#I realize something is wrong and it’s not letting me do something and I have to start over

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 700

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. this is just a short prologue to show how things end (yay happy endings!), but the two have a lot of trauma to go through before they reach endgame. i love kinich's character and design so i'm excited for this! interaction is highly appreciated :)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

Kinich thinks he’s loved you since forever.

He has no way of proving that, of course; those years are long gone, and even if he had the opportunity to ask, he’s not sure his younger self would have a comprehensible answer. He can only see now that he’s come so far, when the memories are too murky to make sense of but the warmth remains—when he thinks of your smile and feels something akin to the weightlessness of grappling and flying through the trees.

He says “forever” because he really has no idea when it started—the realization came far after the feeling. He’d been before school age when he met you for the first time, and it’s been over a decade since then.

“Kinich!”

Your call interrupts his thoughts, and his gaze is drawn skyward—you’re standing somewhere far above him, on one of the walkways lining the cliffs of the Scions of the Canopy. You’re waving so wildly and ridiculously that it almost makes him smile.

“Are you coming down?” he calls through cupped hands, well-acquainted with this kind of long-distance communication. Sound tends to echo well between the cliffs here, and he’s sure you heard him when you offer an enthusiastic thumbs-up in return. 

“Yup! I bought a few things, so I was hoping you could help me carry them home!”

Kinich rolls his eyes teasingly. “Somehow I doubt that you have enough Mora left to afford my services.”

You pout in reply. Ajaw decides to appear then, a malicious puff of smoke over Kinich’s shoulder. “Of course not! You better not be making fun of me, letting some mortal treat you like a servant! The Almighty Dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw, won’t take this kind of disrespect—”

Ignoring his wordy introduction, you call down to Kinich again. “I’m coming down! Think fast!”

“—Don’t make me lau—wait, what?!”

Even Ajaw yelps in surprise as you take a running leap off the walkway, freefalling fast down the plane of the cliff. If he were any younger, Kinich might’ve had a heart attack. But you’ve been pushing your luck with him for years, and it comes as instinct when Kinich grapples up, deftly catching you in his arms with a light ‘oof’.

You’re holding a few boxes in your arms, he notices, and you smile. 

“I bought some Puff Pops for us to share later. I was thinking we can do some climbing, or there’s this cave I’ve been meaning to explore.”

His heart does a sort of flip that cannot be attributed to the way you fly through the sky. It’s all so much: the sensation of your warmth pressed against him, the scent of the wind rushing past, and the laughter of his tribe members below. Their eyes shine as they watch the two of you pass above them, chuckling at the familiar sight. 

And really, he can’t remember ever being this happy. When he thinks of how much it took to reach this point, the heartbreak and trauma aren’t the first things to come to mind. Instead, it’s you. The way you held him, the way you cried for him, the way you chased him. Always laughing, always in love.

Too lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice your curious stare for a moment. You poke at his cheek, and he startles, nearly dropping you both.

“Is something wrong?” you ask shyly, suddenly self-conscious of the box in your hands. “We don’t have to do any of that. Really, if you have a high-value job or something, I understand.”

Ajaw decides to butt-in again, reddened with rage. “Yes, all of that sucks! I mean, seriously, don’t you have anything better to do—”

“No, it’s great,” Kinich murmurs in reply, flicking Ajaw away with a strong hand—the Saurian’s roar dissipates with the wind. He holds you tighter against his chest. There’s nothing worth more to him than you. “That all sounds really, really amazing.”

As the two of you burst through the trees, laughing the whole way, he thinks that it doesn’t really matter when he started to love you. All that matters is that he doesn’t stop.

Kinich thinks he’ll love you forever.

[onlyhyunjin]

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒!

(♡) - my personal favorites (🔞) - CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT

NEW BEGINNINGS - @ikeuverse (flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.) (♡)

MARRY ME - @ikeuverse (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

TIDES OF REGRET - @pprodsuga (in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.) (♡)(🔞)

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER - @i2sunric (your daughter asks heeseung to tell the greatest love story of all and he takes the chance to narrate how he met you, the love of his life.) (♡)

JUNE BLOSSOMS - @soobnny (synopsis. as the month of may ends, you wonder what june holds for you and heeseung (especially with no more need to fake date.)

