#i love being a bit insane about films sometimes

[cdreambur]

I'm curious.. what are some of your favorite films in terms of cinematography?

i'm sure i'm going to forget some since i've watched so many movies in my life and i definitely don't remember all of them lol

since i've already mentioned it, i absolutely adore rogue one. it's such a good movie, no matter from what perspective you're looking at it, but the cinematography is just chef's kiss. they got so many amazing shots in this, and there's this one scene towards the end that's just so incredible, especially in the context of the movie, that it makes me go a little insane every time i watch it.

another one i can think of from the top of my head right now is everything everywhere all at once. i can't even put into words how much i love that movie (all of these oscars were deserved man) and i think the cinematography plays a big part in that. like, this film is so good it makes me a little mad sometimes lol

i mean, we already talked about interstellar, and, looking through a list i made for one of my friends, i'm extending some notable mentions to inception, the spider-verse films (of course), knives out, dune, and all quiet on the western front.

i'm not going to go too much into it because we would be here until tomorrow, but i love all of these films.

[jiminrings]

if-then

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 7k

glimpse: you're an alien in prince jungkook's planet — both literally and figuratively.

alternatively, jungkook gives his nickname for you to someone else in a fit of anger, and you've never been more upset.

[ fluff, angst, painfully oblivious n dense alien koo, mutual pining (yes MUTUAL!!!!), the glaring concept of not being good n whole enough to deserve love (yikes but i Swear it gets better), mentions of injuries ]

notes: after being asked for literal years to write an alien au, it's finally here!!!! mwah thank u for patiently waiting :D

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook’s fond of appraising things.

He’s fond of assigning values to things that may or may not hold some bit of importance to his life, whether its value proves itself in the present or the future. Jungkook likes setting his literal ducks in a row, and the little inanimate yellow tokens that his brother brought back from Earth serve as a discreet (not really, though) reminder that he may have some hoarder tendencies.

Jungkook’s not really a hoarder-hoarder; it just happens that he likes keeping things, sometimes for no apparent reason at all.

He likes swiping the flashlights that the night guards use to stash in his own personal “emergency” (not that there’s ever been one, nor will there ever be) cabinet, just because he wants to be prepared for a natural catastrophe that won’t probably ever happen in his area. He’s already seen a couple of films that humans have made, and if ever comes a time that Planet Twell has a dinosaurian monster battle it out with a gigantic prehistoric ape, Jungkook’s proud to say that he has a couple flashlights for him and his brothers to use.

In addition, Jungkook likes picking flowers just before they go out of season. His eldest brother’s already cussed him out for it, but he’ll still do what he does best (?), if best means “preserving” the flowers by drowning them in water every ten minutes so they wouldn’t wilt and he’d still get to see them during off-peak days.

Prince Jungkook likes appraising things in his own definition and pace. They’re never categorized in his head for what they actually do, but for what kind of unexplainable fulfillment fills his chest whenever he thinks about the item.

The youngest prince of Twell didn’t like it when there was a commotion at the lily field and the citizens ran out to see what it was about, instead of eating their slices of cake with the fondant that he made out of scratch. Jungkook didn’t like the fondant either because there must be something insanely wrong with itself (or it’s just that he made it just as bad), but he didn’t like being alone either when finding out about the taste.

He didn’t like seeing the tiger lilies he planted himself squished underneath an unknown figure, who may or may not have fallen from the sky, judging by the way you’re wincing alone with no aircraft, no parachute, nor any other person with you.

Jungkook didn’t like seeing you, an alien, who’s just as confused with the entire ordeal. You can’t remember anything about how or why you’ve gotten here — all you know is your name and who you are, and unexpectedly so, the first prince who’s gotten to where you are isn’t so thrilled about the fact.

He’s fond of appraising things, and although he’s not extremely excited about you just as he had been when Yoongi brought home trinkets from him during his trip to Earth (including the very seeds for the tiger lilies you’ve destroyed), he’ll make do.

Jungkook will try and make you mean something, if not everything, to him.

.

.

.

Prince Jungkook has come to learn that you’re part human.

You’re neither fully his kind nor his type (or atleast that’s what he thinks so) and he doesn’t know what to feel about that. He doesn’t know what to feel about only the slight panic that filled you knowing that it’s still unexplained of how or why you’re in Twell; even more, he doesn’t know what to feel that you’re neither scared nor intimidated by him.

You don’t know what to feel either when Jungkook, who’s only mildly shocked about your existence in general, delivers his first question to you and it’s not of the sort that you expected. He looks soft and round, unlike the hearsay about his kind that only amounts to half of you. He doesn’t look aloof and unaccepting at all — if anything, he looks at you like you’re the one who’s cruel instead of him.

Jungkook almost completely does not care about who you are or where you’re from, but what he cares about is if you have any trinkets with you that he could possibly have. Out of anything he could possibly solicit from you, he only asks for so little, no matter how odd.

“T-trinkets?” you squeak, brows raising in surprise. “I’m sorry, Prince Jungkook — y-you’re asking if I have trinkets so you could have them?”

“Yeah,” he nods, lips pursed and cheeks puffed out as he confirms your confusion. “It’s my birthday, and I want to have a trinket.”

“Oh,” you blink once, twice,  a small smile playing on your lips to replace the fact that you’ve been confused for the entire half hour since you came back to consciousness. “Happy birthday, prince.”

“I see.” 

“It’s thank you,” you mutter automatically, coughing lightly when he only knits his brows at you. He’s cute this way — innocent, even. “I-I mean you’re supposed to say thank you when someone greets you, or when someone does something nice for you in general.”

“Okay. My brother forgot to teach me that,” Jungkook hums in recognition, eyes briefly glowing with a bluish hue before he regains his composure. “Thank you.”

You wonder if staring is also frowned upon in this planet.

You wonder if it would get you a mean glare or a sarcastic snicker if you were to stare at Prince Jungkook a little longer without any thoughts floating in your brain, except for the fact that you are completely unaware that you’re already zoning out on him. 

You wonder if it would be wrong for your eyes to take in every single detail of him from his short hair that softly falls onto his forehead, to his supposed birthday attire that only consists of a white button-up, to his gleaming royal jewelry that rightfully so, only looks like it would belong to him and him only.

“Trinket?” he reminds you, head tilting and eyes widening as he cranes his neck to look at you beyond the table that separates the both of you.

“Oh! U-uhm,” you scour your pockets immediately just to present something, and bluntly put, you haven’t even checked your well-being, much less the possessions you have on yourself. You feel more than relieved to know that it isn’t empty, because oddly enough, you’d feel a little upset— a little down if you were to disappoint a prince you just met not more than an hour ago. “I have this handkerchief, I guess.”

“Perfect!” Jungkook exclaims, leaning to grab the baby blue square from you that’s embroidered with your initials that are unfamiliar to him. He clutches it into his hand tightly with a smile on his face, the happiness later dwindling when he realizes he has no clue of what he’s holding. “What is it supposed to do?”

You blank at that, meekly scratching your temple. “Nothing, I think. It’s just there for most people, but I’ve never had to use it.”

“You’ve never had to use it, but you still take it with you?” he attempts to clarify, a slight frown embedded into his lips as he looks down on your averagely prized possession.

“I don’t mean never as in never ever, and I’ve used it a couple of times like everyone else does, but it’s just-…” you trail off, shrugging helplessly because you can’t describe the concept of nothing to him easily. “It’s just there.”

You’re more than fatigued and a lot more confused (albeit less worried) about the semantics of your presence here in Twell, specifically in Prince Jungkook’s office, but the latter doesn’t seem to take mind as he takes you with an open mind.

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll have it,” he announces, shifting his eyes between you and your (his now) handkerchief that he’s slowly and hesitantly unraveling, only to put back into its original square form after every move.

“You will?” you almost snort, a tiny bit amused that a prince is clenching your handkerchief like its the most interesting thing in the galaxy.

“Yes,” he hums distractedly, looking up at you as he lightly scratches the embroidered teddy bear at the corner of the fold. “I will have you too.”

“You will?! You’re not going to dispose me or anything?” you straighten immediately, eyes more frantic and disbelieving to hear that you’re being taken care of (or something of the sort) than just awhile ago when you were unsure of your fate. “Why?”

“Don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs just as easily as you do. “I just want to.”

( ♡ ) 

Prince Jungkook isn’t so bad, and neither is Twell.

The planet isn’t so bad in the sense that although you don’t feel the most welcome you have ever been in your entire life, there’s a recognition that seeps into your bones that some of them, if not most, would set out a plate for you if ever Jungkook came into their homes. He’s the social butterfly of his family; the baby lamb that’s set out into the field to check up on everyone else and act as a mannequin of sorts that’s a little less superficial, and a little more warm.

Jungkook isn’t so bad either in the sense that although it’s the bare minimum to do so, he doesn’t throw his kindness back to your face even in the most critical situations, with now being the sole exception.

With the exception of now, Prince Jungkook has not ever acted rashly towards you. He wasn’t annoyed with you when you kept asking him questions of what it would mean to act as his security detail, and he wasn’t irked either when your questions about your heritage (and his by extension) toed personal lines that no one else would dare cross.

With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never acted rude towards you. He wasn’t as guarded with your existence like his older brothers were; as a matter of fact, he even came to your defense when some of them theorized that you were only here in their planet to act as a precursor for their downfall.

With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never been this cruel; with the ultimatum of his pride over your heart, he’s never made you feel this different and alienated from him — with, of course, the exception of now.

Heartbreak is a human emotion.

The weakness of the concept is disturbingly human and vulnerable. There’s no escape from it, even if the said percentage of human in your blood is barely half and could light a candle to your more evolved, far more powerful Twellian genes. It’s a sickening emotion to feel, much more have it get you carried away from what you have to do at hand.

The grip that said heartbreakhas on you is unimaginable, far more different than what your people, not humans, tell you how it’d feel like. There had already been an uproar when it was announced that you were appointed as Prince Jungkook’s guard, the news of an impure Twellian bearing the coveted position receiving every reaction possible — from fear, to distaste, and even to genuine amazement.

All of the kingdom’s advisers had theorized that despite you of being impure heritage, youwere superior in terms of physical capabilities. With everything else you’ve been theorized to lack at, you bite at the possibility that the ache in your chest is attributed to your stunted emotions.

You feel painfully human. You feel what heartbreak is, and compared to what others have made it out to be, it’s an emotion that you can’t put into words.

“You can’t, Jungkook,” you firmly say once more with your ears ringing, not because the volume of the club makes you want to get down on your knees, but because you’ve perhaps heard something far worse; far more grating, and far more overwhelming than what your heart could even bear. "All of your brothers specifically insisted for me to bring you back before midnight."

They say that your hearing’s supposed to be better. They say that you could see far more colors than what your alien counterpart could ever do. They say that for everything else you lacked, you made up for with the way you’re more physically advanced and therefore adept to protecting the planet’s youngest prince.

No one’s ever said that you’ll be safe from Jungkook himself.

"Jungkook, let's go home. Please," you plead through your teeth, the word you’ve last spoken being the latest term you’ve taught him. Jungkook, along with everyone else, is not familiar with begging; they’re not familiar with desperation so wrung out, there’s actually a word made just for it.

Jungkook only scowls at you, eyes turning a bright red as opposed to his usual pink allotted for you. "Butt out," he murmurs, tightly crossing his arms as his nostrils flare involuntarily. ”You promised me I could be out tonight."

You’re starting to get over the heartbreak little by little, the tantrum thrown by the young prince making you indifferent. 

Maybe you just misheard a few minutes ago — maybe, it was only a fluke and you didn’t hear it correctly the first time. Maybe it’s only your faulty impureness that made you susceptible to just hearing your nickname out of nowhere. Maybe, it’s not heartbreak that you were feeling, but rather only a subdued version of it by seeing Jungkook disappointed at you doing your job.

It’s your fault, you guess. Perhaps it’s the fault of the bustle of the club and the hundreds of dialects you could hear all at once finally got to you, overwhelming you to the point that you heard Jungkook calling for your name, despite not looking at you all.

You’re about to plead even more for the both of you to go back already; to save him from a lecture from all of his brothers and for you to be spared an even harsher scolding because they think you’ve gone too soft for him — but then you hear it. Again. 

Jungkook clenches his jaw tightly, eyes glowing a bright magenta before he opens his mouth.

"Come on, princess," he calls you by his term of endearment for you, yet his hand is outstretched for the female Twellian on his side.

He’s not calling you — he’s not even paying attention to you. Jungkook isn’t giving you a shred of his focus but he wants you to hear him call someone else the endearment he had playfully made up for you, to which you grew accustomed to without fail. He wants you to see how he gives it to someone else easily, the syllables falling from his tongue easily getting into the girl’s head.

Jungkook wants you to know how angry he is over you doing your job, he hits you where it hurts. He has no idea what heartbreak is supposed to feel like, but he doubts that you’d even feel that emotion over what he’s done — and if you actually do over something seemingly simple (for him atleast), he could only think that everyone else is exaggerating what it felt like.

Your heart, whatever is human of it, skips. It tightens and it loosens alarmingly so, almost as if you have no control for the liquid hurt that compromises you.

“I’ll show you a good time tonight, princess,” Jungkook whispers to her ear loudly for good measure, eyes darting up at you, only for him to see that you’ve been watching the whole time. 

You almost can’t tear your eyes away until Jungkook crashes his lips into hers, your nickname easily falling out of his lips as if the endearment is free for everyone; as if it’s never been yours in the first place and you only borrowed it out of desperation.

Your whole flight home is quiet.

Jungkook makes it back home before midnight, but you don’t.

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s been looking for you the whole day.

He’s been looking for you since he woke up, and that was fifteen ungodly hours ago when he had risen in a cold sweat. Jungkook felt sick to his stomach, and despite his insistence that something must be severely wrong with him for him to feel that way, the palace doctor (along with every other physician, healer, and reader he knew of) confirmed that nothing was out of place.

Jungkook’s supposedly okay, yet it feels like every part of him is being wrung dry. There’s an ache to his chest that renders him stupid because he feels like he’s forgotten every word, every lesson, and every vaguest bit of semblance that would detail about what he felt.

All of a sudden, Jungkook feels like he’s forgotten what the palace looks like. It’s as if he’s forgotten how tiles are supposed to feel cold on bare feet and how bleak his days are when he doesn’t have you by his side, even if the palace is also occupied by his brothers and the grounds are teeming with staff.

The young prince suddenly feels that he’s forgotten the very layout of his home because his mouth is agape at each room he walks in, simply because you’re not there. He’s practically turned the palace upside down just to grab a whiff of you somehow, and yet you’re nowhere to be found. 

Nothing from his or his brothers’ belongings are missing. There’s not a single piece of furniture that’s tilted askew. Nothing has been taken from Jungkook except his peace of mind and the capacity to just stay still because your sudden disappearance unsettles him like no other.

.

.

.

You’re back home, except you’re no longer dressed in the same outfit you left him in. 

Your uniform’s been ditched for something more casual — something more worn and lived in to the point that it looks like a shirt that’s never been yours in the first place. The sight of you, dressed in clothes that’s not yours, puts a bitter taste to Jungkook’s mouth.

He’s never been that selfish before. He’s generous and lenient as far as a prince could go, and yet he’s never felt this territorial over something seemingly as trivial as a shared garment.

The concern feels too vulnerable to the point that only a silly human, something Jungkook’s not, would consider it as a burden.

“Where were you?” he asks with the gentleness he didn’t think he’d possess after being worried shitless about you, the panic he had harbored for the longest time immediately dissipating at you.

Jungkook wants to be mad at you so, so, so badly. He wants to be angry at the way it was irresponsible for you to be alone because after all, your strength wouldn’t compensate for the gleaming fact that you’re not from here in the first place.

“I was on my leave,” you answer simply, keeping your hands behind your back as if this was any other outing with Prince Jungkook and not just Jungkook, the same man who’d call you princess for fun and hold your hand just for the sake of it.

“I didn’t say you could be on leave,” he lowers his voice, jaw tightening at the sight of you being indifferent towards him.

“I asked your brothers.”

Jungkook feels that sickness again. He feels that tinge of metal that lingers in the roof of his mouth and he wants to spit it out in front of you just to see if he’d find something else that’s not the sensations he’s been experiencing since you came around; if he’d find something else that’s not your doing yet affects him just as much.

“What if I needed protecting, hm? What if something happened to me while you were gone?” Jungkook half-taunts, shrinking on himself despite doing his hardest to appear big by crossing his arms.

“I knew you were in good hands, prince,” you tense, the tide that comes with your tone washing over Jungkook until he drowns in the realization that you were there while she was in his quarters. “I made to sure to hear that you were in very good company before I left.”

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s on a self-imposed break from his duties.

The prince’s duties almost exclusively involved chatting and being charismatic in general, along with the occasional goodwill event wherein he had to be all over the place just to take care of things, and not once did he ever take this long of a radio silent break — or atleast that’s what one of his brothers said.

He’s been cooped up in his room since you came back two weeks ago. Despite your absence (if you could even call it that) that barely lasted for an entire day, along with your confrontation just spanning within minutes, it’s been theorized by one of Jungkook’s brothers, again, that it’s because of your doing.

The youngest prince is theorized to be sulking over you and you simply cannot believe it.

You refuse to believe that Jungkook is bedridden with sadness because to begin with, his kind isn’t even supposed to feel such type of intense emotion. He shouldn’t be swayed by you — he shouldn’t be preoccupied with such pathetic, human emotion that you thought only you could feel because of him.

You rebuff the idea that he’s paralyzed with guilt, not only because you feel that it’s physically impossible for him to be, but because it’s him. Someone of Jungkook’s power and influence wouldn’t be so ridden with guilt that he refuses to show his face to you because he’s ashamed of hurting you.

You reject with your whole heart each and every idea that his brothers pitch you. You stay stationary with Jungkook and yet you will yourself to amount to something, even if it isn’t for him, just so the sickening feeling of being replaced won’t ever creep up to you.

You’re in love with him and it’s terrifying.

What’s even more terrifying is that you’re not the only one who knows so.

“I suggest not falling in love with Jungkook.”

You look up so sharply, your neck aches at the speed. Yoongi stands above you with a perfunctory smile, and with just the tiny bit of effort for him to come near you almost makes you forget that he’s Jungkook’s brother who had been particularly vocal about being wary of you.

“I’m sorry?” you murmur in disbelief, eyes wide and unblinking as you take into account his perfect tone.

“It’s obvious, you know?” he smiles tightly, pulling a chair to sit himself down across from you. Yoongi looks relaxed as he takes you in, almost as if he hasn’t spent half a year avoiding you. “I’ve seen the way you look at my brother. I’ve seen it over and over again when I was sent for a mission on your planet.”

You want to ask him why he’s telling you this. You want to ask badly why he’s saying this now when you’ve been certain for the longest time that your adoration for Jungkook wasn’t apparent in a land of creatures that don’t know what love, in your own terms, is supposed to look like.

You want to ask Yoongi why it shouldn’t be Jungkook, but you can’t bring yourself to — not because you know the answer deep down in your subconscious, but because you’re afraid that he would only make sense—

That he’d only solidify why Jungkook should never be in your orbit.

“Oh,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you like my planet then?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I’m sorry, my prince,” you immediately apologize, looking down on your lap as you wait for the impeding lecture; maybe even the impending punishment (you’re not sure what it is, but you know it would hurt someway and somehow) that comes with loving the prince, even by the sidelines.

“Jungkook is a wildcard at best,” he trails off, exhaling heavily as he listens for the heartbeat in the room behind you that houses his brother. “He’s brash and stubborn. He’s driven by emotions we are not even supposed to have.”

If Yoongi stands up now and jiggles the knob to Jungkook’s room with just the slightest bit of force, he can guarantee that the latter would be falling face-down to the floor, just because of the way he has his ears pressed to the door.

Jungkook is moping and sulking and to this day, he does remain miserable — the aforementioned factors don’t stop him from being desperate and nosy.

“What I’m saying is that he’s weak, Y/N,” Yoongi sighs. “The strong isn’t for the weak. That’s always been the case.”

“I know I’m weak, prince, but I-…”

“What?” the prince laughs out loud, the smile on his face wide and cheery. He’s so amused with you that his eyes glow into pink, throwing his head back as he regains his composure. “Jungkook’s the weak one. Not you, obviously,” he snorts. “He’s basically a loser with a crown on his head. He’s the one who doesn’t deserve you and not the other way around.”

You’re not the one who’s being insulted, and yet it feels like it. Your throat tingles and your ribs burn at the sudden urge for you to protect Jungkook, even if he’s in no real threat; even if it feels like all the baser parts of you are coming together just to make sense of the way you grow simultaneously weak and strong for him.

Jungkook, the actual subject who’s being insulted and is proving his brother right by being weak because he’s wallowing in his room out of self-deprecation, sadly hums to himself in agreement.

