saying he'll alwyas fall for her 🥺 (some spicy kisse maybe?)

ALWAYS

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: Because of an injury Tony temporarily loses his memories of you, his wife, and you're determined to make him gain them back. Do you really need to do so when he has already fallen back in love with you?

ᯓ★ TW(s): memory loss and clingy Tony

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The beeping. It’s the first thing you notice when you step into the hospital room—the insistent, steady beep of the heart monitor that Tony’s hooked up to. It’s steady, strong, and for that, you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The smell of antiseptic stings your nose, reminding you that, despite Tony's resilience, he's as vulnerable as any of them in situations like these.

The mission had gone wrong in ways you didn’t see coming. Stark Industries had developed tech that a rival group decided they wanted to “borrow”—forcefully. What was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a messy firefight. But, like always, Tony had pushed you to evacuate, promising he’d be right behind you. Instead, an explosion threw him from his suit, leaving him vulnerable to the final assault. He had barely gotten out before going down hard.

Now, you’re here, nerves raw and trembling as you hover by the doorway, watching him.

Tony is sitting up, but he seems…distant. Disoriented, maybe. His eyes are half-lidded, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s trying to make sense of something in the middle distance. It’s unnerving because you’re used to a Tony whose attention burns, even when he’s exhausted, half-buried in his lab, or just waking up. He sees everything.

But not this time. And for some reason, he doesn’t see you.

“Mrs. Stark?”

You turn as the doctor enters, offering you a sympathetic look. It’s a look that’s meant to ease you into news you know you don’t want to hear.

“Is he…awake?”

The doctor nods, gesturing you toward the chair by Tony’s bed. “He’s stable. His vitals are strong. The issue, Mrs. Stark, is that there appears to be some level of memory loss.”

The words clang in your ears, foreign and cold, completely out of place in the world you’ve built with Tony. “What do you mean by ‘memory loss’?”

She sighs, glancing at Tony before she speaks. “Memory loss is complicated. From what I’ve gathered, Mr. Stark has retained his long-term memories and most of his professional knowledge. But, due to the trauma and subsequent disorientation, there’s a block on more recent events…particularly in his personal life.”

Your stomach drops, and you take a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He doesn’t remember me, does he?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says softly. “In many cases, memories return with time and familiar cues. Given Mr. Stark’s particular cognitive resilience, I have high hopes for recovery. But until then, he may…struggle with recognition and personal connections.”

You nod slowly, trying to take it all in. In all the battles, the missions, the threats, this is somehow scarier. Because it’s not just his body that’s wounded; it’s your life together that’s fractured.

When the doctor leaves, you take a step forward, but your feet feel leaden, hesitant. And for once, you don’t know what to say. This isn’t just Tony after a rough mission. This is your husband, and he doesn’t know you.

Finally, you muster the courage and approach the bed, offering him a soft, tentative smile. “Hey there, stranger.”

He looks up, his gaze sharp but confused, and something in his eyes flickers with a shade of recognition—a spark that leaves you hoping. But then he blinks, and it’s gone.

“Do I, uh, know you?” His tone is polite, curious, but there’s a guardedness to it, as if he’s unsure if he’s supposed to recognize you. You don’t miss the way his eyes dart over you, taking you in, and a pang of sadness tugs at your heart as you realize he’s assessing you the way he might a stranger.

You laugh softly, forcing down the lump in your throat. “You could say that. I’m…” You hesitate, wondering if it’s too much to say it outright, but the words slip out before you can stop them. “I’m your wife.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he stares at you, stunned. “My wife?”

“Yes.” You smile, more gently this time, as though that will ease him into the idea. “For almost three years now.”

Tony blinks, and you can see his mind racing, struggling to process this unexpected piece of information. He gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I…you’re telling me I’m married to you?”

His shock is genuine, and for a moment, a bubble of laughter escapes you. It’s that classic Tony Stark reaction—equal parts disbelief and awe, as if he can’t quite believe his good luck.

“Yes,” you say again, and this time, there’s a hint of amusement in your voice. “You managed to convince me somehow.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin that’s both endearing and achingly familiar. “Wow. I must be one hell of a salesman.”

“Oh, you are.” The laughter fades from your voice as you take a step closer, unable to resist the need to be nearer to him, even if he doesn’t remember you right now. “You’re the best.”

For a moment, he studies you, his gaze flickering with something like curiosity, maybe even admiration. It’s a glimmer of the old Tony, the man who made you feel like the only person in the room, no matter the crowd or chaos. But here, with him looking at you as a stranger might, there’s something raw and beautiful about it, too. He’s falling in love with you all over again, right in front of your eyes.

“Well, I guess I should feel lucky,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “If you’re half as amazing as you look, then…yeah. Lucky guy.”

The words make your heart flutter, and despite everything, you feel a warmth spread through you, easing the tightness in your chest. He’s still Tony, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Want to know a little about us?” you ask, hoping that maybe, somehow, it will trigger something—some hidden memory or spark of recognition.

He nods, settling back against the pillow. “Please. Enlighten me. I’m curious how a guy like me managed to marry someone like you.”

“Well,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you pull up a chair beside him. “For starters, we didn’t exactly get along at first.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“You…may have.” You grin, remembering the banter, the stubborn disagreements, the sparks that seemed to ignite every time you were in a room together. “You were cocky, stubborn, a little arrogant.”

He chuckles. “That sounds about right.”

“But somehow,” you continue, your voice softening, “you managed to break down all my walls. You made me feel like I was the only person who mattered, even if you acted like you were just being yourself.”

His gaze lingers on you, and there’s a warmth there, something cautious but undeniably present. “I’m sorry I don’t remember that.”

“Don’t be.” You place a gentle hand over his, feeling the faint warmth of his skin against yours. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve done a thousand times before, but this time, it feels different—new, almost shy. “You’ll remember. And until you do, we’ll make new memories. Starting right now.”

He looks down at your hand on his, and you can see the faintest flush of color in his cheeks. For a man who’s usually so sure of himself, so confident in every move he makes, it’s endearing to see him look almost…nervous.

“So, tell me more about this…our life,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s trying to hold onto the pieces he has left.

“Well,” you say, smiling as you think of the little things that make up your life together. “We spend a lot of time in the lab together, actually. Even if you’re always tinkering, working on some new project, you always have time for me.”

“Do I? Sounds like a good husband.” There’s a touch of pride in his voice, and it makes your heart ache a little—because he doesn’t even know the half of it yet.

“A very good husband,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with all the love you feel for him. “The best.”

And there it is—that flicker in his eyes, like he’s starting to see it, to feel it. It’s as if, for just a moment, he knows you, feels that connection.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “For being here. For…all of this.”

You squeeze his hand gently, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. “You’re my husband, Tony. I’d do anything for you.”

And as you sit there, hands entwined, you realize that even if he has to fall in love with you all over again, you’ll be right here, waiting.

The drive back from the hospital is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Tony stares out the window, taking in the blur of city lights as you weave through the streets toward your shared home. Occasionally, you catch him glancing at you, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief, as if he’s still wrapping his head around the idea that you’re his wife, that he’s returning to a life he doesn’t remember but that he somehow…wants.

When you finally pull into the long driveway leading up to your home, his eyebrows shoot up. Stark Tower looms ahead, its sleek, modern design stark against the night sky. The iconic "STARK" sign gleams with familiar grandeur. He lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes, too—something like pride.

“So, this is…our place?” he asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Well, your place, technically. But I’ve definitely made it my own.”

Tony chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you’re reminded of all the times he’s teased you about “taking over” his tower with touches of your personality: the cozy reading nook in his office, the garden on the roof you insisted on installing, even the art pieces scattered throughout the building. And despite his teasing, he’d always seemed proud of how much of yourself you’d poured into his space.

“Well,” he says, stepping out of the car, “if you’re half as great at interior design as you are at, uh, marrying billionaires, I think I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“Oh, just you wait,” you say with a playful smirk as you lead him inside.

The entryway is a testament to the sleek, modern style Tony’s known for—polished floors, clean lines, an air of sophistication mixed with warmth. But there are little touches here and there that mark it as your home too: framed photos from the missions you’ve tackled together, a throw blanket draped over the couch, even a small shelf of books beside the entrance to the main living area.

Tony follows you, his gaze flitting over each detail with that trademark Stark intensity, taking it all in as if he’s studying a new project. When his eyes land on a photo of the two of you at a beach, he pauses. You remember that day so vividly: you were laughing, caught in a candid moment as he held you close, your hair whipped by the wind.

“Is that…us?” he asks, a softness in his voice that tugs at your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, stepping closer to him. “A couple of years ago. We were on a vacation you forced me to take.”

“I forced you?” he repeats, quirking an eyebrow. “Was I…was I that difficult?”

“Only a little,” you tease, nudging him gently. “You hated the idea of not working for a few days. But we made the best of it.”

His lips curve into a small smile as he stares at the photo a moment longer before turning his gaze back to you. “I look…happy. Really happy.”

“You were,” you say softly. “We both were.”

He swallows, his gaze lingering on you, and for a moment, you can almost feel the weight of all the memories he’s lost. But there’s a warmth in his eyes, a flicker of something that feels like a connection—even if it’s new to him.

You clear your throat and gesture toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

You lead him down the hall, pointing out the various rooms, each one filled with a mix of his tech and your touches: the library with shelves overflowing with both your favorite books, the small lounge you use for watching movies together, and finally, your bedroom.

When you open the door, he stands in the doorway, taking it in. The room is a blend of Tony’s sophisticated taste and your own comfortable style, the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the neatly made bed, the nightstand stacked with a few of Tony’s reading materials, and the little tray of lotions and skincare items you keep on your side.

“This…feels nice,” he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over the room. He takes a step inside, running a hand over the bedspread, almost as if testing its texture. “I don’t know why, but I feel…calm here.”

You smile, moving to stand beside him. “It’s our space. Your favorite spot after a long day, whether you’d admit it or not. You always said it’s the one place that lets you truly relax.”

He chuckles, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah, well, if you say so. I…believe you.”

For a moment, there’s silence, and you can feel the weight of the day settling over both of you. He’s exhausted, and so are you.

“Do you…want to rest?” you ask, realizing he might be overwhelmed with all of this new information.

“Actually, I think I’d like to keep looking around,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I just…don’t want to miss anything. It feels like I’ve lost a huge chunk of my life, and I want to piece it together, however I can.”

You nod, understanding. You feel a pang of sadness but try to hide it. “Well, I’ll be here. We can take it slow. One room at a time.”

Together, you move back down the hallway, stopping in the kitchen next. Tony’s gaze catches on the coffee maker, and he raises his eyebrows with a look of genuine excitement. “Please tell me I still drink coffee.”

You laugh, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Oh, you drink enough coffee to fuel a small army. In fact…” You open a cabinet, revealing an impressive array of coffee beans, grounds, and Tony’s prized espresso machine. “You’re particular about it. You like to experiment.”

He nods, visibly impressed. “I see I have good taste. I’d like to think I’m a genius when it comes to coffee.”

“Among other things,” you reply, grinning as you start to brew a fresh pot, the familiar hum of the machine filling the room.

As the coffee brews, Tony leans against the counter, watching you with that spark of interest you remember so well. But now, it feels new, raw, as if he’s falling for you all over again and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“So,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes, “you said we didn’t get along at first. How did I change your mind?”

You chuckle, handing him a mug and savoring the warmth as you lean back against the counter beside him. “It wasn’t any one thing. You…surprised me. I kept expecting you to be this arrogant genius with no time for anyone, but then you started showing up at my door with random inventions, making coffee runs at three a.m. with me, and bringing me little gifts from your travels.” You smile, remembering each moment as if it’s engraved in your memory. “You just…wore me down, I guess.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over your words, and you see the warmth in his expression, a flicker of understanding, even if it’s only a shadow of his former self.

“Well, then,” he says, his tone soft, “I’m glad I wore you down.”