LATE SUMMER LOVIN' - @4am-enha (you desperately want to spend your last summer here in town with your friends, only to find out almost all of them are away on vacation. that is, all of them but heeseung. the one friend you’d never really been that close with.)

BITE ME - @drunkhazed (“I’m kind of confused still.” You admit, anxiously shuffling to sit without making eye-contact. Heeseung chuckles plopping down by your side, arm slinging back over your shoulder to keep you pressed against him.)(🔞)

COFFEE & CREAM - @ham-st4r (one chilly night after a long work shift, you’re unfortunately forced to walk home. Cause you left your bag at work, half way through your journey you stumble across a homeless man who you naturally offer money to, and he though he refuses. You give it to him anyway, and down the road, you’ll find that those two dollars changed not only his life but yours as well.) (🔞)

IT'S CUPID, STUPID - @mygnolia (To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?)

FUCK BUDDIES - @hajunzi (y/n and heeseung and fwb after heeseung win in his football match y/n gives him the best reward)

TEETH - @gyuuberryy (you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.)

PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM - @simpjaes (You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off.) (🔞)

RUDE - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)

I OFFER YOU MY EVERYTHING - @heegyukeluv (You never cared about sex, until you did. You grew too afraid of it, scared of disappointing the other person or showing your inexperience. But then you met Heeseung, the hot basketball captain that stole your heart and became your biggest fantasy. ) (🔞)

VERBOTEN - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.) (🔞) (♡)

10 DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE - @luvyeni (you and heeseung used to be bestfriends as children — he even told you he'd marry you one day. but then you went to highschool and things changed , he dyed his hair and started hanging out with a new group group of friends. through all that his love never changed for you — has yours changed for him?)

RENT A BOYFRIEND - @jayujus (in which jeon y/n is desperate to find a boyfriend ASAP because she needs a date for her family's mixer. her best friend, ningning, introduces her to a website perfect for this situation!)

CHERRY CHAPSTICK - @angelwonie (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After weeks of looking forward to a quiet day with you and Rose, Bradley almost messes up his own Father's Day celebration. He's lucky you're quick to forgive him. Every day with his daughter is a collection of moments he wants to commit to memory. Every day with you makes him fall more in love.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, blowjob, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Do you have any big plans for Sunday? For Bradley's first Father's Day?"

You looked up from your computer when you realized Cat was talking to you. Truthfully, you did have plans, but they weren't big at all. Your husband just kept telling you that all he wanted was to spend the day with just the three of you.

"Isn't it kind of Jake's first Father's Day, too?" you countered with a grin. When Cat sputtered instead of actually answering, you felt like you'd won this wrong of proverbial chess against a master. "It's okay... you don't have to admit it out loud, but I just know Jake is exceeding all of your expectations."

She dropped down into the seat next to you and leaned in like she was afraid someone else might be listening. "He took Jer to the park with Bradley and Rose the other evening."

"I know," you replied with a laugh. "I needed to clean my house, so I kicked Bradley out and told him to call his bestie, Jake."

Cat looked a little panicked now. "No, you don't understand. I can trust him to take care of Jeremiah."

"Yeah... that's good, right?"

"I don't know!" she hissed. "When I moved to California, it was my intention to never ever get involved with a man again. Just me and Jer. And then when he went away to college, I was going to start collecting exotic pets or something."

You tried not to laugh. "Yeah, Jake kind of ruined that agenda for you, huh?" She buried her face in her hands, and to your surprise, she started crying. You glanced around the lab, but Macy wasn't paying any attention as you put your arm around Cat's shoulders. You were very confused as you whispered, "Are you okay?"

Cat's dark eyes were wet with tears as she met your gaze while somehow shaking her head and nodding at the same time. Her voice was raspy and uneven as she said, "He bought an engagement ring."

"Jake proposed?" you gasped, ready to jump out of your seat. You knew for a fact he wanted to, but he kept saying he didn't think the time was exactly right yet. 

"No. I found the ring. He's terrible at hiding things."

You sat quietly for a minute while she worked at getting herself under control, but then more questions started to formulate in your mind. "I know this isn't where you saw yourself, Cat. I know trusting Jake after leaving your ex is something you've struggled with, but if you love him, then what's holding you back?"