“I’m not-…”

“Don’t refute it — that’s an order.”

“Prince Yoongi,” you relent, trying to find the right words. “May I ask why you’re telling me this?”

“Because Jungkook’s weak,” Yoongi answers simply. “I’m just saying that you don’t have to be weak with him and for him.”

( ♡ ) 

You’re eating dinner by yourself in the staff room when Jungkook walks in.

It’s the first you’ve seen of him in three weeks. He’s evidently moving on from what seems to have been a rough period for him, right when you’re at your lowest that you’ve ever been.

Prince Jungkook decides that after three weeks, he should take you by surprise and meet you in the staff room wherein you’re alone, pushing your dinner around your plate instead of doing any other menial task you’ve assigned yourself just so it would feel like you’re in use.

You’re just there. You just happen to be there and no one, even you, could do anything about it. You just happen to be there with no exact purpose and it’s gnawing at you from the inside out.

It feels all over again that your family is the runt of the entire extended bloodline. It feels that you’re not remarkable enough for your relatives to surround you and that you don’t amount to anything enough, in whatever aspect it is, to get a shred of attention that isn’t pity,

It feels like the sinking sensation in your chest wherein you have to see that all your mom could contribute to the table is her trusted homemade recipe during holidays, lost amongst a sea full of pre-ordered meals that only your relatives could afford. Like it’s how your dad’s side of the family is borderline batshit crazy and he’s the only one that turned out to be good, and you can’t do anything but watch strangers your have for blood relatives belittle you. Familiarly so, it’s like you’re a kid again with your siblings sitting on the carpet and cleaning up wrapping paper from gifts, not because the gifts are for you, but because you just happen to be there.

You feel like the alien that you are wherein you don’t belong; wherein your family has to sit on the spare chairs dug up from the basement, situated on a portable table outside of the actual, solid dining table where everyone’s sat. 

Jungkook sits with you at that dusty, old portable table. He sits himself on the flimsy chair that’s only used for stepping and for laundry.

Jungkook sits with you, not because he just happens to be there, but because he’s there for you.

“I’m… sorry for calling someone else princess.”

“It’s no problem,” you murmur, putting your fork down as you keep your hands glued to your knees underneath the table.

“But there is a problem,” Jungkook counters, lowering his head to get you to look at him yet you don’t budge. “I’m not okay with calling anyone else princess other than you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“Then suit yourself,” you quip, even with your voice shaky and your vision blurry.

“I’m-…” Jungkook starts again, racking his brain for the limited vocabulary he has that surely isn’t enough to make up for his grave msitake. “I’m very sorry for making you feel bad. It must have hurt.”

“It’s no problem.”

“There’s a problem,” he insists. “I’m saying sorry because I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“But I did,” he frowns, beyond confused to why you keep denying the fact that he’s hurt you in ways he can’t even imagine.

“You really didn’t.”

“Why do you not want me to say sorry?” Jungkook questions, voice raising yet he still looks confused— innocent, even. “Did I… hurt you that much?”

It’s the last straw for you. The pure innocence in Jungkook’s words is and should be the last straw for you because it only makes you realize that he’d never understand you. It resonates in your head, more than ever, that you’ll never be able to understand him fully either because you’ll never be the same.

The only option the universe provides you is for you to love Jungkook halfway.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Prince Jungkook. I shall go back to-…”

“Can I not say sorry to you?” Jungkook bursts, darting his hand out blindly to get a hold on you before you leave.

“You can’t say sorry to me because all of this would feel real,” you ramble, shaking your head vehemently. “You should not say sorry to me because that would mean that I’m hurt because I love you.”

Jungkook looks at you innocently with his eyes wide and lips parted, blissfully unaware of the name to the sensation that keeps tugging at his chest to the point that it feels like it would burst open, yet above all else, he still dives in head-first.

“Can you not love me, princess?” he tilts his head. “Is it not allowed?”

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi’s words lie heavily on both you and Jungkook.

The prince’s sentiment stays on your chest like a paperweight that only grows heavier the more that you try to push it off. You know Yoongi means well, no matter how his words come across otherwise, but the longer that you think about his own suggestion regarding his brother, the more you feel unsure.

Jungkook’s made complete sense of his brother’s words on the other hand, and instead of being filled with a type of rage that only bubbles up when being looked down on, oddly enough, he comes to the truth quite easily.

He knows the truth that he’s weak despite painting himself the opposite, and he feels it the most now that you’re the one who’s distancing yourself from him. Jungkook feels like swallowing the sun and chasing it down with water when you respond to princess, even if it’s jokingly uttered by his brothers and not said sincerely by him alone.

He knows the truth that he’s the weak one in the family, if not the weakest, whenever he stands next to them. Jungkook may be the poster prince for the citizens but he knows the most out of everyone that he’s not as vital to the kingdom as the others are. He may get an assigned seat at the actual, solid dining table, but he knows that he’s not at the head of it.

He knows he’s weak, with and for you, and that’s never bothered him until it actually did.

Jungkook’s eyesight isn’t as good as yours.

Unlike you, he’s restrained by the entirety of his Twellian blood from immediately focusing his gaze on anything. There’s a lag that registers whenever he fixes his sight on anything, just like everyone else but you, and that hadn’t been a bother to Jungkook the whole time.

He had falsely assumed that since you’re the only one who’s different here, the only exception in the planet by being impure and partially human, you’d be the one who’ll have a hard time adjusting your daily life to his — not the other way around.

Jungkook, who had not once ever felt insecurity before, suddenly feels inferior. He feels like dirt and yet he’s angry, not because of the fact that he comes second to your abilities, but because he can’t do shit when it comes to you.

The prince’s eyesight isn’t good enough to notice the tiny little expressions that litter your face whenever something remotely intriguing happens to you. His hearing isn’t on par with yours because he can’t register the laugh in your voice as quickly as you could recognize his. He’s not on the same level as you and it’s only now that it bothers him—

The realization creeps into Jungkook, slowly yet unsettlingly, when he sees the cut on your cheek; the liquor of inferiority, chased down by Jungkook’s own rage, only hits him the moment he sees that a nasty bruise is blossoming by the corner of your eye.

Jungkook grips your jaw lightly out of nowhere, making you look up at him unexpectedly when you had been only preoccupied with fixing him his drink. The prince, no matter the unmistakeable rage that’s brewing in red, is the softest he’s ever been when it comes to addressing you.

“Who hurt you?” 

He has all his attention on you and it’s almost sickening with the way he doesn’t want to break off. Jungkook’s hand is still on your jaw and his eyes are still fixed on yours and yet his mind, whatever remains rational of it and not just vengeful, is going a million miles per hour.

“Get your hands off me,” you spit, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the vitriol that spills out of him so clearly, the air around both of you shifts.

“I asked you a question,”Jungkook repeats, putting is hand on your wrist firmly instead. He makes the grave mistake of looking down, though, because as soon as he realizes that there’s blood caked underneath your nails and that your knuckles are stained with your own blood, Jungkook can no longer hold himself back. “Who. Hurt. You.”

Jungkook’s reflexes are slow, but the moment your bottom lip trembles in vulnerability and pure bitterness, he feels as if time has caught on to the point that it’s only your anguish that sharpens his senses.

His feelings, even.

“If I tell you, would it make a difference? If I’m considered weak, Jungkook, then that means you’re even weaker,” you scoff, eyes trained on the ground with your head low so you could muffle the tremble in your voice; not that it would make your prince any less attuned to you.

Jungkook’s eyes remain narrowed at you, breathing heavily as you only state the facts not to insult him, but to remind the both of you of your place — or whatever is left clear of it because Jungkook can’t even think straight the longer that he looks at you hurting.

“What, prince? What are you gonna do about it?” you spit as the last resort, standing up abruptly to storm off and make an escape for it just once so you’ll be free of the burden of being yourself in Jungkook’s existence, yet he doesn’t let you.

The grip that the prince has on your arm is unstable yet unyielding at the same time, as if it’s taking everything in Jungkook to remain standing despite wanting to hunch over by the unexplainable tremor that roots from his chest.

(It is taking everything in him.)

“Burn,” he utters. “I’ll burn everything.”

“You’re-…”

“Weaker than you? I know that,” Jungkook interrupts, his lips set in a straight line as he lets himself be swept by the current that is you. “All the more reason to do everything for you then.”

The young prince doesn’t even break his gaze from you once, even if his pupils are trembling and his teeth are chattering out of the sheer trepidation that comes with being scared for someone else who carries your heart with them.

He doesn’t break his gaze from you, even for the briefest second, as he fishes out his (your) handkerchief from his pocket that’s there, not because it just happens to be, but because it’s allotted for you.

To love and to be loved is to feel the sun from both sides, and Jungkook no longer wants the star to swallow him whole because he doesn’t want you to be burned.

Jungkook wants to love you all the way.

[forpiratereasons]

i found a genre of longform videos that is just 8-10 hours of someone driving around freeways during thunderstorms and i have a lot of thoughts about this but also: stede the driver who films long pov driving vids and extremely stressed ed who gets addicted to his channel

it's meditative, and it reminds ed of being in the car with his mum, driving across aotearoa. he feels like she's there with him sometimes. but the more he watches, the more he becomes aware of the driver--a sigh here, the shuffle of fabric in the seat there.

there's almost no information about him on his channel, the gentleman driver, not even a name or a pic, and ed becomes a little fixated on picking up details about him. doesn't happen often, but once or twice ed catches the driver humming a few beats before falling silent again, clearing a throat, sighing, clicking his throat like he's talking silently to himself.

once, on hour six of a ten hour vid, ed's rewarded by the view of an elegant hand reaching across the screen to grab something that must be on the dash in front of the camera. four seconds ed plays over and over.

"is there someone in the car with you while you drive?" ed asks in a comment. "or is it just you?"

the gentleman driver writes back, "just me and the open road!"

maybe it's the format that makes ed ask, the anonymity. maybe he's just half asleep. "don't you ever get lonely?"

it's days before the gentleman driver writes back again. "do you?"

ed's not got an answer for that. or, he does, but not one he's willing to face head on. he asks instead how the gentleman driver chooses his routes.

the driver doesn't get very many comments and definitely not very many questions, and soon they're having little conversations in the comments of every video. ed gets another glimpse of that elegant hand, with a big turquoise ring, freckled forearm; hears another few bars of 'here comes the sun' hummed.

then the driver does something new: he stops at a rest stop.

and he leaves the camera rolling.

ed watches in rapt fascination as the driver crosses the screen in front of the car, goes into the rest stop. blond hair, broad shoulders, floral shirt. he's actually wearing jeans for an eight hour drive which is insane, and ed gets a glimpse of his profile as he smiles. insane.

if the driver's ever stopped before, it's been very carefully edited out. maybe he forgot this one. maybe he wanted ed to see. that's delusional, ed thinks, but he still navigates to the driver's about page and pokes around until he finds an email address.

nice shirt, he sends.

oh god, the driver sends back, and the video disappears from his page half an hour later. i forgot the editing. i'm sorry if it was distracting.

no, i liked it, ed tells him. it was nice to see the man behind the steering wheel. and then, hesitating only a bit, he adds: i'm ed.

hello, the driver writes. i'm stede.

the emails go on, and on, and eventually they turn into texts too, and promises from stede to check in on his longer drives, to "call if you ever need someone to keep you awake."

"i'm supposed to be sending you to sleep," stede argues.

"i'll sleep better knowing that you're safe," ed writes back.

the next video stede posts, he lets the camera run all the way until he's pulled into a parking spot at a roadside motel just outside of denver. the camera runs one minute, then five, and any reasonable person would've turned it off by now, but ed waits until he hears, very quietly: "safe and sound, now. go to sleep. goodnight."

is it stupid, to think you can fall in love with someone after just one sentence? is it still stupid, if that one sentence repeats at the end of every new video?

then one night the phone rings. it's late, dark out, and ed knows stede was doing a drive that wouldn't have him at his next stop until nearly one in the morning. he picks up. "hello?"

"oh, ed," the voice says. "you've no idea how good you sound just now."

it's a voice he's only heard before in hums and whispers, but it doesn't matter. lots of things about love are stupid, ed decides. this isn't one of them.

stede's blown a tire. "i'm okay," he insists. "i was just hoping for some company while i wait for the tow."

"where are you?"

"middle of nowhere," stede says, but when he names the spot, it's only two hours out. ed can be there faster than a tow probably would, and there's a note of anxiety in stede's voice he doesn't much like.

he's got his shoes on and his keys in his hand before he can think twice.

stede hems and haws but in all his fussing he doesn't actually tell ed not to come, and he stays on the line while ed piles blankets in the car and as he gets behind the wheel and as he sets out on the freeway. he stays on the line and they talk until they're both creaky with exhaustion and dry air, and then they're quiet, just like in stede's videos, but together this time. then ed crests over a hill and there it is: a car pulled off to the side with its hazard lights blinking. reminds ed of a lighthouse. 'i'm here,' the lights say. 'i'm here.'

he pulls to a stop behind, starts his own hazards. the driver side door of the car opens, and then there's a leg, and a body, and there he is. stede. he's still got his phone pressed to his ear; ed can hear him breathing.

"i'm going to get out," ed says.

"okay," stede says.

it takes another long moment, watching stede stand there in the dark, waiting for him. stede, with his hair and his voice and his hands and the way the quiet in him already feels like home.

"i might kiss you," ed says.

he watches stede swallow, hard. eyes widen. "okay," he says.

ed reaches for the handle. pops the door open. puts one foot out on the pavement and looks up to meet stede's eyes as his cabin lights come on, as the car starts to ding its door-open warning.

"oh," stede says.

ed takes a step. they both still have their phones in their hands, their breathes in each other's ear. ed takes a step and takes a step until he can reach out to take stede's phone from him. press the call end button.

"hi," he says.

stede kisses him.

after that there are other, shyer hellos, and other, more awkward ones too. there are ten minutes to a 24-hour macdo drive-thru for coffee and another ten to a motel and a late night that becomes an early morning by way of conversation. there's laughter, and more kisses, and careful fingers learning the planes of each other's faces. in the morning there's breakfast and a tow truck and an invitation to a place just two hours away.

and there's a long break in updates to the gentleman driver's channel.

when he comes back, weeks later, his update schedule isn't quite as frequent, and his drives don't usually go as far. there's giggles sometimes, in the background, like there might be someone else in the car with him.

"do you miss it," ed asks. "driving the long drives?"

"no," stede says. "i found what i was looking for."

*

@ kninjaknitter also podficced this one!

[insomniac4000]

I have an idea for a fic about will! So u get invited onto the fellas or saving graces podcast and since their in the same building where will films his videos you could like bump into him and just something along those lines aha

Fellas to lovers

1517 words

Y/N felt the nerves build up with each step she took walking down the East London Street, eventually she made it and looked up at the light brick building with big windows; The Fellas Studio’s where inside were some of her favourite Youtubers and content creators. For months and years y/n had watched these people form the comfort of her own home but now, she was considered their contemporary but she had a huge case of imposter syndrome.

“Hi, I’m Y/N I’m here for The Fella’s podcast?” She said to the receptionist politely. The receptionist gave her a pass and sent her up on her way. Cal and Chip were waiting, just talking casually on the chairs when they heard footsteps on the stars and a very nervous y/n entered the room. The boys were lovely, they spent a few minutes trying to ease nerves and ran over some questions before the recording was about to start. Y/N clutched the microphone, steadying the slight shake of the hand just as Calum announced recording.

"Welcome back to The Fellas Podcast, the place where we get the most interesting people on the internet to sit down and chat. Today, we're excited to have someone who’s not just interesting but downright viral. She’s been breaking the internet with her hilarious skits, relatable content, and just that magnetic personality. Please welcome TikTok sensation, Y/N!" Freezy did the intro and y/n smiled through the nerves as much as she could.

"Thank you so much for having me, guys! I’m a huge fan of the podcast, so this is a bit surreal for me."

 "We’re excited to have you here too! First off, how does it feel to be the queen of TikTok right now? I mean, your rise has been insane—millions of followers in such a short time." Cal started off with an easy question to try and ease y/n in as much as he could.

"Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I wake up and have to remind myself that this is actually happening. It all happened so quickly, you know? I started posting just for fun, and suddenly it’s like—boom—everyone’s watching."

"Let’s talk about that ‘boom’ moment. Was there a specific video or a moment where you thought, ‘Okay, this is really taking off’?" Chip asked

"Yeah, there was one video that really kicked things off. It was a skit about dealing with overprotective parents, and I guess it just resonated with a lot of people. The comments were flooded with ‘This is literally me!’ and people tagging their friends. The video hit a million views in like 24 hours, and from there, things just snowballed."

"I remember that video! It was everywhere on my feed for days. What do you think it is about your content that connects with so many people?" Freezy added in, by this point y/n’s nerves had subsided massively, her body language relaxed more, she stopped playing with her long brown hair as much and she allowed to self to sink back on the sofa a little bit more.

"I think a lot of it is just about being relatable. I try to tap into those everyday moments that everyone experiences but maybe doesn’t talk about openly. Whether it’s dealing with awkward social situations, struggling with mental health, or just the weird quirks we all have—if I find it funny or interesting, chances are someone else will too."

"And you’re not afraid to get personal, either. You’ve shared a lot about your own life and struggles. Was that a conscious decision from the start?" Chip was now coming in with a more personal question, it was one of the ones they had shown y/n at the start so it didn’t come as a shock and she was ready to answer it.

"At first, not really. I was just making content that felt natural to me. But as I started getting more followers, I realized that people appreciated that openness. I think it helps people feel less alone when they see someone else going through the same things they are. It’s therapeutic in a way, for both me and my audience."

"Has that openness ever backfired? We all know the internet can be a brutal place sometimes." Cal already knew the answer to this question, it was something all content creators needed to know how to toe the line.

"Oh, for sure. I’ve had my share of trolls and negative comments. There were times when it really got to me. But over time, I’ve developed a thicker skin. You have to, in this line of work. At the end of the day, I try to focus on the positive feedback and the amazing community that’s been built around my content."

“And you definitely have at least one massive fan in this office, apart from us a certain Mr Lenney always comes in and shows us your videos,” Chip added and as him and Cal had a little laugh about it.

“No way really?” Y/n tried to laugh along and tried to seem like she was calm and just going with the flow but on the inside her heart was beating faster, Will? That beautiful blue eyed boy who’s content she had been watching for years? He liked her stuff?

“He’s also single now so feel free to drop downstairs to his office once you’ve finished here, I bet he’ll go wild! Anyway enough about the lanky Geordie idiot what does the future hold for Y/N? Are you sticking with TikTok, or do you have other plans in the works?" Chip asked, y/n was grateful that the conversation had changed now, although she was now thinking some thoughts about that Geordie male that she could never talk about in public.

"I’ll always have a love for TikTok, but I definitely want to branch out. I’m working on a YouTube channel right now, and I’ve been talking to some brands about collaborations. Maybe even a podcast—who knows? The possibilities are endless, and I’m excited to see where this journey takes me."

"That’s awesome! We’re sure whatever you do next is going to be huge. Before we wrap up, any advice for aspiring creators out there?" Cal asked as the podcast was about to wrap up.

"My biggest advice is just to be yourself. Don’t try to imitate what’s already out there. People are drawn to authenticity, so find what makes you unique and run with it. And most importantly, have fun with it, if you’re not enjoying what you’re doing, it’s not worth it."

"Wise words! Thanks so much for joining us today, Y/N. It’s been a blast having you on." Chip smiled

"Thanks for having me, guys! This was a lot of fun."

"And to all our listeners, make sure you’re following Y/N on TikTok if you aren’t already and keep an eye out for her next big move. Until next time, take care!" Cal signed off the Podcast and once the recording has stopped y/n exhaled a deep breath.

“You did really well, you should be proud of yourself,” Cal smiled giving y/n a small hug.

“Thank you so much, I’ve never done a Podcast before and I was really nervous but you two made me feel really welcome so thank you,” y/n told both of the boys sincerely. There was a little small talk but then Chip and Freezy needed to leave as they had a meeting. Y/N thanked them again and made her way downstairs, she momentarily paused remembering what The Fella’s had to say about a certain someone. She continued down the stairs, pulling out her phone ready film a TikTok when she felt her body collide with something.

“Oh my God I’m sorry,” y/n cried as she looked up and saw a male, dressed in all black, a mullet on top of his head, smile on his face and an iced coffee in his hand, it was him.

“No harm done. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his northern accent thick, as if often got when he was excited.

“Oh I’ve just filmed a Podcast for the fellas. I’m Y/N,”

“Oh I know who you are,” Will’s smile got even bigger, y/n tried to push back a blush.

“I just didn’t want you to think there’s a weird fan running around all of your offices,” y/n joked. Will sipped his coffee slightly smiling.

“No, I know who you are. Hopefully the guys were nice to you?”

