#everyone else was too busy to guest star

[honeyhenry]

Possessive!Bruce headcanons

I'm very nervous to post this as it's a little different from my usual work! I tried my very best to write this as it was my first ever request for Bruce and had been voted over 50 times by you lovely lot! I really hope I have done this justice, it's still very sweet because I just love sweet things!!

Bruce is the type of man to have his hands all over you, certainly in private but definitely in public. He wants every eye looking in your direction to immediately link the two of you together. To know that the two of you are connected physically, and in every other way.

Often at the galas you both attend, his hand will rest at the small of your back as you both effortlessly glide past your guests, pausing briefly to smile or offer a kind or complimentary word. (You were too sweet for a man like him, he thinks, but he will always aim to be a better man for you and follow suit.)

Speaking of!!!! The compliments this man gives you in front of others not only makes you blush, but is a double edged sword for anyone who had even a millisecond of thought about you or your relationship.

"isn't my girl so beautiful" aka she's the most beautiful and she's mine

"I couldn't host any of this without her" aka we are never parting even for a moment

"we're just as surprised as you are that we managed to have the manor prepared for you all arriving....we are incredibly busy" aka you two fucked all day because it was duty to keep you happy while you were simply begging for him...

and believe me...the subtext is obvious to everyone close enough to hear him

whew

but yes at galas he has you right by his side, keeping close to you, and if he's not holding the small of your back then he will definitely be holding your hand

not in a clingy way but in a "she's mine and she's staying with me while I talk funds and management strategies." you don't mind leaning into his broad stature, squeezing your hand when you want his attention, which he readily gives

there are many times where you miss an event because he was just too wrapped up in you to care about actually leaving the manor

"baby, you look too good I don't want anyone else to see you...this can be just for me"

"bruce...I spent so long getting ready...I was looking forward to trying that place's oysters"

the Michelin star resort delivers the oysters to the manor door for Alfred to receive, right as bruce has you on your second orgasm that night

at high end restaurants, or the days you manage to convince your upper-class husband to visit your favourite local cafe, he always requests a booth so you can sit together.

he's not sitting across a table from you when he could be right there with a strong arm around your waist and a hand on your thigh as the waitstaff take your orders, hopefully being paid well enough for their efforts to ignore the intimacy of your embrace

Bruce just can't help the fact that he'd delivered quite an exquisite dress to you earlier that day, so his presence by your side ensured that anyone who dared to look, would have to deal with him first.

the dress - and you - were for his eyes only

once, Bruce had snapped both of your orders at a poor young boy who's gaze had merely blinked down to your cleavage, before growling a request for another waiter "with manners"

"Bruce, he's only young...besides...the dress doesn't leave much-"

a squeeze to your thigh lets you know, even without words, that he was deadly serious about his claim on you

"no one looks at what is mine" he had gritted out

the jewellery also marks his possessive nature!!! You hadn't had much of a collection before meeting Bruce, and now he could use his wealth to decorate you in pretty jewels and precious metals that people would instantly associate with his status and class

the first he gifts you is a bracelet with "mine" engraved on the inside. once he clips it onto you, you never take it off, matching it with every outfit for every occasion. for you it's far more sentimental, and you enjoy being his.

you don't mind his little possessive streak. you feel so safe knowing how invested he is in you, how serious he is about his commitment to you.

the second item of jewellery he buys for you is a pair of earrings, worn only to grand events, with sparkling diamonds that glint beautifully with each and every dress you own

he loves hearing you be complimented on your jewellery "oh thank you, Bruce got me them. doesn't he have wonderful taste?"

oh yes, he thinks, he does.

you adore the necklace he gifted you for Christmas one year, and make it a habit to wear every day. A small, dainty, shining letter 'B' hanging from a delicate chain. Initially, Bruce had suggested it stood for you being his baby, one of his favourite nicknames for you. but you knew better. B stood for Bruce, and it meant you belonged to him

one of your most precious - if not the most special - pieces he gifted you was your engagement ring

you dread to even think of a number that comes close to its value, but when he dropped on one knee, Bruce Wayne knew that a giant diamond was the best way for people to know you were his

in every picture since your engagement, he loves to find and look at your hand which unmistakably carries the precious stone. through photographic evidence, you were his.

when you married, and had been spotted at further events, it was unmistakable that you were a Wayne due to the pearls hanging gracefully around your neck

Martha's pearls

Bruce could only part them from the other family heirlooms once you'd signed on the dotted line to be his forever, and now a Wayne in name, he couldn't think of a better way to show the world that you were his

Bruce feels much more possessive of you when you are crowded. even by one person. he doesn't want you to ever feel uncomfortable.

when you visit his offices, he meets you right away so that no one else has the chance to steal you away or talk to you. you are his and you belong to him only. you never mind, you always laugh at his intensity

"honey, who else would I be here to see?"

one time Bruce did NOT make it to you first, as you'd decided to visit his office as a surprise

one of the men from sales or some other irrelevant department - in bruce's words - had seen you standing at the mid-floor elevator, dressed in your favourite sundress and a light shawl. despite your rings, which he either hadn't spotted or plainly ignored, he had started a line of conversation about how a "pretty thing like you" seemed lost in such a place as Wayne Tower.

"Maybe I could give you a tour, and afterwards we could grab a drink?"

You had tried, politely, to decline. For more than the obvious reasons, you knew the second Bruce caught wind, this man would be made jobless, homeless, or even headless depending on his mood.

"C'mon sweets, don't be shy. I'll even tell ya a couple secrets about the big boss here. That guy's a wack job"

enter Bruce, via elevator

he sees you first, as always, and then the man who is practically breathing the same pocket of air as you

his inital response is to punch he guy's lights out

but he's not Batman here. he's Bruce Wayne. Owner of Wayne enterprises, the Prince of Gotham, and first and foremost, your husband.

you smile, relieved, as you catch Bruce's eye as he strides over to you with an sly air of confidence and a stern expression

"who's your new friend, baby?"

he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you tightly into his side as you lean up to kiss the space between his cheek and jawline

Safe to say the stuttering, bumbling fool who had approached you, never set foot back in the tower

during sex, Bruce growls your name, claiming you as his, pumping into you while he reminds you; "all mine, you hear me? who do you belong to huh? who owns you? who gives you everything you deserve and more huh? that's right baby, say my name"

"bruce....fuck...i'm all yours"

that's gets him cumming every time

whenever you wear his clothes, his brain shuts down entirely, except that primal part that wants you right on his lap so he can admire you inside and out

the morning you put his shirt on for breakfast, you ended up not leaving the bedroom for 3 full days

not even Alfred deserved to see you wearing that

your pregnancy was not planned, but also not unplanned

you loved the idea of a family, a baby that looked like your husband who you could love and raise together

Bruce loved the idea that with a swollen belly, everyone would know you were his

However, Bruce was so possessive of you and your growing baby, that he'd convinced you that it would be better off to spend your pregnancy in peace

you were a goddess carrying his baby, and no one else deserved the privilege of seeing that

Bruce owns a film camera and snaps hundreds, if not thousands, of pictures to look at and admire. you take plenty of him, especially adoring the ones where his hand rests on your belly

which, let's face it, is 90% of the time

one afternoon you feel the baby kick, but bruce is in the garage setting up a car seat in each of the cars, so the only person to hear your squeals is Alfred

he rushes to the library in the north wing, where you feel most comfortable

"Mrs Wayne? Are you-"

"Alfred, it's the baby, they're kicking! feel!" you all but place his hand to the side of your belly

sure enough, Alfred feels it, before removing his hand and clearing his throat

"i shall fetch Mr Wayne at once, he will be so thrilled"

Bruce is in the library within the minute, heart racing from the excitement he feels at the opportunity to feel his baby move within you

"B, come here...feel!" you pull his large palm to your belly, and again, within a moment, a gentle kick presses against the spot of skin he has engulfed with his hand

he's about to comment when you softly whisper "they did it there for Alfred too"

Bruce blinked, moving his head away from your belly to now take a better look at you

"wh- Alfred? He felt...my child..." his brows furrow in annoyance

Safe to say, Bruce had to give himself a reality check when he feels possessive about his family over his own butler doing his job by being there for you.

"He helped me, honey. He's family too. Please don't be mad at him" you had pouted

Alfred just chuckles it off as he leaves you both in peace "Mr Bruce has always been one to keep what’s his just for him, Mrs Wayne. You and your child included."

Bruce insists on private healthcare, only the very best and most professional to keep his family safe

“Well they���ll be born in the manor, not...Gotham general” he would spit out

he watches the doctor and midwife like a hawk, frowning as you winced at the cold gel smoothed over your stomach

"Should she be shivering?" he'd asked, pointedly

"Brucie...hey, relax...they're just doing their job."

safe to say, he has a million (actually 76) questions for the doctor.

When they manage to get Bruce away from you for all of 4 minutes, they do a welfare check to ensure of your own health

"It's good to have a strong support network, especially due to the private nature of your pregnancy. Has your husband been involved? He's not worrying you, distancing himself at all?"

You could only laugh

“He’s been….clingy. A little….over-possessive…but in a sweet way. He’s so good to me, to us. We're all doing so well.”

Bruce Wayne would die for you, but in the meantime he would have you all to himself, and he would make sure that the world would comply

[kiyo-cant-write]

Heyya, I have comeback with an idea. I'm sure you'll like it too. Still I will bring this guy up, but you can add your favorite .

So Yuu got sick, heavily sick. The boys sometimes comes to visit and take care of Yuu. i also found out that when someone got sick, they crave sweet and carbs. So imagine Yuu heavily sick, walking down the stair of their own dorm craving sweet. Just to get sweet jam and bread and they seemed to be a brink of passing out, unless they got their sweet jam bread.

As always I bring Silver, but you can add your own favorite character too if you want.

- 🎵 anon

silver & malleus with a sick!reader ✧･ﾟ

.

Hello anon! I am so sorry this took me so long! My health and uni work always takes precedence but I do love writing for this blog even if I lack the time to do so... ^^

I like writing for Diasomnia, they're silly xD Malleus is my favorite but I love them all sm. I added Lillia as a guest star only but was tempted to make him his own scenario... Maybe next time.

Thank you for requesting!!!

Note for everyone that I have a few requests left from earlier to get done before the close of the year and then everything else sent from here on will not be posted until 2025 January. Please keep this in mind, thank you for supporting me!

.

Summary: The reader gets taken care of by Silver/Malleus when sick.

TW/CW: mentions of illness/symptoms

Notes: pre-relationship, the reader is Ramshackle Prefect/Yuu, they/them pronouns for the reader, Malleus' "incident" is from canon

Guest Stars: Lilia Vanrouge. Grim

.

.

.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Silver

Silver has been sick a few times when he was young.

However, he quickly built a strong immune system from having to eat Lilia's cooking and train as a child.

The last time Silver was especially sick was when he was 8 or 9.

Because of his experience with humanity, he knows a bit about treating illnesses. Still, he would rather ask someone to be sure.

Unsure of whether the school nurse would be busy or not, he selects his father (Lilia) to ask. Father is very knowledgeable.

Between Lilia's advice and his own knowledge, Silver is prepared enough and manages to be a help not a hindrance.

He does get into a small spat with Grim, though, for invading Grim's territory.

Silver wasn't sure what was happening, but the pot hadn't boiled over even with his nodding off. Still, he was surprised that the kitchen was still usable. At first, he had planned to tough it out himself when [Name] got sick but he now had the help of his father and Grim (though Grim had initially tried to burn Silver for entering his esteemed territory).

"Isn't it easier to work together?" Silver asked, directing his question to Grim who huffed despite agreeing with the white-haired boy.

"Myaa, I guess so."

Grim's tail flicked in annoyance with the situation. He had become even more irritable since finding that he was not allowed to be a glutton with the soup they were making. It wasn't for him and Grim seemed offended by that fact.

"Silver," Lilia said a moment later, "Are you sure I can't add things to this? I know of some hearty things sure to get [Name] back to good health."

Lilia held up something that Silver trusted less than he'd trust Sebek with a chainsaw. It was a vibrant purple and somehow also a neon green and smelled strange, reminding Silver of the strange things he had eaten as a child whenever he was sick. Lilia cared, surely, but those plants were... bitter and sometimes nauseating to even imagine.

He shook his head. That could not be fed to an already-sick [Name].

They would get sicker!

"No, you know how I feel about your soup. I just needed help chopping things since [Name] might be sick for a while."

Lilia shrugged.

"More for me later then~" he told Silver.

Silver did not ask about that comment.

"Are they going to be okay?" Grim asked, pawing Silver.

"Certainly," the boy assured, "They just seem to have something that will take some time and rest to recover from."

"If you say so..."

Silver wished he was better with words and could reassure Grim of [Name]'s safety. However, he wasn't sure what to say or how to explain it. He was focusing so intently on the soup and on staying awake that little else could enter his mind.

The room filled with the gentle aroma of the homemade soup as the recipe was completed. Silver turned off the burner.

"And I can't have some?" Grim asked, whining.

"You can have some of my veggies~" Lilia told him with a smirk.

"NO! THAT'S POISON!" Grim shouted, ducking behind Silver for protection from the feared veggies Lilia held.

"Surely, it isn't. I promise," Lilia chuckled darkly.

"Father, don't harass Grim," Silver chided the old fae, "And Grim, you can have some but most of it is for [Name] if we want them to recover well."

Grim nodded slowly.

"Fine..."

Silver ignored the continued bickering between his father and Grim as he ladled soup into a bowl. It was warm and filled with all kinds of [normal] vegetables. It should help them!

"YOU JUST WANNA SEE ME GAG ON THAT PLANT!"

"No, no, it's good for you."

"IS NOT!"

"You won't know unless you try it."