His words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, the kitchen feels smaller, more intimate, filled with a sense of closeness that’s been there since the moment you met but now feels refreshingly new.

Tony shifts his weight, looking suddenly unsure. “So…do I get to sleep in our bed tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling a little as you nod. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you walk back to the bedroom together, side by side, you feel a quiet sense of peace settle over you. Tony might not remember you—at least not yet—but he’s here, and he’s yours, and somehow, you’ll find a way to rebuild together.

You slip into bed, settling under the covers, and Tony follows suit, lying beside you with a soft sigh. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches over, his hand brushing against yours beneath the covers. You entwine your fingers with his, and even though he doesn’t remember the countless nights you’ve fallen asleep like this, it feels natural.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Tony,” you murmur back, your heart swelling with hope.

As the city lights outside cast a gentle glow across the room, you lie there, hand in hand, feeling the warmth of him beside you. And for the first time since the accident, you feel a flicker of reassurance.

The days start to blur together in a rhythm that feels both familiar and new. Tony’s memory isn’t coming back all at once, but he’s recovering it in little flashes, bits and pieces of who he used to be, of who you are to each other. And even though some of these memories are fleeting, almost insignificant, they build something solid between you—something that’s real and growing stronger with every passing moment.

It begins with breakfast one morning.

You’re standing at the stove, cooking eggs and listening to Tony talk about his latest gadget idea. He’s been getting back into work, tinkering here and there in the lab, and he always comes out in the morning with some grand plan or concept. It’s one of the things you’ve missed most—his enthusiasm, his endless curiosity, the way he lights up when he talks about creating something new. You smile, flipping the eggs onto plates and setting them on the counter.

“You know, I don’t think I ever realized how much you put up with me,” he says, leaning against the counter with that lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “All my late nights, random ideas, and, uh, probably a few accidental explosions.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you hand him his plate. “Oh, trust me, I’ve put up with plenty. But you make it worth it.”

He takes a bite, nodding as though savoring the taste. “You know…this feels familiar,” he says after a moment, frowning slightly. “Mornings like this. I used to sit here and watch you cook, didn’t I?”

“Every morning you didn’t have your face buried in a new project,” you reply softly, watching him carefully.

He pauses, that spark of recognition in his eyes growing, as if he’s trying to hold onto the memory, to make it solid. And then he’s looking at you, really looking at you, with a tenderness that feels almost shy. It’s a vulnerability you rarely see from Tony, and it makes your heart ache in the best way.

“I think I remember something else,” he murmurs, stepping around the counter to stand in front of you. “I remember sitting here and…thinking about how lucky I was.”

Your breath catches as he reaches out, his fingers grazing your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw. His touch is tentative, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Tony…” you whisper, feeling your pulse quicken.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss that’s both familiar and electrifying, like he’s rediscovering you for the first time. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his mouth moves against yours, slow and intense, like he’s savoring every second. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker, filled with something that looks like a mix of wonder and awe.

“I don’t remember everything,” he says softly, his voice rough, “but I don’t think I need to. This feels right.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “It is right,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him again.

The memory flashes continue over the next few days, each one bringing him closer to the person he used to be. They’re small, fleeting things—a song that triggers a faint memory of a dance in the living room, the scent of his cologne reminding him of the night you first told him you loved him. Each one brings with it a sense of déjà vu, a feeling that tugs at his heart and pulls him closer to you.

One evening, you’re both sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you watch a movie together. It’s an old favorite, something you’ve watched countless times, and Tony seems to relax into the familiarity of it. His hand absentmindedly traces patterns on your thigh, and you can feel his warmth, his closeness, and it makes you feel grounded, steady.

Suddenly, he chuckles, looking down at your legs. “I remember this. You used to do this all the time. You’d kick off your shoes and practically sprawl across the couch.”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “And you used to pretend to be annoyed, even though you secretly loved it.”

He raises an eyebrow, that playful smirk you know so well tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’m sure I did.”

You shift, leaning closer to him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, his eyes filled with both affection and curiosity, that makes you feel bold, like you’re rediscovering each other in a way that’s fresh and exhilarating.

“Can I tell you something?” you murmur, your voice soft.

“Anything,” he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“When we first met, I thought you were this…impossible genius with no time for anyone,” you confess, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “But then you’d look at me like this, with this softness, like I was the only person in the world.”

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe you are.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, capturing you in a kiss that’s anything but shy. It’s slow and deep, his hands sliding up your back as he pulls you into him, your bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly. His kisses are gentle yet intense, each one leaving you breathless, as if he’s trying to make up for all the lost time, all the memories he doesn’t yet have but that you both feel so deeply.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavily, hearts racing. He smiles, that teasing glint in his eyes as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why do I feel like I’ve kissed you a million times?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “Like I can’t get enough?”

“Maybe because you have,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “And I’ll never get enough of you, either.”

He chuckles, a sound that’s warm and filled with affection as he kisses you again, softer this time, more lingering, like he’s savoring every second. His lips move slowly over yours, his hands gentle as they cradle your face, as if he’s memorizing the feel of you, the way you fit together.

Over the next few days, the memories come more frequently, little fragments of your life that make him pause, that bring a flicker of recognition to his eyes. Sometimes it’s just a look he gives you, a soft smile that feels so familiar it makes your heart ache. Other times, it’s a touch—a hand on your back, a gentle brush of his fingers against yours—that reminds you of all the little ways he’s shown his love over the years.

And every time he remembers something, he falls in love with you a little more.

One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you reach over to turn off the light, but Tony stops you, his hand catching yours. He turns to you, his gaze soft but intense, filled with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

“I might not remember everything yet,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing your cheek, “but I know that I love you. I don’t need memories to know that.”

You feel a lump in your throat, a warmth spreading through you that’s both comforting and thrilling. “I love you, too, Tony,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his hand. “No matter what. I always have, and I always will.”

His smile is tender, filled with a gratitude that makes you realize just how lucky you both are, how strong this connection is between you. He leans in, kissing you with a softness that melts away all the uncertainty, all the fear that’s lingered since the accident.

And as you lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this isn’t just a return to the life you had before. It’s something new, something deeper and more meaningful, a love that’s growing stronger every day. It’s a love that doesn’t need memories to survive because it’s written into every touch, every glance, every kiss you share.

The morning Tony’s memories come flooding back, it feels both surreal and inevitable. He wakes up beside you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling for a long moment before he turns to look at you, his expression a mixture of wonder, relief, and something deeper—something vulnerable. When he speaks, his voice is low, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell.

“I remember everything,” he murmurs, his hand finding yours beneath the covers. His thumb traces gentle patterns on your knuckles, as though he’s grounding himself in the reality of the present. “Every detail, every moment. I remember…you.”

You blink away the tears that threaten to spill over, smiling as you reach up to cup his face. “You’re really back,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I missed you.”

He gives a soft laugh, his hand covering yours as he presses his forehead to yours. “You never really lost me, you know? And I… I missed you, too. Even when I didn’t remember all of it, I knew. I knew you were everything to me. I'd always fall for you.”

You fall into his arms, both of you holding each other tightly, like you’re afraid to let go. And in that embrace, you feel the weight of all those lost days lift, leaving only a warmth that radiates between you. He’s here, fully, and the two of you are whole again.

Later, you’re curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you cuddle into his side. You’ve both been talking, recounting memories, laughing at the more amusing fragments that came back to him in flashes. And then, an idea strikes you.

“Tony,” you say, glancing up at him with a mischievous grin, “there’s something you need to see.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, really? And what might that be?”

You grab your phone from the coffee table, pulling up a series of videos you took during his days without memories. Each one holds moments that, at the time, you’d been scared would be all you had left—little fragments of his affection, of the new ways he showed his love for you while he was rediscovering himself.

“Brace yourself,” you say, hitting play on the first video.

In it, Tony is sitting across from you at the kitchen table, his eyes sleepy and his hair a mess. He’s holding a mug of coffee, and he looks up at you with the softest, most adoring expression, blinking slowly like he can barely believe you’re real. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his voice a murmur, his gaze fixed on you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world. “How did I get so lucky?”

The Tony beside you lets out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that…well, cuddly before.”

“Oh, that’s just the beginning,” you say, grinning as you play the next video.

This one shows him lying on the couch, his head in your lap as you’re reading a book. He’s practically burrowed into you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried against your stomach. Every now and then, he looks up at you with these wide, affectionate eyes, and even without memories, he’s the picture of absolute adoration.

“Is that…me?” Tony asks, a touch of disbelief in his voice as he watches himself look up at you like that. “I’m like a…like a giant puppy.”

“Oh, you were,” you laugh, rubbing his arm affectionately. “I have so many videos like this. You’d barely let me out of your sight. I think losing your memories made you even clingier.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he pulls you closer. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at you. Not remembering you was bad enough—I guess I was just making sure I didn’t forget you again.”

The next video is of him in bed, lying half-asleep with his arm stretched out, reaching for you. His voice, groggy and low, calls your name softly, and you hear yourself laugh from behind the camera as you step into view. When you do, he pulls you into the bed, wrapping his arms around you like he never wants to let go. He sighs in contentment, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring something unintelligible, and even watching it now, you feel that familiar warmth spread through your chest.

Tony, watching beside you, is silent for a long moment, his gaze softened as he watches himself cling to you like that. When the video ends, he turns to you, a tenderness in his expression that takes your breath away.

“I can’t believe I didn’t remember you,” he whispers, his fingers brushing your cheek. “But even when I couldn’t…I needed you.”

You place a hand over his, smiling softly. “I think a part of you did remember, in a way. You were still you—maybe a little cuddlier than usual,” you tease, “but you were still you.”

His lips curve into a playful grin. “So, I was clingy, huh? Was I any good at it?”

“Oh, you were very good at it,” you say, laughter bubbling up. “I mean, I kind of got used to waking up with you practically draped over me. I’m almost going to miss it.”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Well, if you liked clingy Tony, I think I can accommodate,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he tightens his hold on you.

You giggle, curling your arms around his neck as he presses a series of soft, lingering kisses along your jaw. “Mmm, maybe I did like clingy Tony,” you whisper, your fingers threading through his hair.

He chuckles, his lips trailing down to your neck, his hands running up and down your sides as he nuzzles into you, his warmth enveloping you. “Well then, Mrs. Stark, it looks like you’re in luck.”

His mouth finds yours, and he kisses you deeply, his hands gentle but insistent as he pulls you closer. The kiss is soft and tender, but there’s an intensity to it, a passion that feels even stronger now that he has all his memories back. It’s like he’s making up for lost time, savoring every second, every touch, every shared breath.

When he pulls back, he leans his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t think I could ever let you go again,” he says, his hands sliding to your waist as he holds you close. “Every second without you felt…wrong, somehow. Now that I know everything, it’s like my whole world is back.”

You smile, brushing your fingers along his jaw as you gaze into his eyes. “Then don’t let go,” you whisper, your heart racing as he closes the small distance between you again, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s both familiar and exhilarating.

soft Tony is just a baby <3 if you liked the story leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!

[batboyblog]

In the almost month since the election I’ve gone through so many emotions. I’ve felt hopelessly crushed, furious, overwhelmed, and just plain exhausted. I hate that this has happened, and that the orange shitstain is gonna put the most awful people in power. I’m not gonna lay down and die, but I’m just so tired of this. That man has slowly drained the hope out of this nation for the last ten years and I’m sick of it. I know this didn’t start with him, but he certainly emboldened blatant authoritarianism. I know every generation feels at some point the world is ending, but at this point it feels so difficult to try to have hope for the future. I believe we as a country can be better than this, but I’m not sure at the moment how we can get there.