“Oh they were, they erm…” y/n hesitated for a moment to think about if you wanted to say the next bit but there was a spark in her which told her to go for it. “They said you might be a bit of a fan?” y/n asked cheekily, biting her bottom lip slightly with a smile. Will sighed.

“Those fuckin’ morons. I do enjoy your TikTok’ yes.”

“It’s okay, I’ve been known to binge your videos too. And not for James,” y/n added. Will’s eyes sparkled.

“Well that’s new. Say, what are you doing now?” Will asked, his smiled dropped a little bit and he started to play around with the straw in his drink, y/n shook her head.

“Nothing really.”

“Fancy joining me for a coffee?” Will asked, trying to steady his voice, he was doing a good job of it, he looked very calm and cool. Y/N smiled, her heart beating out of her chest.

“I’d love to.”

[nicksbestie]

Hey! If it’s not too much to ask, could you write a fic where Matt is a little bit tried to hide that he’s slipped from his partner (I don’t mind female or gender neutral :))? Thank you angel 💜💜💜

Hiding - M. Sturniolo

Summary : Despite being incredibly loved and supported, your boyfriend still struggles a lot with anxiety about how he chooses to cope. Good thing you can always tell when he needs you <3

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

Warnings : mentions of anxiety, worrying

Word Count : 1124

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

Your boyfriend was the sweetest person that you had ever met. You had never met someone who was so genuinely kind hearted, despite everything that they had dealt with and been through, and you considered yourself so incredibly lucky to have such a darling person in your life, especially being your partner. He dealt with a lot in his life, especially now that he was a public figure, and you knew that could become incredibly difficult for him. It often showed in his time off of the camera, as his job was not stress free. His anxiety could often be uncontrollable, and it was something that he had struggled with for his entire life. 

He had been through so many coping mechanisms in his life, desperately trying to find something that would ease his worries, and it took him a long time to find something comfortable for him. He took a while before he even told you about it, a little worried and afraid that he would be judged by you, despite knowing that you loved him unconditionally. When he finally told you that he had chosen regression as a coping mechanism, you comforted him with open arms, telling him that you were insanely proud of him, knowing that it had been difficult to overcome the anxiety swelling in his mind to just tell you about it. 

Matt was the sweetest little, his age falling around the toddler range, and he was the most gentle baby you’d ever taken care of. He was quiet, fairly introverted, and extremely cuddly. He was a very loving little one, and he was nearly always happy while he was in headspace. He’s a cute baby, but sometimes, his anxiety follows him into his littlespace. Every now and then, it really got to him, and he was even more attached to you, terrified of the world, trusting you to take care of him and keep him safe. Because of this anxiety sometimes getting to him, during these days, he often fought his regression, feeling extremely self conscious about it, but you were always there to help him relax. 

Today was clearly one of those days. You had noticed that Matt had been picking at his nails a lot, his eyes always darting back and forth, and his body just generally screamed that he was anxious. You had done everything you could to help that day, hugging him lots, texting and telling him lots of words of encouragement, making sure that you were never far from him just in case he needed you. You didn’t know what had caused today to be such a bad day, but it was entirely possible that it was simply just one of those days. Anxiety can be unpredictable, and maybe he had just woken up unlucky today. You were supportive throughout the entire day, ignoring the nagging feeling in your chest, knowing that Matt hadn’t had time to regress in multiple days now. 

When he had to go many days without his form of stress relief, it often caused his anxiety to get a lot worse. You had a feeling that he really needed to have little time, but it was clear that he was busy today. He had a lot to do for filming videos, brand collabs, getting set up to film the next podcast episodes, and he had nearly been working nonstop for the past week. You knew deep down that he needed to relax, but you unfortunately had to wait and support him through the day first. The day continued, they finished filming a car video, and the second that Matt pulled into the garage, you immediately went downstairs to check on him. Nick and Chris thundered out of the car, laughing about some stupid joke, not noticing how Matt threw his head back into the seat, eyes closing, and a deep sigh leaving his lips, before putting his head in his hands. 

You hurriedly opened the door, helping him out of the car and pulling him into a deep hug, helping him walk back up the stairs. His exhaustion was written all over his face, and you could feel it as he let you carry half of his weight. You helped him change into more comfortable clothing, and he immediately threw himself down on the bed, curling up into you when you laid down next to him. You wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his back and running a hand through his hair, gently whispering comforts and praise, noticing the way he slowly went completely silent. You let him lay there in quiet for a while, hugging him, and softly kissing his forehead before speaking. 

“Are you okay, honey?” 

He simply nodded into your chest, not answering, and you had a suspicion that he was slipping, and trying to hide the fact that he was feeling little. You didn’t want to pressure him, wanting to give him the space to tell you himself, but you didn’t think he was going to do that tonight, so you spoke again. 

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m here if you need me, alright bubba?” 

Before you knew it, loud sobs were filling the room, Matt hugging you tighter and attempting to make himself appear smaller, clearly feeling immense levels of fear and embarrassment. Your eyes softened, continuing to comfort him while he cried. 

“Oh, angel. Deep breaths, baby, you’re safe. You’re going to be okay, my love, I’ve got you. Nothing to worry about anymore, honey, I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of.” 

It seemed to only make him cry harder, unable to speak to save his life, simply clinging to you and crying out all of his frustrations into the person he trusted with his life, his most vulnerable headspace. You reassured him, whispering sweet nothings to him while he cried it out, slowly stopping the tears, hiccuping a little bit, and if he wasn’t so sad, you would’ve found it so cute. You gently wiped his tears away, pressing little kisses to his forehead and cheeks, keeping him in your arms so he felt encased, but in the safest possible way. When he cried this hard, and had this bad of a day, he always cried himself right into a nap, and you were patiently expecting it. 

You knew he needed the rest, and you kept him held close to your body, his stuffed animal clutched in his arms, tears drying, and slowly yawning. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep against you, face flushed, and you held him as he slept, knowing that no matter what mood he was in when he woke up, you would always be here to take care of him, and he didn’t have to hide.

~ taglist : @blahbel668 @strnilo @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!

[nztsume]

• waiting for the big twenty-five •

homelander x you

{“Only one more year till the big 25. Aren’t you excited?”

This piqued at his curiosity. “What’s the big 25?”

“It’s when your brain finishes developing.”, you replied, remembering the information from back in the day, when you were still trying to get your Psychology’s degree. “Your frontal cortex- the one in charge of your personality and all- it stops growing at around 25 years old.}

Even if you’re just kind of a glorified baby-sitter, you just want to see him happy - instead, you accidentally make him worse.

read on ao3

------

Hi yall!!! The voices won and I finally ended up starting to write the young homelander fic of my dreams where we find out how he ended up being the deranged insecure insane man we know and love!!

In this one, you're Madelyn Stilwell's niece who works at Vought- and have striken an unexpected soft spot for the company’s latest investment- this insecure, shy but sweet young hero called Homelander.

Enjoy!

• 1 •

July, 2005

Every single day, at exactly 5.30 a.m., Homelander was to be awoken by the smell of coffee on his kitchen table. The coffee had to be fresh, beans grinded that same morning, no sugar, no milk, no exceptions. To accompany it, he was to have his pills: two of creatin– for muscle growth, three of protein- to feed them, a weight gainer– so he would stop being so lanky, and an extra dose of vitamin D, to fight those pesky pimples guys his age still got sometimes. All of them should be in a small container, so he could swallow them at once with his first gulp.

Next to his coffee and his pills, he was to have a folder with any relevant document for the day- interviewer’s questions and the answers he was to give, profiles of important people he would meet, scripts for any ad he was to film. All of that, including his schedule for the day- except that was to be read to him by you. This is how Maddie had told you it had to be done, and how you’d done it since day one.

You looked at your wrist watch, holding his coffee on your hand- piping hot, just how you knew he liked it-  and you yawned, watching the thinnest clock hand go round it, as the last minute before you could walk into his apartment went by. 

Finally, it was 5.25, and you could already walk in- so you did. 

You weren’t exactly his maid- he had several of those, but none of them were to do anything to his apartment whenever he was around. He wasn’t to have much contact with the normal civilians, the normies- as Maddie called them. You preferred to reserve your opinions at that- your aunt had changed a lot since she had started working here. 

What you were was Maddie’s secretary- and Maddie was Mr. Edgar’s secretary- or something. There was a fancier title for that, but you couldn’t recall it. All you knew was that she was aiming for vice-CEO or something, as it was the only thing she talked about whenever she dragged you to a bar after office hours, and insisted on drinking glass after glass of whisky.

As you finished setting things up, you appreciated the result- his cup of coffee, his pills, his documents and ah, a special surprise. One big, obscene chocolate cupcake, the kind where the chocolate topping is so rich that it spills and drips all over, with one beautiful strawberry on top, and next to it, one single candle. You weren’t sure if chocolate was his favorite, but you knew he had a bit of a sweet tooth- so he’d appreciate it, at least some. 

Finally, you took out your red lighter and lit the candle- and less than twenty seconds later, you looked up- and there he was. 

"Good morning, John.”, you put the lighter back on your blazer’s pocket, smiling at him. 

He blinked- eyes still not fully alert, as he scratched them. They were boring holes into the chocolate cupcake, and you couldn’t help to smirk a little- you knew he’d be interested in it. 

“Is that for me?”, he asked, surprised, almost like a child- and you laughed. Ever since you’d met him, about five or six months ago now, you’d felt like he was younger than his actual age- there was something about the way he stood in the middle of his own massive penthouse, like a kid lost in a big, elegant furniture showroom. Alone, quiet and shy, even when wearing his own super suit. It didn’t help that it was actually way too big for one person, with its tall, tall roofs, marble everything and sleek furniture- much less for an overworked twenty-something with no time for a social life.  

“Of course.”, you assured him. “It’s your birthday after all, right? Happy 24th!”

He pressed his lips awkwardly, trying to contain a smile- but that didn’t work, as he let out a laugh, and finally came to the kitchen island, almost a skip on his step. You couldn’t help to be glad- finally this kid was getting some happiness in him.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.”, you said, sarcastically, as he went to town on the cupcake, taking big bites out of it. He stopped for a second mid-bite, mouth full of chocolate, to look at you with a smile- and there was a gleeful glint in his eyes. Actually, that was enough of a thank for you. Anything that made that perpetual sadness that he always seemed to hold go away, even for just a few minutes, was worth it. You laughed at him. “Okay- just go for it. But don’t forget your pills!” 

“I can’t believe it- this tastes so good!”, he finally said, after taking another bite- in less than thirty seconds he had eaten half of it. Unbelievable! “Best birthday gift ever!”

“Oh- shush.”, you crossed your arms, leaning back against the counter, watching him take a big gulp of coffee. “Just wait until you see what Maddie has gotten you- it’ll blow your mind.”

“I don’t think it’ll be better than having chocolate as breakfast.”- he set the last bite of the cupcake aside, finally taking the pill container, and eyeing them with disgust. You sighed- perhaps if they let the kid eat his breakfast he wouldn’t need those nasty pills- it wasn’t like he wasn’t going to burn it off in the training center literally thirty minutes later. You didn’t know much about supe genetics, but they couldn’t be too different from normal people’s, right?

You yawned again, this time covering your mouth to the side, as you let him have the rest of the cupcake and his coffee. You liked to give him some minutes of silence so he could enjoy it properly- you knew that that’s how you liked it when you had yours.

This morning in particular, you just wished you had gotten to drink your coffee alone- but your fiance was just arriving from a shift at the E.R., and you had to deal with his graphic description of a dick that had been cut in half by a broken wine glass. You were still trying to forget about it. At least you lived close enough to Vought- just a ten minute subway trip away - so you didn’t have to wake up much earlier than that. It was just lucky you knew how to do your make-up on the move, another time-saving skill you’d learnt in your college years. 

You heard him drinking the last of his coffee- doing that big slurp noise he always did, and you finally decided to take the document with his schedule- ready to tell him about his day. 

He was tired -he always was, but today he seemed particularly so, even behind the hint of a smile the cupcake had left him with. You could tell by his posture under those cheesy button up burgundy silk pajamas, shoulders too slumped, hips rested against the counter. You weren’t surprised- according to Maddie, ever since they’d debuted him close to two years ago to the public, he’d been worked non-stop. It was only time until he broke, you thought- but you could never say it to her. Your aunt had always been too good at pushing people further than they could reach, and too good at seeing only ahead of her; John was just another one of her subjects. 

“Alright”, you finally said, seeing the subtle move of his shoulders straightening at your voice, ��Ready to hear about your day, birthday boy?”

He groaned in response, the hint of his smile completely being wiped away, “I guess…”

You pressed a smile for him, but mentally frowned reading over his schedule- he was packed, of course. “What’s that? Not excited about being 24?”, they’d even put an interview right after his birthday celebration- his 1 hour long birthday celebration. They as in Maddie and Mr. Edgar. “Only one more year till the big 25. Aren’t you excited?”

This piqued at his curiosity. “What’s the big 25?”

“It’s when your brain finishes developing.”, you replied, remembering the information from back in the day, when you were still trying to get your Psychology’s degree. “Your frontal cortex- the one in charge of your personality and all- it stops growing at around 25 years old. So you get only one more year of acting like a dumbass without people holding it against you.”, you added that last one joke to make him laugh- it worked. He wasn’t used to people throwing curse words around him. “Congrats!” 

“Just one more year, huh?”, he said, more seriously than you expected. “That’s kind of sad.”

“No way- it’s great.” you shook your head, “After 25… it’s like your brain rewires. You’re not embarrassed anymore, you get some self-esteem back from when you were a kid.”, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, remembering how stupidly shy you were back when you were his age. It wasn’t that long ago, really, just four years- but it felt like another lifetime, somehow. “10 out of 10, if you ask me. Anyway–”, you gave one more sigh, before turning your attention back to him, “Let me tell you about your day. So- it officially starts at 9.10 where you- oh. I didn’t know this. You’re getting a new suit!”

His eyebrows rose, “I thought that wasn’t until September.” 

“Hmm, maybe they wanted to launch it at today’s park inauguration for your birthday- which is at around 11.30, by the way. So you get your suit fitted and all, then it’s an one hour drive, and then the inauguration. After that, lunch, and after…”, she frowned. “You have to have tea with- with Margaret Pataki and her friends ...?” , no way they were making the kid spend his birthday with a bunch of rich old ladies that wanted to get in his pants. You couldn’t believe Maddie. What in the world could have they offered your aunt to get the privilege of The Homelander’ s time on his birthday? Unbelievable.  You huffed. “Well… too bad you have your weekly marketing meeting. You’ll have to miss it.”

“I thought that wasn’t until Thursday.”, he frowned, but there was a hint of relief behind his confusion. 

“It’s not-”, you shot a look at him, “But you should get to rest for a couple hours on your birthday, don’t ya?”, you winked at him- and then moved on, before he could protest any further. Better not to think about it too much, or you’d get extremely mad at your aunt. “And then… your birthday celebration!”

“You’re coming, right?”

You looked up from the paper, surprised at his sudden intensity as he cut you off. You found those crystal blue eyes boring at you- like you were another cupcake, expectating of your reply.

“ ‘Course.”, you simply smiled- surprisingly secretly pleased. You liked him- he was a nice guy, behind all the pizzazz that Vought put him through in front of the cameras. Perhaps too nice, in your opinion- there was some trauma somewhere in there, you could tell. But you didn’t weren’t close enough to him to recommend therapy or something, although you had suggested it to Maddie… who obviously shrieked at the thought of their golden child going to the shrink. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Johnny.” 

“Thank god-”, he sighed, rolling his eyes in sass, “If I have to deal with Stan or Madelyn or any of the other old farts there by myself, I’ll laser my own foot.” 

This made you laugh. It always surprised you whenever he showed a bit of bite, as it seemed like whenever he was with Maddie or Edgar, he seemed like the best behaved pupil in the boarding school- and whenever he was in front of the public, he was an absolute boy-scout. “Oh- come on. I’m sure Noir’s gonna be there too. I’m not your only friend here, you know?” She hoped so, at least. John seemed to like Black Noir, although his presence in the Vought building was far and apart, since they hadn’t officially re-debuted him under the company’s name yet.

He shot you one last skeptical look before taking the folder with the rest of the documents- this was your dismissal, and you took it. It was ten to six, and he had to be in the training center soon. 

“Anyway- I’ll take my leave. Maddie’s probably sent me my tasks for the day already.”, you heard a low distracted hum coming from him, already walking to the door. Before you left, you peeked at him one last time, before saying: “Happy birthday.”

He looked up just as you waved, and there was a hint of a smile in his face- good. You smiled back, and finally, slammed the door closed.

 

-

 

When you worked at Vought- more specifically, in their superhero division, every single day felt like standing in the middle of the sea during a storm- wave after wave of issues and tasks coming at you, suffocating you at times. Truth be told, you weren’t supposed to be working there- you were far too unqualified, both emotionally and academically. 

When your aunt Maddie had found out about your mother’s disease, she, of course, had refused to help her. She had always been resentful at how resentful your mom had been of her, at how she had chosen a professional life path while your mom chose to have you at just seventeen, dropping out of school to form a family. Just your average sisters’ feud, splashed with just a bit of new wave feminism and abandonment issues. However, knowing you had dropped out of college, Maddie was kind enough to offer you a job in her workplace- none other than Vought Enterprises. Big shot shit. 

She had told you that she wouldn’t make any promises, she wouldn’t work with you, and she wouldn’t slide you in with the big supes, where she worked. She had hustled her ass off to be where she was- she wouldn’t let your wormy little self run on the path she had so laboriously paved. You were okay with that- any corporation job would pay more than what you were doing in the dingy bar downtown where you’d been working since you dropped off college. Besides, you knew your aunt had never been all there- the love-hate she always showed you wasn’t personal, it was just a thing she did.

It didn’t help that you weren’t even more than seven years younger than her, so a lot of your childhood memories involved playing with her teen self. She was more a cousin than an aunt, to be fair. So there were a lot of things you could easily let slide- her insane mood swings was one of them. You knew she meant well- behind all of her power plays and degradation.

Either way, that didn’t end up happening- you working for a less important division, like pharmacy. As soon as she suggested Mr. Edgar to give you a job he was into the idea- he liked to keep things between family. And in hindsight, it was understandable. The things that happened behind the scenes for supes weren’t half as glamorous or exciting as they seemed to be on camera.

This morning had been particularly busy, the waves of work slowly turning into a tsunami, as Homelander’s birthday was a top priority for the entire department. He was the star, after all- had been for almost three years now. He was Vought’s face and voice, their personality. The bright eyed, all-american, charming, strongest to ever exist superhero. America turned into the shape of a man. Everything they’d ever dreamed, they were training into this twenty-something-year-old. Any excuse to celebrate him was good enough for them- because it was as if they were celebrating Vought itself.

That’s why you’d been running all over New York the entire morning. The tailor had managed to mismeasure John’s shoulders, somehow, and they needed two more of the handmade eagle feather golden shapes that went… well, you didn’t know where they went. You had only gotten the gist of it, along with a brown envelope to take to the goldsmith- any goldsmith that would get them done before 11.30 a.m., when Homelander was supposed to debut his new suit to the world, to mark a new era or something.

Luckily, it was 11 sharp as you ran through Vought’s main hall’s doors, and 11.04 as you knocked the costume division’s door on the 45th floor. You were breathless, knowing that he had to be on the other side of the city, to Fort Lee in less than half an hour- although seeing how tight they were, he was probably going to fly to the inauguration. The city council had granted him his very own children’s park after he’d saved a school bus from sinking into the Hudson a month ago, and they had chosen to inaugurate it the very day of his birthday. As if he had nothing else to do on that day.

Maddie opened the door, blonde waves all over the place, breath ragged. You knew the signs, she had been yelling at someone- and you were lucky it wasn’t you. You saw a flash of dark blue somewhere in the background and you knew it was John- and your curiosity was piqued. Would the new suit be too different? At least it seemed they’d keep his colors. 

“Where are they?”, your aunt demanded.

Wordlessly, you took out a fancy necklace case out of the bag you were holding, “I had to find a different place- our goldsmith was taking too long to decide whether he could do them or in time or not.”, you explained, as she snatched it off your hands and opened to inspect them. While she did that, you subtly went on your tippy-toes, trying to catch the new suit without her knowing. “I think they look just like the mold-so…” 

“Perfect.”, she concluded, slamming it closed, and she took one look at you, with those severe eyes of hers. “Go to the 72th. They need help with the party.” 

After that, she slammed the door on your face. Oh well- you’d see it later, hopefully. 

 

—

 

The 72th was a mess- as it always was, since it was the floor where most Vought only parties were held, the ones no outsiders should know about. Before, you would have thought that that meant something sexual- perhaps some sort of massive over the top superhero and congressmen orgy, the kind conspiracy theorists would talk about- but soon you found out it was not the case. Rather- it was the kind of party where millionaires would get drunk and discuss whether bombing another South Asian country would make them profits or not. You didn’t know which of the two types of parties were worse.