Silver placed the bowl onto a wooden tray that [Name] had in a drawer in the kitchen. This would be easy to carry up the stairs to [Name]'s room. Holding a bowl of hot soup might... hurt. It was rather hot, but hot food was good for someone who was sick.

He considered asking Grim to come with him but when he turned to head towards the bedroom, both Grim and his father were gone. Where had they gotten off to? Were they fighting? If they were fighting he might try and stop them...

But he needed to focus on [Name]'s health.

He knocked on the door.

"[Name]? Are you awake?" he asked but he only heard some coughing in return, "Alright, well I'm coming inside."

He pushed the door open and walked up to the bed. There sat [Name], coughing softly with a flushed face and sweaty forehead.

"Hey, Sil," they managed after the coughing subsided, "Is that for me?"

They looked curiously at the tray and he leaned forward to set it on their lap, balancing it so it wouldn't spill and then pulling away.

"I made you some soup to quicken your recovery," he told them.

[Name] looked at the bowl and then at Silver.

"Aww, thank you," they said, coughing a few times because of the strain on their vocal cords, "That's really sweet... of you."

"I hope that it helps, I don't like to see you so uncomfortable."

"You made this for me so it'll help me for sure," they told him with a smile, "I appreciate this."

[Name] tried not to think of the implications of being cared for by someone like this... It was so domestic.

"Ah, well, I'm glad."

Silver offered them a soft smile which they returned.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Malleus Draconia

Malleus thinks that humans are very fragile. Too much so.

He hates to think that an illness could take [Name] from him.

This fae is also unfamiliar with human illnesses and remedies.

He consults Lilia on the proper way to heal a human.

However, in his inexperience with human technology... some things are lost in translation and what Malleus ends up doing is far from what Lilia meant or what would have helped.

Malleus considers that he should have asked Silver.

[Name], sick as they are, may have to explain what they need to Malleus even if it takes them some energy to do so.

Once he has a clear explanation of what to do... he will do it.

Even if his crazy OP magic ability gets in the way somewhat.

Somehow, through this, Ramshackle is not destroyed.

Malleus wasn't sure if this was right. Looking at the kitchen around him, he feared he might have made things more difficult for [Name]. What would they think when they awoke? The kitchen was in utter disarray, there were pots in the sink and ingredients on the floor.

This was all because of that damned thing.

Truly, Malleus did not have any of the patience needed for these human contraptions. What in the world did they invent them for if they didn't work? He sighed to himself as he imagined how easy this might have been otherwise.

Still, he was a respectful fae and he had promised [Name] weeks before to follow one rule when at Ramshackle: no giant shows of fae magic. At first, he had been insulted, but [Name] (and Lilia) had pointed out that his magic was strong and he could destroy the dorm. It pained him to imagine making them sad, so he had agreed.

"I'd best contact Lilia..." Malleus said to himself, knowing he was the only person in the dorm besides the illness-ridden [Name], Grim, and the ghosts who seemed frightened of him still.

Malleus: Lilia.

Lilia: hmm? what's up, malleus? :3

Malleus: [Name] is sick. What should I do?

Lilia: You can try to make some soup for them.

Lilia: Soup helps when humans are sick.

Lilia: I used to make some fire ones for Silver when he was a boy.

Malleus: Fire? Flames?

Lilia: Human slang. It means "good."

Clicking the picture Lilia had sent of his hand-written list, Malleus noted that these were all what was deemed as "healthy." Was this all supposed to go into the soup? Malleus wasn't sure. Some of it seemed like it wouldn't be the best-tasting soup if it were combined with the other things on Lilia's list.

Pumpkin sardine strawberry liver soup?

As Malleus continued to look through the list, his phone shut the app he was using accidentally. It must have crashed. Fiddling with the phone, Malleus tried but was unsuccessful in bringing the list back up. His frustrations crushed the phone to bits.

Well, isn't that just great? Another one is dead. Always difficult creatures, cell phones.

But Malleus was not going to give up so easily. This illness would not take his Child of Man from him. No, it would not. Putting what remained of his phone into his pocket (he would bother Lilia and Silver about it later), he turned back to the messy kitchen (all his own fault).

"I will make soup or die trying," he told himself, "I promise."

A few minutes passed and an explosion rang through the house.

"Mal... Malleus?? What are you doing?" [Name] asked, standing in the kitchen doorway and coughing from a mixture of sickness and inhaling the smoke from the (minor, in comparison to last time) explosion.

"Making your wellness soup."

Malleus said this as though it was obvious.

"Whatever soup it is, it's probably burnt," they told him, coughing again, "Cooking from scratch is hard, it's why I just have the canned stuff like Grim's tuna."

"Canned..." Malleus echoed.

That might have been easier, at least.

"Yeah, it's microwaveable," [Name] said, walking into the burnt kitchen to find the canned soup from the cupboard.

"Oh, I'm not allowed to touch those things. Lilia's orders."

Malleus disliked remembering that time.

"...What?" [Name] responded head in a cabinet.

Did they hear him right?

"There was an incident," Malleus said as an explanation.

It was not a very good explanation.

[Name] chose to ignore it and sighed. Must be a fae thing.

Holding the can, they opened it quickly and dumped the contents into a bowl in one motion, trying not to cough too much as they did so. If Malleus was going to blow up Ramshackle, it was probably better that they cooked for themselves.

Malleus seemed to be pouting in the background.

"..."

"You tried your best, I appreciate it," they told him.

"I am sorry about your kitchen."

"It's fine, Grim did worse trying to make a casserole with the ghosts. Something about it only needing 3 seconds in the oven if it was a certain temperature?"

[Name] laughed.

If they were smiling like that... How could Malleus stay upset? Besides, there was more he could do to help the sick human, right? Malleus was not going to leave [Name]'s side. Not now, not yet.

"That does make sense though. If it was hot enough would that not quicken the speed?"

[Name] gave the fae prince a look.

"Malleus Draconia, don't make me make a rule about no dragons cooking in my kitchen..."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[teapartyprincess4two]

‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧ MASTERLIST ‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧

☆click each individual name to access series☆

🧸fluff 🦢angst 💋smut 💌headcannons

🎀platonic fluff ✨AU 💃🏻Latina reader 💐sad

‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧ Sturniolo Triplets ‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧

⭒ Big Sister- Sturniolo Triplets 🎀

summary: Reader is a couple of years older than the triplets, having lived a completely different life to theirs by the age of 25 and is invited onto the Cut The Camera Podcast as a special guest. Reader and triplets retell stories of their childhood and learn more about the readers past.

⭒ Big Sister Pt. 2- Sturniolo Triplets 🎀,🦢

summary: After visiting the triplets in L.A, the reader returns back home and works with her brothers to plan another get together. This time the triplets visit her, taking a trip down to the Lone Star State.

⭒ Big Sister Pt. 3- Sturniolo Triplets 🎀

summary: Your brothers have always been overprotective of you, and they do a good job of showing it while filming with Sam and Colby.

☆N. Sturniolo☆ (click for series)

⭒ Truth or Dare- N. Sturniolo 🎀

summary: Nick and his best friend always find themselves playing truth or dare.

⭒ 4 In The Morning- N. Sturniolo 🦢,🎀

summary: Your best friend Nick comforts you after receiving some unexpected news.

⭒ Talkative- N. Sturniolo 💌,🎀

summary: head cannons of Nick with a yapper bff!

☆M. Sturniolo☆ (click for series)

⭒ Full Set- M. Sturniolo 🧸

summary: Reader is a well renowned nail tech in L.A and due to her growing popularity has become everyone’s go-to nail tech. This leads her to become a workaholic, stunting many of the areas of her life. Three regular customers work towards changing that.

⭒ In Denial- M. Sturniolo 🦢,🧸

summary: It’s hard to admit when you’re in love, especially when the person you love is so different from you. But, as they say, opposites attract.

⭒ Small Town Dreaming- M. Sturniolo 🧸

summary: There’s not much to do in this small town but fall in love.

⭒ Heartbreak Girl- M. Sturniolo 🦢

summary: Matt’s in love with you, but you’re too in love with someone else to realize it.

⭒ Heartbreak Girl PT.2- M. Sturniolo 🦢,🧸

summary: Matt tries moving on, but you reel him back in every time.

⭒ Manage- M. Sturniolo 💋

summary: You’re Matt’s secretary, in charge of overseeing everything related to his schedule. Everyday when you come into the office he suppresses the urge to take you then and there. When on a work business trip, he can’t hold back anymore.

⭒ I’ll Play Your Game- M. Sturniolo 🦢,🧸

summary: You’re the Pastor’s daughter, all eyes are always on you. So, why not put on a show?

⭒ Intrusive Thoughts- M. Sturniolo 💋

summary: You’re forced to sit on Matt’s lap during a long roadtrip and once you arrive at your destination he lets his intrusive thoughts win.

⭒ Intrusive Thoughts PT.2- M. Sturniolo 💋

summary: The morning after yours and Matt’s night together, you go for round two.

⭒ Carnal Desires- M. Sturniolo 💋

summary: You join Matt and his family on a vacation, and get lost together while on a hike. Instead of freaking out, you two take advantage of the sudden alone time.

⭒ Talkative- M. Sturniolo 💌, 🧸,💋

summary: head cannons of Matt with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

⭒ A Cold Sunday- M. Sturniolo 🧸

summary: You and Matt spend a cold Sunday morning together, snuggling up and keeping warm.

⭒ Urban Cowboy- M. Sturniolo 🧸

summary: Matt, a city boy, tries one upping you, the best bull rider in town, only to be met with a painful outcome.

⭒ Why Do You Care?- M. Sturniolo 🦢,🧸

summary: You’re naive and let yourself be led on by someone you believe has good intentions, but one day Matt puts him in his place and ends up confessing his feelings to you in the process.

⭒ Parenthood- M. Sturniolo 💌,🧸,💋

summary: head cannons of dad!Matt.

⭒ Lipstick- M. Sturniolo 💃🏻,🧸,💋

summary: Matt’s nervous to meet your family, but after making a good impression you treat him to a night full of kisses and lipstick stains.

⭒ Happy Birthday- M. Sturniolo 💐,🧸

summary: Over the course of working together for years, Matt picks up on everything and despite not understanding it completely, he comforts you through the hurt.

⭒ Tough- M. Sturniolo 💌,🧸,💋

summary: head cannons of Matt with a tough girlfriend!

⭒ Weakness- M. Sturniolo 💋

summary: You fight your inner desires, but ultimately let your weakness consume you.

⭒ Actress- M. Sturniolo 💌,🧸,💋

summary: head cannons of Matt with an actress girlfriend!

⭒ Affectionate- M. Sturniolo 💌,🧸,💋

summary: head cannons of Matt being affection with his touch starved girlfriend!

⭒ End of the World- M. Sturniolo ✨,💋,🧸

summary: No one deserves to die a virgin, not even at the end of the world.

⭒ On Stream- M. Sturniolo 🧸

summary: Matt mentions you on stream, causing the chat to go crazy.

☆C. Sturniolo☆ (click for series)

⭒ Corner Store- C. Sturniolo 🧸

summary: Chris is your annoying coworker who always manages to make your shifts a little more miserable than necessary, but it turns out he has a misunderstood crush on you.

⭒ Way Over Love- C. Sturniolo 💋

summary: Chris struggles to accept that he likes you as more than a friends.

⭒ Shopaholic- C. Sturniolo 🧸

summary: No matter how hard you try, you just can’t stop swiping your card.

⭒ Unplanned- C. Sturniolo 🧸

summary: Becoming a teen mom was never in your plans, but you and Chris had to learn to make the best of it.

⭒ Candy- C. Sturniolo💃🏻,🧸

summary: You were sweet as candy and Chris couldn’t stop himself from taking a bite, leading to an internet scandal neither of you anticipated.

⭒ Talkative- C. Sturniolo 💌, 🧸,💋

summary: head cannons of Chris with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

⭒ Parenthood- C. Sturniolo 💌, 🧸,💋

summary: head cannons of Dad!Chris.

⭒ Snowed In- C. Sturniolo 🧸

summary: Sometimes the mundane moments are the most beautiful.

⭒ Patience- C. Sturniolo 🦢, ✨

summary: Chris is a train wreck, his glamorous rockstar life coming to a full stop when his choices finally catch up to him. The whole world turned their back on him and he didn’t expect you to stay.

‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧ Johnnie Guilbert ‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧

(click for series)

⭒ Collab- J. Guilbert 🧸

summary: You and Johnnie pretend to date, faking it for so long that it became real.

⭒ Vampire- J. Guilbert (prologue) ✨.💋,🧸,🦢

summary: You take your relationship with Johnnie, your vampire lover, one step further.

⭒ Vampire- J. Guilbert ✨, 🦢, 🧸

summary: You’re just a princess who fell in love. The only problem is that he’s a vampire and your father has promised your hand in marriage to someone else.

⭒ Bad Day- J. Guilbert 🦢,🧸

summary: Johnnie is the moon and you’re the sun, always bright, bubbly and energetic. Nobody believes that someone as positive as you can ever have a bad day, but when you do Johnnie is ready to comfort you through it.

⭒ Babygirl- J. Guilbert 🧸

summary: You didn’t choose a life in the limelight, you were just famous by association, and now you’ve earned yourself the nickname “babygirl” by the entire internet.

⭒ Monster- J. Guilbert 💋

summary: Tara plays matchmaker, earning Johnnie the night of his life with you in a bar restroom.

‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧Jake Webber ‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧

(click for series)

⭒ Messy- J. Webber 💋

summary: Jake is a regular customer at the diner you work at, eating the same meal everyday before returning back to work. One day, when you’re taking his order, you can tell he has much more sinful intentions than a quick meal.

⭒ Call Out My Name- J. Webber 💋

summary: When you film a video with somebody else, Jake’s jealousy takes over.

‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧Carrington‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧

⭒ coming soon…

‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧Norman Reedus‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧

☆ Daryl Dixon, The Walking Dead

☆ Murphy Macmanus, The Boondock Saints

☆ Diego, Sky

☆ Van, Floating

⭒ coming soon…

‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧Pedro Pascal‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧

☆ Javier Peña, Narcos

☆ Joel Miller, The Last of Us

☆ Oberyn, Game of Thrones

⭒ coming soon…

‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧5SOS‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧

☆ C. Hood

☆ A. Irwin

☆ L. Hemmings

☆ M. Clifford

⭒ coming soon…

‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧Lip Gallagher‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧

⭒ coming soon…

[visenyaism]

ASOIAF POV characters ranked by how good of a guest judge they would be on drag race (definitive ranking)

24. Arys oakheart. spectacularly bad in a way that would also be bad TV because he simply would not know what to do. and would be icky about it.

23. Ned stark. canonically gets suspicious of people just because they are gender nonconforming.

22. Aeron greyjoy. people are going to wonder why i put him as Victarion on this list. this is because I think victarion has a better personality for reality TV.

21. Victarion greyjoy. good TV, would win reverse GLAAD award for most homophobic event on television.

20. Areo hotah. too stoic.

19. Quentyn. little nerd in over his head. if Barristan Selmy is telling you that you are not serving hard enough it’s already over.

18. Barristan selmy. a #ally for revealing that egg legalized gay marriage for his kid daeron and being happy about it, but does not have a lot else going for him. would probably say everyone looks nice

17. Bran. seven.

16. Joncon. IS gay, but does not seem like he’s super into all that.

15. Jon. Would probably awaken something in him.

14. Jaime. does not serve cunt, is one.

13. Brienne. Listen she’s trying her best okay.

12. Samwell Tarly. Would DEFINITELY awaken something in him. too busy blushing and telling everyone they look great to be an actual judge.

11. Arya. One thing about her is she WILL be finding people and she WILL be talking to ALL of them which makes her a great TV personality, but i think she would get bored.

10. Davos. Can’t explain this one i just think he would be down.

9. Cat. Serves, afraid to FULLY serve. Ally.

8. Asha. gets off on being mean to pretty boys so you know she is having a great time.

7. Dany. what can i say she’s a star.

6. Tyrion. definitely has the personality for it.

5. Cersei. is a fascist but showing up in full rhaegar eleganza to her husband who she murdered’s funeral. cuntress. You KNOW she would kill it.

4. Arianne. Definitely the first person you would think to ask to guest judge and for good reason.

3. Sansa. 13 year old fashion icon who loves gay people so much. Is so into it the whole time. meticulous notes.

2. Theon. could be the greatest to do it if he could ever get over himself but as it stands simultaneously knocks it out of the park and is a total train wreck. extremely fun to watch.

1. Melisandre. Serves like her life depends on it which she thinks it literally does. Obsessed with appearances and performances. off putting antagonistic cryptic and weird. fantastic TV.

[hisfavegirl]

Dangerous Heart - Mafia!Maegor Targaryen x Girlfriend!Reader

Pairing : Mafia!Maegor Targaryen x Girlfriend!Reader

Warning : Mention of blood, obsession, harsh language, violence, mention guns, Maegor and reader are trying to kill each other at some point, teasing, Maegor being a sugar daddy.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

The first time Maegor saw you, he hated you.

Not in the way he hated his enemies—not with rage or fury—but with something colder. Something possessive, something dangerous. A feeling he didn’t understand.

And it all started with that man.

The event was filled with the elite—business moguls, politicians, celebrities. Everyone who mattered in this city was here, yet Maegor’s attention wasn’t on any of them. His eyes had locked onto you the moment you walked in, your beauty stealing the breath from his lungs before he even knew what was happening.

He knew who you were, of course. Everyone did.

A model. A rising star. Untouchable.

You didn’t belong in this world of shadows and violence. You weren’t supposed to be standing next to the kind of man who thought money could buy anything—including you.

The old man beside you—your so-called date—was exactly the kind of man Maegor despised. He was greedy, arrogant, entitled. And worst of all? He didn’t even respect you.

Maegor saw it in the way the man’s hand gripped your waist too tightly. The way he leaned in close, whispering something that made your jaw clench. The way his fingers slid over your bare skin without your permission.

And you?

You endured it all with a perfect, practiced smile. Like a doll. Like you had no choice.

That was the moment Maegor’s hate turned into something else—something sharper, something lethal.

It wasn’t just about you anymore. It was about him—that pathetic excuse for a man who thought he could own you just because he had money.

So Maegor made his choice.

He didn’t wait. He didn’t think.

He simply acted.

With smooth, deliberate steps, he approached you, his towering presence casting a shadow over the both of you. Your so-called date barely had time to turn before Maegor gripped his wrist—hard.

“That’s enough,” Maegor said, his voice low, dangerous.

The old man turned red. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Maegor ignored him. His dark eyes never left yours.

“Say the word,” he murmured, “and I’ll make sure he never touches you again.” Your breath hitched. Something flickered in your gaze—shock, curiosity… relief andd that was the beginning of it all.

Your breath caught in your throat as Maegor’s men dragged the old man away, his protests fading into the background. You barely registered the murmurs from the other guests, the way they subtly stepped back—as if sensing the shift in power.

Your eyes snapped to Maegor, wide with shock.

“What are you doing?” Your voice came out steadier than you felt, but Maegor only smirked.

“Taking what’s mine.”

He stepped closer, his presence commanding, undeniable. The heat of his body wrapped around you like an invisible force, dangerous and inescapable.

“You—” You hesitated, your pulse racing. “I’m not yours.”

His fingers brushed over your wrist—gentle, but firm.

“You are now.”

There was no doubt in his tone, no hesitation. Like it was already decided.

You should have been angry. You should have pulled away.

But for the first time that night, you felt safe. No more unwanted touches. No more forced smiles. No more pretending.

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe.

And as Maegor’s grip tightened slightly—just enough to ground you—you realized something terrifying.

Maybe you didn’t want to run.

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @callsignwidow @searatarg @vaelry @ashblooddragons

[lunaandco]

a little bit too old

pairing: pedri x ofc

summary: natalia pastor owns a luxury restaurant chain in spain. she's worked hard for her success, but has neglected the romantic aspect of her life. at 32, she should not be entertaining the advances of a hotshot, decade younger, footballer but... he makes some good arguments.

warnings: age gap

taglist: @htpssgavi; @joaosnovia

masterlist // I do not take requests

Natalia loved working on the kitchen. It was right where it all started, when she was twenty two, with a loan, an idea and the culinary degree under her arm. A decade later she owned the most successful luxury restaurant chain in Spain, she was a self made business woman that didn't need to work anymore.

And yet, she enjoyed going back to the kitchen and working with her chefs, make the dishes she had designed herself, for the rich patrons that could not tell the difference between a medium rare and a well done steak.

That was how she met him for the first time.

Her restaurants were no strangers to celebrities and famous characters from all over Spain, so when the rumour ran across the staff that Barcelona's midfield sensation was among the guests, Natalia did not think twice of it.

But Pedri was curious, and was accompanied by people that knew a thing or two about food, namely, his family, who all were involved in the running of their own small restaurant.

Natalia sometimes wished she had opened a small restaurant like that herself, with earthy homemade food and warm regulars. But she wanted to be in the avant-garde, in the elite. She wanted the Michelin stars, the money and the prestige.

The family was invited to see the kitchen after they finished dinner, when the restaurant was about to close. It wasn't unusual, specially if Natalia was around. Rich people liked to have exclusive experiences and things like that. Natalia had learnt how to satisfy them in that regard.

However, this family was a bit different. The older brother looked around in admiration, the eyes of a chef in development drinking it all. Natalia made a note of checking on his progress in culinary school. He might be an asset down the line.

The parents, meanwhile seemed interested in how big the kitchen was.

"If you leave me here alone I'll get lost," joked the father. Natalia smiled politely, as the mother squeezed her husband's arm. They seemed sweet.

And Pedri? He was listening out of politeness, but he was not looking at the kitchen. He was not looking at the food. He was looking at her.

And he was hungry.

Natalia squirmed a little. She was used to getting attention from men who considered her attractive, who wanted to own her. She had learned early on that men tended to be gold diggers as often as they complained about them, her few boyfriends when she was on her early twenties all tried to hijack the business from her. She was also used to older men flirting with her, wanting to turn her into their little housewife.

But the way Pedri looked at her, she could tell he wanted something else.

He was young, she knew that. Too young for her to actually entertain whatever he wanted.

But if felt nice, being looked like that. Like she was desirable.

It had been years since she chose to sleep with someone. In her late twenties, Natalia had had a few flings and one night stands, but with time she had grown bored an lazy. It was not worth it. She stood by it, still.

💙❤️

Pedri kept showing up. Sometimes with his family. sometimes with his friends, but Natalia got used to seeing him around. He was polite, never conplained, the kind of costumer everyone loved. The waiters adored him, said he was kind and charming.

Natalia tried to ignore the impending sense that something was going to happen. That he was going to do something. That this was the calm before the storm.

It was a warm September night, Champions League success still fresh in culers tongues, when Pedri showed up alone. He ate his food quietly, his cheeks permanently pink even if it was clear he had not done any exercise hours previous to the dinner.

Natalia made his dessert herself. It was a fruit salad, not the fanciest or more complex thing on the menu, but clearly the one that fit his diet the best.

When it was time to leave, Pedri dragged his feet. Natalia clocked it from the bar, where she was making a drink for herself. She knew it was a matter of time until he approached her, but instead of doing the right thing. and retreating back to the kitchen, she waited.

And he did reach her, a slight stammering and hands twitching at the sides of his body. He was charming. Natalia found herself mirroring his smile, leaning to hear every word tinted with Canarian accent.

He wanted to meet. A date, actually. Natalia giggled nervously.

"I think I'm a little bit too old for you, cariño," she told him, but Pedri shook his head.

"Not really."

"I'm a decade older than you," she protested.

"I know." Natalia's eyes darted around the room, checking that no-one was looking at them. Only Lupe was near enough to hear, preparing the drinks for a table of six. "I don't care," he insisted. "I... I've never been into girls my age."

"I..." Natalia gaped like a fish. It was rare that someone could catch her by surprise, but Pedri had managed. She wasn't sure what she expected him to say, he seemed hell bent on going on a date with her.

"You didn't say a straight no, though," he smiled. "I know age gaps like this can end up very badly, but I really want to try it."

Natalia sighed. This was a problem.

💙❤️

Her back hit the wall forcefully, but Natalia was too busy scratching the back of Pedri's neck, and returning the intensity of the kiss, to worry about it.

His hard body pressed her against the cool surface, arms caging her, thigh parting her legs and tongue slipping inside her mouth.

Her first assessment of Pedri being hungry was right. She had just not realised how starved he actually was.

Natalia bit his lower lip and he groaned, a hand reaching to grip her jaw and keep her in place. Usually she would insist on having the upper hand in a hook up, but there was no time to tell Pedri otherwise.

And for the first time in quite a long time, Natalia actually wanted to be led.

💙❤️

Pedri did not leave after they were done. He buried his face on Natalia's pillows, a low whine coming from his chest. Natalia's chest clenched with longing.

Those were bad news.

💙❤️

Natalia wished she could say had been responsible and ended the thing with Pedri, but before she realised, she was hanging out with him more often than not, texting at odd hours in the day, frowning at the odd gen z humour and memes he sent, trying to find the punchline; pet-sitting the cutest puppy in the world when Pedri was away for games, which meant he had to go to her house whenever he got back.

Pedri had a bright smile on his face everytime they met.

Natalia was at home, drafting the new menu for her restaurants, when Pedri showed up, Nilo in tow, and a bouquet of flowers on his hand.

"Buenas..." He grinned, giving her a peck. Natalia's heart clenched. It was undeniable that she had fallen for the boy, that all the precautions had not stopped him from taking a place on her life.

It was a dangerous game. Pedri was young, had a lot to learn and to explore. It was naive to think that he would want to settle down. And then there was the thing with his job. Natalia was mature enough to not let stereotypes cloud her judgement, but she also knew better than to fully trust a footballer to remain 100% loyal.

At least for the time being, when they had not specified anything in their relationship.

Or well, they hadn't. The flowers on Pedri's hand were suspicious as hell.

"Hi, baby," Natalia distracted herself by greeting Nilo, who's seemed to be happy to meet her wagging his tail and lolling his pink tongue.

When she looked up to Pedri, he had a tender expression on his face.

"Would you like to come to my next game?" He blurted. Natalia's breath catched on her throat.

"When is that game?" She asked, trying to make time, to organise her thoughts.

"Wednesday at nine. It's against Bayern..."

Champions fucking League.

The more Natalia delayed her response, the more Pedri's face contorted into a pained expression.

"It's okay if you can't or don't want to..." his tone was broken, Natalia gulped, swallowing all of her fears and insecurity. She could freak out later.

"I would love to," she admitted, and there was no lie on her mouth. Pedri's face broke into a grin.

💙❤️

Natalia managed to hide all her doubts until the moment she put a foot in Montjuic. She walked up the stairs, searching for her seat, among all the families. She found it next to a blonde, beautiful woman close to her age.

Natalia knew her. Anna Lewandowska and her family had gone to her restaurant a couple of times before, and she could tell that Anna recognised her too.

"Hey!" she greeted in accented Spanish. "What a nice surprise!"

Natalia replied with the same enthusiasm, anxiety crawling through her stomach.

"Who are you coming for?" The question she was dreading finally came. This part of the stands was reserved to family and friends, to be here, Natalia had to be invited.

"For Pedri," she said, loud enough to be heard. The smile froze on Anna's face. By the corner of her eye, she could see other women taking a pause. Natalia knew what all of them were thinking. What she thought herself.