I know the feeling, the tired part any ways.

in 2016 I was in the Hillary campaign and like we talked about HOW! bad Donald Trump could be, Hillary had a tweet "we can't trust a man who can be baited with a tweet with the nuclear codes" and for us inside the campaign we took all that very seriously for us it was not talk we meant it, we believed he was really dangerous, deeply corrupt possibly criminal already, and totally unqualified and unfit. And we said so, and no one took us seriously, I always remember a nice middle aged couple stopped at our office to get some signs they weren't from the state and were just passing through. But Democrats, supporters and I was trying to push them to maybe volunteer (as was my job) and I talked about how a Republican President (Ie Trump) could appoint up to 4 Supreme Court justices and they would surely do away with Roe V Wade. And They literally rolled their eyes at me and said "I know thats a good line but do you really believe that'd happen? they'd do away with Roe?" yes, yes we did.

So any ways I believed Trump 1.0 would be every bit as bad as it turned out to be, it was even on January 6th a little worse. So I went through the emotional roller coaster in 2016

2024 has been just sad, and tired.

But I do feel something growing in the guts of my soul, rage, pure burning rage. Someone once said that the thing that fuels every good activist is rage at the world for being imperfect. I don't know if thats right or true.

But it's whats getting me up in the morning, we offered hope, and kindness and a better world and they threw it back, well fuck 'em. This is my patch of dirt on god's good earth goddamn it and they can't fucking have it without a fight, I'm a miserable cockroach motherfucker, I will out fight them, out last them, and win and stand on the ashes of their fucking fascist dreams.

more to the point, I did feel like giving up, and saying "well they picked this, eyes wide open, now we all suffer, w/e" but I don't get to give up, Bill Clinton said "there are no permeant victories or defeats in politics" and he's right, this is the call and the cause, to struggle unendingly for the better world and if you're very lucky you live to see it turn a little and a new battle for the better of man kind than the one you spent your life on be engaged. For me personally, my nephew is trans, he's 17 looking at colleges, picking states that are safe for him. I don't have the power to protect him, I did EVERYthing in my power to stop this, because of him, and for him, I'll be out there again and again and again. I wish deals with the devil were real because I'd just go to hell so he could be safe and happy, but sadly only hard work and uncertain outcomes are real.

I have no easy answers, no clean hope of a better world or a better America about to be born from the bitter ashes of this election. Harvey Milk said "I know you cannot live on Hope alone, but without it life is not worth living" And the last 10 years, the forces of darkness have across all of society, wearing many different faces tried to take hope out of our souls, and its brought us here. My favorite speech is by Ann Richards and I quote the end a lot, but here I'll quote something she said way way back in 1988

This Republican Administration treats us as if we were pieces of a puzzle that can’t fit together. They've tried to put us into compartments and separate us from each other. Their political theory is “divide and conquer.” They’ve suggested time and time again that what is of interest to one group of Americans is not of interest to any one else. We’ve been isolated. We’ve been lumped into that sad phraseology called “special interests.” ------ No wonder we feel isolated and confused. We want answers and their answer is that "something is wrong with you."  Well nothing's wrong with you. Nothing’s wrong with you that you can’t fix in November! We've been told -- We've been told that the interests of the South and the Southwest are not the same interests as the North and the Northeast. They pit one group against the other. They've divided this country and in our isolation we think government isn’t gonna help us, and we're alone in our feelings. We feel forgotten. Well, the fact is that we are not an isolated piece of their puzzle. We are one nation. We are the United States of America.

in the 2020s we're doing it to ourselves but its helping the cynical just as much. Each of us trapped on our phones in our own personal self made hell, well not self made, there are algorithms feeling you stories designed to make you feel like shit, because when you feel like shit you stay on-line, and keep doom scrolling. We're divided and our culture, the way we speak to each other it only makes us more divided, we're rubbery and inauthentic.

So I guess, you want hope, get out there and find something you believe in and fight for it, there's a local candidate near you I'm sure you can believe in, a ballot measure, a local group, something, and break the isolation we have to talk again because if we don't, well its already eaten us alive and we're trying to get out of the whale.

[nolita-fairytale]

something will happen | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: you and luca embark on another a big new adventure together: one of second dreams and second chances. the long-awaited sequel to 'burn your life down.' titled inspired by something will happen - berlioz.

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: it's really happening! i can't promise i'll be updating frequently, but season 3 got me inspired and i've really missed this world. this feels more like an intro than a chapter but here we are anyway. all italicized scenes are a part of the same conversation. i just wanted to play with something new so i hope it makes sense. lmk if you'd like to be tagged.

masterlist | chapter two

Late Spring

“Well? What do you think?” Luca asks you, the anticipation in the silence between the two of you palpable. 

“I don’t know!” you practically exclaim, all giddy at the mere idea of it. You chew on your lower lip as you wait for him to say something next. 

“I’m just saying. It’s not a half-bad idea and ehm… well, I’ve been thinking about it. A lot, actually,” he reasons with a shrug. He sends a loving glance your way because you look so damn cute wrapped in your twin-sized duvet that makes up one half of the bed you share. 

“For how long?” you ask, cautiously. 

“Dunno,” Luca shrugs. “Ever since Marcus mentioned it, I suppose.” 

He’s almost too casual about this—as if he hasn’t been stuck on the idea for the last month or so since his friend had returned to the States.

This is most certainly not a lazy Saturday morning with breakfast in bed kind of conversation. 

This is a paperwork and really nice pens kind of conversation

A big step.

Huge, even. 

You’ve already agreed to live with the man. 

And now this?

“Luca…” you struggle to get out on an exhale. “I just. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just-.” You pause, collecting your thoughts as you shake off all your nerves before choosing to pivot.

“What if we just-.” you begin again, taking a breath as you brace yourself to jump over this specific cliff. “Total fantasy. No limitations, no logistics, then sure. Okay. We could talk about it.” 

“Alright,” Luca accepts with a nod, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes like he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. He sits up straight, pushing himself off of where he leans against the headboard, shifting so that he’s closer to you. The smile that spreads across his lips begins to grow as repeats your words back to you. “Then, my love, total fantasy. No limitations. No logistics. What’s the dream?” 

—---------------------------------------

Summer

The dream was only supposed to be this—one where you’d begin living with your very sexy and very sweet pastry chef of a boyfriend—and yet, months later, as you move your things into Luca’s Vesterbro flat, your thoughts are consumed by ‘what ifs.’ 

What if you did it? 

What if you opened the restaurant of your shared dreams? 

What if your dreams came true with the love of your life by your side? 

Opening Kokuore had been different. It was your first step towards your next chapter, one where you had moved to Copenhagen in search of a new beginning. But this would be… a proclamation: that you were here to stay, that you and Luca could be something permanent, that you could be more than just romantic partners. 

Proof of a life well-lived and a life well-loved. 

Kokuore had been your dream, your first, your baby. Sure, there’d been talk of expansion—maybe a bigger space, or something along the lines of that—but you hadn’t thought too deeply about a second. 

You hadn’t thought about what would come next. 

And then he did. 

Luca. 

“Need any help, love?” Luca offers, watching you scoop two stacked boxes up into your arms, ready to be hauled into the bedroom. 

“Nope!” you heave with a sigh. “Not with these. But if you could grab the other three I’ll meet you in the closet, babe.”

He smirks, calling after you with a: 

“And what do you suppose we should do there?” 

You chuckle in response, your voice sounding further away as you shout back, “Let’s just unpack a few of my clothes, love, before we start taking them off.” 

—---------------------------------------

“Then, my love, total fantasy. No limitations. No logistics. What’s the dream?” 

You sigh, like you too haven’t been thinking about it since Marcus brought it up in the first place. 

“Okay, I’m not ready yet,” you preface, cautiously. “But. If we were, hypothetically speaking, talking about opening a restaurant together… I kinda love the idea of a brunch spot.” “Like Marcus said.” “Exactly.” 

“Slash bakery.” “Right.” 

“Hypothetically speaking.” “Of course.” 

For a moment, your mind gets away from you, running wild with the fantasy that’s beginning to unfold before your eyes.

“I think I really like the idea of it being a bakery during the weekdays when we’re open,” you admit, an excitement beginning to bubble underneath the surface of all your reasons why you shouldn’t. “Maybe we do Wednesday, Thursday all grab-and-go sort of breakfast stuff in addition to the bakery.”

“Kind of like a NY-style bodega,” Luca adds, building on your idea. “You know. With a little extra finesse.”

“Yes! Then… Friday, maybe, we pivot to full breakfast/brunch till the end of Saturday,” you reply, building off what Luca’s just said. 

“Think Wednesday – Saturday service would work?” he asks curiously, knowing that most places are closed on Sundays in Copenhagen.

“We could try it out. Extend our hours to Sunday down the line IF it feels right,” you reason with enough ease to worry you a little. You begin to back pedal, your mind flooded with doubt. “But-, I don’t know, honey. Don’t you think Copenhagen has enough bakeries?” 

“Not ours! Copenhagen doesn’t have ours yet,” Luca protests, as soon he begins to recognize what’s going on in your head. His excitement and passion alone might convince you to do this as he sits up on his knees, his body language expressing just how fully IN he is on this idea. 

His face changes—he’s only just a little more serious this time—his tone light and voice gentle as he warns you with a: 

“And I’m not letting you talk to yourself out of this.” He crosses his arms over his chest almost as if it’s a challenge. “So tell me more about this bakery-slash-brunch spot you’ve got in mind.” 

“Luca Davies! I don’t know where you get off thinking you can sweet talk me into this,” you scold him teasingly. 

He’s even faster to reply. 

“Oh I think I can.”

And this time, you know it’s a challenge. 

“Fine,” you concede to him, meeting him right in the middle of his challenge. “But I don’t want this to be all about my ideas. Besides, aren’t you the one who’s been thinking about it for months now?” 

—---------------------------------------

Fall

Over fresh ink that’s barely had a chance to dry, you and Mathilde clink glasses in celebration of the very big step you’ve just taken together. The contract had barely been drawn up before she charged into now-your Vesterbro home, opened a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, ready to sign on the dotted line.

A promotion, chef du cuisine, and a bigger percentage in ownership of Kokuore—a piece of your heart—now shared between the woman who helped you create your masterpiece. 

“I can’t believe we’re really fucking doing this!” Mathilde practically squeals, bursting at the seams with excitement as she rests her arms against your kitchen island. The two of you sit side by side on twin bar stools, facing each other to the best of the chair’s swivel-ability. 

“I know. It’s unreal and yet it feels like the right thing, yeah?” you agree, half in shock. Shifting gears, your back to business as you continue with an explanation of the ownership plan that you’ve thought long and hard about. “It’s important to me to stay involved, but most of my focus will go towards the new space for at least the next year. We’ll have weekly check-ins and Mathilde, I want you to at least consider some kind of ownership eventually in the hospitality group should we go in that direction.”

“I forgot you went to business school. It’s very sexy,” she teases, but the prospect of a hospitality group feels even more exciting.  

There’s a feeling of familiarity between you and your friend as you begin to break down some of the nitty gritty details of the contract. With Luca out for a jog, it reminds you of the days when it was just you, her, and Jesper, exploring your shared wildest dreams. The nostalgia wells in your chest as you take another sip from your champagne flute. 

You were really doing this and you’re so lucky you get to do it with your favorite people. 

Well, with your favorite people again. 

Who would’ve thought that moving to Copenhagen would bring you this grand of an adventure?

—---------------------------------------

“Fine,” Luca agrees, knowing that the way he looks at you only stokes the flames you feel for him. He’s got plenty of ideas, spent maybe too much time thinking about breakfast menus and laminated pastry doughs folded with all kinds of experimental ingredients. He hasn’t felt this creative in… well… since he met you. 

“I love the idea of breakfast/brunch. And I’m already feeling really inspired by the prospect of getting to create a menu with you, darling,” Luca begins, ready to build off of your previous idea. “I guess my first question is… who will lead it?” 

He’s not expecting the elated, “You, silly!” that escapes your lips without hesitation. 

It’s not that he has doubts about himself, but you are the one with the business degree. You’re also the one that’s opened a restaurant before, so he'd be more than happy to let you take reins. 