This time, though, at least the purpose of the preparations was much more innocent- just a small party for every person in Homelander’s life to celebrate him and his birthday. It was kind of impressive so many people showed up, in your opinion. It was the 4th of July, after all- most everyone would choose to celebrate it with their families at the park- or even just watch the fireworks from their TV at home. Instead, about twenty or more people were there, running around with you- decorating, inflating balloons, making every cookie in the dish look beautiful and photogenic. All for him- everyone wanted him to be pleased. You were sure that as long as he was allowed to eat enough of them, he’d be just as happy. 

One thing you ended up noticing about the attendees was the variety, or more like, the lack of thereof. Most people there were some of Vought’s scientists, the ones you only knew of by their pictures on the Vought’s Best wall. You wondered what they had to do with Homelander, or if they were there just for protocol. Maybe these were the kind of people Edgar wanted him to surround himself with. Important people- people who did good for humanity. 

And no, no Black Noir to be found.

Interestingly enough, even they were helping with the organization. Perhaps they were close, you wouldn’t know. You didn’t know much about John’s past aside from what you’d figured out by yourself- and what the public knew. 

Either way, he was about to arrive, and you were to get Maddie’s gift ready for him. The box was a bit too big for it- but it needed the space, you guessed. You just wondered if the box was necessary at all. 

Somebody heard the elevator sound starting to ding up- and began shushing everyone, as they started crowding around the room, hiding the big table with the cake and different foods that they had set up in the middle of the room behind them. You, of course, didn’t want to steal any spotlight from someone who could actually be important to him, so you placed yourself to the side, excited for him to arrive. You knew he was going to love this; he loved attention- even affection, as much as he tried to hide it.

The elevator finally dinged on their floor, and the doors opened, and-...

“Happy birthday!”, everyone shouted- only for Maddie to come out, her heels clicking as she saw on her that particular face she made when she scolded someone- her words drowned by their scream. Everyone made a confused noise- wasn’t it supposed to be…?

Then- a massive spot of blue walked in- a young man with wide shoulders, an unhesitant stroll and perfectly coiffed blonde hair- clad in an imposing red and blue suit. Homelander.

You began singing Happy Birthday- loudly, completely drowning everyone’s confusion and whatever Maddie was nagging the young supe about- and everyone was super quick to join. And you had the pleasure to see John’s face go from a slight frown to a bright expression- as everyone sang for him- claps and even stomps to go with it. 

But… there was something off in his smile as he started recognizing the faces around him. You saw his eyes go through every person in the room with a strange restraint- like he was holding back something. Then- they fell on you, and they stayed there, somehow, it seemed that it made that off feeling fade off. You clapped and sang more excitedly.

“Happy birthday, dear… John-Homelan-Johnny !”, everyone laughed, as nobody quite knew how to address him, “Happy birthday to you!” 

You saw him laugh- eyes looking around in surprise at the decorations. Everything was red, white and blue- with lots of golden details, that had been your touch. They were the expensive kind, but anyone could tell they weren’t set by professionals. You thought it added a homey touch that he’d enjoy- and he did, as he quite didn’t know what to do with himself, with his hands, as everyone clapped and whistled for him. 

“Oh-!”, he finally said, “Thank you- thank you, guys!”, he was trying to play it cool, calming them awkwardly. 

After that, the short event officially started. The attendees started mingling amongst each other, coming up in groups at times to talk to John, who seemed more interested on whatever was going on on the food table. You had caught him eyeing it from time to time whenever he was left alone for a second or two, as if he was deciding whether he could have a treat or not .

Meanwhile, you were busy guarding Maddie’s gift- which was secretly the only reason you were here at all. Not by your own volition, of course- you’d obviously come to John’s party if it was up to you. But… somehow, you felt that without your aunt’s express invitation it would have created problems for you. Sometimes it felt like Maddie got insanely possessive of the kid- as if anyone could come and snatch him away from under her management and steal her progress doing that. You didn’t quite know- all you really knew is that whenever you made a small observation, offered a small detail you’d noticed about him, she responded incredibly bad.

It wasn’t too bad, though. At least you were saving yourself from awkward conversations with strangers- plus, sometimes John caught your eyes and smiled at you. He had even tried to make his way to you a couple times, always interrupted by a new group of people who called for his attention.

He looked good in his new suit, you had to admit. A far cry from the leotardish one-piece he had before- that only worked to accentuate his still teensy physique, still too skinny and lanky for what he was supposed to be Edgar’s final vision of him- this new suit was magnificent. It looked like it was a two piece, for once- which he was probably thankful for- held by a strong golden (gold?) belt, and a high collar, covering just enough of his neck to draw attention to the slight v line it formed. He had some padding, she knew that- but it was just enough, not to transform his actual size, but to accentuate it. He looked more mature, more secure in his skin, and it showed - even if just a little bit.

Either way, you could hear her gift getting more and more agitated by the minute- so it was a relief when you heard her voice loud, commanding everyone’s attention.

“Let’s open your gifts, John.” Maddie said, coming up from behind and slapping a hand on his shoulder, making him jump a little. 

The party moved to the gifts table, where a small pile laid. You dutifully took the box you’d been guarding on the corner of the room and started walking it by it with a bit of difficulty, mostly because it kept moving all over the surface- but also because it was making your nose itch.

By the time you had gotten there, John had already started opening some of his gifts. Someone got him an insanely expensive wine you knew he wasn’t even going to try, and someone else a piece of pottery. It was hard to make someone like him a gift- what could you even get someone who could have anything? Not that John ever asked for anything, though. But he could- and everyone was aware of that. Vought made sure they were.

As soon as Maddie saw you with the box, she took it from your hands and walked up to him- and the second he turned to it, his face illuminated. 

“A dog?!”, he took it from her almost immediately, sitting on the floor with it on his lap- hands fighting to open the wrapping as soon as he was settled. 

“Oh John!”, Maddie scoffed, annoyed, “You spoiled it for everyone else!”

He didn’t seem to hear her though- entranced on the unwrapping, and you couldn’t help to hold your hands together on your chest, excited with anticipation. You were sure he was going to love it.

And as soon as the little guy jumped from inside the box- you know he did.

“Oh, lord!”, he exclaimed, as the small dog started barking and twisting in his grasp- as excited to see him as he was, its tiny tail wagging so hard it was moving its entire little body with it. “Oh, my god!”

The dog, a small Jack Russel with a big, brown spot over one of his eyes, barked excitedly, and you were sure you could see John’s eyes shining with tears, sat on the floor while everyone else aww’d at them. You could tell that- for once- he had forgotten about the people around him, as he let the puppy jump on his legs, on his chest, licking his face, sat back on his hands, as if he was stopping himself from squeezing the little thing. He was happy, so happy , and the dog was too.

“I can’t believe it!”, he gasped, again, as he finally decided he needed to pet it, getting rid of the thick gloves that his new suit had, grabbing it with both hands. The puppy barked at him, tongue out, and a laugh escaped from his mouth. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve seen in my life !”

The puppy wriggled its way out of his grasp, and jumped at his face again, licking him- and everyone aww’d once again and clapped. You finally unglued your eyes from the adorable scene to your aunt- and she looked incredibly pleased with herself. You would be too, this was probably the first time you’ve seen him actively elated.

Suddenly, she was startled by something- and you saw her hand going to her blazer’s pocket, picking her cellphone in a second. As she walked away with it, you took a step closer to him- and he turned to you.

“Did you know about this!?”, he asked, incredulous, fighting against the dog’s excited licks, “I can’t believe it!”

You couldn’t help the smile on your lips as you saw him. “Obviously. I went to pick him with her!” you crossed your arms over your chest- still remembering the horrors of the testing lab you’d gone get the poor dog from. It had been a month ago, and the dog had stayed with Maddie until now, “He was not the youngest puppy in the uh- adoption center but…”

“Shush, he’s perfect.”, he interrupted you, holding it to his chest, and turning to you, “What’s his name?”

“I’m not sure actually-”, you turned towards where your aunt had left- and you saw her smiling into the phone, a small skip on her step- and you knew that body language. She was sucking up to someone on the other end of the line. “We could ask Maddie if she named him when she comes back.”

But as you said that, Maddie actually came back- almost running in the short steps her heels allowed.

“Let's get this over with”, she whispered to you, as she walked by you taking over the center of the small round that Had formed around him, “Hey, everyone! Let's cut the cake!”

Everyone agreed happily- but you frowned, running to follow her as she went to the food table, already starting to make space for it. You knew that this was supposed to come at the end of the party, but not even half an hour had gone by yet- what was she doing?

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw John's eyes shoot from you to her to Edgar, as he as well tried to figure out what was going on.

“Maddie-”

“Seems like his birthday interview got delayed a couple hours”, she whispered to you excitedly, almost like a secret, “Guess who'll get to make up for his fatal mistake of not seeing Mrs. Pataki and her friends!”

A sense of disgust immediately took over your stomach, as you realized why she was so happy. She was making John spend time with those women after all- she was going to get him to butter them up for Vought On his own fucking birthday. 

“Go help with the cake.”

You felt sick.

Behind you, you heard John approach and Madelyn’s arm immediately shoot to get a hold of his forearm and guide him to the center of the table, the dog still in his arms.

Suddenly, a lot of things started happening simultaneously. Edgar was on the scene now, - a cameraman that you’d seen wandering about the event next to him - finally caring about this party at all, as he seemed to be giving him directions about how to encapsulate the happy event. 

Maddie, on the other hand, stood next to Homelander- whose eyes seemed far, as he heard whatever she was telling him, his lips pressing in some sort of emotion you didn’t have time to figure out, eyes looking far away from the scene unfolding. You got closer, as you started fixing the cake decorations, and got to hear some of it.

“And you'll show off your fucking new suit and tell her ‘ You like it, Margie?’ like she's the woman of your dreams, okay? She needs to go home and tell Pataki that Vought's doing great things while she considers divorcing his ass. You need to make up for the time you made her lose, John.” she was instructing right next to his ear, and he seemed more out of it by the second, “You'll be so fucking sorry to her she won't doubt for a second that you made a honest mistake with your schedule.” 

People started gathering as well- their loud chatter surrounding them like a massive beehive, buzzing so close to the table it was even starting to make you dizzy and desperate, as you fought to make one of the star decorations stay up. One of the scientists came up to you with a lighter, offering to turn the single candle on and you nodded, mindlessly as your focus kept shifting to him, and the way his gaze dissociated more and more- and you were actually worried now. You’d never seen him like this, not this badly. 

“Homelander!”, Edgar called, his serious nasal voice adding a new layer to the buzz, just like the scientist's lighter he couldn't get lit on. “Move one step to the left and turn a little, the lighting's bad there!”

“Seriously - apologize like a fucking dog, you hear?”

“Fuck”, you cursed under your breath- snatching the lighter yourself and trying- getting to turn on.

The camera started snapping- and it added another layer. A group laughed loudly in the background. Edgar kept giving needless instruction. The dog started wriggling, running out of his grasp. Madelyn kept barking into his ear.

“You'll lick her feet- and…”

And you could almost hear it before it happened. 

“Madelyn, I fucking GET it !”

The loud high sound- the sound his lasers made.

The crowd gasped, shocked- but more importantly, the dog started fucking screaming in pain.

“Oh- no!”

Someone screamed- and all hell broke loose. John ran from the table to the side- where his laser had left a dark, charred line that ended with… with the poor puppy laying on the floor, bleeding and crying. You ran after him.

“Oh no- no, no, no, no…”, he was on his knees, and you fell next to him as he whispered the words to himself, holding the poor thing as it wriggled, its loud shrieks vibrating in your ears. His hands were starting to get covered in blood, and its fur was so bloody- flesh so mangled you couldn't make sense of any of it. “No- please !”

You were speechless, shocked, and the blood was draining from your face by the second. “It was an accident!”, you were immediate to comfort him, but his eyes were glued to the animal- unable to think, to do anything, “It was an accident, John, and-and…”

You looked around- but nobody thought like you- nobody else was stepping up to comfort him. Instead, everyone stared in… fright , taking fearful steps away from the scene like he was a monster- and that made you so insanely mad.

“I-I killed him!”, he exclaimed in horror. “Oh, God, I fucking killed him!”

“ No, you didn't! ”, your hands went to his shoulders, shaking him a little as his eyes filled up with tears- and your heart was going a mile a minute, “He's crying ! He's still alive!”

“N-no, no, I-”

“John!”, Maddie’s voice shouted- and you looked up to see her walking to you, angry, as she got out of her shock, “What the hell was that?! Are you insane?! Are you retarded ?!”

He turned slightly to her, eyes full of tears and remorse and pain- and you couldn't take it anymore.

You stood up like a spring and took a step between them.

“Madelyn!”, you looked at her in the eyes, heart still drumming, “ Are you fucking serious?!”

You saw her eyes widen and her mouth fall open.

She started sputtering your name, visibly shaken. You'd never ever had spoken like this to her. She was always the one that was right, the one whose decisions just weren't questioned.

“Y-you stay out of this!”, she finally managed, and tried to push you to the side- but you slapped her hand away.

“No, I won't! Not this fucking time, Aunt Maddie.” you stood your ground, stomping a foot.

There was a rage in you burning- and you instantly realized this wasn't just about this, right now. This was a rage that had been slowly burning- building up these last six months as you'd witnessed how they treated this kid, how they exploited every single second of his time. How tight his leash was. How simply sad and alone he looked all the time.

It had been burning since your mother had been diagnosed with that heart condition- and how ironically heartless her sister had been to her. How she'd offered you the job the same way someone offers leftovers to a starving stray dog, and how you had to swallow your dignity and take them.

It had been burning, you'd even say, after the first day Maddie had started this fucking job, and how she blew you off when you went to her apartment with a cake you'd made her to celebrate it- saying she had coworkers over and she couldn't deal with a child like you here, too, as if they were too important for you to even see them.

She growled your name one last time, “You're about to lose your job.”

“Then fucking do it, Maddie.”, you hissed back, feeling venom in your voice, “Fire me. Fire me! Who wants to work in a company that depends on how much they can exploit some twenty-year-old, anyway? Oh, but the second he makes one mistake you all look at him like he's a monster, right?!”

You couldn't help to turn around, including everyone in your rant now- every single person that was important in John’s life, who was looking at him like he was going to laser them next. Him, who was still holding onto the crying puppy, hands drenched in his blood.

“Don't look at him like that! God- look at him ! He didn't do it on purpose! You all pushed him to do it!”

You felt frustration building in you- as your eyes started to burn as well, angry. No, you couldn't let yourself cry, you needed to speak up!

You saw Maddie about to say something else when someone took a step forward- Mr. Edgar.

“Okay, okay everyone…” he had his hands raised up, voice infuriatingly calming and imposing. “Let’s calm down. You-”, he pointed at a random woman, who jumped at his calling, “Take the dog to the fifteenth, there must be a vet somewhere there.”

The woman quickly stepped forward- a middle aged with a messy bun hanging off of her head- arms in front of her, ready to take the still wailing dog from John while putting the most distance from him she could. Your eyes followed the movement as he extended the creature to her- his hands still shaking. For some reason, as this happened, you felt absolutely insane- like you were some schizoid character In a movie, and everyone else was just watching your crazy rants unfold. 

“And you- miss… Stilwell?”, he continued, turning to you- and as you shook your head (you didn't share your aunt’s last name, thank you ), he held a hand up, like he didn't actually care about that, “Why don't you take Homelander here home? He's still a bit shaken.”

And you're the only one here not afraid of his lasers, seemed to be the tacit rest of his request. 

At that, you stood straighter, facing him as a bitter bile pooled in your throat - desperate to keep jawing off about all you've been keeping, seeing these last months, about every single thing that they'd knowingly been doing to him- but you held back for him. Edgar was right, he needed to get away from this,  he needed some peace- and perhaps not to have to spend his birthday with some old lady who would be pawing at him all night. 

You swallowed it and nodded at him, chest still out and shoulders squared, like you were a shield and shot one last look at Maddie.

She was boring holes into you- mouth in a thin line, dark blue eyes unblinking in anger, hands fisted to her sides. You knew that look, your mother had been the end of it one too many times. But unlike her, you did not relent- and Maddie should better get used to it.

Then, you simply turned, falling to a kneel once again, as you grabbed his shoulder. His eyes were on you as well, those clear blue eyes, still watery, still shaking. His hands were drenched in blood, as was the rest of his new suit- he looked so small in that moment, so scared.

“John?”, you let your voice fall into a soft tone. At your call, his eyes tuned into an emotion you couldn't quite decipher- aside from intense gratefulness, “Let’s go home.”

[tiramisuucakeee]

PASSIFLORA ★

( latina idol! reader x idol! lee heeseung )

IN WHICH: a latina debuts in a k-pop group, and lee heeseung finds himself liking everything sweet about her.

BTW: no specific country mentioned. some spanish dialogue.

DC: mi gente latino engenes. y el mejor país de chile.

read more !

having debuted in a group as a foreigner wasn’t easy, specially since y/n had a massive language and cultural barrier separating her from her members.

she was crazy talented, and learned how to go around, but the huge backlash from netizens for being different to her members, was definitely making her hold back, becoming shy, even. she did try her best to follow through with everything. though, in the privacy of her dorm room, when making live videos and interacting with online fans, she felt a bit better, being able to talk in her mother tongue with people, remembering where she was from.

sometimes it came in handy, she wouldn’t fall for spanish jokes, nor wear clothing without knowing what the print on the shirts meant. and of course, she attracted an immense amount of attention to the group, like so much.

and with that, also came along an immense amount of people that didn’t like her. because no one can ever be loved by everyone.

so when y/n’s group had to film promotional tiktoks with enhypen, she had to make sure she didn’t get too close to anyone, look at any of them, or smile too much.

which was almost impossible, seeing as this one man called lee heeseung, who was unbelievably confident this day, wanted to greet her like people do in latin america, the kiss, just a little act of kindness so that she would feel comfortable.

y/n was absolutely shocked, as everyone else in the room. it was like time froze, and the people waited for someone to say or do something. both group managers wanted to scold heeseung in that moment for getting too close, but what they didn’t expect was for her to go in for the same greeting, saying how nice it was to finally do that, to be able to greet someone like she normally would.

the situation was ignored for the time being, or at least that’s what it should have been. because on both sides of their agencies, everyone was absolutely panicking.

the girls were telling y/n how insane that was. but y/n paid no mind to it, she thought he was nice and considerate. having lived her whole life in latam before becoming a trainee and moving away, comparing what he did with how latin american boys act, heeseung barely did something, intimacy was very different in both countries. to her, this was just a friendly greeting. though her group members kept pestering her, saying it was a love confession.

on the other hand, heeseung tried to be nonchalant about it, key word, tried. he couldn’t deny feeling like he absolutely messed up. truth was, he didn’t expect his little act of kindness to make him feel some type of way about the girl.

one day, he got a weverse notification from his secret account, and started watching her live video on his computer monitor, with the door wide open, thinking he was home alone.

y/n propped he phone up on the kitchen counter, revealing most of her outfit, which was a football shirt from her country’s selection and sweatpants, before fixing the screen, pointing it towards her bare face.

soon enough, more people started to join the live, sending her love and comments. she had a big grin on her face, and her eyes lit up at that.

“hola a todos, hi everyone!” she waved at the screen, making heeseung’s heart skip a beat.

y/n proceeded to explain what she was doing in korean, with a bit of difficulty and very formally, but she tried her best. before switching back and forth between languages.

“okay, so i got this fruit,” she showed it to the camera, a yellowish type of fruit, covered in brown specs. y/n, started to crack it open, telling everyone how excited she was to try it.

“i’m really happy i found this, it’s called a granadilla and if it’s difficult to find back home, it’s even more difficult to find here. don’t tell anyone this, but i met a woman in the market, who had family living in latin america, and they told me they could get this to me,” she lifted up a plastic bag, with various of the same fruits inside, making a small smile appear in heeseung’s face at her adorable reaction.

“so, i found out we were from the same country and she was like but mi niña are you here on vacation? isn’t it school time back home? and i was like, no, no, todo bien, ya no vivo allá, i’m a singer here, and i’m not even in school anymore. si tengo como venti-tantos años, and the lady looked at me like i was crazy, i don’t know if this happens everywhere, but atleast back home, it’s really shameful if you’re not in college or school, like you are going to be a nobody if you don’t study, that’s probably why she was so shocked, and she also told me i look very young, which is a good compliment for me,” y/n laughed, finally cracking open the fruit, and then heeseung realized how quick she spoke in her native language, besides the point that he had no clue what she was talking about, which made it more interesting.

“i remember coming back home after school when i was a kid, and eating these things cold. so this would be my first one in years, ” she showed the fruit to the camera, picking the inside up with a spoon, and giving it a try, her eyes instantly widened.