Too old for Pedri.

"That's... wonderful," grinned Anna, trying to remain polite. Before Natalia could think of something, Fer slipped on the seat next to her, an arm dropping over her shoulders.

"Damn, I never thought my brother would finally find the balls to invite you," he said. When Natalia turned to look at him, he was smiling. There was no trace of judgement on his face. "Mami has been dying to meet you properly, you better come for dinner with us after."

The knot on Natalia's chest cam undone, the feeling of acceptance flooding her veins.

Oh. Oh.

Pedri's parents arrived a bit later. When they spotted her with their son, they lit up to the point that Natalia almost teared up.

💙❤️

Pedri rushed to them with flushed cheeks, an huge smile on his face, blabbering about the 4-1 victory and something about Tom Hiddleston wanting to talk.

Natalia could not hide the smile on her face, watching him talk and hug all his family like an overexcited ball of fluff. When he stopped in front of her, he kissed her. It was short and soft, but Pedri was smiling so brightly Natalia could only mirror him.

"You were wonderful," she told him. It was true. She had gasped as the crowd chanted his name, the same name engraved on her heart.

"Thank you."

"Pedri," called his father. "Don't you have a proper presentation to do?"

Natalia watched the boy flush.

"Can I introduce you as my girlfriend?" He asked, holding his breath waiting for the answer. "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Natalia took a deep breath. It was a bad idea. It was not socially acceptable. But she could not think about any of that as he looked at her, waiting.

"Yes," she accepted, before she could regret it.

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

If you enjoy what I do, please consider donating to my Ko-fi :) Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Everyone has their favorite cousin; for you, it's Sabrina.

A year younger than you, she shines brighter than any star. Whenever Aunt came to visit, the two of you would escape to worlds of your own creation.

In the comfort of your childhood backyard, two pink napkins were laid out, creating the perfect setting for a whimsical tea party. Cookies and toy cups waited on the makeshift tables. She would always wear her little crown that she never forgot to bring, and you would eagerly gather your beloved stuffed animals to join the celebration as additional guests.

Born to a single teenage mother—who, in Mother's eyes, was the height of irresponsibility, “unfit” for motherhood—Sabrina was forever shrouded in your mother's harsh judgment that "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." That she would follow in her mother's footsteps, and it wouldn't be so surprising.

But Sabrina was far from the “troubled child,” grew into a girl warmer than the summer sun, kinder than the gentle grace of spring.

Sabrina was your favorite cousin, the one you wished could maintain the kind of closeness you shared during your youth. However, just as everything good in your life, fate always had a way of destroying it.

When Sabrina’s mother married a kind, steady man after years, it was as if a switch flipped inside Mother. Gone was any goodness she had shown to her sister and Sabrina. Any invitation from Sabrina’s mom was met with excuses—"we were too busy,” “it wasn’t a good time.” Lies, more lies. The real reason was far more simple: it was the bitter, green-eyed jealousy.

Mother always did crave pity and attention from others. But the pity she received from family after Father left wasn’t the kind she wanted.

It symbolizes her failure—now, a single mother struggling when her sister thrived with her loving husband and another baby on the way. And when Sabrina’s stepfather agreed to pay for Sabrina to start taking ballet classes like you, Mother took it as competition.

She had made ballet your personal hell.

While Mother brags about your ballet success, flaunting ribbons and reviews, her pride has a price behind closed doors. Nothing is enough to satisfy her, and the standards she holds for you reach for the impossible. Every competition is followed by a barrage of criticism—you could have placed higher, pointed your toes more.

Third place? "You’re wasting my money, girl." Second place earns you a dismissive "Second only means you’re second best." Even first place yields her saying, "Don’t get a big head over a stupid ribbon. It doesn't mean you're the best; it just means everyone else was worse."

Just as everything is good in your life, fate always has a way of destroying it.

(Or is it your mother?)

The old, naïve part of your mind argues that she's doing this for your own good. After all, diamonds aren’t made without pressure—a familiar refrain she repeats every time you beg her to stop, every time you sob so intensely that you struggle to breathe, feeling like a sacrificial lamb. And every time, she just watches in detached observation, with the slight upturn of her lips like a scientist admiring the results of her own making. Like a woodcarver appreciating the strokes of her knife.

Like a mother to her daughter.

(Because she's my mother, she should want the best for me, right?)

And that old, naïve part of your brain is still alive, apparently, even after you’ve left home and settled miles away. She's your mother; she must have your best interests at heart, even though the harshest words often come from her mouth.

She only has your future in mind, even if sometimes you wonder if she loves you at all.

The subtle thump of the car against the window jolted you out of your memories, and you opened your heavy eyelids, groggily regaining your bearings. You wiped your dry lips, relieved no drool dripping your chin in your nap. Looking out the window, you could see the trees whizzing by. Beside you, Simon's eyes fixed intently on the empty, straight road ahead.

At first, you had firmly convinced yourself that you wouldn't attend Sabrina's wedding, giving Simon excuses of work obligations and other lies to justify your absence. Then, Henri happens: he decreed the entire week mandatory rest for all dancers—prompted by the high stress level, but it's likely a more... specific case of frustration that pushed him over the edge: a certain ballerina who still danced her Black Swan coda like a flailing, drunken mess.

Finding yourself with an open schedule due to the unexpected break, emptiness now filled your time, leaving ample room for unwanted negative feelings—specifically, guilt. You end up reconsidering everything, even taking a Barbie out of your worn cardboard box from the closet. The doll bore the results of your and Sabrina's "artistic" minds, its hair chopped off and skin adorned with Sharpie tattoos. He responds to the doll's rough state with a sarcastic compliment.

That’s how you ended up on a short road trip with Simon. The man’s long leg stepped on the accelerator as the car continued to speed through the English countryside. Glancing up, the tiny skeleton charm swung gently where it hung, its hollow sockets seeming to stare back at you.

“Are we almost there?” you asked Simon.

At your question, he turns to you, eyes lingering for a moment before redirecting his focus on the road. “Reckon another five minutes, and we’ll be pulling up.” 

You look out the window. More trees; the dense forest seems to go on forever. Finally, a break appears, and up ahead looms the sturdy building you assume is the venue listed on the wedding invitation.

It was a manor, with solid brown brick walls and a three-story structure topped by a roof spanning each wing. Double-paneled doors were flanked by columns and arched windows. All around, emerald grass was cut to perfection, not a single blade out of place. In the center stood a two-tiered fountain, adorned with carvings of little angels spouting water into a circular pool. It was a heartwarming, romantic storybook vision.

Tearing your eyes from the scene, you glance over at Simon in amazement. “You certainly seem to know your way without GPS.” You comment.

He gave a noncommittal grunt, one-handedly turning the steering wheel as he maneuvered the car into an open spot behind a row of others. “Got a good sense o' direction, is all.”

As the rumble of the engine fell silent, you unbuckled your seatbelt but lingered in your seat, not quite ready to exit the safety of the vehicle. Through the window, you searched for distractions to ignore the uneasy flips in your stomach.

Simon reached out to reach the dashboard; you moved back slightly to give him more room. He grabbed for his plain black surgical mask, but your curious gaze landed on something else. A pair of black gloves—each finger had a contrasting white skeleton bone. You leaned in without thinking, drawing them out to inspect closely.

“I see you have a thing for skeleton.”

Simon glanced sideways at you as he hooked his mask over his ears. “Keep things interestin’,” he said lightly, voice muffled by the material. He pressed the wire along the bridge to mold it to the shape of his nose.

Pulling his keys from the ignition switch, he pocketed them with a jingle. Simon pushed open the door and stepped out in one smooth movement. He rounded the front of the car, walking to reach for your door. Pulling the handle to assist your exit, you took a deep breath before accepting his offer and slipping out of the vehicle.

A loud gasp pierced the air, followed by rapid footsteps rushing towards you. You turned your head from the sound of your name being called, finding a familiar face staring back at you. Sabrina. Now, a grown woman, changed from the girl you once knew. She stretched out her arms as she pulled you into a tight hug, blonde curls bouncing with her joyful smile.

“You came!” She cried happily, pulling back to look at you. “I’m so glad you made it!”

You returned her smile, your nerves melting away from her presence alone—the magic Sabrina had on everyone. “I wouldn’t miss your big day,” you told her.

She swept her eyes over you from head to toe appraisingly. “And look at you! So beautiful!” she said, and you were sure it was just the dress you had bought two days ago doing its job.

Sabrina shifted her gaze, and you remembered the companion standing patiently beside you. Her eyes swept over him assessingly, mixed with curiosity and wariness. Same old Sabrina. She glances at you briefly, and you know an introduction is in order.

Drawing a breath, you begin, “Sabrina, this is Simon. He, uh…” Your voice faltered, unsure of what label to use to describe him.

Simon reached out with nonchalant confidence to Sabrina. “Pleasure.”

With a hint of skepticism, Sabrina's lips tested the unfamiliar name, "Simon." Her face contorted as if it tasted bitter. She narrowed her eyes as she noted, “Funny, she has never mentioned you before.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and a chill ran down your spine as you replied, “There just… hasn’t been a good time to bring it up.”

You hoped that your explanation would be enough to divert the attention away from Simon, but it seemed futile. Sabrina was infamous for her stubbornness and overly protective nature, especially when it came to those she cared about. Like a tigress, she fixated a calculating gaze on him, as if preparing to pummel him on the spot if he gave her the slightest reason.

“Right,” she mumbled.

Sabrina made a show of dropping the conversation but felt compelled to ask one more question. “Any particular reason for the mask?” Her tone was sharper now, as if daring Simon to answer her.

Hastily, you jumped in. “He’s just feeling under the weather, doesn’t want to spread his cold.” It was a stupid lie, and you knew it, but Sabrina tilted her head in faux consideration.

“How thoughtful.” She commented, suspicion lingering at the edges. Hardening her eyes once more, she gave Simon a subtle threat. “You better take good care of this one.”

“Always.” Simon replied, calm and sure.

Satisfied, Sabrina’s expression switched like flickering sunlight. Clapping her hands in excitement, she announced, “Alright, time to meet Andrew and the others! And I’ll show you to your room!”

With that, she spun on her heels and marched toward the door, her long skirt swirling. Simon and you followed after her at a more sedate pace. Your heart rate slowed in relief that the confrontation was over.

Glancing at Simon, you grimaced, muttering a hushed “Sorry about her.”

Simon says nothing, depriving you of the answer, and you thought this was his way of punishing you for the excessive protectiveness of your cousin. He had driven a considerable distance to accompany you to a wedding of someone he didn’t even know, only to be met with suspicion and unwarranted scrutiny by Sabrina, then tasked with the responsibility of "taking care" of you, despite not even being your boyfriend.

However, in stark contrast to your feelings, Simon seemed to brush off the situation with nonchalance. The slight lift of his black mask and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes clearly indicated a smile hidden beneath it. There was no offense taken.

As you emerged outside the back of the manor, bright sunlight made you blink to adjust. When your blurry eyes cleared, a beautiful scene was laid out before you.

In the wide green field stood a picturesque wedding arch, still bare of the decorations that would soon adorn it. Nearby, tables draped in crisp white linens were set where groups mingled, laughing. Some were busy gossiping and enjoying the buffet; some were occupied in a croquet match.

Sabrina chuckled beside you. “They’re trying to recreate a Bridgerton scene but clearly failing miserably.” At her comment, you smiled too, admiring the carefree warmth pervading the atmosphere.

Gesturing wide, Sabrina said, “Help yourself to the buffet over there, and tea or coffee if you’d like. Oh, and this is Andrew, my fiancé!”

A tall, handsome man approached and pressed a kiss to Sabrina’s cheek. She bloomed with a rosy blush as she beamed up at him. “Babe, this is (Y/N) – you know, the cousin I’ve always told you about, my sister from another mother!” She gushed.

Her sweet description of you stirred a smile in your heart. You turned to Andrew, accepting his handshake. “It's wonderful to meet you. Sabrina talks about you all the time,” he says.

“And this is Simon. He came with (Y/N).”

Andrew reached out to offer a new handshake with Simon. “We're glad to have you both. Please, make yourselves at home.”

Giving a nod, Simon took his hand. “Appreciate the welcome, mate.” He replied.

“Oh my God!”

A high-pitched, sharp voice pierces the air, shattering the calm. Your head pivots, and you see your aunt making her way towards you, her arms stretched out in a gesture much like how Sabrina had welcomed you earlier. The embrace she gives you is as warm and smothering as you remember. Drawing back, she sweeps her teary eyes over you. “Look at you! You’ve grown into such a beauty!”

"Definitely," Sabrina chimes in, seconding her mother.

“It’s lovely to see you too, Auntie Joyce.” You replied, smiling at her.

Joyce pinched your cheek lightly before directing her attention past you, eyes widening in surprise. “And who is this?” she asked, gaze landing on Simon with curiosity. Before you could introduce him, she gasped even louder and glared at you as if she had just realized something big. “Why, he must be your boyfriend!”

Your heart leapt at your aunt's bold insinuation. Joyce didn't bother waiting for your confirmation before enveloping Simon in a tight hug. His shoulders tensed, and he looked confused—his hands hovering awkwardly, unsure of how to reciprocate.

Luckily, the ordeal wasn't prolonged, and your aunt finally retreated, not forgetting, of course, to give his bicep an extra appreciative squeeze. 

“Oh,” she chuckled, “you're quite the fit one, aren't you?”

“Mom, please!” Sabrina groaned, shaking her head at her mother’s antics.

Joyce dismissed her daughter's protests with a playful wave of her hand, saying, "Oh, come now, relax! It's a wedding, not a funeral." She positioned herself between you and Simon, slipping her arms through each of yours to guide you both forward.