Her fingertips were pressed to her lips, and her hand was shaking. You weren't sure she had even heard your question as she stared off into space and said, "I can't even accurately describe it, because it was so pretty. The diamond was huge. Absolutely enormous. Obviously expensive." She paused and pulled away from you, opening her computer like she didn't just let herself fall apart on your shoulder. "And I have nothing to offer except a child that isn't biologically his and a crippling amount of debt that I'll probably never see the end of." When you opened your mouth to respond, she slammed her computer shut again and said, "And now I'm late to meet with Bickel," before rushing out of the lab.

You stared at the door for a few seconds before you took your phone out and started to draft up a text for Cat. You didn't see her again for the rest of the day, and you didn't send the text until you got home with Bradley and Rose. But you meant every word of it.

You're tenacious and strong, and that's worth a lot more than money. You're the kind of person someone would want to buy a big diamond for.

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

"Why is everything so expensive?" Bradley muttered to himself. "Holy hell."

He was trying to plan out the few days he would have alone with you when your parents came out again for Independence Day. Going back to the oceanfront boutique hotel in La Jolla where you and he had celebrated his birthday two years ago was going to cost a fortune over the holiday.

"Rose isn't going to need money for college anyway," he mused, shrugging at his phone before charging the room to his credit card for three nights. His daughter was going to be a genius. She was already so strong, trying her best to roll over and getting better at holding her head up without support. Suddenly he needed to see her.

Bradley tossed his phone aside and headed for the nursery where you were feeding Rose in the glider chair. When you looked up at him expectantly, he said, "I missed you."

Your gaze was soft as he sat down on the floor next to your feet. "We were with you ten minutes ago."

"Ten minutes ago? No wonder I was getting so lonely," he whispered, reaching out to run his finger along the back of Rose's hand. "Hey, Nugget."

She paused, lips pursed, before she continued eating. It was unreal how adorable she was. Bradley could look at his daughter all day long and never grow tired. He could look at your tits dripping milk all day long, too.

"Let me burp her," he said, making grabby hands as soon as she started to slow down. "It's my favorite."

You handed Rose, who was already dressed in her sleeper, to him, kissing him on the cheek as you stood. "Should I just keep these out for you?" The way you gestured at your breasts left a smile on his face.

"Please. I would very much enjoy it if you did."

You stretched your arms over your head and said, "I'll meet you either in the shower or in bed." Then you were gone, and he was excited to burp the baby and then do whatever you let him do to you.

"Let's see if we can get a nice, big burp out of you so you'll sleep for a few hours," he muttered, pulling one of the many storybooks down from the shelf from his spot on the floor. He'd read every book in the room to her multiple times already, and he couldn't wait until she started to have favorites. Tonight he read about a dragon while he patted and rubbed her back, pausing every page or two to kiss her soft cheek.

She was yawning by the last page of the book, and she did indeed burp for him. When he set her gently in her crib, Bradley whispered, "I can't believe I get to be your dad." He stood there, leaning on the side of the crib until he was certain she was asleep, then he headed for his own bedroom, unzipping his pants along the way.

Bradley found you naked in bed, fresh from the shower and rubbing lotion all over your legs. It was such a mundane yet intimate thing for him to watch, and you didn't realize he was in the doorway yet. "Get in bed," you told Tramp, nodding toward the fluffy mat he slept on next to the bathroom door. "You can't play with Rosie any more tonight. I'm sorry, but she needs to go to sleep after Daddy finishes reading to her."

"I'm finished reading to her."

Your gaze met his as your palms went gliding up your thighs, and you smiled a little shyly at him. Then you reached for the sheet like you were going to try to cover yourself, and he headed for the bed.

"Please don't, Baby Girl," he whispered. "I was really enjoying that view."

You paused and let your eyes drift down his body. "Get undressed and come here."

He did not need you to ask him twice. Bradley yanked his jeans off and tossed them aside followed by his tee shirt and his boxer briefs. You giggled when he climbed into bed in just his socks and hovered above you like he was going to do push ups with his hands planted next to your shoulders.

When he lowered himself down to give you a kiss, you raked your fingers through his hair. He knew there was no hiding how hard he was getting, so he didn't bother. He just pressed himself against you while you licked his bottom lip.

"You're really horny, Roo," you murmured, and he simply nodded. You let one hand drift down along his scarred cheek, and then you were touching your tits. 

He was salivating immediately. He could practically smell you. White beads of your milk formed on your nipples as you gently squeezed yourself, and he whimpered your name. His cock was tapping against your thigh in excitement as he lowered himself down to kiss your lips again.