“esta demasiado buena, no puede ser,” she gasped, tasting the fruit again. “guys, you have to try this someday, i swear you will like it,” she pointed at the camera.

heeseung instantly took out his phone, searching it up, all while not noticing the rest of the guys who shared dorm with him had arrived, jay, sunghoon and niki.

the youngest one went to go bother heeseung, and stopped in his tracks when he saw him grinning like a mad man at his screen, which was a weird sight, he would usually be infuriated at a video game, but he was doing anything besides that now.

“what are you doing?” niki spoke, clearly seeing y/n on the screen. the oldest one almost jumped from the surprise, and quickly shut down the monitor, trying to act normal, “nothing.”

“is that y/n?” niki squinted his eyes at him. that was when the oldest knew he had been caught, but he would never admit it.

days later, to his luck, they were bound to meet again at a music show.

backstage, heeseung couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest as he waited for her group's performance. the excitement wasn't just for the show, but because he knew he'd get to see y/n again.

he'd been thinking about that smile she gave him earlier before she went on stage. the one that made his heart race. every little interaction between the two of them had him second-guessing how he felt. was it just a crush? or was it something more?

heeseung’s attention snapped to the screen. there she was, performing with her group. and then, as the performance neared its end, y/n did her signature ending fairy, blowing a kiss toward the camera. heeseung's heart skipped. he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“did you see that?” jungwon, who was standing next to heeseung, grinned mischievously. “she just sent that flying kiss to you.”

heeseung shot him a glare, trying to ignore the way his cheeks flushed at the thought. "no, she didn't," he muttered, though he couldn't hide the slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

once the performance ended, and her group walked backstage, his eyes remained on her, watching as they all bowed to each other for courtesy.

when her eyes met his, it felt like time slowed. there was that brief moment, just a second longer than necessary, where she held his gaze. and then, she smiled at him again, a soft, almost caring smile that had heeseung's heart racing all over again. he quickly returned it, though the warmth in his chest didn’t fade.

afterward, the female group made its way to the resting room. heeseung tried to focus on his own performance, but his thoughts kept drifting to her.

meanwhile, y/n was sorting through her things when a staff member knocked on the door with a delivery.

she opened it, curious, and saw a bag marked with the word passiflora written on it.

y/n thanked the staff and opened the bag, seeing her absolute all-time favorite fruit inside. it was almost incredible, the thought of someone giving her something like this. she was sure it was for her, none of her members even knew about the existence of this fruit.

but what caught her eye the most was the small note tucked carefully beneath the fruit. she pulled it out, unfolding the paper to reveal neat handwriting.

‘ i hope they taste as sweet as you look - l.hs ’

she could practically hear his voice in her head, shy yet warm, as she imagined him scribbling those words. it made her feel strangely light, her heart a little more at ease.

liz, who had been sitting nearby, looked up from her phone with a grin. “spill it. who’s the mysterious fruit sender?”

she chuckled, tucking the note back into the bag. “it’s from him.” she replied, knowing liz would understand.

liz raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “so, what’s going on between you two, huh? you’re both sending each other hearts with your eyes, and now fruit? someone’s got a crush.”

y/n rolled her eyes, though a small laugh escaped. “it’s not like that, liz, i can’t have a crush, i can’t date.”

but before liz could say anything more, y/n’s phone buzzed. she glanced down, seeing an unknown number. with a quick glance at liz, she opened the message.

i hope you got them, and you’d like them too, it wasn’t easy finding a vendor TT

y/n felt her cheeks warm as she read the text. it was from heeseung, obviously. she quickly typed a response, a little flustered.

thanks, heeseung. you really didn’t have to, but i appreciate it

before she could even set her phone down, another message popped up.

i meant every word, and i’ve been thinking about you a lot lately

was this really happening? y/n felt a wave of excitement and a bit of nervousness at the same time. without thinking too much, she typed back quickly.

i’ve been thinking about you too. let’s talk more soon

y/n hit send and placed her phone down, trying to act casual. liz looked at her knowingly, a grin on her face as she teased, “looks like someone’s got it bad.”

she shook your head, though her smile betrayed y/n. “stop teasing, he’s just being sweet,” but even she knew that it was a lie, he wasn’t just being friendly. and if this continued, their agencies would have a field trip with the dating rumors.

EXTRA:

masterlist.

[cityofmeliora]

What do you think about Copia’s childhood? I saw your post about Terzo’s, so I started wondering. Where do you think he was raised, who do you think he was raised by, how did it contribute to who he is today?

YESSSSSS YES YES YES YES THIS IS THE ASK I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR RAAAAHHHH–

ok so first, i just wanna be clear that this post isn't gonna include anything about Cardi's twin because i'm still waiting to see what happens next in the lore before i try to write anything involving him.

with that out of the way,

like all my Ghost headcanons, my headcanons about Cardi are built on the foundation that the band Ghost lore is about 1) an evil satanic cult, and 2) a dysfunctional showbiz family from Los Angeles.

basically, i think Cardi had a very lonely childhood. and he has psychological issues caused by a lifetime of Sister Imperator's insane parenting. his anxiety in Rite Here Rite Now, about how being Papa is all he wants to do and all he thinks he could do, SCREAMS of "unethical Hollywood parent who molded her child to be a star" to me.

i do think Sister 'raised' him, or was at least present in his life since he was a child ("You'll always be my little Cardi.") and she just... didn't him she was his mom / Nihil was his dad. (i guess it's quite similar to children of catholic clergy IRL, who are sometimes raised by family but never told about their true parentage, or know the truth and are told to hide it.)

Cardi is autistic, obviously, but i also think his awkwardness is him being socially underdeveloped because he comes from an isolated cult environment. he was a weird satanic homeschool kid who almost never interacted with anyone outside the Ministry, and he was basically left to watch movies and listen to music and play video games all day. i like the idea that Cardi had dance training when he was young, though. that was probably the only time he really got to interact with others. and because he grew up in the Los Angeles area, on the occasions he did get to go out, he was always surrounded by the entertainment industry and people trying to rise to stardom.

anyway, i think this was all somewhat intentional, or at least worked in Sister Imperator's favor, to mold him into a neurotic showbiz baby in service of her evil satanic death cult. (though i don't think he cares about the cult aspect of Ghost at all. he's been in it his whole life because he didn't have a choice and has never known anything else. he really just wants to be a rock star.) growing up without the love of friends + family, Cardi filled that void with games / music / film. so... of course he wanted to be an entertainer when he grew up– that was his only avenue for human connection.

and i think Cardi kinda knew Sister Imperator was giving him special treatment and pulling strings to put him in position to become Papa, though he never understood why.

a major point in my Terzo character analysis post is that he was very ambitious and he loved being an entertainer and a showman, but he was frustrated because he wasn't allowed to express his full potential. i wrote that his mindset was "i know i'm good enough. and i could prove it if they would just let me."

and ever since i wrote that, i can't stop thinking about how Cardi feels the exact same way.

he's super talented. he's worked very hard. he's proud of his accomplishments. he's proven he's capable! but Sister Imperator doesn't respect him. she infantilizes him. she keeps the training wheels on. she doesn't want him to be capable!

Sister Imperator does not allow Cardi to have independent thoughts or make real decisions for himself. she allows him the illusion of autonomy when she needs to, but every time he shows a little bit of awareness of how fucked up his life actually is, she shuts him down to keep him under control. she purposefully hides information from him so he won't know anything she doesn't want him to know. she intrudes on his privacy because his bedroom doesn't have a door.

i think their relationship has been like this his whole life.

you can see examples of this manipulation / obfuscation throughout the Chapters, and you can see a lot of it in Rite Here Rite Now.

first off, the opening narration gives the context / background information that sometime in late 2021, when Cardi was 51 years old, he found out his two bosses are actually his parents, and his mother kept this a secret from both him and his father his whole life. which is. wild. to say the least.

(i think when he found out, he was disappointed by the realization that he got to where he is because he was secretly a nepo baby and not because he was doing a good job on his own.)

moving on. in Rite Here Rite Now, Cardi's main source of stress was that he fully believed his parents were going to murder him and then put his body on display to sell VIP tickets for his successor's concerts. this was genuine fear, and he had a legitimate reason to believe they would do that to him because they actually did that to his three older brothers! and in the later Chapters, Sister Imperator and Mr. Psaltarian were totally fucking with his head and making him think he was going to die!

he asks Sister why he can't continue being Papa for longer –because he doesn't want his parents to kill him when they're done with him– and she just brushes him off and tells him to keep playing his show. then in the Miasma scene, Cardi has a critical moment of awareness and asks what the hell is actually going on in his life and who's in control.

PAPA EMERITUS IV: One thing I do not understand… All these things… here, all of this stuff, and all of these things we're doing, where we go, and when, and to where… Who decides these things? I mean, who's calling the shots?

this is totally fair! he has a right to know this information!

in response, his parents completely avoid answering the question. they shut him down and basically tell him he sounds ungrateful for the life he has.

SISTER IMPERATOR: You waste so much time and energy worrying about what's been and what's next, who's next and whatnot. As with all things in life, it circulates. Everything that has a beginning has an ending. There just has to be an orderly transition.

she never tells him the truth. she just tells him to stop worrying. stop thinking.

they never tell him they're not going to kill him. They Never Tell Him They're Not Going To Kill Him. THEY NEVER TELL HIM THEY'RE NOT GOING TO KILL HIM.

Cardi spends the last third of the movie making peace with the idea that he is going to die soon and his parents will be the ones to kill him. after Respite On The Spitalfields, he seems resigned to his fate. he tells the Nameless Ghouls they're not doing an encore. he says "Fuck it." but Sister Imperator, still explaining nothing, tells him to do the encore and he unenthusiastically gets back on stage.

SISTER IMPERATOR: Even though you don't understand right now, sooner or later, you will know what I'm talking about. Things –events– are unavoidable. Now you go back out there and give them one hell of an encore. And that's all you have to worry about. PAPA EMERITUS IV: Okay. SISTER IMPERATOR: Off you go.

by the beginning of Square Hammer, he decides he is actually happy with the life he has and he's okay with whatever's coming. and he still expects he's going to die... only for them to totally fake him out.

Sister Imperator dies instead. in the letter she leaves him, she tells him, "My son, I'm sorry I could not find it in my heart to tell you about my condition. I was afraid you might lose your sometimes frail concentration." more obfuscation. more infantilization.

at the end of the letter, she promotes him to head of the Clergy. he takes on his new job assignment as Frater Imperator and he seems to think he'll have more power now that Sister Imperator is "not in charge anymore." i'm not so sure about that.

and this isn't even getting into all the other weird shit going on between them in that movie! why was Cardi literally unable to see her wheelchair and medicine until the Spoksonat scene? why couldn't he remember his twin brother who he spent time with as a child? either Cardi is even more mentally unwell than we know, or Sister is messing with his head in even more ways than we know. maybe both. probably both.

i do believe Sister Imperator loves Cardi. that does not negate the fact that she is also manipulative and dishonest and has no respect for him, and that made her a terrible parent. she caused him a lifetime of unnecessary confusion and suffering in furtherance of her goals. yes, he is often childish and irresponsible. but i think the way she treated him didn't allow him to mature on his own.

the worst part about all this? i think he's convinced himself that he loves her, too. (he doesn't actually know how to feel about her. it would be too painful to think about.)

in summary, to me, Cardi's life is like The Truman Show, except it's the bad ending where the producer (Sister Imperator) successfully convinces him to stay in the bubble.

this was supposed to be a headcanons post and it totally turned into an analysis post, but i cannot help it. i just love Cardi so fucking much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I JUST WANT CARDI TO BE SAFE AND HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

btw i think his actual legal given name is Cardinal Copia Imperator. yeah. i believe Sister Imperator actually named him that.

[animeomegas]

Headcanons for Dabi and Todoroki (separate) with a super loving and sappy Alpha? Snuggling him whenever they can, making him breakfast in bed, absolutely disgustingly cute compliments, getting him a gift or at least some candy once week. Just a total simp.

Aww, this ask is just too cute!! <33 I live for alpha being a complete simp for their omega. Enjoy~

WHEN THEIR ALPHA IS A COMPLETE SIMP

Dabi has a lot of conflicting emotions about an alpha like this, and it's definitely a journey for him.

At first he thinks you're making fun of him.

Then he thinks that you're a bit pathetic tbh.

And finally, when you refuse to give up, he decides you're totally insane to be so smitten with him. He really has no idea how or why.

Eventually he just accepts that you're weird and lets you get on with it.

Of course, he finds himself slipping into loving the constant positivity and adoration, slowly but surely.

He comes back from a running some villainous errands one day, and he's aching and sore and his mind starts wandering, wondering what you're going to have set up for him.

A hot bath? A lovely homecooked meal? Pizza and a film?

He starts trying to guess, until it suddenly hits him.

Oh.

He's being spoiled by an alpha who has made their desire to mate with him very, very clear, and...

He likes it. He's used to it. He doesn't want it to end.

Oh no.

He almost turns around a books it, but then he thinks about how sad and worried you'd be if he didn't go home, and shit, he's got it bad.

He opens the door slowly. He doesn't know why he can fight heroes, steal from banks and literally murder people just fine, but suddenly opening this door has his heart beating out of his chest. What's wrong with him?

He's greeted immediately with the sight of you cuddled up on the sofa with a pile of blankets and a bowl of fresh popcorn. Popcorn and a film, that's what you had planned. He was close.

Your face lit up as he came in, your beautiful smile directed to him and only him. He felt the urge to crawl into the blankets with you, and he definitely needed to get a grip on that. He'd never felt safe enough to nest before, but you were ruining everything.

"Dabi! Welcome home! I missed you so much," you said. How disgustingly domestic.

"Yeah, I'm back," he said lamely.

"I can see that. Here" -you pat the space on the sofa next to you- "I've picked out that new comedy you wanted to see. Come watch it, unless you need to shower or change first?"

Dabi shook his head, mouth dry, "No, I'm good."

"Great! Come on then!"

He blindly obeyed. This was not part of his plan, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't feel angry about it.

At first, Todoroki is so confused. And a little embarrassed.

Why are you doing so much for him?

He knows you're in a relationship and that people do things like that sometimes, but you just seems so happy when you're doing things for him?

Is he doing enough for you? He doesn't know.

But this only lasts for a few weeks, or as long as it takes for you or Midoriya to encourage him to embrace being in a healthy, loving relationship, and then he embraces it whole-heartedly!

And it unlocks a (cute) monster.

Todoroki lives to be pampered.

You could definitely use 'my prince' as a pet name, because it absolutely fits him.

He basks in the genuine and constant affection. It makes him feel fuzzy and warm, and he's always reaching out for you.

He quickly turns from the kind of omega who only holds hands in private, to the kind that always wants to sit on your lap and fall asleep on your shoulder, no matter where he is or who is watching.

If you bring him breakfast in bed, or stroke his hair, or bring him gifts for no reason, you get that beautiful little smile from him every time.

He engages spoilt cat mode very quickly.

Todoroki is cuddly, you just have to introduce him to it and then he never gets enough.

Please cuddle him, stroke his hair, buy him soft clothes, cook him dinner, it makes him so content and happy.

At first, Todoroki is so confused. And a little embarrassed.

Why are you doing so much for him?

He knows you're in a relationship and that people do things like that sometimes, but you just seems so happy when you're doing things for him?

Is he doing enough for you? He doesn't know.

But this only lasts for a few weeks, or as long as it takes for you or Midoriya to encourage him to embrace being in a healthy, loving relationship, and then he embraces it whole-heartedly!

And it unlocks a (cute) monster.

Todoroki lives to be pampered.

You could definitely use 'my prince' as a pet name, because it absolutely fits him.

He basks in the genuine and constant affection. It makes him feel fuzzy and warm, and he's always reaching out for you.

He quickly turns from the kind of omega who only holds hands in private, to the kind that always wants to sit on your lap and fall asleep on your shoulder, no matter where he is or who is watching.

If you bring him breakfast in bed, or stroke his hair, or bring him gifts for no reason, you get that beautiful little smile from him every time.

He engages spoilt cat mode very quickly.

Todoroki is very cuddly, you just have to introduce him to it and then he never gets enough.

Please cuddle him, stroke his hair, buy him soft clothes, cook him dinner, it makes him so content and happy.

"I'm home!" you called out as you pushed open the door, carefully manoeuvring the little shopping bag you had clutched in your hand. A smile automatically bloomed on your face as you heard the tell tale sign of Shouto coming to greet you. The sound of his socked feet padding along the floor was just too cute.

"Alpha!"

"My darling boy," you cooed as Todoroki's smiling face came around the corner to greet you. You opened up your arms and he ran into them, squeezing you tightly and nuzzling his face into your shoulder. "How was your day? You must have got back from patrol about an hour ago, right?"

Shouto pulled away and pouted, "You weren't here when I got back."

"I'm sorry," you said, pressing a kiss to his nose and watching as his pout melted away. "I went past that new bakery and I couldn't resist getting you a little something."

Shouto's eyes focused on the little bag in your hand for a moment before taking your hand and bringing you through to the kitchen. You placed the bag on the counter and gently pulled out the box of macarons. The box was half red (strawberry, red velvet, and cherry) and half white (coconut, white chocolate, and cookies and cream). He opened the box slowly, eyes wide.

"They look amazing," he said breathlessly. "Half red and half white?"

"There's nothing as pretty in my opinion," you cooed, ruffling his hair. His little smile lit up the room.

Shouto picked up one of the cherry ones and fiddled around with it for a moment. Taking the hint, you took the macaron from him and held it up to his mouth.

"Open wide, darling."

[heartmaddie]

parfum d'étoiles | k.akaashi

introductions; the miseducation of bokuakakurotsukkiken

⋆｡°✩ keiji akaashi

he loves 'all about lily chou chou' and 'neon genesis evangelion' , a bit of a loser but it's commonly understood across the campus that he's quite attractive. keiji wears thrifted, archival fashion, but also buys modern clothing - doesn't indulge in fast fashion. he wears women's pants that he thrifts and he shares clothes with tsukishima a lot but they're sometimes baggy on him. he used to drink a lot of coffee, but switched to genmaicha right before university started. has a dog named pochi , breed is undecided (akaashi likes cats too but his mom likes dogs). he really likes kiyoko's sense of style and buys from her depop often - also is a deep reader and helps tsukishima with his booktok account.

⋆｡°✩ kei tsukishima

he made a booktok account as a joke to clown on colleen hoover but then blew up (i think of daniel yeo when i think of tsuki as a creator), he's just been posting occasionally since then but has a nice following he enjoys interacting with. tsukishima is a big fan of cable knit sweats and corduroy pants, he dresses quite casually but owns a couple of more expensive pieces, all thrifted not made to wear. even though he doesn't care about his own fashion, he loves buying the photography archives of fashion designers and looks through them often. he likes chai lattes or oolong tea. he likes a range of music, but focuses on radiohead the most. he hates a lot of mainstream booktok books , colleen hoover, icebreaker etc, but also hates murakami , dazai and bukowski.

⋆｡°✩ tetsuro kuroo

he's kind of cool if you try to forget the fact that he actively tries so seem cooler. suffers from soo much fomo it's actual insanity (based off of one of my irls). he loves r&b , the REALEST ms lauryn hill fan, but has a wide range of music taste as well. he's the glue in this group chat and it would be dead if it wasn't him and bokuto spamming it all the time. he loves croissants and old libraries even if he doesn't read, he likes the ambience while he's catching up on his university lectures. he skips all of them (self indulgent). he changes his bio on twitter every 25 minutes and it's just the captions of tiktoks he giggled from - it's abhorred. i think a lot of people look at him from afar because he's quite attractive but his aura is so intimidating that no one goes up to him..

⋆｡°✩ kotaro bokuto

bokuto is a very rowdy and energetic person, which is why he's perfect to be akaashi's best friend! he struggles a bit with being too pushy. especially with akaashi who he sometimes forces to do things he doesn't want to do. he's sort of slow and unaware, but he means the best for everybody. he has no opps. he unironically plays roblox (uses his younger cousins as an excuse but actually loves it) and his favourite games are dress to impress and gym simulator. unlike akaashi, bokuto stayed friends with yn after high school ended but just doesn't talk to her as often - him and yn were never as close as akaashi and yn. bokuto really likes cheese, especially gouda, but also flightless birds.

⋆｡°✩ kenma kozume

kenma is winning every single idgaf war on the entire planet, i'm not even kidding. (but on a more serious note, he does look out for his friends in his own special way). he loves any sort of energy drink, and his favourite food is tiramisu because it wakes him right up and he likes mascarpone. he strictly wears uniqlo airism shirts and rotates through 4 different pairs of pants (jeans, gray sweatpants, black sweatpants and jorts). he likes to stay home and watch films with akaashi, play different games with bokuto and have long conversations with tsukishima. he's closest to kuroo because they live together. bokuto and akaashi live together too and kei lives alone but everyone meets up there anyways. he doesn't use twitter too often.

please consider liking , reblogging or following if you enjoyed send an ask or reply to the masterlist if you'd like to be on the taglist :p

taglist : @akaashislovee

©heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work.