“Just look at this place,” Joyce continued, her voice filled with admiration. “Isn’t it stunning? Sabrina had such brilliant ideas, she has a real eye for these things. Just wanted everything perfect for her and Andrew, they deserve the best.”

The older woman stopped in her tracks. She turned to the two of you, looking at you both in turn, hazel eyes filled with sincerity. Grasping each of your hands in hers, she hosted a warm, meaningful smile on her face.

“Mark my words, it’ll be your turn before you know it.”

The well-intentioned tone in your aunt's words was apparent. Auntie Joyce had always been sentimental, wearing her heart on her sleeve and never hesitating to express her thoughts. Yet you couldn't help but think that now, her words seemed misplaced—directed at the wrong people. After all, you and Simon weren't even dating, but rather just two people seeking each other's benefits and comfort. The concept of love seemed incredibly distant, and her trying to cling it to you felt like staining purity with sin.

Instead of imagining your own wedding, you feel panic building in your fingertips. You can hear your heartbeat—the ringing in your ears.

What does Simon think of the implications? He’s only here to accompany you, to make the anxiety easier to handle. But now, it’s as if you’ve brought him here for another purpose—a scheming opportunist trying to trap him with suggestions of commitment he’s never agreed to.

Before your thoughts could spiral further, a voice cuts through the chatter—an awfully familiar one, sending your body into instant shock.

“Joyce, where did you run off to?” It called out, tone softer, but your brain is only capable of recalling the rougher version of it.

Joyce waved at the newcomer, ushering her over. “Your daughter’s here with her boyfriend! Can you believe it? Why didn’t you say?”

Boyfriend. She had said it.

In that moment, horror washed over you. Your pulse quickened, racing like a frightened animal. Palms grew slick with perspiration. The world seems tilting off its axis. Something very sour stirred in your stomach, almost triggering you to retch onto the lush, green grass.

Then came the chuckle, low and mocking—and you're already aware of the person who now stands before you.

Slowly, you lift your gaze to meet the eyes so reminiscent of your own, settled in a face that still bears resemblance to the features you’ve inherited from her. She looks the same as the last time you saw her in San Francisco, except for the absence of anger, now replaced by a smile that graces her red lipsticked lips. It's a familiar expression, the exact one she uses whenever she detects hints of your defiance.

(The ghost haunting my dreams, the monster under the bed.)

The woman who had drilled into you time and again: A man’s heart is truly a wretched, wretched thing! Her vengeance against Dad had warped her into keeping the wound wet and bleeding so that it would not have time to heal, so neither of you forgot.

And here you are, betraying everything she had taught you by daring to bring a man into her world. Something crawled up your throat—heavier this time. This wasn’t panic; this was guilt.

When she saw it written on your face—the shame of your transgression—her eyes gleamed with cruel triumph at catching you out.

Auntie Joyce’s question was almost forgotten, but she never forgot. You watched her lips part, and her gaze changed to the one she always wore when she was watching your every move. Ever the watchful one.

“There just hasn’t been an opportunity yet.” She replied smoothly.

In that moment, with her lie not much different from yours for Sabrina, you realized something – that for all the distance between you, mother and daughter were never truly separate. Her poison still coursed through your veins, flowing in every pump of your blood. Every one of your thoughts and actions was controlled by her, whether she was in front of you or not.

Just as everything is good in your life, fate always has a way of destroying it. No, you disagreed.

It was my mother.

@strawberrygato @aprosiacperson @chipsbuttercream @arrozyfrijoles23

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION. SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS HERE.

[kugikizuchi]

Hello everyone Yandere Ketnup may be coming soon, but in the meantime, guys, who among you loves Lord Shen from Kung Fu Panda? Personally, I adore this elegant bird!

and would you like to play yandere ,,it's your turn to die,, and Frank from,, Subway surf,, ?

Mini description: You are preparing the house for the holiday according to all the Chinese traditions of your beloved, Lord Shen, the heir of the peacock family. While you were busy preparing, you might not have noticed an important detail on the very eve of the explosion of colors.

Note: In this work, Shen is about 20 and the events take place before he makes a fatal discovery in fireworks, about their crushing power. You are his beloved from a neighboring clan, having concluded a rare love match at that time.

In this universe, all the animals from the cartoon are people!!

Your words are pink, but Lord Shen's are red!

Picking up another pair of bamboo sticks, neatly trimmed into a hand-pleasing shape with a slightly heavy shape, you alternately throw each piece into the flame of fire, which flares up right in front of you, chastising each element.

As if a miracle would happen after a certain number and you would see none other than the dragon warrior himself, whispering and revealing each of your opponents' secret attacks. Or, should I say, the opponents of your favorite?

The one you are waiting for, like a shooting star, sometimes glancing at the gates of the palace, believing that your proud novice emperor will return any minute and his kimono will flow behind him, casting majestic shadows on each of the walls, while the fire will warm both the bodies and the hearts of you, two ardently in love.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sultry voice of the servants, who escort the next guests to their rooms. After all, it's not appropriate not to hold a significant holiday for the whole people on the imperial estate. And in terms of status, everything should be at the highest level, starting from snacks and polite servants, ending with a solemn speech by the emperor of a grateful people who are ready to lay down their heads for the sake of their master. And again, the ringing of speeches and bells subsides, with enviable frequency, the raging laughter of too young people is heard, who cannot wait to renounce their elders, having freedom, listening to the instructions of the elderly, who are respectfully led to the best rooms, assuring eternally dissatisfied ladies in old age that the caskets storing their expensive jewelry are fully made of marble, even a seal in the form of a peacock with a flowing majestic tail, which, for a second, cost no small effort, you knew this firsthand, making your own box one evening with Shen at your request, having something single, entirely made by you.

Another clap and the children burst out laughing while they are pampered by skilled babysitters, and you sigh, preparing to throw another stick into the bright burning ribbons of the elements, but a surprised sigh remains on your lips unvoiced when you notice that the last reed is not at all in your palm. Examining the kimono in search of what is missing, you start in surprise when right next to your head, behind your back, someone throws the last bamboo into a place that begins to warm up so that it becomes difficult to breathe, because without even turning around, you feel the warm embrace of a young man on your shoulders and a chaste kiss in your hair.

-Was it the eighth?

The owner of white curls at the waist, gathered in a tight ponytail tied with a scarlet ribbon, asks while someone else's hands cross over your collarbones, hugging your fragile body in a peculiar way, having only a small access to your temple, but even so having the opportunity to enjoy you to the fullest.

- That's right. - You say with a smile, turning your bright face not only from the energy of danger that your old generations tamed, but also from the blessing, because your beloved was with you, surrounded by servants or advisers, without parents, whom you were glad to see, but you wanted a quieter, intimately untouched and gentle environment. with the red-eyed one.

Without getting lost in your feelings, you turn to the heir, hugging him by the torso, while warm, despite the frosty time, your hands caress your waist, slightly crumpling the fabric of the bright robe, allowing yourself a misunderstanding in the company of important people, but such a native gesture for your beloved - squeezes the girl's figure more tightly, despite the inaccessibility of the character It gives you a hot, albeit with a hint of innocence, kiss on your cracked lips.

Only short moments lasted as long as you needed, but they melted before your eyes like snowflakes in your warm palms, although now they settled on your hair and clothes. When suddenly you were interrupted not by the sharp laughter of a crowd of celebrants, but by the roar of fireworks explosions, so that you had to pull away from each other just a little to see the colors of this dark blue sky.

While your rapt gaze was directed at the firmament, you still caught that languid intensity of Shen, but before you could say a word, he was ahead of you.

- My dear, come to my chambers, you should not worry your health before the holiday.

And with that, you walked away from Sama. But you saw that gleam in the eyes of a member of a noble family, and it was far from the brilliance of the colorful flashes of gunpowder and paint. Once again, red lanterns accompany you, protecting you from evil spirits according to the ancient beliefs of your ancestors.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

“I mean, you’ve got to feel a little sorry for them really haven’t you?” Jaskier said from where he was mopping up the last of the evidence of the half dead rat Roach had thoughtfully decided to gift them (the first time it happened he’d shrieked in surprise before Geralt put it out of its misery with a matter of fact “Welcome to country living, city boy”). Geralt gave a non committal hum from where he was warming milk up for Ciri on the stove. The little girl sat colouring at the large kitchen table - too large for two, but that would change when Geralt’s brothers and any guests they decided to bring descended on them.

“I mean they’re just minding their own business like, Oh I’m a hungry rat. Please don’t kill me.” Here Jaskier put on a slightly squeaky voice and held up his hands in imitation of paws, still holding onto the mop, “And then wham one of the last things they see is Roach’s teeth coming towards them. So many teeth.” He gave the resident farm cat a critical stare and received a dismissive tail flick in response.

Ciri giggled at his antics which caused him to grin back at her in return. It always felt like a special sort of personal victory when he managed to coax a laugh out of the little girl.

Despite being together for six months, he was still being introduced to her as her father’s ‘friend’ (which was true enough, they wouldn’t be dating if they didn’t get along) and Jaskier was happy to go along with it. Geralt had explained without revealing too much that the little one had been let down by too many adults in her life already, himself included, and ‘boyfriend’ was maybe just a little too official sounding for the time being (and if he said his heart hadn’t broken a little for the five year old smiling at him from Geralt’s phone, he’d by lying), especially after the shit that had gone down with his ex. Geralt hadn’t gone into detail but from what Jaskier had gathered, the woman had had a hidden agenda in wanting to get back with Geralt and Ciri had almost gotten seriously hurt as a result. Geralt had blamed himself for jumping back into the relationship too quickly and so, any potential partners now had to pass what Jaskier had dubbed ‘The Ciri test’.  

He liked to think he’d passed the first portion with flying colours, the tiny blonde seeming perfectly comfortable with him in public places. Now they were dipping their toes into Jaskier staying in their home for longer periods, with Jaskier having graduated from the guest bedroom to sharing with Geralt the previous visit (the brunette wanting the ground to swallow him up when she happily informed her Uncle Eskel of ‘Daddy’s sleepover’ when the man had dropped by unexpectedly the following morning. Geralt had just shrugged and told him to be thankful it hadn’t been Lambert; who could and would, happily take the piss forever).

“Alright Ciri, put your things away and then go get your bedtime book. I’ll be in in a minute.” Geralt said, pouring the warm milk into a plastic My Little Pony cup.

“I want Jask.” Ciri declared form where she was trying to force the crayons back into their box by the (relatively small) handful, Causing both adults to stop what they’d been doing and stare at one another. This was new.

“You sure you don’t want daddy?” Jaskier asked, looking to Geralt for some sign as to what he should do.

“You do better funny voices. Daddy’s all sound the same.”

It took everything Jaskier had not to burst out laughing at that as he took in the minute eye twitch from the other man at that statement, “Geralt?”

Geralt nodded, “Mind if I stay and listen? You know how much I love The Gruffalo.”

Jaskier snorted and felt a surge of fondness. The lies we tell for our children.

It ended up being a joint effort, with Geralt guest starring as The Gruffalo “On account of you being so, well...gruff.” and admitting to a slightly too smug looking Jaskier and a mostly asleep Ciri that “Yes, Jaskier does better voices for everyone else. Especially Mouse.”

"Everything ok? You’ve gone all quiet on me.” Jaskier said from where he had his head in Geralt’s lap as they watched some mindless Netflix show. “I didn’t overstep did I?” He was suddenly frantic, his anxieties bubbling back up to the surface now that he didn’t have a performance and an audience to focus on, “I know you probably just said yes so things wouldn’t be awkward. I probably should have told her no and come up with an excuse but how can anybody say no to that face-“

“Jaskier. It’s fine, honestly.” Geralt said, rubbing his hands up and down Jaskier’s arm in a way he knew calmed him, “I’ve built up something of an immunity to Ciri’s puppy eyes. I would’ve said no if I had a problem with it. I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“About how I might have a question for Ciri.”

The next morning saw Jaskier seeing both of them off with a hug (also accompanied by fishing a stray cheerio out of Ciri’s hair which he had been too tired to question) before heading back to his city apartment and his job as a music tutor.

“Ciri?” Geralt asked, putting her school backpack by the door as he knelt down to help her button up her coat, “You know how Aiden is Uncle Lambert’s boyfriend?"

It had slowly been killing Jaskier not to check his phone as soon as the text notification came through but he was nothing if not professional and he would not check his phone when he was in the middle of a lesson. Thank the Gods he did wait as he was prettu sure he gave his retreating student a minor heart attack with the squeal he let out at Geralt’s message:

‘Ciri has been proudly announcing to her classmates this morning that Jaskier is her daddy’s boyfriend. Much disappointment from the single mums.’

[katstarry]

city of stars

rockstar!eddie munson x actress!reader

masterlist ☆

summary: eddie and you see each other at an awards ceremony, years after your break up.

warnings: angst? bittersweet? fluff? how the breakup happened can be up to you!

inspired by the movie la la land :) the upside down does not exist here! i also have no clue how this industry works, so sorry if something isn’t right or doesn’t make sense lol and i wrote this at 3am! sorry for any mistakes.

the lights were blinding as he steps out of the expensive car. it’s surreal, the cameras begin to flash as he walks to the crimson carpet, his date by his side.

his partner was nominated for an awards that night, hence why he’s attending the ceremony. they’re both ushered to walk to the center of the carpet for photos. he positions his hand onto his dates waist and smirks to the cameras, instinctively posing.

the cameramen shout their names for their attention, choruses of “eddie! eddie! over here!” and “beautiful couple! amazing!” as they walk off the carpet, onto the interviews. they ask his date the standard questions, “what’re you wearing tonight?”, “i see you’ve brought yourself a date!”, “see you’ve both been going strong!”

he smiles as he lingers behind, answering when he needed to. having previously too busy with tours and recordings, he didn’t have a proper chance to attend a ceremony like this with his current girlfriend. it’s been nearly a year since they’ve both been official, and he thinks that she might be the one.

as they both take their seats where the event will take place, he takes everything in.

looking around himself, he takes a deep breath, allowing his mind to wander.

he really made it.

thinking back, it’s been nearly 6 years since he left his hometown of hawkins, indiana to move to the chaos of california.

he wonders how everyone is, his old friends, what the small town is like now. what do they think of him now?

he wonders how you are. he’s heard your name before, in newspapers, in magazines. so he has an inkling that you’re doing amazing, doing everything you’ve ever dreamed of. could you even be here, tonight? he didn’t even know who else was nominated besides his girlfriend.

he looks around the dimly lit room, for a sign, a possibility, just out of curiosity. but he sees no familiar faces of his past.

you’re running late, which has rarely ever happened. you just so happened to have a wardrobe malfunction, a strap of your dress having snapped. luckily, your team fixed it right up, but it pushed the schedule behind.

which brought you to your current dilemma, being stuck in traffic.

robin, who you’ve brought as your plus one, sits by your side.