“Not that I’m going to totally love being on opposite schedules but…” you continue, this hypothetical conversation feeling less and less hypothetical. “...maybe I turn Kokuore over to Mathilde… spend a little more time developing this next concept with you. But. Without question, my love, I think you should lead it.” 

It’s his turn to be surprised, your unwavering belief in him felt so deeply it practically takes his breath away. The only response he can get out is: 

“I love you.” 

“I love you,” you giggle in response. 

“I guess my question for you,” you shift cautiously, as it begins to dawn on you that this is something you just might want as much as he does. “...is… is this something you want to do? I mean, I know it’s going to be a really big pivot from fine dining and-.” 

“God yes!” Luca exclaims, relieved at the thought. “I’ve been dying to get away from the fine dining stuff. I-. It’ll be an adjustment, sure. But yes. Yes, it’s what I want.” 

You nod as you process, listening to the conviction in your lover’s voice. 

He wants this. He really wants this.

And he’s so sure. 

You let out a sigh of relief as you realize you don’t have to have to suppress the feeling any longer.

“Fuck it!” you declare, as if you’re inhaling for the first time. “Fuck ‘hypothetical.’ We should totally do this, babe.” 

“Yeah?” “Abso-fucking-lutely.” 

A beat. 

“So…” Luca trails off, the wave of excitement beginning to wash over him. 

“What do we call it?” 

The baritone in his voice catches your attention, and as you look at him, you can practically see it all. In Luca you’ve found your second chapter, your second great love, and now your second restaurant. The word falls out of your mouth as if it were destiny: 

“Seconds. I think… we should call it Seconds.” 

“I love it,” he grins back at you.

And now, you’re just as certain about a second restaurant, because you get to do it with him. Luca chuckles, catching your gaze once more, almost as if he’s about to say ‘I told you so,’ as he utters a cheeky: 

“Well, love. Looks like we gotta call Marcus and let him know he’s about to own 10% of a restaurant.”

[aventurineswife]

Hellooooooo! I rlly like your stuff and I don’t know if I’ve ever requested before, so I thought I’d send one in

Can I get a lil smth of Aventurine, Kaveh, and Alhaitham with a demon s/o who’s been hiding it? Like they get home earlier than the reader expects and they find them lounging around or napping without their human disguise? Please and thank ya!

Beneath the Mask

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Kaveh x Reader, Alhaitham x Reader, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Secret Identity Reveal, Soft Moments, Established Relationship Protective Partners Light Angst with a Happy Ending.

Warnings: Mild tension due to the secret reveal, Brief mentions of insecurity and fear of rejection, Discussion of supernatural themes (demons, otherworldly abilities) Some suggestive teasing.

It had been a long, hard day for Aventurine—high-stakes meetings, an endless game of chess with rivals he knew too well, and his heart racing at the thrill of the gamble. Yet, there was a part of him that longed for more—a reprieve from all the tension.

As he entered his home, he expected it to be quiet as usual, the atmosphere rich with the lingering scent of expensive cologne and subtle elegance. What he did not expect, however, was to find you lounging on the couch, relaxed and unaware of his early arrival. The moment his eyes fell upon you, he froze in the doorway.

You, normally composed, were in your true form—an ethereal demon, with wings folded lazily behind you and your human disguise nowhere in sight. The glow of your eyes, no longer concealed, cast a soft light in the dim room, and your horns—hidden under the weight of your mask—now proudly framed your face.

Aventurine's lips curled into his usual enigmatic smile, eyes gleaming with interest. He took a step forward, his shoes silent on the polished floor, a calculated glint in his gaze as he approached you.

"Well, well," he said, low and teasing, "I didn't know I had a demon living under my roof."

You shifted, not realizing he was standing there at first, and he stared at you with a mixture of fascination and amusement. You blinked, too late, and realized you were caught.

"Aventurine—" you started, scrabbling to return to human form, but he reached out and stopped you.

"There's no need to hide it," he murmured, sitting beside you. "I must admit, this side of you is... intriguing. You know, life's a gamble, and I've always been one for surprises."

A faint warmth colored your cheeks as you remained still, unsure of how he might react. But instead of fear or distaste, there was only curiosity in his eyes—a dangerous curiosity, but one that made you feel oddly safe. You relaxed again, the tension in your body easing under his gaze.

"You're a real enigma, you know that?" Aventurine chuckled softly, his fingers brushing lightly over your wing, feeling the texture beneath his touch. "Just when I thought I understood you, you throw in something like this. But don't worry. This is one gamble I'm more than happy to take."

You gave him a half-hearted smile, the burden of your secret suddenly lifting for just that moment under his banter.

Kaveh had not slept a wink all week, at least not with his eyes closed. His mind had been through cycles of juggling tough architectural details and overwhelming financial struggles, but he was greeted with your presence in your true self lounging on the chair when he walked through the door.

Your eyes glowed softly in the flickering light, no longer concealed behind the human guise that covered you at other times. The spread of your wings showed the relaxation of slumber as faint flickers danced across demonic features before you fell asleep, heedless of his arrival.

Kaveh froze. His breath caught in his chest. He wasn't unused to the pangs of surprise, but to see you in your most natural state—a demon, to say the least—was truly leaving him wordless for a moment.

He closed the door quietly, walking closer with hesitant steps, unsure how to handle the revelation. Your wings twitched slightly, as though sensing his presence, and you blinked open your eyes to meet his gaze. Kaveh's mouth went dry, a mix of shock and awe painting his features.

"You…" His voice faltered, then steadied. "You're—"

"Yes," you said, your voice teasing but a little embarrassed. "I was hiding it from you. I didn't want to burden you with... all of this."

Kaveh's eyes lost their intensity, melting from hard to something warmer and more compassionate. He rose and walked over to the chair, kneeling beside you.

"Burden me? No." He smiled, though the exhaustion in his voice remained. "You've been hiding this, all this time? From me? You know, I would've preferred the truth, even if it was shocking."

You blushed, shifting slightly as your wings fluttered. Kaveh reached out to touch one of them gently, the texture of the feathers beneath his fingers soft and warm.

"You're still the same person to me," Kaveh continued, his voice soothing. "Your form doesn't change that."

You felt relief wash through you as he spoke, the weight of your secret easing in his presence. He'd always been kind, but hearing him say that felt like a small yet significant victory.

"I guess that's one less thing to hide from you," you said softly, a small laugh escaping your lips.

Kaveh smiled, leaning over to kiss your forehead. "I think I prefer you like this—young, real, no pretense, no masks."

Alhaitham had an unremarkable day—calm, logical, a day with the usual boredom of routine work. Getting home before tea time, he settled in with his book, about to relax in peace.

You were sitting on the couch, lounging in your true form, with your wings slightly outstretched, your demon features showing without the usual concealing. Your horns were no longer hidden, curved from your head. Your eyes were soft and strikingly lit, and there was a faint hum of power emanating from you, filling the room.

Alhaitham stood in the doorway for a moment, surveying the view. He didn't flinch. He didn't look like he was surprised, as if he hadn't just come across something he would least expect. He was just composed, though his very sharp eyes studied you quite intently.

"You kept this from me," he said, his voice level and not even a shade accusatory.

You sat up, quickly realizing your secret had been exposed. "I—didn't want you to think differently of me," you stammered, but Alhaitham's gaze never wavered.

"You've never seemed like the type to hide things," he remarked, walking further into the room and sitting down across from you. "But I suppose I should have known."

A part of you couldn't help but fidget with your wings, trying to figure out how to explain yourself to him. Alhaitham's expression didn't change, though his sharp eyes were free of judgment.

"You're still the same person," he finally said, his voice firm and steady. "I know many people in my lifetime—some human, some not. In the end, it is the character underneath that matters. You're not different from before."

The weight of his words settled over you, and for the first time since your secret had been uncovered, you felt yourself relax.

"Thanks," you murmured, your voice quieter than usual.

Alhaitham tilted his head slightly, his expression softening just the faintest bit. "I don't waste time with unnecessary judgment. Besides," he said with a small, almost imperceptible smirk, "I've always appreciated a bit of mystery."

You couldn't help but smile back, calming down when you settled back on the couch. Alhaitham may not be the most expressive, but in some way, you had always felt he understood you.

[sadcoms]

timepetals thoughts i keep having:

i know that the assumption is “she is my s-” means soulmate but i always think he just thinks of rose as his soul. less that she completes him or is his other half and more that she just is his conscience and any goodness he may have is hers. he was born out of love for her, she is such an integral part of him, she is his soul itself.

i know everyone has taken permanent damage from the “how long are you going to stay with me” and why the general focus is on the doctor’s reaction but the way rose says forever gets to me. she’s not giddy or girlish when she says it, in some ways she almost sounds resigned to it, which has wonderfully angsty connotations in the timeline of s2. but it’s why it really works for me, she is so dead serious and committed when she says it, because she understands everything it means (and therefore part of her feels solemn about it). it has a lot of weight to it. even the first time donna says she’s going to travel with the doctor forever to martha at the end of the doctor’s daughter she sounds a lot more fanciful.

every time i hear the doctor scream when rose loses her grip in doomsday i just think that he would absolutely not have survived her actually being sucked into the void.

i always think the vocals in doomsday are similar to the doctor’s theme so to me the angry rock music is rose’s side and the vocals are his, rather than the howling wolf idea i’ve heard some people compare it to. how the doctor’s theme is lonely and mournful with its sparse instruments but calm, everything the ninth doctor was, while doomsday is heartbroken and angry and an entire orchestra because it’s two people overcome with grief together. how doomsday becomes such a motif for both characters individually, even when they're separated.

i still struggle to comprehend that the doctor wearing floral ties in s3 is canon and NOT a fanfic trope like you're telling the doctor said "i need a floral motif as close to my two hearts as possible" and you're describing him as something other than a grieving widower???

the doctor really could not go anywhere in s3 without running into some kind of couple but i never see people talk about the parallels in 42. “we chose this ship together / he keeps me honest so i don’t want false hope” and the way the doctor literally gives mcdonnell his condolences through gritted teeth?? the fact that she would rather die with korwin than be without him and have it be her fault

that the doctor, king of self-loathing, saw rose dressed as his ninth self and carrying a giant weapon and he not only RAN to her but then deliberately protected her from the trauma of seeing him change again. and then tentoo immediately picks a blue suit to be like now i’m matchey matchey with rose 🥰 the universe was ending and he’d seen rose again for two actual minutes but the doctor was so utterly focused on her.

how tentoo truly is rose's doctor, especially as he's got that little bit of nine in him. he's born out of the same love and protection of his previous incarnations but he loses a heart and the curse of the timelords and goes oh, this is rose's heart. and then he wears the blue mourning suit and yes, there is still mourning, but there is also the start of the rest of their lives together.

how the doctor’s hair most noticeably changed after school reunion to become spikier and less boyish. how that coincides with him using mickey to put distance between himself and rose now that he’s been reminded of rose’s mortality.

how wild the doctor and jack’s conversation in utopia is. the way the doctor says “rose” like it’s an entire explanation in itself because even before she absorbed the time vortex she fundamentally changed the life of everyone she met. the way he says “everything she did was so human” and the way he accepts jack’s sorry to him because there’s no trying to deny his feelings from jack, not when he saw his ninth self. the way jack has BARELY finished his sentence about watching rose grow up when the doctor casually asks him if he wants to die, the almost playful way he says it. one semi suicidal immortal who spent half of the season trying to get himself killed to another, both of them still kind of toying with the idea. both of them trying to have hope even though they've lost so much.

[hotluncheddie]

💕🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱💕

ty for tagging me: @runninriot @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @whimsicalwadewinstonwilson @someforeignband <3

I’ve had these worm thoughts for a while but I dunno if I'll turn it into anything. Think bc of the nuance that I would need to put in it. <|:3

But basically! I’m thinking about autistic Steve again. My lovely lovely high masking autistic Steve. Who struggles to ask for help and struggles with how much he’s allowed to share, struggles to look after himself and is still learning about his needs and his desires.