"It's okay," you whispered. "I know you want to. Go ahead."

Bradley sighed and came to rest on his elbows, letting his mouth meet your nipples.

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

You spent all day Saturday running to three different grocery stores to buy ingredients for Bradley's Father's Day picnic lunch. It cost a small fortune to get everything you needed to make chicken salad sandwiches on homemade bread, a charcuterie board, fruit salad, and brownies. Your plan was to get up very early on Sunday to start making everything, but now Bradley's words made you feel like you were going to cry.

"I'm playing golf in the morning."

He was so nonchalant about it, you thought perhaps he was joking at first. But his expression showed a tiny bit of alarm and remorse, and you knew he was actually ditching you and Rose on Father's Day.

When you spoke, you hated how small your voice sounded. "You said all you wanted was a day with just the three of us."

"I do!" he insisted, reaching for you and pulling you close. "That's all I want. I promise I'll be home by lunchtime."

With that, you excused yourself to go to bed. You didn't bother to set an alarm, because what was the point? Rose would wake you up when she started crying her lungs out to eat, and Bradley would already be gone with Jake, Javy and Reuben. Honestly, you would have thought Jake would want to be home with Cat and Jer, and now you were mad at him, too. You thought about texting him but turned your phone screen side down on your nightstand and tossed your glasses aside instead.

A few minutes later, Bradley climbed in bed as well, and you could feel him trying to coax you closer. "I love you," he whispered, but you stayed curled up in a ball until you fell asleep.

Sure enough, he was gone when you woke up. You didn't even bother changing out of your pajamas to feed Rose. Your plans to wear a cute sundress seemed pointless now as you tried to appease your cranky daughter while you made chicken salad and baked a small loaf of bread.

"You'd probably calm down if your dad were here," you mused, handing her toy after toy only for her to push them all away. Finally Tramp had mercy on you and plopped down next to her on her play mat for a few minutes.

Of course the picnic foods looked absolutely perfect, and you struggled to get Rose burped and down for a late morning nap. "I swear you don't act like this for him," you groaned, fighting the urge to start crying. You'd been feeling better over the past few weeks. Your body was becoming more your own again, even though you were still sharing it with your daughter. The birth control and the healing time were certainly helping, but right now, you and Rose came in second place to a round of golf. On Father's Day.

She spit up all over you before she fell asleep, forcing you to change into your dress anyway. The wrapped present on the coffee table along with the homemade card were enough to make you set a timer for noon. If he wasn't back, you were going to eat the meal yourself. Your stomach was already growling.

But Bradley came through the door at 11:58 wearing gym shorts and a tank top with his aviators low on his nose. "Sweetheart," he said, sounding a little bit out of breath as he headed your way. "You look pretty."

Did he think you were stupid? You got up from the couch and turned off the timer. "Where were you, Bradley? Because you weren't playing golf dressed like that."

His cheeks flushed pink at the same time you noticed something wrapped around his right bicep. When he held his arm out to his side, you gasped.

"Why didn't you just tell me that's where you were going?" you whispered, tears burning your eyes. You felt frustrated and embarrassed that you got upset in the first place.

"I wanted to surprise you," he murmured, wrapping his left arm around your waist. "I've been waiting to do this since you told me you were pregnant." You buried your face against his chest and let yourself cry. "Shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said I was golfing. I panicked when they called me back and said they could fit me in this morning. I just really wanted to get my second paper plane as soon as possible."

He held you tight with both arms wrapped around you. "You said you just wanted a day with your girls, and I planned a picnic and got you a present, and then you said you wanted to fucking play golf," you sobbed. "Next time just tell me you're getting another tattoo, okay? Because now when you say you're going golfing, I'm going to think you're getting another one anyway."

"Hey," Bradley rasped, tilting your chin so you were looking up at him. "I'm spending the rest of today with my girls. That really is all I wanted to do today. I'm sorry I lied to you. I feel terrible about it now." His brown eyes were sincere which made you feel a lot better, and now you weren't mad at Jake anymore.

"Can I see it?" you whispered, and he immediately started to unwrap his arm. Right there next to the large paper airplane that had Baby Girl written across it was a smaller one that said Rose in the same script. "God, Roo. It's perfect."

"Just like my girls."