“oh god, we’re gonna be so late! we’re gonna walk in there while the ceremony has already begun and everyone’s going to know that we’re late! hopefully we don’t walk in when someone’s giving their speech-“

“robin!” you interject her rambling, smiling in amusement, “it’s going to be okay! i’m nervous too, i absolutely hate being late. but we won’t be that late! we’ll most likely get there just as it’s starting.”

she lets out a dramatic sigh as she leans her head back onto the headrest, before sitting up straight, not wanting to mess up her appearance.

“okay, okay. you’re right. it’s gonna be okay.”

you both enjoy the ride as music plays and waste the time talking, then before you know it, you arrive.

getting out the car with robin right behind you, camera’s flash. a sign that you’re in fact, not that late. you smile and walk to the carpet, a routine you’re now used to, but never get tired of. it’s a reminder, that this is what you’ve worked so hard for.

pictures are taken, you pull robin with you for them, she was standing by wanting for you to have your ‘moment’.

both walking off the carpet and semi-speed walking to your seats, you both have big smiles on your faces. the room is dimly lit as you’re both led to your assigned seats for the night, usually you say hello to the other guests, but the night took a turn of events, and you had no time.

it was a big night, the biggest so far for your career as an actress. you were nominated, for one of the biggest awards that night, best leading actress. you were beyond ecstatic from the moment you got the news.

it was a moment of realization, a moment of pure joy.

you met eddie in summer of 1985, after you graduated. you worked at star court mall in a small video store in order to save up money for college.

he had walked in, looking for a star wars movie. which led to a long conversation about star wars.

and the rest was history.

the friendship blossomed into shy glances and flirty comments until eventually, eddie had gotten the courage (after encouragement from his friend and uncle), to ask you out on a proper date. friends to now lovers, you were both inseparable. you helped him with graduating the following year, even attended his graduation. you were his biggest cheerleader.

he’d remember you as long as he lived. you, his first true love. his first example of an unconditional and healthy romantic love.

he’ll never forget your support, the way you encouraged him to keep going to his gigs at the hideout when he would feel like there would be no chance, you sitting at the bar, smiling up at him as he sang and played his guitar. it have him hope, he gained his confidence.

for you, the feeling was mutual. eddie, who would attend every one of your shows, no matter how big or small your role was.

the relationship had lasted four years, the year was now 1989.

1989, the year that eddie was offered his dream.

the hideout had began to gain more clients and corroded coffin began to gain more fans, steadily, they were making progress.

one night had changed everything. the band was approached by a man who claimed to be a part of a record label and had taken an interest in them and gave them his information for when they had made up that night, you were there right beside them.

as the man walked away and out the building, the band erupted into pure happiness, shouts of joy, hugs, faces of shock and in awe.

eddie turned to you, a big grin adorned his face as he embraced you and picked you up, wrapping your arms around his neck, he gave you both a twirl.

“oh my god! eddie! this is amazing!?” you smiled up at him as he placed you back on your feet, his arms still wrapped around your waist, yours now placed onto his shoudlers.

“i still can’t believe that was real, that was real right? that just happened?” he couldn’t contain his joy, “i mean i must be dreaming. there’s an angel looking at me right now.”

you blush, “oh shut up,” you lean up and give him a kiss, “you’re going to say yes, right?”

he looks at his friends over his shoulder, who heard you and look over in anticipation.

eddie looks back at you, “hell yeah we are!”

from the moment the band agreed upon the proposal made to them, the changes came quick.

the label wanted demos for songs that they’ve played at the hideout, which led to them having to travel.

“california?”

“yeah, it’s a long way from here.”

you sit with your legs crossed and pulled up onto the couch and look at eddie, who’s sitting beside you. you’re at his trailer that he shares with his uncle wayne.

he looks at you with anticipation and bites his lips, “do you think i should go?”

“me? eddie, this is entirely up to you. but if you want my opinion, i think that you should definitely go. this is an opportunity of a lifetime! it’s your dream.” you smile at him as you grab his hands, softly squeezing.

he smiles at you, “i jus’ don’t want to be so far from you. i’ve never even been far from home, really. it’s all too fast.”

tears well up in his eyes, causing your own to do the same.

“hey.. i’m always gonna be rooting for you, baby. who knows where this’ll take us? it’s a big change, sure. but we’ll be okay. don’t let me or anyone else stop you from doing this.”

you’re both crying now, it feels different.

“i wish you could come with me.”

you place yourself onto his lap, embracing him as he wraps his arms around your waist. resting your forehead onto his own, tears streaming down both your faces.

“i wish i could too, but i’ll be too busy with college.”

you’d decided to finally attend college, having saved up enough money to afford it. you wanted to continue studying acting, get better at it.

“and when i’m done with that, we can be the iconic couple.”

you both let out teary laughs, “we’ll be okay.”

the ceremony continued on, and finally, the moment comes.

the anticipation of waiting. the nominees for best leading actress being named and some jokes being made, it was exhilarating. beside you, robin takes a hold of your hand, both filled with nervousness.

the feeling was indescribable, the moment that your name was called.

it felt as if you were walking on air, the room was filled with applause, just as it had been throughout the night. but this time it was for you.

you won!

you stood and robin hugged you tightly, you didn’t know how to react as you hugged her back. walking to the stage was the craziest thing you’ve ever done, people shook your hand, congratulating you. some were people you looked up to, people you admired.

going up the steps, you greet the people on stage and accept your award. looking out into the crowd, you meet robin’s gaze, whose already smiling right back at you with tears in her eyes.

feeling your own fill with tears, you walk to the microphone to give your speech.

you open your mouth, and words momentarily fail you.

“wow.” you laugh, “this- this is something that i truly never would’ve thought i would receive. and to be here,” you look at the award in your hands and back up to the crowd, “with you all, is so crazy!”

“i want to thank everybody who has helped me make this dream come true.” you take a small moment to gain your composure, that moment, was when you saw him.

“wow.” you couldn’t believe he was there. the room laughs, thinking your reaction was from the award, not from seeing your past lover.

“i want to congratulate the other nominees, who i admire and am in awe of all that you do. and i want to thank my team, my friends, my family, my fans!”

you look over at eddie once again in the crowd, smiling with tears in both your eyes. it’s like deja vu.

“thank you, for everything.” the sincerity in your voice must be heard by everyone, since the room begins to applaud once again and you’re guided off the stage.

you meant the last part to be directed towards him.

and he knows, because he’ll always know you.

[sirensoul-min]

Why does Jimin literally always get the least opportunities when he has the most supporters in this fandom? I’m thinking he did something Scooter didn’t like or didn’t want to do something weird for him to not be supporting Jimin when he knows it would be his best business move. Yoongi got a solo show on YouTube with tons of famous Korean celebrities being guests and got his own global solo tour?? Namjoon got a decent amount of collabs and his own movie that won an award at a film festival. Teahyung got his travel show with his friends who literally nobody knows or cares about. I guess he’s now kind of even since Jikook got their travel show too. Hoseok did Lollapalooza and got more collabs this time around. Jin is having an entire Run show by himself and just being allowed to do whatever. And he’s about to do a solo tour as well? For fucking what? Jungkook was supposed to be the breakout star and he got all the opportunities and still basically tied with Jimin who’s had the least opportunities. None of the above mentioned, no solo tours or shows, a few collabs and the shortest promotions ever. Taehyung and Namjoon have strong fan bases but all their fans ever do is rave about Taheyungs looks and Namjoons brains and they never really support their music, that’s why it charts so badly. Their fans know this too. I was surprised Yoongi’s tour did so well. Nobody’s really talking about Hoseok or Jin like that, their music or otherwise. I’m so confused why Jin is getting a tour but we’ll see. Jungkook’s music is very generic pop with no real message, Jimin’s is deep and you can tell he wrote a lot of it himself and it means a lot to him. Jungkook is trying to break into the western pop scene doing the same thing everyone else is doing when there’s no need for it now, so it gives average results. I’m kind of confused on whats next for the group. What kind of music they’ll make when they return and how the dynamics have shifted. Of course they’ll all still be close friends, but how close? A lot of them haven’t seen each other in a while and I’m sure there will be a little bitterness and jealousy towards the members who did the best. It kind of reminds me of how blackpinks fandom is doing rn, even though they went on hiatus for no real reason. Jisoo isn’t interested in the western market at all and the other 3 are fighting for that #1 spot. I can see why Jennie and Taehyung have been spotted together. They’re so similar, just pretty faces hyped up by a fandom and not enough talent to back it up. They can’t really do much on stage and don’t have a ton of energy, they’re so similar. All I know is BTS will blow these 4th and 5th gens out of the water. There’s way too many groups in kpop right now who all have the same concept, dress, act and look the same. This was bound to happen.

truer words have never been spoken, anon. this is our collective frustration. we have witnessed and been witnessing how jimin was being tossed aside, minimized, and erased. other people try and will continue to gaslight us and refuse to call it as sabotage/mistreatment, but no matter how much they deny it, it's still happening. the subpar promo and media play exist. just because they ignore and refuse to acknowledge it, doesn't mean it's not there.

it's like a never-ending struggle; like there's no end in sight. it's depressing. that's why when i see pjms being cryptic (and hyped up) in x about future changes in jimin's career and possibly being free from HYBE as a soloist finally, it's a bittersweet feeling. on one hand, i am pessimistic and skeptic about it, but on the other hand, i try to be hopeful.

i feel like we're setting ourselves up, but damn, we also need hope; otherwise we'll end up miserable and dreading anything that comes out of jimin's future projects. we just need to be realistic and vigilant. i know, i know, it's easier said than done, but nothing lasts forever anyway. change is the only constant thing in life, so we might as well hold on and celebrate this journey with jimin as much as we can.

as per BTS' reunion, i'm sure they'll still do great, but idk if they'll have the same success as before. i have a lukewarm reaction and expectation to their reunion and instead more hyped for jimin's solo career. i'm not the only one feeling that, and no one can blame us if that's how we feel.

let's see what the future has in store for us.

[spaceorphan18]

Top 5 inappropriate places/situations Pen & Colin have sex because they just can’t keep it in their breeches.

You know. I blame you for being this unhinged.

****

Bridgerton House (Colin's old bedroom)

It's Gregory or Hyacinth's or someone's engagement party. And for the first time in ages, for nostalgic reasons, Colin ends up back in his old room. And Penelope follows him. And they have a chat that, for as long as she had known the family, she had never actually been in his room. And he ends up admitting about how he used to dream about her. And she wants to know what kind of dreams. And asks him to describe them to her. And she'll ask him if he used to touch himself thinking about her, because you know, they've been married for ten years now and she's bold like that. And then they get into what if they had figured their shit out at a younger age and end up fucking on the bed pretending to be virgins again.

****

Featherington House (Drawing Room)

Everyone else is preoccupied else where for the time being. Idk, maybe Phillipa is giving birth to her fourth child and Dankworth and Finch are babysitting outside, idk. Or... maybe this is at night and everyone is asleep? Anyway, she's sitting where she always used to sit, starring out the window, and Colin comes into the room and finds her just breathtaking. And Penelope admits she used to think about him just coming in and rescuing her from this house. She'd watch from the window, and watch him, and dream. And of course, those are the magic words because then they're making out on the couch, and Colin's doing all sorts of things with his hands. And they're not even afraid of someone finding them, but Colin insists they try to stay quiet so not to wake anyone else up. And Pen, again because she is bold, says he'll have to find ways to keep her mouth busy. And he does. And they fuck on the couch still mostly clothed. The next morning they're in giggles when Prudence drapes herself over the place they came the previous night.

****

The Library

The first public library in London opened in 1841. Yes, I looked it up. Yes, Pen and Colin would be in, like, their fifties. Yes, they fucked in it because books.

****

Somewhere in India (Anthony and Kate's House)

Pen and Colin travel a lot (and why yes, they try to make it a point to fuck in every new country they're in) but this time they're spending time at the Bridgerton-Sharma residence (as Anthony spends half his time in India now). And Colin decides to fuck Pen very loudly in the guest room because the previous night, Anthony and Kate were being obnoxiously loud themselves, and Colin can be competitive and he'll sure as hell prove he can make his wife scream louder.

****

A Carriage. Anywhere.

It's Pen's idea. Because we've already established she's bold like this. They're rich and have time and why not? And it starts out because Pen just has a thing for that pirate coat. And Colin let's slip one day that he has a thing for her LW hood. So Pen gets the idea that they should play pretend, and pretend to be strangers and he'll be in his old coat, and she'll have on her hood, and they'll be playful at whatever random event they're at and they'll end up in a carriage then fucking happens. All the fucking. In the carriage. All around London because they paid the driver to be discreet. And they don't even care who can hear them. Or if some passerby catches a glimpse. They don't care because they're too wrapped up in each other and being in love with each other to care at all. They do it to feel connection and love and safety and it's a little bit thrilling in a moving vehicle that's technically out in public in a society that would be so, so scandalized, but they don't fucking care. Because they have each other. And that's all that matters.