Thinking about how he’s so good at following rules, because most of the time that genuinely makes the most sense to him. It’s how he navigates the world, how he’s built his mask and scripts. How he’s kept his secrets, kept himself safe.

As long as he’s not effecting anyone else, he doesn’t need them knowing the rules he’s made, the ones he breaks and why - what that might mean. So it can be to his detriment, it can be to people please, it can be a way for him to ignore himself. But they’re also a part of him, an important part; they're all he’s ever known.

But what makes it complicated is thinking about all of that, in the context of navigating a d/s dynamic. With Eddie and him exploring that part of their sex life a little.

Because, thing is, Eddie knows how good Steve is at following rules, how willing and eager he is to be good. But Eddie’s doesn’t want to hurt him. So they would both have a lot to learn, about each other, and about communicating.

- So maybe it starts as:

‘What do you think baby? Would that be hot, you’re not allowed to cum unless it’s with my permission?’ Eddie asks, kissing over Steve’s stomach, looking up at him all sprawled out and cozy on his bed.

Steve traces the line of Eddie’s nose, lips pouting in thought. ‘Like we did the other day?’

‘Kind of, but more like, when I’m not there too. You have to wait until the next time you see me.’

Steve liked what they did the other night, Eddie going slow, teasing him a little. Telling him when to touch and when to stop and when to finish is a slow syrupy haze.

But, if Eddie’s not there. He usually likes to touch himself before bed, to help him sleep. Pretty much every night. Like, like a routine…

(And that’s the thing. Working through Steve asking for things he needs, understanding that some changes could be for his benefit. Never meant to be to his detriment. What that means for his masks and scripts and taking real care of himself. To let Eddie into the world of his rules and maybe let him make some of his own - that requires a lot of honesty, and that's scary.)

- And so maybe there's a bit of angst, some hard talks and hard truths, but then maybe it shifts into something with a bit of comfort, like:

‘How about this, we can try rules, but things that are about taking care of yourself, and we don’t have to do punishments. It’s more, like, I want you to tell me when you’re struggling Stevie, and maybe this will be something that can help.’ Eddie says, pulling Steve’s hand into his lap, connecting them.

‘You like how showering feels right? You said it makes you feel good?' Eddie waits for Steve's nod. 'Ok, so I want you to shower for me, each night, it can be quick and the same as your always do it, same with your hair.’ Eddie continues, tucking a lock behind Steve’s ear. Steve curls toward him, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his head in Eddie’s shoulder. Not looking, but listening.

‘And it might help, you know, if you think you can’t do it but remember that Daddy’s rooting for you, yeah?’ Eddie drops his voice, speaking softly into Steve ear. ‘Daddy knows his baby likes to shower and brush his teeth before bed so that’s what I want baby to do okay?’ Eddie asks, smile blooming sweet and cocky on his face as Steve squirms, shifting himself closer, throwing a thigh over Eddie’s and seating himself in his lap. That word always makes Steve feel a little crazy. Makes him feel gooey and loved.

‘But, and this is the important part baby, if you can’t, if it’s too hard, I want you to call me okay?’ Eddie asks, linking their fingers again and looking Steve in the face, waiting for his small nod.

‘And you don’t have to use that word when you call, if you just want to call me Eddie, that’s perfect too. Or if you call and say it’s a bad night and can’t get any more words out that’s fine. I just need you to call me yeah? That’s your rule. Okay Stevie?’ Eddie finishes, shaking their joined hands and smiling when Steve gets out a little ‘okay’, looking Eddie in the eyes for a flash, smiling, leaning into Eddie’s arms, moving closer for a kiss, and another, and another.

yeah! Just ideas!! Maybe I’ll write it all down one day, but maybe not. Hehehe.

✨Tagginggggg✨ : @scoops-aboy86 @pearynice @steviewashere @devondespresso @marvel-ous-m

@wynnyfryd @wheneverfeasible @thefreakandthehair

[chiefdirector]

Diagnosing | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Act Two| Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33 | Chapter 34 | Chapter 35 | Chapter 36

The beeping of the heart monitor was the first thing that (Y/N) noticed. She struggled to blink her eyes open, feeling as if her eyelids weighed a million tonnes. Despite the weight, she managed to open them, glancing around the room as her vision came back. Unfortunately, it was a rather familiar sight to see. 

Tim was sleeping in a rigid hospital chair, his hand gripping his wife’s. Despite him being asleep, (Y/N) could see the stress lines indented into his forehead. She could remember a time when Tim was never plagued with the stresses of life, when it was just the two of them against the world. (Y/N) supposed that was the only thing that hadn’t changed; it was the two of them against the world.

Tugging her hand from his, (Y/N) raised it to run her fingers through Tim’s hair. The soothing motion gently drew the man out of his slumber. With much more grace than her, he opened his eyes. 

“Hey baby,” he said, sleep still evident in his voice. “How are you feeling?”

"Fine, I guess. What happened? We were just at home." (Y/N) asked, the memory of her previous waking moments still hazy. 

“The doctor isn’t sure; you just collapsed... God, I was so worried. We’ll figure this out.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” She tried to reason. Tim’s expressions usually stayed the same, but she could tell his thoughts were running a mile a minute. “I mean, I’ve been stressed.”

Tim’s eyes softened as he pulled away, letting (Y/N)’s hand fall from his hair. Bending down, he placed a quick kiss on her forehead before saying that he was going to fetch a nurse.

(Y/N) watched as Tim left the room, shutting the door behind him. As the door clicked into place, she let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding. Quietly, she sunk back into the limp pillows and shut her eyes once more. 

—— 

Tim had been called away shortly after he had returned with the doctor. (Y/N) was right; the doctor had said the fainting episode was nothing serious. Low iron and dehydration. She was discharged with a prescription for supplements and electrolytes, being told to take physical activity lightly. She scoffed in the doctor's face at that remark. 

In Tim’s haste to get her to the emergency room, he forgot to grab her phone, wallet, or keys. Leaving her with no way back home. Instead, she idled the corridors, waiting for Tim to return. Unlike most people, (Y/N) found a twisted form of peace in hospitals; the knowledge that there would be someone close by to patch up any ailment she had suffered provided a small amount of comfort, something that she was severely lacking these days.

There was usually a bit of hustle and bustle in the corridors, doctors being paged to wards, nurses on break, maintenance crew cleaning spillages, or even patients like herself wandering aimlessly, but today (Y/N) was alone. Or so she had thought until the soft sounds of someone sniffling back tears caught her attention. 

Turning the corner, (Y/N) quickly found the source of the pitiful sound: a small boy, who couldn't be older than seven, sat with his knees to his chest. His head was pressed down on his legs in some form of attempt to muffle the noise. His clothes were ragged, there were there were rips on the shirt sleeves, and dirt caked on him. If she could see his face, (Y/N) would have noticed the subtle marks across his forehead as well as his crooked glasses.

Slowly, as not to startle the boy, (Y/N) approached him, keeping her footsteps light. As soon as she was close enough, she crouched down to his level. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.

Instead of responding, he just shook his head and continued to sniffle. With a small groan from her joints, (Y/N) shuffled around to sit next to him. “My name is (Y/N). I’m a police officer. If something is wrong, I can help. What’s your name, bud?”

This got his attention. The boy lifted his head to look at her; his bloodshot eyes bore into hers. His voice croaked as he tried to speak, leading to him coughing. (Y/N) patted his back, waiting patiently for the boy to compose himself. “Noah…Do you solve crimes?”

“Yeah, buddy. I do.”

“A detec.. Detective?” he said, fumbling out his words, 

“Yeah. You’re rather smart.”

The boy shook his head once again. “The lady on the phone told me.”

“The lady?” (Y/N) asked, trying to figure out if this is why the boy was so upset.

“Yeah, she called the old phone with the wire. On the wall,” He pointed to the payphone attached to the wall. The actual handset hung freely from the rest of the system. “She said that she was friends with a detective. Is that you, is she your friend?”

“Maybe,” (Y/N) considered her words carefully. “I’m not sure, did she say anything else?”

“That her friend was meant to meet her today, but she was sick. That's why she called the hospital; to tell her friend that she would come to them next time.”

A chill ran down (Y/N)’s spine at Noah's words. It was obvious who had called. At her silence, Noah looked up at her curiously. Shaking the spiralling thoughts away, (Y/N) turned back to the snivelling child. 

“That’s sad, I hope her friend is okay.” (Y/N) deflected.

The boy sniffled again. “Me too. I want my mommy to be okay.”

“Is that why you are out here?” she reached a comforting arm around the child.

“We were going to school, and then Mommy fell asleep. The car stopped. I don’t know where she is.”

“How about we go find her,” (Y/N) said, standing up. She held out her hand for the boy to take. Instead of responding, he placed his hand in hers and the pair set off to go find a nurse who could help them.

Tags:

once again if there is a grammatical errror, no there isnt

@xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @starstruckchopchoptyphoon @alessiamargaux @readinggeeklmao @malindacath @rookietrek @fluentmoviequoter @agentred27 @rexit-mo @omg-its-vixen @agentcable @niktwazny303 @wonderland2425 @ladespedidas

(@chiefdelusionrebel @ln4-cl16-world I believe you changed ur url. If I’ve got this wrong please let me know and I’ll remove you :))

[miupow]

𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽 ೀ⋆｡🌷 | 𝗁.𝗄𝗄 [drabble]

╰┈⪼ hueningkai x chubby!fem!reader 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 fluff, hurt/comfort, a little angst

a/n: this is a repost from my old blog! reposting for @boba-beom ‹����

── ⋆⋅♡⋅⋆ ──

hueningkai loved to cuddle, demanded it every day, but almost always ended up falling asleep— says it’s because of how warm and cozy he feels, safe in your arms. you hardly mind, despite how heavy he can be on top of you, since it gives you the freedom to run your fingers through his hair, squish his cheeks, play with his fingers. you adored your cuddle time with your boy, especially because of how sweet he could get.

“love your tummy,” kai mumbled into your neck, voice deep and drowsy— his sleepy voice gave you butterflies, so distracting paired with the noise of the tv it took you a moment to process what he said. 

“what?” you giggle, sure you heard him incorrectly, but kai repeats a little clearer, “i love your tummy, ‘s cute,” 

you blink hard. you’ve struggled with your weight your entire life, your stomach and the way it sits on your body being one of your biggest insecurities… and huening finds it cute? your boyfriend was sculpted for the gods, broad and built and fit, and you… you always felt like you were nowhere near his level. 

“it’s really not,” you retort halfheartedly, shying away slightly when kai’s hand comes up to rub circles on your middle— he recoils with a betrayed gasp, eyes wide and pout on his lips:

“what?! why do you think that? did someone say something to you?”  

you blink again, a little surprised by his reaction. “no… it’s just—“

“i mean it,” kai insisted, looking surprisingly serious and even a little angry. “if someone said something to you, i’ll go and talk to them—“

“hyuka, really,” you laugh, patting his cheek. “no one said anything.”

“well, then why do you not like your tummy? i love your tummy, baby…” kai pouted, big palm firm on your stomach. “it’s so squishy and soft…”

you frowned and twisted away. 

“‘m fat, hyuka.”

there was a painful moment of silence, huening gazing at you with big, sad, watery eyes, looking genuinely so shocked and heartbroken that you wished you hadn’t spoken at all.

“oh, sweetheart,,” he breathed, scooting down the bed so he was face to face with your stomach. he fiddled with the hem of your shirt for a moment before pulling it up— just enough so that he could nuzzle his face into the plush, rub your sides with his palms. “you’re the prettiest girl in the world, so beautiful, all mine… i love your body, baby, so soft and cuddly,,”

you made a choked off whimpering sound, hiding your face behind your hands. 