[cinematicgf]

Breaking the Girl~ 18+ dom!joel

Summary: as a casual photographer, you find the opportunity to go with your neglectful boyfriend to his hometown for the summer thrilling. Taking photos of his neighbors and friends whilst not blowing money on a huge vacation sounds perfect, a small job with his mum, neighborhood summer get-togethers and weekend beach trips accompanied by your trusty camera, why not?! But when a certain charming Southern man, known as your boyfriend’s old boss, enters the mix, you cant take your lens off the fine older man, and he cant seem to take it off you either.

Pairings: (no-outbreak) dom!joel miller x sub f!reader

Warnings and notes: 18+, smutty smutty smut, dom!joel and sub!f!reader, piv, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, doll, darling), dirty talk, drinking, swearing, oral sex (f! receiving), arguments, age gap (reader is afab! in their early 20s and Joel in in his mid-early 50s), reader in uni, bit of a praise kink ngl, boyfriend being an asshole and Joel being just as charming as ever, reader has some cunty thoughts but good for her honestly, just pure unbridled filth with a semi developed backstory<3 no use of y/n

~ 7.2k (oops)

A/N: hi all<3 I wanna thank you guys for the support of my previous Joel fic, I appreciate it so much<3 this is just a string of pure filth with limited backstory. my inbox is open for requests as usual, your feedback is always welcome and if you enjoy this fic please like, comment and reblog<3

~

She was the girl Left alone Feeling the need To make me her home

I don't know what, when or why The twilight of love had arrived

~

Summer was approaching quick and with your exams out of the way and all the stress of the last few months, the final week of university seemed kinda pointless. Yet here you were in class, daydreaming about all the things you would get up to. Perhaps you could rent a sea-side batch and spend your warm afternoons in the ocean before settling down with a book and a bottle of wine for the evenings. Or maybe, you could blow your barista allowance and go to Florida for the sweltering months. Truth is, you didn’t have any plans for the summer, and with the days counting down much too fast to comprehend, you found yourself at a loss for what to do on your break. No matter what you did, however, you know your trusty camera would be tucked to your side, film loaded in and an extra pocket in your bag to store the developed photos. Photography had been a passion of yours for as long as you could remember. You had saved up birthday and Christmas money for years in order to afford a camera for yourself and you had never gone anywhere without it. Unfortunately, the impending doom of your hobby “having no jobs”, as your father put it, meant that you had to change your uni major. Although, you had been cheeky and added in a photography paper here and there, just to satisfy yourself and to no knowledge of your father.

The sound of a backpack being thrown down next to you made you retreat from your thoughts with a jump. Your boyfriend pushed himself into a seat next to you, “So babe”, he began; god, how many times had you told him you hated being called that. “I was thinking, for the summer, you could come back home with me?” he finished. You looked at him with a frown, the last thing you wanted to do was spend another summer cooped up in a small town like the one you grew up in, the one you visited every holidays, just to be wrapped in uncomfortably tight hugs from elders commenting on, “well well, I haven’t seen you since you were this big”, making their hand level with their knees, “look at how pretty you’ve gotten, you have your mothers eyes dear, you must be so proud of her”, they would always say, giving a warm smile to your father as he too looked at you with a grin, knowing how insane you must think these strangers were. You loved seeing your father on breaks, but c’mon, sometimes you yourself needed some time to yourself.

You contemplated his offer briefly, “Hmm I don’t kno—” “Cmon!” he insisted, unwarily cutting you off, “It’ll be great, we can stay in my parents sleep out, I’ll be working for one of my neighbors who I had a job with in high school, and I’ve already asked my mom if she can find some work for you around her office. On weekends we can walk to the beach and go to the mall and whatnot, c’mon babe, it’ll be fun”. Great, a summer working in an office and hanging out with your boyfriends’ rich parents, sounds… delightful. But truth is, you didn’t have anything else to do over the summer, and maybe this would be a way to relax without spending a boatload of your hard-earned money on a shitty trip. “Hmm... fine, you’ve convinced me”, you pretend to be annoyed about it. He smiles and gives you a quick peck on the cheek which you ignore. “It’ll be great, we can go up Saturday afternoon. First day of summer, the adults in the neighborhood usually throw a barbecue at Joel’s, the guy I’m working for. Yeah, it’s a little rowdy with drunk adults and a pool thrown into the mix but I always find myself actually having fun”. At this point you felt a little excitement creep through you. You arrive and immediately there’s a party, hell yeah. Who cares about drunk middle-aged people when at least there are free drinks. “I’m sure we will have a great time”, you force a smile as he gazes at you, “as long as I’m with you”, he replies earnestly before adding repulsively, “can you bring something hot to wear, like those little shorts- I wanna impress everyone in town that you’re mine”. You cringed at the sudden ruin of the mood and his claiming you as his. It sends a nauseous feeling straight to your stomach with a hint of rage.

Six months ago, you may have laughed and slapped him lightly on the shoulder, but truth is, you had been meaning to break things off with him for a couple of weeks now. His constant unawareness to vile comments and the fact that you were always treated as an accessory to him, as if you weren’t a person at all, had just brought you to your breaking point. Not to mention your friend Em, who dated his much kinder friend, had broken the news that him and a girl in another one of his classes had been fucking on the regular. This should’ve hurt, but truth be told, you two had been distant for months now. The only reason that you hadn’t broken it off sooner was the slamming of exam period, as you spend two weeks with your head buried in books, barely seeing anyone, including him (you had kinda forgot about him over that time, if you were honest with yourself, and, you know you weren’t supposed to say it, but it felt kinda nice, not having the responsibility of constantly thinking about a significant other). Remembering all the outliers in your relationship, you cursed yourself for saying yes to the trip and not just calling it quits to spend summer alone. Well, you guessed you wouldn’t be seeing him all that much, with both of you working and you could use the excuse you wanted to check out the town to get away for a bit. God, you felt like a major bitch, but still, it was a free trip. So, fuck it. Call it compensation for how neglectful he had been of your relationship.

The trip back to his hometown was draining. You couldn’t help but wish your boyfriend would just ease up on the constant chatter so the two of you could sit in comfortable silence with the music blaring instead. He told you all about his neighbors and his parents and you couldn’t help but find yourself intrigued by this Joel Miller character he was working for. Single parent, self-made wealthy contractor with a charm about him, or so your boyfriend complimented, as he told the story of how Joel had offered him a job in high school when times were tight through his parents’ divorce. “Listen okay, literally everyone in town swoons for him but I’ve never seen him with anyone, I don’t know, maybe he’s just not looking to settle down. I personally don’t see it, he’s just an old man”, he mentions offhandedly. You were a little nervous to meet him after the string of admiration by your boyfriend.

Once you had arrived and his stepfather and mother had showered you with acclimation (“My goodness Sammy, look at this gorgeous thing, how did you manage to lock her down”). Getting ready for the much-awaited barbecue, you settled for simple, as the humid evening approaching told you that anymore layers, and you would be drenched in sweat. You added some accessories, equipping yourself with your camera and extra film as you and your boyfriend headed across the road to, supposedly, Joel’s house.

Already there was a congregation of neighbors and friends, all gathered around a pool in the backyard, beers in hands, chatting enthusiastically with others they, presumably, were all familiar with. It was utterly suburban, the sight bemusing you slightly as you force away a smirk. Making your way across the lawn and through already intoxicated neighbors you find a full cooler, preparing yourself with a beer before observing the strangers. Your boyfriend had taken off to greet friendly faces, taking the opportunity, you fixate your lens to your eye to capturing the action.

A sweep of the back garden and a few shots later your lens focuses on a tall man leaning on a porch pillar. You can’t help but stare through the disguise of your camera. The cross of his tanned broad arms stretching his t shirt against his chest, making the expanse that much more noticeable. One hand jammed into his pocket, the other superlatively cradling a beer.

His patchy beard lined his structured jaw, squinting as he laughed, dimples inverting the sides of his mouth exquisitely. All these featured crafted the most handsome man you think you had ever laid eyes on. Pressing the shutter, you snap a photo of him mid-laugh as a neighbor entertained him. His admirable laugh carried across the garden, a melody to your ears, you can’t help but smile to yourself.

“Babe!” you boyfriend calls from across the lawn, cringing once more at the pet name, you wander across the garden after being summoned. “This here is Joel”. Your eyes meet the older man finally greeting the stranger who has piqued your interest the past few hours. He had a southern charm about him, and the closer you get, you can see how broad he really is. His muscles sculpted through his shirt, the veins in his arm mimicking those of Michelangelo's David. What the hell was your boyfriend talking about “just an old man”, you couldn’t take your eyes off him, allure and all.

“Ah, so this is she”, he envelopes your hand in his, his calloused palms connect more gently than you expected with your own young, soft padding. “I’m Joel”, he introduces himself, “I noticed you snapping photos over there”, his smile softens his features, you can’t help but mirror his beaming. “Speaking of”, you say, reaching into your pocket, you hand him the photo you had taken earlier; his attractive face radiating from the Polaroid, “Here”.

Taking it, he inspects it closely, you hold your breath, faintly, always nervous of reactions to your craft, no matter how friendly the gathering. A mesmerizing smile breaks out on his feature, “Probably the best photo taken of me ever. And that’s saying something”, he adds, grinning. “Its all yours”, you offer, watching him pocket the photo with pride.

Joel and you fall into conversation seamlessly. You tell of your uni and photography endeavors as Joel starts telling you about his contracting business. How he got it off the ground with the help of his brother, Tommy, who was lounging on a pool chair beside Joel’s daughter Sarah, who he mentioned with a sparkle of joy in his eye any proud father would have. “So, after Sarah’s mom left, I decided to get my shit togeth—”

“Holy shit”, your boyfriend interrupts. Joel raises his eyebrows in confusion, and you sigh in question, as you were enjoying talking to Joel, “Listen, my old high school buddies are having a boys night at theirs”, he raises up his phone, showing the brightened notification on the screen. You don’t bother to read it. “I gotta go babe, sorry. Ill see you later on tonight, okay?”, he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving you standing there speechless before weaving through the crowd of people in the back garden and leaving. You’re shocked, frankly. Sure, he’s been neglectful of you, but this was a new low. Ditching you at his neighbor’s party to go hang out with other people… you are truly dumbstruck. Tears of humiliation and pure anger burn on your lashes, threatening to leak down your face. You turn your attention to Joel leaning next to you, the same stunned expression accessorizing his features, brow slightly furrowed. “Well,”, he sighs after a beat, “that was a bit fucking rude. Sorry about th—“

“Excuse me”, it was your turn to interrupt him, as you fled from his domineering presence, frankly, embarrassed by your bastard of a boyfriend. Tears lighting a fire behind your eyes as your blood boiled.

“Fuck”, you took a look at the bottom of your empty beer bottle, heading over to the cooler. “Fuck!!”, you repeated to yourself upon opening the now empty chiller. Adults really did drink a lot huh, you thought, glaring daggers at the once full bin before wandering across the garden and inside the house.

You navigated the modern, utterly suburban house plan until you found a garage. Damn middle-aged men and their garages, you swear every dad you knew decorated their garage better than their own rooms. Thank god Joel was no different, because you knew there would be a fridge there filled with the good stuff. Once alone with your new full beverage, you let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. You were here, alone now, with people only he knew, did he expect you to just stand in the corner and drink by yourself, observing the party? Did he expect you to just go home? Honestly, the mere thought of it sent a rush of anger traversing up your spine. “Asshole”, you muttered to yourself, taking a swig of your stolen beer.

“Didn’t think pretty girls were thieves”, you heard a teasing voice behind you. You whipped your head around to make out Joel in the doorway of the garage, muscular arms tucked into his sides again, one supporting his almost empty beer. Had he… followed you? He uncrossed his ankles and made his way over to where you stood by the fridge.

“The door was open, arrest me officer”, you retort sarcastically, already over this whole shindig after being ditched by your boyfriend.

He chuckled lightly before noticing your peeved demeanor. “Ah”, he whispers to himself, “boyfriend troubles huh? More so, than the whole ordeal before hm, darling”. You glance at him through your lashes and roll your eyes, “You don’t know the half of it.” Sighing, he moved closer to you, his elbow caressing yours slightly, he looks down at you with an expression you cant quite make out, “All I can say is”, he begins, his voice low and gravelly, “if I had a pretty thing like you for myself, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight”.

Was he… making a move on you? You couldn’t tell. In your drunken state, you didn’t really care either, why not pursue it. Your boyfriend hadn’t touched you in months, the least Joel could say was no; so, fuck it, right?

You inch toward him, “and what would you do if you had me, Mr. Miller”, you coo, your voice tantalizing, wavering on a whisper as you gaze at him.

“Maybe one day I’ll get to show you”, he smirks. The two of you are unbelievably close, you can feel his breath fanning on your face and can smell his cologne. He is inundating your senses and you can’t get enough. You take the opportunity to weave your hands around his waist. He reaches an unbearably large hand up to your face and skims your cheekbone, his sizeable thumb halting on your bottom lip. You use the opportunity to take his finger into your mouth, suckling gently before releasing it with a soft kiss on the padding of his digit. You can feel him harden against you through his jeans.

“Fuckkkken hell”, he drawls, “temptress,” a darkness scintillates in his eyes.

A loud bang of a door close by followed by a whining, “Daddddddd”, has the both of you jumping apart as Sarah appears in view of the doorway. The young girl is rubbing her eyes, messy curls adorning her cute face. Slumping, she complains again, “Dad, I’m tired, can you tuck me in, please”. Joel gives her a warm smile, “I'll be right there baby girl, go get into bed okay, gimme a second”. She notices you for the first time, “I like your hair”, she grins, you cant help but smile at the young girl, “thank you honey, I like yours too”. With that, she disappears back through the door and up the stairs as Joel’s attention turns back to you, his former dark, eager look has returned.

“Come around tomorrow.” It’s not a question. Rather a demand. One hand engulfs your upper arm, giving it a light squeeze as he plants a soft kiss to your cheek, leaving you in the garage to comprehend the exciting conversation you had just had. Before he does, however, he stops in the doorway and turns back around to face you. “For the record, your boyfriend’s an asshole. Has been since high school.”, he gives you a grin but there’s a hint of concern behind his eyes. It was a shitty thing for your boyfriend to do and he understands that.

Your boyfriend had passed out on his parent’s couch when you left Joel’s house, so you made your way to the sleep out, thrilled to have some time alone to think about the events of the night. You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that the entire conversation with Joel felt good. Right, even; like Joel was actually trying to talk to you as any decent human being would. And maybe the bar was on the ground for your after your shitty relationship, but you didn’t feel guilty about wanting the older man. And he wanted you too. Maybe it’ll only be for a quick fuck, but it felt nice to be wanted. You thought about the conversation again before slipping a finger down through your wet folds, rubbing quick fast circles to the nub of your clit, exhaling soft moans. You imagined your hand wasn’t your own but Joel's.

The next day you woke up early. Your nerves shot as you take a shower, taking the opportunity of seeing Joel again to dress in lacy, barely there lingerie under your clothes (why you packed it… just in case, you supposed). If nothing happened between the two of you, or he admitted that perhaps he was drunk and just fucking around, then nobody would know your effort but you. However, if he did get to undress you, the choice to dress up would be an ideal one.

The door is open when you arrive, the summer entering uninvited through the hallway of the cozy home. Entering the doorway to the living room, you knock on the door frame, Joel appearing moments later behind you on the stairs. “Hi again, doll”, he greets you with a genuine smile, walking to the kitchen. Those dimples, carved by Donatello himself, you supposed. “You want something to drink?”, you nod as he leads the way past you. Handing you a dewy beer, you make your way to the couch to sit on the edge like a nervous child and admire the man in front of you. His t shirt tightening at the sleeves, barely able to fit over his muscular, slightly tanned arms. Jeans, ungodly tight around his crotch. You blush at the realization that you’re staring at him in all his glory. Your breath hitches as you focus your gaze on the skew of family photos dotted around the living me.

“Why’d you ask me over?” you come right out and question. In your drunken state last night, you didn’t care if it looked like you were coming onto him, if he said no, your intoxication dulled your embarrassment. But now, in your sober state, you needed to know, so as not to do just that. “I wanna take care of you”, he expressed nonchalantly, his focus occupied on finding a bottle opener. “And how do you presume to do that”, you continue, bemused by his confused expression lightening once he found what he was looking for, popping the cap before coming to sit next to you on the couch. He crossed his ankle over his knee, your eyes unfortunately for you, travel straight to the bulge in his jean. Perv, you curse to yourself. “Well, it just seems like your boyfriend isn’t doing a very good job, is he sweetheart?”. An exasperated sigh emits from your throat, your eyes roll unwillingly at the mention of your partner. You lean against the back of the couch, head resting on his forearm relaxing lazily behind you, as you take a sip from your bottle.

You realize you really do want him… badly. “Maybe I do need your help, Mr. Miller”, lolling your neck to look at him through your lashes, putting on a sad face whilst the hint of seduction in your breathy tone communicates everything to Joel.

He leans in and kisses you, gently at first. You deepen it, needing more of him as you moan into his mouth, giving him easy access to slide his tongue across your teeth. Tongue and teeth collide in a hot, messy kiss. His hand glides up your waist to your throat, where he cups your jaw with two giant fingers and squeezes gently. Quickly realizing you’re in the middle of the living room, gasping pulling away. “Shit, is Sarah home?”, you pant. “Friend’s house”, Joel says shortly, reconnecting your lips to his.

“Then, make me feel good Joel”, you coo, teeth running over his bottom lip. He exhales a low animistic groan, watching his eyes darken to a lust-filled gaze. “Yes ma’am”.

Next thing you know, he is walking you backwards to the spare bedroom downstairs. Both of you are so needy, you can’t even wait to make it upstairs to his own bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress, he works at your panties, lips connecting with your throat, neck, collarbone, a symphony of needy groans accompany your pleasureful sighs quickly filling the empty space of the room. Slipping a calloused hand between your thighs, he begins working to collect your arousal, coating the tips of his fingers before slipping a digit into your cunt. You exhale a gasp, he swallows into a groan, “Fuck, doll,” he breathes softly, watching his finger pumping in and out of you, “does this pussy ever get this wet for your boyfriend?” He palms himself through his jeans, relieving some of his building tension. “No Joel”, you gasp, “not like it does for you”. Mascara gathers at your lashes as you squirm on his sheets. Joel’s touch fills you with ecstasy, but you still need more.

“Joel—” you whine, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, desire and devotion flooding his features, you follow his line of vision to the sight of his digit fucking you, then to your camera lying on his bedside table. You see the gears turning in his head, barely able to comprehend what he is up to before he grabs the camera, taking it in one large hand, positioning the base on his palm as he bends his fingers to the shutter button. You turn your head away in bliss, all you can focus on are his expert fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of you. “C'mon baby, you don’t need to be shy around me”. The camera looks miniature in his hand, the flash blinds you, snapping your pure pleasure, freezing it as a passionate moment in time. Joel holds the strap by his teeth, yanking the filthy portrait out, throwing it on the bedside table. Fuck, that just made you even wetter, if that was even possible. “Joel—ah- Joel” you continue to whimper, unworried about the physical evidence of your filthy endeavors due to your young, committed cunt clenching unwilling around his fingers by how good it feels.

“I know, sweetheart”, he whispers understandingly, “Just gotta warm you up a little longer, okay sweet girl”, he slips another digit between your walls. Your back arches against the mattress, head thrown back as a string of moans and whimpers tumble from your lips. Joel’s eyes darken into a hungry, heavy look with every squirm and curse that falls from your lips. Your eyebrows knit together in pleasure as his filthy words and his tantalizing, skillful fingers aid the coil in your stomach to release slowly. Joel, camera in hand, snaps two more of him fucking you with his fingers, discarding them on the table again. “Fuck, my own little cam girl”, he drawls in your ear, smirking, “we got four left, gotta use them wisely now”.

Joel abruptly pulls his fingers out, leaving you gasping for air, whining, as the bliss slowly fades, your arousal still hot and heavily in need of him like the air you breathe. He drags his jeans and boxers off, tossing them carelessly onto the floor by the bed. Taking in his girth, you understand why he had to warm you up first. You damn near moan at the sheer side of it as the slick from your pussy assists his thick fingers to pump himself a couple of times. He smirks at your needy expression. Cocky bastard, he knows he’s big too. Settling between your legs, his tip of his cock teases your entrance. You can feel his pre-cum mixing with your slick, creating an exquisite cocktail. Repetition falling from his lips in an unsteady gravelly tone as he coerces you to take ever inch of him inside your cunt, with a melody of “good girl” and “you’re doing so good for me, pretty baby”.