[hannahssimblr]

Night; the sun set on my last day in Amalfi. I’m having a cigarette on the balcony, and light from the bulbs strung across the overhang catches rising smoke. Headlights pull up outside, beams of yellow light slice through the black.

Chatter fills the air. Slamming doors. One, two, three. Ah. Okay. Fuck my life. Silvio, Suzana, Astrid, laughing together all the way up the path towards the villa. The merry sound of hours spent drinking. She spots me; her face tilted up towards the balcony, flooded by the soft glow of the bulbs. 

Seriously? I think. You’re bringing them here? We don’t speak. Not worth it, but Silvio does. A vast white grin. “Oh! Jude. Astrid said you were busy today.”

“Well, I was.”

“We are going to drink. Just hang out inside. Come and join.”

“Maybe in a while.”

“Cool, man. Cool.”

Yes. Cool. That’s me. Up here, sucking the butt end of a cigarette on a Friday night while everyone else is out enjoying themselves. Very cool is the state of my life. They go inside. I light another, then stay there for a while, chain smoking then, the stars in a slow rotation across the sky. 

“Jude! Come in, come in!” I have made the mistake of passing the living room door, wide open, on the way to get a drink from the kitchen. There they all are, a bottle of wine drained, another half empty on the coffee table, music playing from my portable speaker. The one I’ve been using in the background as I spend afternoons drawing in my sketchbooks. They’re on the table now. I imagine the three of them leafing through the pages and laughing at the sheer quantity of foliage studies. As if that’s funny. Wow, he draws a lot of trees, kind of thing. 

“I was just coming down to grab some water, to be honest.”

“Have wine. We have a glass.” Silvio, holding it up. “Feels wrong without you here, man.”

I go in and slump into an armchair, accepting reluctantly the glass thrust into my hands. I can barely look at Astrid next to Silvio on the couch. Can’t bring myself to, and wonder if it is palpable, the awkwardness between us, or if our guests are too drunk to notice. I move my things from the tabletop to the floor beneath. 

“What a place, man,” Silvio goes on. “I mean, this is nice, this is fancy. Who’s paying for this?”

“I am.” 

It is not my sofa, but I wish he wouldn’t sit on it like that, sprawled all over it, legs spread, and arms resting on the cushion behind Suzana, smug, possessive. Where are you, Jenny? I think. Look at this clown. My hand twitches towards my pocket, of half a mind to take a picture of him on my phone so I can prove he’s real when I bitch about him later. 

“You are paying?” He echoes. “You mean your rich daddy?”

“My father isn’t rich.”

“Astrid mentioned something…” Suzana says, and my girlfriend shakes her head. “I said Jude’s father is an orthodontist. Not that he is wealthy.”

“Well, there’s money in dentistry,” Silvio says, eyes sliding around the room, appraising the value of the details. “Some of that tooth shit is expensive.”

He would know. 

“Yeah, well, he’s not the type to pay for me to lie around an Italian villa for a week.”

“He’s selfish?”

I don’t answer. 

“Does it run in the family, selfishness?”

I glance at Astrid for clues about what he is talking about, but she’s staring into her glass. 

Silvio laughs then, loudly, and throws his head back over the couch. “You have such a serious face, man, did you know? Sometimes I am thinking you don’t know how to have fun.”

“Right.”

“I think he can,” says Suzana. “He’s just shy. I think he is adorable.”

He nudges Astrid. “What do you think about that? Do you agree? Your boyfriend is adorable?”

She sighs, a touch of impatience. “Well, yes, I suppose. You could describe him that way if you wished.”

“And what about Suzana, Jude?” He can’t give it a rest. Him all week, like, look at my girlfriend. What’s your opinion? Do you like that bikini? “She’s amazing. Sexy. Look at her in this dress. What do you think?”

I don’t answer, but don’t have to because, evidently overcome by his obsession with Suzana, Silvio leans in and kisses her. Full, open-mouthed, kissing tongues and all. No sound now in the room but their wet mouths and the beat of whatever hip-hop song they’ve queued up on the speaker. 

The correct reaction is unclear. Do I avert my eyes? Ask them to stop? I feel there isn’t any obvious social protocol for this. Do I look it up on the internet? Like, people are kissing on the sofa in front of me. What to do?

I drain my glass and place it on the table, deliberately clinking against the other glassware, on the off chance they have forgotten there are other people in the room. Astrid, face blank, thoughts indecipherable.

“Right, okay,” I say. And they keep kissing.

Silvio’s hand, resting now upon his knee, slides sideways and slowly across the sofa cushion and onto Astrid’s thigh. I stare at it, certain it isn’t happening. His hand, the artificial tan, hair on his knuckles, brazenly gripping my girlfriend’s leg, and her there, letting him do it.

Then I’m standing, a ringing in my ears, thumping in my chest. I’ve been extremely stupid. I’ve been stupid my whole life, and this is the culmination. God’s ultimate punishment. In my rush to leave, I tip a glass from the table, and red wine pools over the white rug. There’s an exclamation of concern for it; background noise as I clamber up the stairs.

Through darkened hallways and into the bedroom. Door shut behind me. My body is an explosion of feeling. Tingling hands and face. It’s that feeling I had on the sailboat, at the restaurant. Unruly and strange, but it is worse now than it was then. It’s unbearable. On my knees by the bed. I’m stupid, I’m stupid, I’m stupid. I think I want to go home. Or die. Whichever is less painful.

The screen of my phone is glaring, blue light in the dark bedroom. My call history. Mom. I should call my mom. That’s what a normal person would do, right? If he thought he was caught in a bad situation?  

The phone sits in my palm, the screen fading to black. And who am I? Who does that man think I am? Someone who would just let that happen? He’ll try to seduce my girlfriend right in front of me, there, while I am watching, and it will be okay? Except I left the room, of course, which could lead to the assumption that I am, in fact, alright with that. Maybe she wants that. It was coming all week, let’s be honest. I was just too stupid to see it. Maybe she is evil. Like, a deeply broken, bad person, and my curse is to love her anyway.

I cringe at the idea of Silvio and Suzana, night time in their hotel room, coming up with a seduction strategy. Talking about us like that, fucking each other to the idea of it. It makes my stomach turn.

“Jude,” Astrid is there. The length of her pale legs there by me, and the hallway light pouring in through the open door. “Jude,” kneeling now, my face in her hands, my cheeks hot. “I sent them home.”

Breath in my lungs. “Oh.”

“They made me uncomfortable, so I asked them to leave. Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“You’re upset.”

“Clearly.”

“Oh,” joining me on the floor, we lean against the bed. She strokes my leg. A gesture of comfort I know is unnatural to her, which she knows, theoretically, is helpful. “I hope you don’t think I wanted it. I didn’t wish for that to happen.”

“To be honest, I don’t know what I thought.”

“I didn’t invite them here so that we could… swap partners, or whatever it was they wanted to do. I didn’t realise they were like that.”

“Me neither. I feel so stupid.”

“Yes, me too,” she frowns. “I should have known, I think. There were things they said to me…”

“Like what things?”

“Oh, just Suzana always talking about their sex life in so much detail. She was interested to know what I thought of him. You know, Silvio. I didn’t know that she expected that I might have sex with him.” She looks at me, eyes wide, an uncharacteristically innocent expression. “He’s going bald,” she whispers. “I wouldn’t ever.”

Laughter bubbles from me. It’s the look on her face, the horror, the youthfulness there that I’ve never quite seen before. It seems refreshing. She seems relatable for the first time. “Well, I thought he was odious.” I say.

“He is! He is odious. Awful, awful man. What is she thinking? She can just share him around? I imagine she must have a hard time finding women that want to swap with her. Imagine, a whole holiday spent trying to poach women for such a creep.”

“Oh my God, Astrid, I didn’t know you thought that.”

“Yes. I thought they were interesting, I suppose, and I wanted to impress them, but not like this,” a small, shocked little laugh behind her hand. “I can’t believe it.”

“You wouldn’t do it?” We are whispering. With an empty house, our guests gone and there’s nobody but us. Crouched upon the rug by the bed, the subject still feels conspiratorial, and loud voices wrong. 

“Not with him. Would you have? With Suzana?”

“No.”

“Well, even if they misunderstood, it’s nice they thought we were sexy.”

I pause. “Well, we are.”

“I think so too. Maybe it’s them that should have been trying to impress us.”

“Weren’t they? At least you. They wanted you to like them.”

“Maybe. How stupid, anyway. I don’t know why I cared what they thought.”

“I’m surprised you care about what anybody thinks, to be honest.”

She looks at me. “Why?”

“Why should you have to? You don’t seem the type to be bothered by that kind of thing.”

“Well, I’m human.”

“I see that.”

As we lapse into silence, her hand finds mine, weaving our fingers together, just to touch, and I watch her face, staring contemplatively out through the balcony doors to swaying trees, black shadows against the sky. I whisper, “what are you thinking about?”

She makes a sound that sounds like “hm,” a small smile at the corners of her lips. “That it was a little bit shocking that Silvio thought I might like to sleep with him, but also, maybe… it was a bit sexy too.”

“Ah, you’re turned on by Silvio,” I tease. “You fancy him, now.”

“Of course not. He’s repulsive. But maybe, you know, it was exciting to be desired like that.”

Stroking her wrist with my thumb. “Mm.”

“Maybe I enjoy knowing there are other men out there who want me.”

“You can’t see that?” A shocking concept, if true. She must be the number one most blatantly ogled woman on the planet. She may also be about to reveal herself as the most oblivious.

“I see the way they look at me, but for one to want me so much, even inside his own relationship, even inside mine… to break boundaries because of the wanting. I think I liked the intensity of that.”

“Ah. So someone wanting desperately, but never being able to have you; making a total fool of himself in the process is what turns you on.”

“Is it terrible?”

“No, it isn’t.”

“I’m certain women have made fools of themselves for you, though I don’t think you would tell me if they had.”

Naturally. I admit nothing.

Her eyes move restlessly, landing nowhere. Her chest rises and falls, neck blotchy. 

“It actually really turns you on, doesn’t it? You’re not joking.” I whisper. 

“I think so,” she looks at me, vulnerable. “It shouldn’t.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fight it.”

“I think I want–” she breaks off, trembling.

“What do you want?” My hand is on her leg, stroking gently towards her inner thigh.

“Jude, do you think can we get into bed now?”

“Okay.”

We are hands and mouths, touching, kissing. Lifting her, laying her on the bed, my fingers tugging the straps of her dress, giving up and pushing it over her hips. Hers under the elastic waistband of my shorts. Touching each other, I, the damp spot on her underwear. Her breath on my lips, her throaty moan, fisting the sheets while I slide my fingers through her.

“Anything you want,” she whispers. “Please.”

“Like this, then.” I put her on her front, holding the back of her neck, my fist in her hair. “Yes? This is how you want it?”

“Ah–yes. If you do.”

I hesitate, sweat beading on my brow. This shouldn’t be allowed. Pushing her into the bed like this, still mostly dressed, her breath so shallow and desperate, her neck at that angle. Actually, kind of begging me for it.

“I love you, you know,” I whisper.

A low laugh from her then. “Yes, Jude. I haven’t forgotten.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[justwinginglife]

Restless

25 Days of Simpmas: Day Twenty Three December 23rd: Prince Sett, Rank 3 Anime: Nina The Starry Bride Event Masterlist

Warnings: slight suggestive language

You shouldn’t have opened your big mouth.

It was the middle of the night, and silence enveloped the kingdom of Galgada. The only signs of life were guards unlucky enough to be assigned the night shift; everyone else had succumbed to the spell of the starry night sky, letting the darkness enshroud them as they journeyed to the land of dreams. 

Everyone else, except you and Sett.

As his brothers would often say, the two of you were “disgustingly, sickeningly, and nauseatingly in love” and while you spent your days professing this love to each other, stealing kisses (sometimes more than kisses) and longing glances in between meetings and royal affairs, you also spent your nights so desperately in love that sometimes the two of you were unable to sleep, too busy with flirting and flattery. 

Tonight was one of those nights.

You hadn’t thought it would be, but it was. You’d thought yourself on the verge of sleep, when Sett suddenly cozied up to you, his chest pressed tightly against your back, murmuring about how warm you were, how soft you were, how good you smelt, how good you felt, bombarding you with a variety of sweet nothings, until, giggling, you had no choice but to roll over and face him, shushing him with a kiss. One kiss turned into thousands, and he quickly got drunk on the taste of you. 

He pressed his lips to the curve of your cheek, murmuring “I love you,” he pressed his lips to the edge of your jaw, murmuring “I love you,” and then he pressed his lips to the base of your neck, murmuring “I love you.” And you thought your heart might just combust into mere atoms and become one with his cells or splinter into shards of stardust and sprinkle itself into the night sky. 

So, blaming the lack of sleep and the inability to resist such a man, you told him the first thing on your mind, the only thing on your mind, the thing you were desperate for him to know. “I love you so much that I’d marry you right now if I could.”

And suddenly he was rising out of bed.

“Sett…? Love? Where are you going?”

“You said you’d marry me now.”

“Yes, and?”

His eyes shone brighter than the stars. “And so marry me now.”

Before you could even process the severity of what you’d said, of what you’d done, he was already sauntering down the halls, waking up every slumbering soul. 

Oh shit. He was literally going to marry you now.