“awe, don’t hide!! lemme see you~” 

you slowly moved your fingers away from your face, blushing bright crimson, completely lost for words. this couldn’t actually be happening.

“there’s my pretty girl~~” hyuka cooed, giving you his sugary sweet bean smile. you wanted to smile back at him, but you were too shocked and embarrassed to do much more than stare. you must’ve at least looked cute, though, because kai giggled and shook his head at your expression. 

“cutest tummy,” kai leaned down to press a soft kiss to your stomach, “most beautiful princess i’ve ever seen,” he peppered another kiss. “my favorite plushie, so cuddly,” and another. “i love you so much,” and another. 

your face felt wet. you wondered if you were crying.

“don’t ever think you’re anything less than perfect, okay?”

. . . taglist! @wintertxt, @boba-beom, @wolfytae-exe, @takemehye, @naomiarai , @mapofthemazeinthemirror , @bunnie-hq , @doumachi, @numxra, @soobinsbuns, @taegimood, @jeniihss (fill out the form here to join my taglist!)

[oceansarepink]

am i the only one who's not intersted in "is stolas good or bad father" discoure because in either cases their relationship seem empty and shollow

the only thing we know about them is they spent time togther sometimes they don't. but what is in they exactly do in that time except singing lullabies and going to parks . like sure when you're a parent you are your child's best friend but you're also their mentor teacher ,nurse and thearpy should i assume that stolas is good at all those things just because he play with his daughter when she was young .

also i'm speaking as somoene who is in age similiar to via's age (today is my 18th birthday if sinsmas is octavia birthday eposide that makes me 2 monthes older than her) even tho the teen/father relationship would be diffrent from family to other , most teenager like to distane themselves from their parents and rather to discouver who they are outside their parents wings and not the other way around espacially if they disappoint them. the fact that via is still too dependent on her father makes me think her needs wasn't totally fulfill as child , but again those relationship diffrent from someone to other so i might be wrong .

(also those who call octavia selfish spoiled child to defend stolas don't realize they're calling out stolas becase he raised her like that)

That’s fair enough. All the relationships are pretty shallow. I can tell stolas was very involved in his daughter’s life when she was little but took a step back when she grew older. And Octavia seems as though she could’ve been depressed even before the cheating, which only made everything worse.

I’d like some idea of their daily routine because my goodness. The three of them just hang around the palace doing absolutely nothing. What is stolas job??

As for teacher and mentor? Pfft!!! Yeah he’s supposed to be teaching her magic, but their spellbook is GONE 29 nights out of 30. I think vivzie forgot that this means stolas cant teach her any spells! I realised this after @arteicetb s video on the subject, the only channel I’ve seen that has properly gone into his problems as a parent in my opinion.

I’d like to see just a few scenes of Octavia engaging in her hobbies and talking to her friends. Example: creating some taxidermy and speaking about why she likes preserving the image of life in something that is dead. It is a strange practice but it is a form of art with an interesting philosophy behind it. Demonic zoology is also just a really cool world building concept? Octavia loves the strange dark and macabre according to Instagram but until that’s put in the show it isn’t properly canon. She’s also trying to write her own music.

This is perhaps random but I’d love a scene like this, Stella teaching Octavia how to hold a royal ball, and all the stuffy requirements that come with it.

- you must wear several corsets and frills

- expressions must be just so

- don’t sit a Marquis above a Duke

- curtsy to royalty, wave to nobility

- do not allow entry of commoners. No exceptions.

While Via struggles with the status quo and traditions of things because stolas has raised her to be a normal gen-z child. However he knows this is a temporary lifestyle until she’s 18 and makes her “debutante” ball. Octavia did not know this. Stella knows that stolas has only given her the childhood he wanted, the life of a commoner, which has set her up for failure. Octavia doesn’t even know her parents had an arranged marriage because stolas insisted on lying to her for 18 years for the sake of a “normal life”

Octavia entering adulthood without her father, and reflecting on both the good parts and the bad parts of his parenting, could be a really interesting direction for her. She is none of the things her father’s fans say she is. His fans are only protecting the flaws of their precious little near-40-year-old boy from his teenage daughter.

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

First of all, thank you to my darling Lola @monamipencil for tagging me for this, it's actually the perfect opportunity for me to announce this.

This is officially my last post on this account. As much as I adore this account, it was started over 7 years ago as a shared account and I think it's about time I actually start an account that is entirely my own.

If you want to continue following me, my new account is @nothoughtsjustfic and I'll be very happy to see you there!

However, if you no longer wish to follow me, I just want to say thank you for following me this far. I appreciate all the support I've received on this account over the past years and I truly wish all of my followers, past, present and future, the very best of things.

For my wrapped I want to look back on not just 2024 but all of my writing on this account as a kind of final farewell to the account so excuse that this is a lil long.

I also got carried away with fic recs at the end oops.

First pieces of writing on whipped-for-kpop-fics

My first piece on this account GOT7 catch you staring 117 notes 0.9k Individual GOT7 x reader reactions, fluff. Posted 4th April 2017

My first fic on this account Birthday Boy 386 notes 3.8k Jungkook x reader smut. Posted 1st September 2017

First piece of 2024 Petnames Seventeen would use for their S/O  93 notes 0.9k  Individual Seventeen x reader headcanons, fluff. Posted 24th March 2024

First fic of 2024 Starlight Eyes 103 notes 14k Idol Seungkwan x staff reader, friends to lovers, fluff. Posted 28th March 2024

Last piece of writing on whipped-for-kpop-fics

Naïve 127 notes 11.5k Best friend Chan x reader, thriller, angst. Posted 27th November 2024

Most popular pieces of writing

Delivery Boy  2,312 notes 3.3k  Delivery boy Jungkook x customer reader, smut. Posted 9th October 2017 I still can’t believe this is the most popular thing I’ve ever written literally 7 years later.

Life’s A Beach 1,663 notes 7.3k  Lifeguard Mingyu x reader, strangers to lovers, smut. Posted 23rd July 2024

Let our lips lock, baby 1,162 notes 9.6k Mingyu x reader, friends to lovers, fluff, smut. Posted 6th April 2024

BTS when their S/O shakes from an orgasm 1,021 notes 0.5k Individual BTS members x reader smut reactions Posted 8th February 2018 Okay this one has genuinely surprised me; I never knew this post was so popular and honestly forgot about it. Made me laugh to reread just now though. I remember I used to get so frustrated looking for gifs to match the reactions because the laptop I had then was so slow. Ah, memories.

Longest fics

Troublemaker 994 notes 15.9k Gang boss Seungcheol x gang member reader, angst, fluff, crack, smut. Posted 9th September 2024

Mirror Mirror 175 notes 15.9k Seokmin x witch reader, magic au, fluff, minor smut, minor angst. Posted 27th October 2024

My personal favourites on whipped-for-kpop-fics

Protection Squad 42k series. Shapeshifter Yoongi x reader, angst, fluff. Posted 2nd April – 21st June 2018 This series started because I was struggling mentally and wanted to write about playing with cats as a form of therapy and then this happened. I got a lot of responses and asks about this series from readers who related to the big mental health theme and so I think that is such a big reason as to why this series will always have a special place in my heart. I like to think it helped readers who were struggling feel seen and understood, like they aren’t alone. Plus it’s shapeshifters and I love that, even if the writing is obviously written by a much younger me.

Troublemaker 994 notes 15.9k Gang boss Seungcheol x gang member reader, angst, fluff, crack, smut. Posted 9th September 2024 I truly think this is one of the best things I’ve ever written and I don’t think I’ll ever write something better. The vibes were just on point when I was writing and this one really ran away from me but in the best of ways. I genuinely adore this story and the characters.

Dark 191 notes 3.2k Monster Jeonghan x human reader, horror. Posted 18th August 2024 This was the first attempt at writing a horror fic and I loved the entire experience of writing it. It opened my heart and mind up to this kind of darker fics, and the feedback I received for Dark really made me so happy and convinced me that I should write more horror/thriller fics in the future!

Total pieces of posted writing: 33

Reactions/headcanons: 18

Fics: 15

Total posted wordcount: 121,420 (roughly)

Writing plans for 2025

To open up my new account starting on the 1st January 2025 I’m going to post a less than 3k word piece for each Seventeen member, including: another vampire Jeonghan fic, single parent Seokmin and siren Seungkwan! I’m very excited about those.

But what I am most excited about is that in 2025 I will post the entire first part of my pirate Seventeen series! Part one includes 7/8 chapters and each should be around 10k so this is going to be my longest story perhaps ever but it’s all planned and I’m so in love with it, you have no idea. I think the total wordcount for the pirate fic will be around 500k, which is admittedly terrifying and no doubt daunting as a reader but I hope at least one person will join me on that adventure when it happens!

I’m really bad at actually picking favourites so this is just a list of some of the fics I’ve read and enjoyed this year, arranged by svt member because why not.

Poly crossroads by @smileysuh Mingyu x reader x Wonwoo A New Rhythm by @sluttywoozi Yoongi (BTS) x reader x Jihoon

Seungcheol Have My Baby by @seokgyuu on my knees by @sescoups eat. play. love. by @husbandhoshi

Jeonghan young & stupid by @wavesmp3

Jisoo mr. nice guy by @toruro

Junhui ocean view by @junkissed What’s My Age Again? by @milfgyuu

Soonyoung Burnt Coffee by @highvern warm by @ddeonghwa-s Yes, Baby by milfgyuu just a moment with you by husbandhoshi (s)exercise by @monamipencil charity f*ck by @ncteez What? Like It's Hard? by @starsstuddedsky

Wonwoo no such thing as too perfect by @fairyhaos into the night by @etherealyoungk Heart of the Sea by highvern 34.6037° S, 58.3816° W by @the-boy-meets-evil

Jihoon Shy Woozi by @hoshifighting The Hair Tie Test by sluttywoozi Somewhere In The Middle by sluttywoozi

Seokmin RAW by @ourdawnishotterthanourday $$60 billion by @onlyseokmins

Mingyu When I Kissed the Teacher by highvern Whipped by @minisugakoobies The Way of The House Husband by @wonustars

Minghao Perspective by @tomodachiii

Seungkwan Who Wants to be a Dumbass by @soongyeopsal The Beach House by @bluehoodiewoozi

Hansol Quondam by @flurrys-creativity favorite coworker by sescoups The Cat-Parent Trap by bluehooziewoozi

Chan venus in furs by monamipencil DOES HE KNOW? by @hannieehaee

Oh I got far too carried away with this fic list and now this post is super long but all of the fics are more than worth it! Seriously, I highly recommend each of them.

Thank you to everyone who has supported this account, and me, by following, reblogging and commenting. I endlessly appreciate every single one of you.

May this next year be a happy and healthy year for us all and may we all feel genuine love, in whatever form that comes in be that platonic, romantic or otherwise.