Joel slides inside you so easily, with how wet you are for him. A soft hiss, and then his features mold into a symphony of pleasure and hunger. His capable fingers tangle in your hair he glides his length in and out, painfully slow. You finally find your voice amongst the soft gasps and ah’s. “Joel— need more, please”, your voices emerges as a breathy whisper; making his features darken with craving. “I know baby, I know”, he coos, “you’re so full right now, aren’t you. That’s it sweet girl, you’re so good, taking every inch of me into that pretty little pussy”.

Your mind is whirling 100 miles per hour as he whispers filthy phrases in your ear, the promise to fuck you hard and slow being almost unbearable to comprehend. His thick cock stretches you out, rock hard, forcing your legs wide open as your ankles cross around his waist for support. It’s too much, fuck! After a few seconds of adjusting to this size, he pulls all the way out. You whine slightly at the loss of him inside you before he slams back into your cunt, filling you all the way before repeating again and again and again. The head of his thick, impressive length kisses your g spot like no other mans has before. All the while he has one large, veiny hand around your throat providing a slight bit of pressure, his thumb caresses your lips, opening them to slide a finger inside. You take the hint as a call back to last night at the party, slipping his fingers to the back of your throat and sucking on them. He groans out a string of profanities, eyes glued to you as you feel his cock twitch inside you at the image before him. You release his fingers, a string of spit still attaching you and him, he uses his thumb to spread it around your lips before dragging your chin down to open your mouth, pressing his lips to yours delicately. You can barely keep up with his kiss as he continues to slam into you at a rapid pace. You’re moaning out his name, a chorus of Joel, Joel Joel-, he smothers your whines with his lips. Rocking his hips up into you slowly, he brings his thumb down between the two of you, his calloused finger after years of contracting, makes contact with your clit, rubbing circles to your neglected nub. You push his hand away after your body jolts from the stimulation and he lets out a low chuckle. “You about to come, sweetheart?”, his voice is restrained and needy. You can feel your orgasm building inside of you, teasing you as the crescendo builds. You nod quickly. Squeezing your eyes shut, your moans begin to become rapid sighs on your tongue.

“Eyes on me, doll”, Joel demands, you open them to be met by the southern man, slamming his hips into you. Fuck he looks so good on top of you right now. A thin layer of sweat coats his forehead and chest, his hair messy, two curls decorating his forehead. You don’t think you’ve ever seen such a beautiful sight. He lifts himself up on his knees, grabbing the camera once more, he takes a selection of photos of you taking him deep into you. He thumbs lightly at your clit for a shot, before the film runs out, a satisfyingly dirty collection of photos to remember your time together by lying next to the both of you.

Your hips move together in conjunction. His hands weave around your back, pulling you into him as his lips attached to your breasts, he anchors his tantalizingly expert fingers into your hair, the plush of your ass, circling your waist— Joel holds you as close as physically possible, his muscular arms crush you, teeth grazing the nub of your breast. There’s a starving kind of desire laced into his kiss. Involuntary clenches of your cunt around his impossibly hard cock, and your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, you slide your hands around his neck to hold yourself steady.

Then, he’s pulling away slightly, his hungry eyes watching his length pump in and out of you, as he plants a strong hand on your thigh, spreading you open to receive impossibly more of him. You are simply a toy at this point, as he dictates the sheer brutal pace of how he fucks you. “God, you look so beautiful, full of my cock, doll”. He moves his lips wetly up your throat, your head thrown back. He smiles against your mouth, you give him a shaky “mmm”, he ardently peaks your lips, releasing after each kiss to watch your cock-drunken expression, his name the only word you can attempt, like worship on the edge of your tongue. “Joel- Joel- Joel, mmm”, you stutter a praise for the captivated audience, who is relishing in the sound of your pleading gasps.

“I wanna see how appreciative you are for this cock, baby, keep your eyes on me”.

His voice is firm as his hardened hands caresses the length of your spine. You feel him flex inside you, his dominant gaze securing you as he speeds up, watching as your tits bounce with his rough strokes. “Ohmygod–Joel–”, the promise of your climax rapidly approaches, the ache undoes all the tension inside you, overtaking every inch of you, causing your thighs to squeeze him impossibly tighter.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Give it to me now, Darlin, you’re doing so good, come around me, doll”. The praise, the pet names, him inside you, all sends you over the edge. Your cunt starts to flood and shudder around him, your eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm release. You squeeze around Joel’s cock so tight; your lungs can only gasp out a mixture whines as you come around him. Joel continues to fuck you through your orgasm, its hard and fast to the point where you can feel another coil build inside you. He can feel it too, shifting your hips up slighting in a way that makes your mind blow, you nearly scream out at how good it feels. “That’s my good girl, I need another one, baby. You can give me another. That’s it, Yes, give it to me pretty girl”, his lips attach to a soft spot behind your ear, making you moan his name, your delicate hands rake through his hair. He pulls out for a brief second, flipping you onto your side as he lies behind you, sliding back inside you again. Its almost as if he never left, you’re so drunk off him fucking you that you can barely comprehend what is happening. Just that it feels so good, his hand weaves around you to play with your nipple, squeezing it slightly as his lips pepper kisses to your neck. he gently hooks your leg over his, stretching you open impossibly wider. “I wanna feel that pussy squeezeing me again, baby”. He continues lacing a string of filthy words into your ear while retreating back to his signature move when the two of you first started, pulling all the way out and slamming into you again.

“Lemme, feel you comin’ when I fill you up, good girl.”

Your second orgasm blinds you as you moan through your bliss. Joel’s gravely groans behind you sound like a melody. His warm breath in your ear and progressive sloppiness, encasing the room in leud noises, accompanied by his broken moans signals to you that he is close too. You turn you head to capture his lips as the aftershocks of your orgasm spark through you, your thighs twitching against his. He meets them brutally, and you know you’re going to be bruised inside and out when this is over. By the time he’s pumped you full of his cum and pulled out, it’s leaking down the inside of your thighs. You attempt to catch your breath, as his cock settles between the two of you on your lower back. You cant help but smile as he rubs lazy circles to your bare hip.

“Fucken hell, that was incredible”, he whispers, more so to himself than to you. “You are something else, doll”, he breathes, still catching his breath. You turn yourself around so that you’re half on top of him, throwing your leg over his so his cock is resting between your thighs. “You’re not so bad yourself”, you retort, smirking up at him.

“You know, you look so fucking pretty on top of me like that, darlin’. Next time, ill have to get a shot of you riding me”. Your heart jumps slightly at the promise of a next time, which he notices, following up his sentiment.

“Are you staying the whole summer”, he questions, his roaming hands worshiping your waist. “Sure am”, you respond hopefully. “Well then, I guess I’ll be seeing you soon”, he gives you a genuine smile, capturing your lips against lip for a delicate kiss, his patchy,lightly groomed beard scratching softly at your cupid’s bow.

You’re still unable to form a coherent sentence, as you feel his slick cocktailed with your own leaking out of your cunt. You slide off him, propping yourself up on a trembling elbow, watching Joel pull his jeans back up over his hips. “Until next time then”, he promises, gliding your panties up your still-weak legs, a wet patch already forming on the fabric. Aren’t you glad you decided to wear these. He hands you the photos and your camera as you attempt to dress yourself again, feeling weak and so empty without him already. Handing them to you, he slips one into his jean pocket with a cheeky comment. Walking you to the door, he kisses you deeply, his grey-flecked beard scratching your cheeks. After your goodbyes you can’t help but miss him. Hell, you’d only known the older man two days; still, you wanted his company more and more as the hours went by, so you reached for what he had given you to remember you by, “until next time”.

You stand in the sleep-out kitchen, admiring the Polaroid’s he had taken of you. You filter through them, blushing more at the sight of each one, dirtier than the last, too caught up to hear the door open. “Hey”, the familiar voice makes you jump. Your boyfriend, out of breath comes stalking through the door. You scramble to hide the photos, collecting them in a bundle, attempting to put them in your jean pocket. You force a smile at him as his eyes travel down to the photos in your hand. “From the party right, lemme take a look at those,” he says enthusiastically, closing the gap between the two of you as he reaches for them. “No”, you try to brush it off, “the lighting isn’t right, they didn’t turn out great, ya know, night shooting is a bitch”, you try to pull the photos further from his grasp, but he has a firm hold on them, yanking them slightly. You gasp as they flutter gracefully to the ground, face up, dropping to your knees to quickly pick them up but he’s already seen. “What the fuck”, he whispers, grabbing one and gazing it, a deep-rooted frown carved into his brow. It was you, mouth frozen in a pleasureful ‘ah’ as a peak of Joel entering you was seen at the bottom of the frame. “You wanna tell me what the fuck this is”, his voice was wavering on a yell.

You decided not to try to explain, “you wanna tell me about the girls you’ve been fucking these past few months, huh?”, you retort. “Everyone knows, everyone has told me to break up with you because of it, shit, you don’t even try to keep it a secret”. You voice is laced with venom, it was high time this discussion was happening, you just wished you had the courage to bring it up on your own, and not in this unwanted circumstance.

“Dont change the subject, who is he?”, he demands, his tone reaching shouting point. “Take a wild fucking guess. Do you need a hint? He stayed with me while you ditched my ass at your neighborhood party. While you humiliated me by just fucking leaving me there with strangers like the asshole you are.” You can feel rage-filled hot tears collecting at your lash line reminiscing about the event. “I know you’re going to try to break it off and think its your own doing but trust me, this”, you direct your finger between yourself and him, “this, has been over for a long time”. You push past him with force, grabbing your bag which you hadn’t even bothered to unpack, thank fuck, what a nice coincidence. You stomp toward the door.

“Fine”, he responds, “but as if he’s going to want you. He’s a middle-aged man with a kid, you were just a fuck”. It spirals you. You turn on your heels to look at him, he is frowning on the verge of tears (how many times had you been there before in his presence) and there’s a contortion of anger in his face, “At least he actually made me come”, you retorted hotly, walking out the door before you remember an extra detail. You pop your head back through the door to utter, “three times, actually”. And then you’re off. You ask his mother to drive you to the train station, explaining the split, briefly, and that you didn’t feel comfortable to stay. She insisted you did, kind lady, but didn’t pry into the details.

Once you had boarded and the train sped away from the dreaded events of the town, you felt relief course through you, no longer chained to that asshole. Sure, you know you should’ve done it sooner, and yeah, it wasn’t an ideal option what had happened, but this meant you could have some time to yourself this summer.

As you were back at square one, you daydreamed of the handful of friends who usually spent their summers on campus to call once you got back. Your phone screen lighting up with a ding, caught you off guard, the name causing your heart to skip a beat.

“It’s Joel. I heard the rundown from his mother, got your number in the process. Are you alright, doll?” he writes. You read it in his voice, subconsciously smiling at how his pet names aren't limited to face to face conversations.

You look at the bright screen in disbelief. He asked your exes mother for your number, meaning he wanted to stay in contact. Perhaps? One could only hope. You didn’t let your excitement get the better of you, however.

“Guess word travels fast. I’m fine, it should’ve happened sooner, honestly. I’m so sorry I got you involved”. You put your phone down, not expecting a reply after your apology. But the immediate ding had not only butterflies, but a whole zoo trampling around your stomach.

“If you’re going to be at your dorm over the summer, let me come visit sometime darling? Tommy offered to work more after your ex quit, so my plate is free”. He adds, much to your delight, “plus I think Sarah would love to see the campus.”

You smiled at the thought of showing the young girl around your college, she would be in awe of the library, you thought, remembering a glimpse of a large collection of books strewn across the table and shelf in the living room. You started to type a reply to Joel before another message comes through.

“and, for the record, those photos were hot, sweetheart”, he adds, a blush coloring your face, your gaze immediately drifting to the pocket of your bag where they lay, safe, sound, and where no one would be able to see, thank god.  

“I suppose I could work something out, for you” you reply, a smiling creeping across your features before double texting, “you know, I have extra film in my dorm... for emergency”. Discarding your phone on the table in front of you, you watch the countryside melt into a blur, feeling the most relaxed and content you had in a while.

~

if you enjoy this fic please like, comment and reblog! your feedback is always appreciated<3 thank you for reading

[ofmdrecaps]

07/10/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Vico Oritz and Samba Schutte; Rachel House; Lindsey Cantrell; Kristian Nairn and Nathan Foad in Wee John Wednesday!; Gypsy Taylor/Ra Vincent/ Adam Wheatley; Articles; Cheers M'Queers; YouBearFineThingsWell Day 2; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika: National Kitten Day!

== David Jenkins ==

Chaos Dad was out in droves today inspiring more honking all around! First, he retweeted one of our incredibly creative crewmates' Calypso cosplay and moving words from this past weekend!

Source @ StellarCyn's Twitter

Next up, David responded to our beloved @ofmooshd with some encouraging words! What are you up to David?

Source: David Jenkins' Twitter

== Rhys Darby ==

Our friends over at @adoptourcrew are pushing everything bear this week and we love to see it! We're with you crew, so excited! Here's the Decider Article they linked, and the exclusive clip with Rhys below!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

== Taika Waititi ==

Today I learned that Taika was one of the Executive Producer / Director of one of the episodes of the new series Interior Chinatown, premiering November 19th on Hulu! The man is involved in everything it seems!

Source: Ronny Chieng's Instagram

Follow up from yesterday, I had forgotten to include OFMD's bestie (Astroglide)'s response to the latest Taika version!

Source: Astroglide Twitter

== Rachel House ==

Rachel House was featured in a Concrete Playground article about her directorial debut film The Mountain!

Jumping Behind The Camera When You Love Being A Supporting Actor: Rachel House Talks 'The Mountain'

Source: Concrete Playground's Instagram

== Vico Ortiz + Samba ==

Florida Supercon is coming this weekend, 12-14 Jul and both Vico and Samba will be there both Saturday and Sunday!

Source: Vico's Instagram

Vico's other upcoming work, Lesbophilia, will be joining the LaughAfterDark Comedy Fest in October! Visit their site to learn more!

Source: its_michellewest Instagram

Ticket are now on sale for the LA premiere of FireFuckingFire at @lashortsfest  They'll be screening at 10pm July 28th and closing out the festival! You can buy tickets here!

Source: juliaeringer's Instagram

A little late on my part sorry-- Happy Non Binary Awareness Week from Vico!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Vico Ortiz (@puertoricaninja)

Source: Vico's IG

== Gypsy Taylor / Ra Vincent / Adam Wheatley ==

Gypsy, Ra, and Adam were nominated for Costume Design, Production Art Department/Design, as well as Concept Art Awards with the Australian Production Design Guild! Congrats you three!

Source: Gypsy Taylor's Instagram / APDG Awards Website

== Lindsey Cantrell ==

Reminder! Our beloved set designer's new short Watching Walter will be airing at the LA Shorts festival in LA on July 19! You can buy tickets here if you're in the area!

Source: Lindsey Cantrell's Instagram Stories

== Kristian and Nathan ==

Our darling Kristian and Nathan gave us YET ANOTHER insanely fun WJW. These two are the absolute best. If you get a chance, give it a watch. CW: Mention of Witnessing Shootings/Death

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kristian Nairn (@kristiannairn)

Some minor highlights from WJW today!

Nathan's been traveling!

Both of them are going to a bunch of American Comic Cons

Kristian has been working on his book and being crafty (turned some white Nikes into Spiked, Glittery Nikes)

Kristian and Nathan will be doing a wee WJW in Raleigh with the cast if they can

Nathan will be going to a not yet announced European Comic Con sometime this year

Kristian read a few excerpts from his book

There will be an audiobook version that Kristian will voice

During OFMD S1 Kristian asked David and everyone about his accent and if he should change it and David replied with "We just want YOU Kristian"

One of the funniest days on set was Nat Faxon and the GreenScreen teeth when the Swede had Scurvy

Nathan described himself as "Nathan Underscore Foad" and now the fandom will henceforth call him this.

These were some of my favorite shots of these two:

And this is a bit of bonus features for the WJW but you'll have to watch it for context:

Source: Nathan's Instagram

Adopt Our Crew was kind enough to put together his list of where you can buy Kristian's Book! Reminder-- bookshop is great if you want to support your local bookstores!

Barnes & Noble

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Bookshop.com

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

== Articles ==

Adding already mentioned and one more article to this section for more easily finding them later! Thank you @adoptourcrew for sharing them!

Decider: The Hungry Games

The 10 Best Show's To Watch If You Love 'Lady Jane'

== Cheers M'Queers! ==

The Cheers M'Queers variety show tickets are on sale now! Join Our Flag Makes A Difference on July 31st at Akbar, in Los Angeles for drag, music, and so much more! Get your Tickets here!

Source: Our Flag Makes A Difference Twitter

== You Bear Fine Things Well ==

Yesterday was Day 2 of #YouBearFineThingsWell by @adoptourcrew and they asked the fandom what kind of bear each member of the crew would be! Starting off the fan spotlights, I'd like to give a special shoutout to the fab @ everyonegetcake on twitter, for their brilliant submission of Kraken Ed Bear aka Cocaine Bear to the event! I laughed pretty hard at this one.

Source: @ everyonegetcake

I am so very happy that our dear crewmate @sirencalll included Mary Louis and Alma! Look at that proud mama bear! <3

Source: Sirencalll on Twitter

Our badass crewmate Jeniye aka @ nifafifa on twitter got one I didn't think I'd ever see and that is Buttons and Karl!

Source: NifaFifa's Twitter

And to close out the fan spotlight of #YouBearFineThingsWell Day 2, I'd like to end on a submission by the glorious Manu, aka @ VictoriaVan9 on twitter! That is an impressive spread by both Ed AND BearEd!

Source: @ VictoriaVane9's Twitter

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies! I saw so much continuous clowning today! 2-3 days in a row? It's been a while since we've had that much all at once! I'm so happy to see people feeling the love and camaraderie with each other again! I hope that continues even if we see things calm down! Something I heard in WJW today that really stuck with me was "We just want YOU Kristian", something David said when Kristian kept asking if his Belfast accent was okay for the role. How absolutely heartwarming is that? We knew that David and the rest of the cast and crew were kind and wanted everyone to be themselves, but to hear that out of the mouth of Kristian and how it affected him, in his book where he poured out his soul-- just hit so much harder. That really is one of the major values that drew me, and I know quite a few others of the crew to OFMD so hard. Acceptance and celebration of individual uniqueness is at the core of OFMD-- it's part of the building blocks that makes our show so special. Each crew member has their own skills they bring to the table, and we can feel safe when we're allowed to be our true selves around others.

OFMD exudes that kind of acceptance in droves. We can hear it in their varying accents, in the wide array of queer portrayal, in the character's love and acceptance and forgiveness of each other-- in the music, the stage decoration, and the cinematography. We each are different, and we all bring things to the table that make the fandom, or the world a better place. We may not always get along, but it is in the uniqueness of so many crew we find creativity, love, kindness, acceptance, and a place where we can feel safe and learn to be more of our true and authentic selves. Embrace your uniqueness lovelies. You are different from me, from your moots, from your favorite fan artist/writer and that's fucking beautiful. We want YOU, crew. Be YOU in everything you do. Rest up lovelies, see you tomorrow <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Today was National Kitten Day so these two appropriate gifs just HAD to make an encore appearance. Gifs courtesy of the stunning and brilliant @kiwistede and @yourcatwasdelicious!

[saintsenara]

would you want to elaborate more on your thoughts on Alan Rickman as Snape? I'd love to hear more of your take on it. I dislike him in the role so much and it's insanely difficult to actually have a conversation about it sometimes because of how much some people like movie!Snape in large parts of the fandom

I have so many gripes with what happened to Snape, from how movie!Alan!Snape is a completely separate character to book!Snape (and how less flawed movie Snape overshadows the much more interesting and gray book version), how much I dislike his acting choices in certain moments to how much I dislike how he sees and describes the character in interviews

I've never heard of the diaries you mentioned, what did he say in them? I'm honestly also just curious if he even read any of the books because some of the things I've heard him say really make me doubt it 😭

there are dozens of us!

and i have no issue with being a #hater on the public timeline. for fun and profit.

but i'm actually going to start with two bits of rickman defending [it's giving diplomat].

the fact that the adult cast of the films was massively aged up in comparison to their book versions makes perfect sense. each individual film not only needed to be accessible for people who’d never read the books, but for people who'd never seen another film in the sequence - and so having a visual distinction between harry and james’ generations is completely necessary. we - as people who are undeniably more invested in the series than the average person - know that the great tragedy of the later books is that james and lily died so young that harry looks virtually indistinguishable from his father as he walks into the forest. but that doesn’t always work on screen…

it also doesn't bother me unduly that rickman doesn't physically resemble the canon snape. plenty of actors don't look anything like the characters they give brilliant performances of [and not only fictional characters, but real people], and it doesn't matter in the slightest - being an exact physical match for a character says nothing about an actor's ability to portray what they're like.

which is where my beef with film!snape starts...

the thing that never hits for me is that rickman plays snape - regardless of the situation he finds himself in - as emotionally repressed, cold, and controlled.