Before you knew it, half the castle was awake -soon to be the whole castle- and he was giving out orders to place flowers here and to play music there and to set up food here. He didn’t care what flowers, what music, what food, he just wanted a wedding and he wanted it now. He’d never liked big, public weddings anyway, with guests coming from far and wide to gauge just how useful your marriage would be to their individual countries or states; he was content just to have the residents of the castle as his witnesses while he made you his bride. In fact, he might not have needed them at all; he might not have needed the flowers, or the music, or the food, but he wanted to give you a proper wedding if not a formal one, so it had to be done. 

He didn’t have a wedding suit, but he’d wear the one that you liked, and you didn’t have a wedding dress, but he’d marry you in your nightgown. In fact, he’d marry you in rags, he’d marry you in a bath towel, he’d even marry you naked, if witnesses were not necessary. He just wanted to marry you. And you’d told him you’d marry him now so now it would be. 

You almost regretted opening your big, dumb mouth about the whole thing. Almost.

You did feel sorry for all the people he’d wrenched from their sleep, rubbing their dreary eyes as they tried to distinguish dream from reality. And you felt sorry that, at so late an hour, he was even imposing physical labor upon their weary bodies. 

But maybe you were just as crazy as he was.

Because the more flowers that were placed, the more chairs that were arranged, the more lights that were strung, the more you got excited too. Watching him ardently plan your wedding only made you all the more in love with him. If he got any cuter, you might just drag him up to the altar this very second, even with only half the chairs set up, the musicians still tuning, and the cake still baking. But you stood still and waited, because you knew he was working hard and all for you. It would be a shame to let his hard work go to waste.

While preparations were still being readied, you figured you’d take the time to pull together a wedding outfit. You attempted to sneak out silently, but Sett knew you’d try something like this and before you knew it, your feet were being lifted off the ground. He carried you to your shared chambers and then gently deposited you on the bed.

“You know, you’re not supposed to see the bride’s wedding dress before the wedding,” You protested.

He smirked. “It’s a good thing you don’t have a wedding dress then. I can see you as much as I want.” He tucked a finger under your chin, tilting it up slightly so he could press a kiss to your lips, before beginning to rummage through your wardrobe. “You feeling pink today, maybe blue?”

“Sett!” You exclaimed, reaching to snatch hangers away from him. “You can’t pick out my dress for me!” He held the dresses hostage behind him. “And why not?”

“Because! It’s bad luck.”

“I don’t believe in bad luck. Especially not now that you’re with me.”

“Well then…because it won’t be a surprise!”

“And you care so much about it being a surprise?”

You nodded emphatically. “Because if I walk out there and your jaw is not literally dropping to the ground and your eyes are not bulging out of your head because I’ve stunned you into happy silence, then I will be going back to rewalk the aisle over and over again until you do it right. So, I think it’ll just be easier for the both of us if you don’t know what I’m wearing.” You were only half joking. You really did want it to be a surprise. 

He laughed, pinching your cheek playfully before relinquishing the dresses back to you. “Alright, alright. I’ll do my very best to lose my organs all over the ground when you walk out. But I already know that whatever you wear, you’ll be gorgeous. Hell, you already are now, my love.” 

After looking you up and down to confirm what he already knew -that you were indeed stunning- he licked his lips and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. “You know…” He nuzzled against your ear, nipping at it slightly. “They’re still getting everything ready. We have time, if you want to-”

“Okay, you need to get out.” You laughed, shoving him towards the door.

He chuckled. “It was just an idea, my love. I promise to be stunned the next time we see each other.” With a slight wave, he disappeared out the door.

The second his frame vanished, you called in an army. You needed all the help you could get- with someone on hair duty, someone on makeup duty, and someone to get this damn dress on you. It was going to be perfect; you were going to will it to be so. 

When you were satisfied with your appearance and the ceremony preparations had been completed, it was finally time. 

You took a deep breath and then took a step forward. 

You knew guests were rising from their seats as you entered the room, and you knew their eyes were all on you. But their eyes didn’t matter, only his. And for this one, single moment, as the music filled the air and led you down the aisle, it was like you and him were the only two people in the entire world. And stunned didn’t even begin to describe how he was feeling. 

When he saw you in the doorway, it was like time stopped. It was like he’d never known the sun or the stars before, like you were the only light in his whole world. And you were glowing and you were dazzling and you were breathtaking. 

And when you made it to the end of the aisle, taking his hands as you approached him, he whispered to you, “Do it again. I wanna see you walk again and again and again.”

You laughed and said, “C’mon, silly. Let’s get married.”

The priest barely had time to speak, only making it as far as, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together-” before Sett declared, “I do.” 

And when the priest cleared his throat, raising a brow at Sett, before attempting to continue on with his speech, Sett proclaimed again and again, “I do, I absolutely do.”

Only when you’d given him a light scolding, and after he’d defended himself saying, “What? I do, though,” was the priest allowed to finish.

And then you kissed.

 And it was the best night of your entire life.

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter

[rei-ismyname]

Giant-Size Wolverine retcons

Marvel, famously, loves having Wolverine as a cash cow, to the point it has its own entry on TVTropes. This manifests as a LOT of Wolverine #1s being released as well as the clawed-one showing up on deceitful covers and guest starring anywhere they think they can justify it. Less common (but still frequent enough) is Forrest Gumping him into historical events or rewriting events he was there for as a character study cynical profiteering.

Sunfire is still great - 'banal prattle.' You tell em

This is the latter, foregrounding Logan in Giant-Size X-Men to the detriment of almost everyone else. In the original Giant-Size X-Men, Logan sits at the back and says very little. Here he takes charge and uncharacteristically identifies that the new squad lacks synergy and a sense of teamwork. He opens with 'it's your first day as new X-Men, people. I'm going to show you how this works.' Uh, isn't it yours too? Did I miss a meeting?

Poor Kurt. Eddie Munster is just mean

So he starts a fight, telling everyone there's one too many people. Colossus objects for sexist reasons (not objection to killing lol) and Storm puts him in his place. Sunfire and Thunderbird both have little patience for white people or bullshit and Logan catches a fireball...

... and an elbow to the spine. Ororo goes off with electricity and Kurt just doesn't want to die, so he BAMFs behind her and starts choking Storm from behind. Logan turns the tables on Proudstar and drops a one liner about metal conducting electricity. I'm no wizard, but I don't think it interacts well with human flesh, either, especially if they have a metal skeleton. Obviously he takes everyone down and has the biggest dick in the world.

Yeah... about Thunderbird.

Banshee bursts in and reveals Logan is acting against Chuck's wishes. I'm generally in favour of that but I'm not fond of its narrative function at all . He has an open shirt, a toothpick in his mouth, and looks oh so pleased with himself. I'm not some reactionary purist who worships the sacred texts and pushes back against retcons. Quite the opposite, in fact. Additive retcons are fantastic when done well - Magneto being a Holocaust survivor stands as one of the best in fiction.

I don't think that's what this is, or at least it's not successful. In Giant-Size X-Men #1 there's no time for this pissing contest because all the other X-Men need rescuing ASAP. Chuck rounds them up and handles the basics then defers to Cyclops, the field leader of many years. They leave immediately and nobody is getting along. Sunfire leaves then comes back. Scott is all business because he's worried about the folks on Krakoa and there just isn't time. If they respect the chain of command in the field that's good enough. Team building can come later.

What's achieved here besides sidelining everyone to centre edge lord Logan? Not a lot, in fact I'd say it minimises Logan's character arc most of all. He was a grumpy loner who eventually learnt to trust people, came to see the X-Men as family, and committed to the team. Logan knowing half this stuff already and having this degree of social confidence just undermines that, as well as Cyclops' leadership of this ragged band. Not sure what Whedon was thinking tbh.

That wasn't the end of it, though. Interestingly, this is Chris Claremont writing here. Again, I'm not a purist and I'm under no illusion about CC's later X-Men work. He'd worked with these characters for a long time but Giant-Size was Wein & Cockrum, so he's choosing to expand the origin story. Thunderbird is still alive so they're still pretty new here. Anyway, Cyke is running a danger room training session - Storm vs Thunderbird.

After some kinda bizarre ethnic posturing Ororo is pinned.

Unsurprisingly, she starts to wig out due to her claustrophobia. Logan picks it up with his advanced senses and jumps in. Scott owns the mistake and ends the training session.

I find it hard to buy Scott would feel like his authority was undermined here. Logan is being as paternalistic as ever, but Scott blames himself for failures. He doesn't externalise it and he understands he's not leading children anymore. It's Chuck who has difficulty adapting to this specific dynamic. Also, Logan had zero interest in leadership. None. It was Ororo who was a friendly rival to him and ended up succeeding him as leader. He also didn't especially trust or show respect to anyone. Everyone else has problems but the focus and Charles' confidant is Wolverine. That's silly as hell.

Okay, private insecurity and self-doubt, totally Scott's thing. I'm just going to ignore literally everything else that's happening, especially 'damaged goods.' Ugh.

The second story came out in 2005 in Giant-Size X-Men #4. Aside from the Wolverine oversaturation and other weird shit I've pointed out, I feel like there was a concerted effort to bring certain characters closer to their FOX movies counterparts. Chuck started looking like Captain Picard, Scott was Flanderised a bit but moreso deemphasized, and Logan started to look and act more like Hugh Jackman. He joined more teams, regressed in social growth yet became way more important to the X-Men. More important to the very fabric of the Marvel universe.

I get why it happened (capitalism) but I think it was executed poorly in many instances. These are particularly egregious, but Wolverine was and is fucking everywhere - under many different writers. There's always going to be a sense of asynchronicity under those circumstances. I've actually come to really dislike Logan lately. Obviously it's an issue for most long running characters, but his particular regression to the mean every new book bores the shit out of me. He's not growing at all, even when everything around him changes. On Krakoa he was mostly just gruff and stabby, monologuing about hell, beer, time, nature, poison, and being the best he is at what he does. 🙄

He'll usually find someone worse than him to point at and call out with transparency he never applies to himself. Magneto, Scott, Beast, Scott, Chuck, teenage Scott, Sabertooth, Omega Red, Beast, Chuck, and Scott again. Someone please deconstruct this guy! Send him to therapy, break him down to his base components and examine them. Fuck his moping or running naked with wolves or fighting the W-digo - give him a messy boyfriend and force him to get the fuck over Jean Grey.

He can still fight ninjas and mentor troubled teens and sulk about whatever his latest thing is - just have him grow! His books will still sell, people will still cheer when he says bub, and snikt isn't going away. Hire Al Ewing to do it like he did with Loki, Hulk, Magneto, Sunspot, etc. Some of those changes actually stuck and the characters are more popular than ever! Is that too much to hope for? Almost certainly, but one can hope.

Boy I got carried away on that outro, lol.

[tabbywaslost]

Maybe killermare fluff headcanons?

Of course!!

1.

Killer sometimes uses Nightmare's tentacles as monkey bars or as slides when he is bored.

2.

Whenever Nightmare reads a book, Killer sits besides him trying to catch up to him reading because Nightmare can read REAL fast and Killer hates books but loves Nightmare.

3.

They are always sitting besides each other in all gatherings and everything. If the place is crowded, they will not leave each other's side no matter what happens.

4.

MY OWN MULTIVERSE!

They became a couple after The Fallen Star Sanses era. During that era, everyone helped each other out but Killer was different from everyone else when it came to Nightmare. Since Nightmare turned back into his passive form, he was powerless but Killer sorta became his personal guard and literally didn't leave Nightmare in any way possible and even got severely injured and almost killed while protecting Nightmare but he didn't stop. And Nightmare just realized that that man would actually do anything for him no matter what. He realized that Killer would even sacrifice himself for him. And also, Killer was able to get away with constantly flirting with Nightmare without having to run away before he gets a good verbal punishment because Nightmare had stopped physically punishing them by then.

5.

Their wedding was somewhat themed. It had references to their fav movies and fav books, and they requested that everybody wear silver or grey colors to their wedding because Killer was gonna wear black and Nightmare was gonna wear white. The best man at Killer's side was Color and the best man and Nightmare's side was Dream. Dream took the microphone for a long time though and started going on and on about his fun memories as a kid with Nightmare, how he wishes them happiness, and a lot, lot more. He was talking for nearly 2 hours until Cross pulled him aside. He continued talking to all the guests after the ceremony and nobody really complained, they were all happy to see him so hyped up at his brother's wedding.

6.

Nightmare took a sewing course from Error and made Killer a new jacket. Killer absolutely treasures that jacket more than he treasures his own life and only wears it on special occasions, absolutely REFUSING to wear it on missions because it could be harmed.

7.

When they first got together, Nightmare decided to keep it secret due to him not knowing how to tell the others yet. Some figured it out and some were in denial upon figuring out but nonetheless, everybody knew so there was no need to announce it and so they didn't announce it and just kept it as is.

8.

Since Nightmare has no prior relationship experience and is somewhat clueless on what to do when it comes to a relationship so Killer takes lead and does most of the relationship stuff. Nightmare sometimes takes inspiration from some of the characters in the books he reads and says some insanely affectionate stuff but gets INSANELY flustered upon hearing and "I love you" from Killer. Nightmare showers Killer with all sorts of gifts too.

9.

Nightmare and Killer have a small game that they play where they get an empty journal that's about 60-80 pages and they pick out characters names and places, then Nightmare writes on the first page and Killer writes on the next without knowing what Nightmare has written. The only information Nightmare gives him is what characters are in the previous page and where they are and Killer has to go off of that and write page 2, then it's Nightmare's turn for page 3, etc. And when they finish it, they sit down and read the absolute monstrosity that they wrote and laugh their heads off because the characters can be fighting to death in one page and kissing in the next.

10.

On nights where one of them can't sleep, he'll wake up the other and they'll just have long conversations about everything. Good memories, bad memories, conspiracy theories, gossip, etc.

I'm so sorry this is late, I was very busy and burnt out. My apologies!!