See you again, I hope, Chee 💗

Closed: 31/12/2024

[babydollmarauders]

YOU’RE LOSING ME — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n is struggling to grasp the fact that she and jack have grown apart amongst his newfound nhl stardom

warnings: angst, neglectful jack, dying relationship, long intro (so sorry), alcohol

specific lyrics: “remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light. now, i just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time” and “how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?” and “how long could we be a sad song 'til we were too far gone to bring back to life? i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy and all i did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier. fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me. i'm the best thing at this party (you're losin' me). and i wouldn't marry me either; a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her. and I'm fadin', thinkin' "do something, babe, say something" "lose something, babe, risk something" "choose something, babe, i got nothing" (i got nothing) "to believe, unless you're choosin' me"”

notes: idk how i feel about this. it’s been awhile since i’ve written an actual fic so i think my writing is a little rusty. there will be no part 2 to this one! i know y’all love when i make part 2’s to my angsty fics, but some fics i just wanna keep as angst and this is one of them <3

maybe we were naïve. young and innocent in thinking our love would last forever. that we could withstand everything the universe had to throw at us.

i could give us this; we did last past Jack’s rookie year. but maybe that’s when things started breaking. i couldn’t tell you for certain.

when we moved to New Jersey, we were going on three years into our relationship. we thought that milestone of three years meant we would be together forever.

we went apartment hunting, i opted to go into online schooling rather than on campus classes, late night whispers consisted of marriage and future children.

now, the last time i even brought up marriage, he told me he wasn’t ready for that. that he was at the peak of his career and didn’t want to spend time that could be used bettering his skills, to plan a wedding.

i spend most nights in an empty bed, the cold sheets serving as a harsh reminder that my boyfriend would rather go out with his teammates than spend time with me.

rather than the past early mornings of soft loving stares and cuddling on his bare chest, i now spend my mornings glaring towards my boyfriends sleeping figure; trying to calculate when he may have gotten home after i had already fallen asleep.

seven years. one-third of my life, spent with Jack.

no one ever said love would be easy; but no one ever told me it would be this hard either.

the mug in my hands is at risk of breaking from my grip, the coffee inside having gone cold. a cruel euphemism to how our relationship has cooled. the burning fire that it once was, now fizzling to dying sparks. but i still hold onto what’s left, because i’m not sure i know how to live a life without him anymore.

i sit curled up on the sofa, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the New Jersey skyline. i still remember the day that Jack and i decided on this apartment, this room was a deciding factor. we loved the lighting, the way the sun shone through the windows and cast a golden haze over the rest of the apartment.

now i sit in the darkness nearly every night, wondering if this was the end of our relationship; if it’s time.

the worst part is that we keep going on. keep playing house. pretending that our relationship is still as happy as it once was.

‘i love you’s never became a rarity, still uttered past our lips multiple times a day. but i know his words only hold an empty promise now.

how can he say he loves me when he can’t tell that this relationship is killing me?

that this dynamic of our relationship becoming a chore has slowly broken me down?

our life is robotic now. we wake up, he leaves for practice, i stay home, i do school, he comes home for a pre-game nap, he leaves for a game, i still stay home, i go to bed, he comes home, repeat.

even worse when he’s away. what once started as facetime calls whenever he was free on a roadie, slowly died until it’s nothing but a few measly unsubstantial texts.

at first i thought maybe we were just going through a rough patch, that we would get through this, but now i fear we won’t.

***

my eyes track my boyfriend at the crowded rooftop bar as i nod my head, only half paying attention to what Ryleigh says.

Nico’s surprise party has been a success. for Nico, at least.

i, selfishly, thought i would use this party as an opportunity to grasp Jack’s attention. i wore the dress that he used to say was his favorite, but not once did he mention it. i curled my hair because i knew how much he loved it, but he didn’t compliment it how he usually does. i dolled myself up in hopes that it would glue him to my side. maybe even spark that possessiveness he used to hold for me.

but instead, all i got was a measly and empty ‘hey babe, you look nice.’ when i arrived, before he chased Dawson down to discuss some new bar he wanted to check out after their next win.

i spent the next hour following him around like a lost puppy, standing by his side as he spoke to his teammates. if he hadn’t had his hand resting on my lower back, i would’ve thought he forgot i was there. but somehow being forgotten would’ve felt better than being ignored.

i’m the best thing at this party, or at least i should be to him, and he barely spared me a second glance.

eventually, i saltily left to find the other wives and girlfriends. for the past three hours now, i sit with Ryleigh and Darya. Ryleigh is currently recounting she and Dawson’s date night last night.

the party has been dwindling down, our group of people among the bar slowly dispersing, giving their final birthday wishes to Nico and going home.

“what about you and Jack?”

“hmm?” i perk up at the mention of my boyfriend, dragging my line of sight away from said boy and back towards my friends.

“i asked about you and Jack. when was your guys’ last date night? how was it?” Ryleigh is only trying to be polite, i know that. but she’s only reminded me that Jack and i haven’t gone on a date in what has to be at least six months.

“honestly? i couldn’t tell you.” i confess. “i don’t even remember the last time we went on a date.”

“well, that’s not right! we should do a double date soon! i’ll have Dawson set it up.” she smiles. “ooh triple date! you and Yegor should come!”

“we’d love that!” Darya chimes in. i let out a polite smile, but i know it won’t happen. i’ve tried too many times to set up a date night and nothing ever comes from it.

“hey, baby. you ready to go?” Dawson saunters over, planting a kiss to his girlfriend’s cheek. Ryleigh nods, bidding Darya and i goodbye.

“hey, y/n? i think Jack was looking for you.” Yegor tells me as he comes over next, gathering his wife to leave for the night.

“he was?” my voice is filled with a pathetic hope, an excitement over even the thought of my boyfriend seeking me out. but when i look back to where i last saw him, he still stands next to his captain, laughing over something one of them said. “thanks, Shara.”

he smiles, the both of them now saying their goodbyes. and then there was one.

i sit by myself, lazily chewing the straw in my drink as i watch my boyfriend and his friend.

i quickly lose track of how long i sit there, ordering drink after drink. eventually, i stop watching Jack, opting for mindlessly scrolling through instagram instead.

“hey.” my head snaps up at Jack’s voice, watching as he finally joins me. my heart thumps in my chest, like i’m a teenager again, at the thought of spending time with him. “i think i’m ready to head home.”

my mood deflates, my shoulders slumping, but i nod, gathering my purse as Jack sets some cash on the bar top to cover my drinks from the night.

i wobble slightly as i stand, Jack’s hand coming up to hold onto my arm, making sure i don’t fall. heat spreads from the site of the touch, shivers racking my body.

“you okay, babe?” he chuckles, pulling me into his side as we walk to the elevator, pressing the down button and waiting for it to arrive. “how much did you drink?”

“i don’t know. maybe three? i lost count after the first hour alone.” i shrug, my words are slurred, a product of my tipsy state. “i started off with sprite, but i switched to gin and tonics once Darya left.”

Jack is silent as we get into the elevator, his brows furrowed and him seemingly in deep thought. the whole ride home is quiet, the air charged. i spend the whole drive with my head turned to look out the window. but as soon as we reach the parking deck of our apartment, getting out of his Range Rover, he speaks up again.

“you could’ve come and found me? i was just with Nico.” i’m silent for a moment, picking up my pace to try and reach apartment faster.

“i didn’t feel like being ignored again.” i shrug as we step through the door, the alcohol giving me obvious courage that i never had before.

“what do you mean ‘again’? i haven’t ignored you.” Jack follows behind me into our bedroom, his eyes tracking me as i sit on the bed and begin unfastening my heels.

“stop.” i sigh.

“stop what? y/n/n, when have i ignored you?” his genuine obliviousness hurts more than i thought it could. the fact that he didn’t even realize he was ignoring me; that it was just a subconscious reaction for him to push me aside.

“every day.” i tell him. my eyes start stinging with tears, finally ready to have the fight that i’ve so desperately been avoiding. but it’s obvious that Jack doesn’t feel the same.

“i’m sorry you felt that way.” he tells me, barely sparing another glance my way before he starts grabbing pajamas out of the dresser.

“you’re losing me.” my words are choked out in a whisper, but i know he hears them because i watch as he stiffens, slowly turning around.

“what?”

“Jack, this doesn’t feel like a relationship anymore. it feels like a job. a chore.” i confess. “it doesn’t feel like you love me anymore and i need you to just say it. because i love you too much to keep going on like this.”

“y/n-”

“we barely talk, Jack.” i cut him off. “when we do, we’re struggling through empty small talk. you’re barely home, and when you are, you don’t try and spend time with me. i sit in this house, alone, even when you’re here.”

“what are you talking about? y/n, we’ve been together for almost seven years. we’ve been through so much together.” his words are harsh, defensive.

“exactly! i gave you all my best me’s- i gave you my teenage years, i gave you all of my best years! i gave you all my empathy when you were being called a bust. when you were struggling in your rookie year and at your lowest. i sat here and comforted you after every loss! i stayed here and cried and tried to be brave every time you were gone. i defended you to everyone!”

tears roll freely down my cheeks, my nose becoming stuffy and my throat tightening. i’ve risen from the bed now, still keeping my distance from him though.

“and what do i have to show for it? an empty apartment? an empty relationship? we used to spend hours talking about marriage and our future. now, the last time i tried to bring that up, you all but told me you didn’t want to marry me.” i scoff. “and i can’t blame you, i wouldn’t marry me either; a pathological people pleaser.”

“don’t say that, please.” he whispers.

“but all i wanted was for you to see me, Jack! i’m here! i have feelings! i know it’s hard to believe, but i’m a person too! i need love! not whatever this has been.” my words fade off at the end, breaking off into sobs.

Jack’s eyes are red, tears of his own slowly descending as we stand in silence.

“do something, please. say something.” i plead, furiously wiping at my tears. i swallow a lump in the throat as he finally takes a step forward.

“i’m sorry.” his voice is shaky, breaking midst sentence. “i’m so sorry i didn’t know you were feeling this way. i’ve been so wrapped up in hockey and the team that i haven’t been here. not fully, at least.

“i took you for granted. i guess you’ve been this dependable force in my life for so long that eventually i forgot that you need more than just my presence.

“i do love you, y/n. i can’t imagine my life without you. i’ll be better, i promise. just, please, don’t leave.” he begs.

Jack steps forward, closing the distance between us and taking my face in his hands.

“i need you. i’ll always choose you.” his hands shake on my cheeks as he pulls me into a kiss. he pulls away, heaving out a broken mix between a sigh and a sob. “i’m so so sorry.”

“we can fix us. i believe that. but please, don’t put me through this again.” i beg, laying my forehead against his.

“never.”

[saviorellie]

wrestler!abby headcannons.

pairing : abby anderson x reader

pov : second person , fem terms for reader

warning(s) : just fluff !!! college au obviii

notes : abbyyyyyy my baby :,)))) i’ve been obsessed with her for so long but recently she’s taken over my every waking thought!!!!!! it hurts my soul that there aren’t more wrestler!abby things on tumblr so i will b your dealer

ooohhsdhsksdh wrestler abby

wrestler!abby goes to your school on a full ride scholarship (super smart)(national championship wrestler)

as much as she enjoys wrestling she’s truly just the sweetest person ever

like on the mat she look soooo scary but as soon as soon as the match is over she’s smiling and shaking hands and giggling

she could never ever try boxing cuz she as violent as wrestling is, she is terrified of boxing because it’s so violent

she would never ever use her size for anything other than good outside of a match

in high school so many people were scared of her cuz she’s tall and strong and shy :((((( so in college she made it her goal to be more outgoing

the first time she hurt someone during a match she cried so hard she almost threw up

literally almost quit wrestling because she felt sooo bad

wrestler!abby’s main way of flirting is picking you up and throwing you over her shoulder

she likes that it makes you laugh (and she likes showing off)

wrestler!abby lovesssss it when you go to the gym with her

even if you’re just sitting there watching, she loves having you there

abby would never admit it, but seeing you at her matches really gets her going

she likes to think you’re her little good luck charm

wrestler!abby’s muscles are always sore so when you run her a bath or rub her shoulders ohhgdhshds

she could cry tears of happiness

most of the time she is super super hyperaware of how much stronger she is than the normal person

but she sometimes forgets how tall and strong she is around people she really trusts (i.e. you)

if it’s just you guys around, personal space does not exist unfortunately

one time, she truly forgot how strong she is and slapped your arm really hard (playfully)(on accident) and you cried (for like two seconds)

she felt terrible i think the words “i’m so sorry” left her mouth at least 25 times

she didn’t touch you for like an hour she was so scared of hurting you again :(((((( poor baby :(((((((

she really is just a giant teddy bear though :(((((

she lovesss standing next to you or holding your hand because she’s so much taller than you and her hand is so much bigger

(biggest size kink ever)(what who said that ??!!!!)

she would never say this out loud but she loves being babied sometimes!!!!!!