[even down to the costume - he was behind the decision to have snape be, literally, buttoned up].

i simply don't know how anyone could read the books and come away with this impression of snape without having fundamentally misunderstood the character. snape is incredibly emotionally demonstrative! he’s the male character other than harry - the literal narrative perspective - whose emotional state is described the most frequently! and his emotional state is always described in terms which make clear that he’s someone who feels very deeply and who registers his emotions clearly on his face!

rickman's version of snape bears no resemblance to this - and it means that his portrayal of two key aspects of snape's canon character always feels flat to me.

the first is snape's main negative trait - his cruelty. something is really lost in the fact that film!snape's cruelty is reduced to something arch and precise - and that it doesn't have the petty, childish, vindictive tone that it does in the books.

and the second is - of course - the experience which defines snape's canon arc - his grief. this is so inextricably bound up in the state of arrested development - still living at school! still beefing with people he knew when he was fifteen! - that the absence of snape's childish side in rickman's performance means that the way he portrays snape's grief is always going to feel half-baked.

and - specifically - rickman's emphasis on emotional repression in every aspect of snape's character undermines the fact that - in canon - snape's mingled love, grief, and guilt for lily is the only emotion he goes out of his way to repress, which allows the revelation of his feelings for lily in deathly hallows to actually feel like a mystery being solved.

snape is an interesting character precisely because he's so... feral - and rickman’s buttoned-up, suave, nowhere-near-as-gratuitously-mean-as-he-should-be take on him is the cause of many of the least complex and least compelling fanon!snapes [in particular, the snape prominent in pairings with female partners in which he’s kind, sophisticated, romantic, and definitely not really ugly].

the snapewives phenomenon was incredible, though. fair play to him for inspiring that.

when it comes to the diaries... what's complicated is reconciling two particular truths.

on the one hand, a diary is inherently a space for a person to record their private thoughts [they were published with the consent of his family, but they weren't originally written with the intention that they'd be published] - and, therefore, to record impolite, unpleasant, or unadmirable thoughts which they wouldn't express in person. rickman's diaries are incredibly whiny - and often quite unkind - but it's clear that this isn't because he was particularly whiny or unkind in person. obviously, it's a good and healthy thing that, if someone was pissing him off at a dinner party, he was cordial to them in conversation and saved that he thought they were an idiot for his private diary!

but, on the other hand, there are several threads which run through these private thoughts which made it impossible for me not to feel considerably less fond of him.

[dearstvckyx]

“That when a heart breaks, it ain't broken forever” - MV1

Pairing : Sierra Verstappen x Max Verstappen (Main) , Sierra Verstappen x Victoria Verstappen (Mentioned) , Sierra Verstappem x Blue Jaye Verstappen (Mentioned) , Sierra Verstappen x Sophie Kumpen (Mentioned)

Genre : angst , sad , emotional, just get the tissues okay

Mentions : drg use, addiction, death, character death, oc death

about oc : Sierra Verstappen ~~is~~ was the oldest sibling of the Verstappen Three (Her, Max and Victoria). Was a singer/rapper.

about : After her death due to an OD, Max is cleaning her house out and he finds tucked away in her office and cd holder with unreleased songs, one being Temporary.

Max sits at desk that used to alway occupy his older sister warmth and scent, staring down at the disc with his and Vics name he decides to put it into Sierra’s computer. The video begins with the camera low to the ground filming someone’s feet and Max, being the observer he is, notices it’s Sierra shoes. And as the camera pans up to familiar older girl with dyed dark blue hair and the blue eyes, he starts to get emotional seeing her face once more. And finally, He hears that voice that used to sing him to sleep, that used to stand up for him in school, the voice that would calm his anxiety down after a bad race or a fight with their father.

A lot of people ask me, am I afraid of death? - The truth is, I think what scares me the most - Is not being able to say all the things I wanna say to you - When I'm no longer here - So this song is for Maxie for when that day comes

Hearing not just her voice but calling him Maxie, the one who started that nicknamed, made Max tear up a bit. The video fake glitches, to a video of Sierra and Max when Max was a kid,

Where's Maxie? Where's he at?This ain't Maxie! Who is it? It's a monster (ahh)

Max laughed at the video from childhood, Sierra was the only one who could get Max into a video

I've been waiting all night for the sunrise - To take away the dark sky - You're the dad monster and them are the baby monsters and - I'm the mom monster - Oh - All it takes is a new day sometimes - To get me in a better state of mind - Give me a kiss, monster, give me a kiss - Love you (I love you)

Max takes notice that this part is talking about their family's dynamics and the hope that each new day brings healing. The video glitches once more to Max still pretending to be a “monster”. And hearing that ‘I Love You’ once more broke Max’s heart. Once the chorus is over, Verse 2 begins playing, the video cuts back to Sierra sitting in front of at TV that’s playing all and everything of the Verstappen Three (Sierra, Max & Victoria)

Yeah, so Maxie Emil, I wrote you this song - To help you cope with life now that I'm gone - How should I start? Just wanna say - Look after Vicky, Bluey, and Mommy dear - And, sweetie, be strong, I know I was your rock - And I still am, saying goodbye is just not - Ever easy, but why you crying? Just stop - Max, baby, dry your eye, this is not - Forever

Max hears the chorus began again before hearing,

Sissy - What? - When I used to have this when I was a little kid - Baby, are you okay?

Max was surprised to hear their mother's voice, but he was happy to hear it

Yeah, and you will get over me and move on - You can play me on repeat on a song - But don't you dare shed a tear, what'd I tell you? - "Straighten up, little soldier, " them times when I held you - Emilian, it'll be okay, baby, I'm here, Max - I'm watchin' you right now, baby boy, I vow - I will protect you, your guardian angel - As hard as this may feel, us parting is painful - And, darling, the rain will drive you insane still - You will remain strong, Maxie, just hang on - It won't be too long, I need you to move on - And remember, it will get better - 'Cause times heals and when a

Max realizes that, yes he can listen to her music but he wants to hear it person then a recording. Max remembers his fathers rage after a bad race of Maxs, which resulted in Max running away and sitting somewhere by himself crying before he felt the warmth and inhaled the strawberry scented perfume, he had relized his older sister was hugging him and talking him down from this panic attack. Max remembers the words “straight up little soldier. you did great and im still so proud of you.” That one word was one he really only heard from Sierra.

I know this big boy - And he’s really handsome - You know what his name is? - Maxie! - Maxie, how did you know?

Max laughs at his younger confident self,

Yeah, and if there's days where you wanna lock yourself in your room and cry - Just think about how when you were little, how you and I back and forth to the studio, we used to drive - You strapped in the backseat 'cause you were my little sidekick, yeah, sweetie, I know this hurts - Bean, I'm wishing your pain away - Remember this, Maxie Emil - There’s gonna be rainy days - I promise you'll get through 'em and make it regardless - Fuck it, Emilian, I'll be honest - I knew that you was gonna take this the hardest - Sweetie, get up, I know that is is breaking your heart, it's the hardest thing I ever wrote (daddy)Hailie, sweetheart, it's okay for you to let me go - Baby, I promise you that when a-

Max knows and remembers what his sister is talking about. Growing up if Sierra noticed Max was upset, stressed or tired, or just needing a break from karting or dealing with their father, she would take Max with her to the recording studio, Max was almost nearly the first one to hear her music before it was released.

And hearing that nickname Bean, The one Sierra created because Max hated green beans that he would throw them across the room. This part makes Max laugh once more, something he hasn't done in 3 weeks. And once again his bigger sister was right, Max is taking Sierras death harder then anyone, then their younger siblings, their father, their mother and the world.

What's your favorite song? My favorite song right now - Mine and your favorite song, - but I like this part, that's your favorite part, sis?

You're taping me, bitch - I got you on tape cussin' - Can you hear? -Yeah - No, bitch - No what? - No, I said, I said, no, bitch - Okay, no cussin'

Max laughs at this part, Sierra was more of a parent than Jos was to Max. Making him food before and after school, taking him to school, helping him with school work, going to any parent - teacher conferences. With this parental role Sierra had taken on she made sure Max did have some rules one was: No cussing. And Max remembers faking his sister out by saying words that sound close to the swears.

Max leans back, tears in his, and thinks for a moment before grabbing his sister’s phone and getting her managers number off it. Calling her, Max mentions he found the song and wants to see if they can release it, and they do. Max is happy for once these past couple weeks, he knows that she wanted him to find that song, to listen to it, to fight for it to be released. And Max knows Sierra is standing next to him smiling proud once more.

liked by landonorris everythingsierrav and others

maxverstappen1 i am surprised the new outlet haven’t said it before us, our sister Sierra Eliza Verstappen has passed away, today marks 5 weeks of her being gone and it’s something i’m not used to. i miss hearing her voice and her nicknames for me. i got in touched with her manager and label to release this song i heard when cleaning out her house, it’s called “Temporary” and in the words of my older sister, “i hope you enjoy, this masterpiece.” - Max Maxie

charles_leclerc she was a lovely person max ❤️

landonorris the big sister of the paddock

f1 the verstappen three !

victoriaverstappen she was proud of Max, of everything you have done and will do

sophiekumpen im so glad you fought for them to release this song son, you can tell Sierra meant every word

lewishamilton replaying this so many times

- comments haven’t been limited -

liked by sabrinacarpenter lewishamilton oscarpiastri and others

billboard Temporary by Sierra Verstappen sill stands at number one for the 34 week in a row, looks like being number one is a Verstappen sibling thing - Keep Streaming

- Comments Have Been Turned Off -

[dollcherray]

Hey, i have request for tadc, how would they react to a witch? İ like to think that they have witch beauty too like this in photo, maybe spider webs accessories for her witch hat and tight dress, like... Long gloves, heart shapes dress neckline for attractive and long tight skirt, i would love to think that she is goth and have black lipstick with smooky eyes? And maybe her favourite films is... Love witch? Maybe girl interrupted

۶♡ৎ GENESIS ๋࣭ ⭑

ᛝྀི "WITCH" READER X TADC CREW

۶ৎ ๋࣭ ⭑Notes: THE WOMAN IN THE PIC IS SO BEAUTIFUL WTF?? anyways, here ya go hun :3 reader is gn!! Jax bullies you (typical Jax) kind of short in pomni's part, i use They/them with Zooble, this is like the only fic i did cuz i had something special to attend to today lololol (not proofread)

₊˚⊹♡ Type: headcanons, romantic/platonic (mostly platonic), chaotic fluff.

✮⋆˙ Song: my girlfriend is a witch

꩜.ᐟ CAINE

۶ৎ He's mildly bothered, Caine believes your hobbies are kind of inappropriate, the circus is for all ages and your habits are not appropriate for the children to see!

۶ৎ But when you explain to him what witchcraft actually is, he would be very invested in you, he thinks you would come in handy for some special in house adventures, especially halloween ones!

۶ৎ Caine wouldn't really engage with you to he your friend or anything, hes an AI people, its kind of hard for him to want to have any desires of wanting to have friendships, he's solemnly programmed to run the circus and keep the members brains stimulated!

۶ৎ Probably keeps an extra eye on you because of your special habits, which is stupid but it's Caine, once he has an idea on his head, its hard to take it off.

ᯓ★ JAX

۶ৎ Would 100% call you emo, edgelord or something between these lines, lol, everytime Jax sees someone wearing more than 3 black pieces of clothing hes finna tease them with the same overused "emo" joke hahaha omg Jax you're so funny, got the whole squad laughing (😐)

۶ৎ He can't really use plastic insects to prank you because you'll probably steal it to use it as a accessory or as decoration for your own and that's honestly his pet peeve because he got too used to people getting mad or at least a bit uncomfortable with his pranks.

۶ৎ Still, he would try to tease alot by calling you pet names (like i said) mocking your style, your makeup, EVERYTHING, if he can make a joke out of anything from you he WILL make it.

۶ৎ Your option of clothing is something that he specifically likes to pick on you for, calling you "old" because you "dress like a grandma" HE JUST WON'T SHUT UP ABOUT IT.

۶ৎ He asked if you were satanist once because of your witchcraft habits.

۶ৎ Please catch a spell on him to shut up.

۶ৎ In conclusion: typical Jax.

｡𖦹°‧ RAGATHA

۶ৎ As i said, she's a optimistic person, so she would do what she does to everyone: compliment you, but i think she would be a little more invested in your style for being kind of different than the colorful place.

۶ৎ Like, everybody in the circus is like the reincarnation of a rainbow and there's you, wearing dark shades if not only black, and its honestly not a bad thing to her if it makes you happy, she thinks its good to have someone "different".

۶ৎ Would probably ask for you to do her makeup only to bond with you, i like to think that Ragatha sometimes likes to spend time with the others to keep them from going insane and to specially keep them company.

۶ৎ The only thing she would be a tad worried is if you do witchcraft, she kinda fell for the "witchcraft is bad" stereotype, so just explain to her that witchcraft is not necessarily bad and everything is ok! :)

۶ৎ Now, Ragatha really thinks you're very pretty, don't tell this to the others but in her eyes, the digital bodies aren't the prettiest thing, only some could at least look at least decent in a way and others... just kind of turns into something undecipherable. (Zooble i still love you)

۶ৎ She would get used to you pretty quickly, probably be one of your greatest friends :)

₊˚⊹♡ GANGLE

۶ৎ Okay, she thinks you're very cool, but would be too shy to even talk to you if shes with the sad mask, although if she's with the happy mask she would try to strike a conversation with you.

۶ৎ Gangle would really like your aesthetic and vibes, she thinks its very unique but she is too insecure in either or not to approach you, the only times she ever approached were the brief chances she had to keep her happy mask intact.

۶ৎ If you do try to interact more with her she would be so happy, you two would probably get along very well, Gangle would be happy to hear you ramble about witchcraft, books, spells, anything about witches, she would literally be paying attention to every second of it!

۶ৎ You're probably Gangle's favorite person in the circus (don't tell the others) she'll share almost everything with you! as i mentioned before, i hc Gangle to be an artist so she'd probably draw you 🥹

۶ৎ Would watch your favorite movies with you, even if it's a tad disturbing or creepy, she'd try to deal with it to enjoy movie time with you, just don't put her to watch girl interrupted-

۶ৎ Your #1 fan.

ּ ֶָ֢ . KINGER

۶ৎ Huh

۶ৎ I don't think he would really react positively to you, if anything he'd be a bit scared, its kinger so his old grandpa mindset would kick in, the old man would probably think you're a demon of some sort.

۶ৎ Expect him to scream everytime he sees you or notices your in a five foot radium from him, if he's able to, kinger is going to bolt away from you pretty fast out of fear. (he may be an old man but fear makes people do unbelievable things)

۶ৎ Someone would have to try to explain to him that you're not an eldritch demon who came from hell to haunt him and the rest of the circus and that you're just a goth person that does witchcraft!

۶ৎ Key-word: TRY, because he's either going to forget it or not believe it, not mentioning that you'll have to make him understand that witchcraft isn't necessarily bad, its going to be complicated for him to understand, but don't worry, im sure he'll understand on the 114th try!

۶ৎ Once he gets the message he would really be indifferent about you.

⋆.˚ POMNI

۶ৎ She... doesn't really care, honestly, along with zooble, she wouldn't really care about you or your style, since she's like, fixated on finding the exit other than focusing on what the other members look like.

۶ৎ I think she would only really care about you and your hobbies if your magic comes in handy to help her escape or something like that, if not, she's just trying to leave man-

۶ৎ But if you guys became friends, she would try to listen about your 'lifestyle' but idk man she would really be unfazed by it cuz y'know she doesn't really care and ashahshhsejj

۶ৎ Uhm i guess that's it, im sorry i can't see Pomni really caring about it due to her personality 😭

✧₊⁺ ZOOBLE

۶ৎ They find it cool, not in the Gangle way, more in their chill way, Zooble would probably be your friend pretty easily compared to Gangle, they would just go "You're cool, wanna hangout?" and that's it.

۶ৎ I hc Zooble to be that chill friend, so they would be pretty fine whenever you decide to talk to them about your favorite spells or style and etc, Zooble would be just nodding but trust me they're listening carefully.

۶ৎ Zooble would agree on you trying to do their makeup but since their face is kind of... complicated, so they would deny to try and save you an headache.

۶ৎ You probably stay out of in house adventures to hang out with them, let's be honest its probably more chill and less stressful to hang out with Zooble than participating in house adventures, especially when Jax is in them.

۶ৎ Chill besties

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 2.3

Yoko, you're hilarious. Sirens going off in her brain. “Alert! They're into childhood bedroom crush confessions territory. Redirect! Redirect!”

But also I find them so ridiculous. All the men in this. Is it just a case of men always assuming women are talking more than they are? Because I am definitely not hearing Yoko talking for John here. Or is this a rare case?

Paul’s scouse getting progressively thicker as the argument intensifies. Trying to finish his point as John's interrupting him. “But. Bot! Boot!! I do think –”Ugh it's so sexy. Sorry, anyway. 

Paul's pep talk to John is super cute, but what does he mean, exactly? “we would actually all have dug to see you kick that telephone box in.”  What is this metaphor? What does he want John to break? Or does he just mean John should act out more?

Okay but in this interview, she's definitely doing 90% of the talking even when the interviewer specifically asks just John. So if that's how they are in meetings or whatever then okay I could see that being frustrating. 

Ow. Fuck. Hate that moment.

John: another Lennon/McCartney original entitled “All I Want is You”. Paul: Allan Wanna Too . . . Al Aronovitz. John: Al Aronovitz if you'll Aronovitz. We'll both Aronovitz together. Ugh sometimes you can just hear the voices in their heads being like “no don't tell him you like his song, that's pathetic! God, you're such a loser for even thinking it.” And sometimes . . . It's this. There's no in between. 

John knows if Paul's singing “Darling” he's talking to him. Look at his expression as he's watching Paul sing “stand by me Darling, Darling.”

“Dig it” is actually insane. Paul: if you want it, you can get it. You can get it if you can dig it up. John: I can hardly keep my hands still. John: if you want it all you gotta do is ask for it. Paul: (intermittent with John, starts a crescendo of “yeah. Yeah! Yeah! YEAH!” and “want it. Want it. Want it. Want it.”) John continues: Nicely. Say pretty please and you're gonna get it. You're gonna get it alright, you're gonna get it. This time you're gonna get it good!

The looks as they're making fun of something important to him. Poor George. 

See and here's the thing. If George knows basically what happened in India (which from this quote that's what I'm deducing) then Paul knows. You know?

Okay you know the “I love you, blue” moment from Get Back? I was feeling so devastated for John that there was no response to that and someone very smart pointed out in the tags that this moment could be interpreted as Paul's coded reply which I think is a lovely idea. And seems legit especially since John responds with song lyrics. 

Paul: no that's good, that one. John: okay, tick it. Paul: I Love that one. John: thank you. Paul: I really do. John: I enjoy it too sometimes. 

Peter Jackson why didn't you include these bits in your film? Huh? Huh? Was it because it was too homosexuality for you? 

John's voice singing “you can imitate anyone you know” over teeny clips of Paul doing about fifty different impressions. It's so phenomenal. 

John's “pleeeeeheeeease” actually makes me want to cry. He's begging with everything he's got. It's like he's a baby, really truly, and it physically hurts. If I was the one he was talking to in that song, I don't know if I could survive. 

But Paul is sure. They're stuck. He can't give John what he wants. 

Yoko tries to give John a kiss and he's so harsh. “Stop it!” If my boy ever talked to me like that . . . Let's just say I wouldn't be sitting with him at work anymore. 

And then he's laying with his head in her lap, laughing madly with Paul. See what I mean? If Paul would just let John lay in his lap, I guarantee Yoko would not be there.

A coded exchange PJ left out. You can tell when they start to talk in code just by their tone. Suddenly they're a bit more even-keeled, a bit slower, clearer in their speech. Paul: achieve something every day. It may in theory sound silly, but . . . John: in practice . . . Paul: it's even sillier. But in practice, it's all there is. John: this is where it's at. Paul: this is where it's at unless that is where it's at. John: this is where it's at now. Paul: teamwork. A good defense. John: you play ball with me and I'll play ball with you. Paul: could be learning something instead of this you know. 

There's a reason Let it Be is played at funerals, folks. 

Is it just me or has Paul literally never looked uglier? Linda's a babe, though. John and Yoko both look cool and hot ASF.

Again, the song choices. “Goodbye (Paul's Version. From the Vault.)” Played over the double wedding footage? Okay. Goodbye, my love.