*her exes would expect her to be this super strong, super tough person all the time and it really sucked :((((

she loves to be little spoon and to be held and to be called “baby”

wrestler!abby loves the idea of you being her cute little housewife

as much as she loves to be babied she is a provider to her core!!!!

she sees those tiktoks that are like “day in the life as a stay at home girlfriend” and she’s like….. yeah

speaking of being a provider ! wrestler!abby’s love language is 1000% gift giving

just imagine her coming home with the most random shit just because it reminded her of you

i’m tearing up just thinking about it

she never ever lets you do anything by yourself when you’re at home

if she sees you struggling AT ALL !!! she is by your side in 2 seconds

she has like a 6th sense . if you’re struggling with anything she’s like……. something’s wrong

wrestler!abby is sooooofdjkjdhfs overprotective

holding your hand at parties and if you’re going out or putting her hand in your back pocket

every time someone approaches you at a party or at a club, she is staring them downnnn

checking their vibes and what not

now as much as she hates being super violent, more than once has she gotten into as… altercation with a creepy guy at a party

what can i say ! she’s gotta protect her girl !

[xxlady-lunaxx]

Sanemitsu but make them the obamitsu dying scene with Mitsuri dying in Sanemi's arms and him watching the love of his life slowly die.

a bit late in responding bc..bc this is sad

The moment Muzan’s body disappeared, Sanemi found himself searching. He wasn’t quite sure for whom, or what, except that something in his brain told him he couldn’t quite rest yet. People around him were celebrating, relief crashing through them simultaneously. But he couldn’t quite share their tired cheering. For some reason, he was panicking. It didn’t hit him why for a long moment as he scoured the chipped ground, but then his eyes caught onto an unruly mess of pink and green and a surge of adrenaline made him stumble forward. Someone tried to stop him as the mix of Slayers and Kakushi came to their senses and began the tedious trek of recovery. Sanemi managed to just barely slip around them, using the fact that he was slippery with blood to duck out of their hold. They called out to him, probably worried for his state, but he ignored their calls, already by Mitsuri’s side. He knelt down, hissing as the rocky ground dug into his raw skin. Mitsuri seemed to notice him now, turning on her side. She was absolutely drenched in crimson, her usually pristinely white haori now tattered and soaked through. She was alone, having been deposited to someone to heal her during the fight but, presumably, they’d left to find help. Her smile was faint as she caught sight of Sanemi.

“The sun is up,” she mumbled, eyes half lidded. Sanemi gaslighted himself into thinking it was from the sunlight. “Did we win?”

He scooped her up, cradling her in his arms. He couldn’t tell whose body was the most fragile. Mitsuri felt unnaturally light, as if the blood loss had lessened her weight. Perhaps that was how Sanemi had made it here. His own body felt as if it could float away at any second.

“We did,” Sanemi rasped. His head ducked down, limp and exhausted. He managed a vague smile. “Fuck yeah, we did.”

“I’m glad,” Mitsuri breathed. “I’m sorry I didn’t do much in the fight. I wanted to do more, but-”

Sanemi shook his head. He felt dizzy from that alone. “No. Without any of us, we wouldn’t have won. ‘s fine, Kanroji. You did just great. We just have to wait for- for one of the Kakushi to come. Or someone. They’ll bandage you right up,” he promised. Empty promises were his thing, it seemed. He fought back the memory of Genya, trying to reason with himself that Mitsuri would not die the same way. Genya hadn’t been able to come back because of his demon attributes. Mitsuri didn’t have them. Surely, he could save her.

“I don’t…” Mitsuri trailed off, eyelids fluttering. She struggled with herself, blinking up at Sanemi. “I don’t think I’m going to make it, Shinazugawa-san.”

“No, you are,” Sanemi said firmly. “You fucking are.”

Mitsuri offered him a knowing sigh. Her life seemed to seep out with it. Sanemi held her tighter.

“I lost too much blood,” Mitsuri continued, “so it’s too late for me.”

Sanemi bit his tongue hard enough to taste the fresh tang of blood fill his mouth. He swallowed. “No.”

“I’m glad you came to see me before, though,” she said quietly. “I’ve had some”—she cut herself off with an abrupt cough, eyes squinting shut until she settled back down—“things. That I wanted to tell you.”

“Tell me later,” Sanemi interrupted. “When you’ve rested. And can think better.”

He was fooling himself. He could’ve laughed at his futile attempt to make things right. How many times had he done this before? How many times had he failed? His only consolation was that he was likely to die with her.

Mitsuri noticed the stirrings of his resignation. A tear smudged the blood that had dried on her cheek. “I wanted to tell you that I’ve always liked you,” she whispered. “I admired you and… wished to… be with you. But I was happy to have you as my coworker—as a friend—so I never said anything.”

“Fuck,” Sanemi stammered. He didn’t even know what to say now. “You should’ve- You should’a told me.”

“I didn’t think you’d feel the same,” she admitted, a soft laugh following her words. The sound was sweet to Sanemi’s ears. His posture sunk until he was nearly doubled over her. He attempted to righten himself.

“I did.” His voice came out choked and meek. His own reflection would’ve called him pathetic. He struggled on. Maybe if he kept her talking just a bit more, someone would come and work a miracle on her. She was younger than him. She still had a family and so much ahead of her. She deserved so much better. “I loved you so fucking much. But you were supposed to find someone better to marry. Not someone like me, who has nothing to offer. Didn’t think you would’ve noticed me, either. You were always in your own world. I always wondered what it’d be like to be there with you.”

Mitsuri’s response took a while, this time. Her voice was barely there anymore. Her previously staccatoed breathing had softened to shaky, desperate breaths. “I should have said something, hm?” Her smile lacked energy.

“No. You should’ve found someone better,” Sanemi said. He said it flatly. Knowing he would’ve hated it. Would’ve resented himself for never saying anything, because he always hoped she might be the one to save him. From himself. She was always amazing in that way. Effortlessly bringing a smile onto someone’s face. He’d be damned to say she’d never made him feel better with a single word.

“Better? Than you?” Mitsuri asked. Her eyes closed. It took a moment for Sanemi to realize that the light was glinting off her tears. Fuck. She was crying.

“Yeah. Anyone else would’ve fit you better,” Sanemi breathed. He paused. He was feeling lightheaded. “Mitsuri.”

Her name was replied to with a quivering smile. “I always wanted to hear you say that.”

Sanemi could barely hold himself up at this point. His forehead rested ever so gently against hers. “Say my name,” he pleaded.

“Sanemi.” She uttered his name like a prayer. To what? Him? “Sanemi,” she repeated, softly. “I really love you.”

“I-” Sanemi nearly choked on his own words. “I really love you too,” he mumbled. He went to say something else, letting his thoughts flow from his lips. But he never got to know what he’d meant to say. His breath hitched, his eyes flickering open. There was a sudden absence. It took him a moment to place it. His gaze traveled down to Mitsuri, tracing her features. She’d always been so, so beautiful. Even when he’d resented her cheery nature, he’d found her so, damn pretty.

“Mitsuri?” he heard himself say. But his mind, fatigued and slow, was finally catching up with his realization. She was no longer breathing. Fuck. Fuck, she wasn’t breathing.

His hands moved numbly, trying to push air back into her lungs. Hoping to make her heart beat again, pleading with himself to revive her. Something warm and wet pricked his eyes. He thought he was bleeding again but a drop fell, branding itself on Mitsuri’s skin. He wiped it away shakily. Oh, fuck, he was crying now. His vision blurred as he bent down low, face buried in Mitsuri’s chest. The last of her heat was fading, disappearing quickly. Everything was cold. The sun, though providing him with light to see her, had failed to preserve her warmth. Had failed to keep her alive and breathing and. And, really, it was his own fault. He was sobbing. As if it would help. His shoulders shook. He’d done this before, had knelt on the ground and held someone equally, fruitlessly begging for them to return. And somehow, it felt as if Mitsuri was disappearing, too. Her body was merely the carcass of someone who had been, but who’d never be again. She was gone. Mitsuri was gone.

<3

Sanemi should’ve died. There had been a higher chance of him dying than of him living. But he seemed to defy everything. He awoke. Aching, coughing, barely hanging in there. But he was awake. And alone.

His head hurt, and he couldn’t place his surroundings. He was already slipping back into unconsciousness when a single thought slipped passed him. He should’ve died.

[thepupperino]

Hiiii, Keely! It’s been a while since I’ve found myself in the inbox of my mutuals with a thoughtful question about our boys. However, we’re preparing for the hurricane down this way and I’m looking for something to keep me occupied — like talking to all of my beautiful lovely friends!!

So what I want to discuss today is the love language of our boys. What love language(s) do you think they each excel at and which one(s) do they struggle with the most? Do you think their love language(s) have changed since the beginning? Do you think they still excel or struggle with a certain one(s)?

I would also like to pick your brain on your thoughts of how they protect one another — how they protect one another physically, how they protect one another’s peace, how they protect each other mentally, etc! 🩵

— Much love, Chey

Hi I almost accidentally deleted this instead of answering and my life flashed before my eyes

Anyway THANK YOU for asking this was very fun 😈

So I feel like it’s pretty universally believed that Mickey’s a big acts of service guy, but…can I be honest? I know the man loves a grand gesture, but I think that’s different than acts of service. Honestly the grand gestures almost feel like gift giving to me? Plus I love believing that Mickey grabs a Kind bar for Ian every time he stops at a gas station. I don’t know, especially growing up poor, it changes the way you think about material possessions, and I think he’d want to give everything he can to Ian

I think Mickey probably struggles with words of affirmation—at least receiving it. Like he’s probably more comfortable with it now, but I think for a long time he felt weird about Ian saying nice things to him and was pretty dismissive of any compliments

I 100% believe Ian is a physical touch man—he’s ALWAYS touching Mickey (hand on knee my beloved). I think he just loves being close to him. Plus obviously their sex life has always been…fulfilling and Ian was down bad from the start so I think that plays into it

I also love thinking of him as a words of affirmation guy because I really latch onto the fact that he tested out of English so I KNOW he’s good with words and I know he writes the cutest, sweetest little cards for Mickey on his birthday or their anniversary

Hmm what does Ian struggle with…? Ironically I think he might be a little resistant to gift giving because I think he’s the saver in the relationship, so Mickey keeps getting him these little “I’m thinking of you” gifts and Ian’s like stressing about rent (but also he loves it because that’s his HUSBAND and he’s thinking about him 🥹)

And I don’t know if love languages have changed since the beginning per se, but they’ve obviously both become more comfortable with expressions of love throughout their relationship and I’m having a lot of feelings about that

PROTECTION?! Well physically they will literally kill for each other if push comes to shove I am very confident in that. For some reason I like to think that Ian always tries to walk closer to the road so Mickey won’t get hit if a car swerves or something and Mickey thinks he’s dumb but lets him do it anyway. And Mickey wants to be facing the door on dates and stuff so he can size people up and assess any threats

Protecting each other’s peace I think they’re both willing to be the bad guy if they need an out. Like if Ian just can’t handle being around his family for some reason, Mickey’s like “tell ‘em I’m not in the mood”

MENTALLY I have a lot of feelings 😭 obviously canonically Mickey is great with Ian’s bipolar (we pretend Hall of Shame doesn’t exist) and I think that continues and grows (“I gotta worry, you’re my husband” my beloved). I think he’s VERY aware of potential triggers and warning signs and I think he’s supportive AND gives Ian space when he needs it because he likes his autonomy and independence

I think Mickey has a lot of unresolved trauma and I’m not like his therapist or anything but I’d want to assess for PTSD and generally unhelpful cognitions, and I love the idea that he goes to therapy some day (honestly I’d love if they both did), but I think Ian is really good at holding space for him to share what he’s thinking about AND I think he’s eventually willing to do that

Anyway I hope that answered your questions and PLEASE feel free to send me more, I love thinking about them