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

Okay, so he came within an inch of completely fucking things up on Father's Day. It wasn't like he planned it that way. He wasn't even sure why he said he was going to play golf. None of his friends would even make a tee time on Father's Day and include him. Or Jake for that matter. Plus, Bradley was fucking terrible at lying. He felt apprehensive the entire time he was getting the tattoo done.

It didn't even really matter if you knew about it ahead of time, but he wanted it to be a surprise declaration of his love for his family. Instead he made you stress out and cry, because of course you had a whole fucking day planned. You loved him that much.

He was right there with you and Rose for the rest of the afternoon. He changed her diapers and helped you pack up the food along with a bottle of pink champagne that was tucked way back behind everything else in the refrigerator. He carried everything out to the Bronco and got both of you buckled in. Then he started driving where you told him to.

"Are we going to our wedding venue?" he asked after a few minutes, and you started laughing.

"Is that what we're calling the parking lot?"

"Sweetheart. That's our wedding venue." Rose hadn't been to that beach yet, and now he was excited. So excited. "Rosie, we're going to show you where Mommy first kissed me and fell so in love that she's incapable of being mad at me even though I didn't tell her I was going to get tattooed this morning."

Now you were laughing harder, and you turned his playlist up a little louder, and the sun felt a little brighter. When he pulled into the parking lot, he backed into the spot where you became his wife, and then he strapped Rose into her baby carrier against his chest.

Bradley watched you pull Rosie's little sun hat out of the diaper bag, and you kissed her nose before putting it on her head. "Don't want you to get too much sun." Then you led the way down the rocky path to the sand below where you spread out a beach blanket. You tugged Bradley's hand until he was on his knees, and then you kissed his nose as well. "Don't want you getting too much sun either."

When he remembered the sunburn he got the day of Mickey's birthday kegger, he shuddered, but you were already squeezing some sunblock onto your hands and smoothing it along his face. You smiled when you got some in his mustache, and Bradley leaned closer to kiss you, and then he didn't want to stop. You ended up on your back on the blanket with sunblock on your nose while Bradley cradled Rose's head.

"Happy first Father's Day," you whispered, running your fingers up inside his sleeve to touch the wrapping around his bicep. "Rose is lucky you're her daddy."

The lunch you made was absolutely perfect. Bradley couldn't remember ever having homemade bread before, and he ate two sandwiches in a row. You and he drank the champagne from the bottle on the blanket before walking down to the water. Your tipsy giggles as he dipped Rose's toes in the water made him smile.

"She hates it!" you cackled when Rose pulled her legs up and wailed. Bradley lowered her down again when the next wave came in, and she pulled her feet away from the water once again.

"Aww, Daddy's sorry," he said, lifting her up and flying her around in the air like a plane to get her to calm down. "I'll take you to Virginia Beach where the water is warmer," he promised. "And we can go to the cemetery and visit Grampy Goose and Grandma Carole. How does that sound?"

His daughter looked much happier at the prospect of warmer water and more time with grandparents. Even though Bradley was here with his family, he couldn't help but think about everything he missed out on. Everything he was still missing out on. 

He never had a dad to fly him around or dip his toes in the water, at least not that he could remember. All he could recall were glimpses of laughter and being lifted out of his crib. He could almost hear a voice, but he wasn't sure if it was even Nick's or if his memory was playing a trick on him.

Bradley held onto Rose a little tighter as you let your head rest on his shoulder. Your voice was soft, barely loud enough for him to hear you over the waves. "I wish I could have met them. I wish they were here to see you with Rose."

He knew one thing for a fact. "They would have loved this little Nugget."

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

Quite effortlessly, Bradley led you back up the rocks while he carried Rose and all the gear. As soon as the sun started to set, the wind picked up and the air got chilly. Even though you nursed Rose, you knew she was going to need to eat again so she could fall asleep.

"Oh, you still have to unwrap your present," you told Bradley when you got home and walked past the living room table.

"Right now?" he asked with a smirk.

"If you want to."

He started to take your shirt off, and you ducked out of his grasp with a laugh. "Not me!"

"I don't want anything else though," he rasped, still reaching for you, but you pushed him toward Rose on her play mat instead.

"She needs a quick bath while you open your present, and then I'll give you a blowjob after she's in her crib."

"Hell yes," Bradley muttered, scooping up the baby and the wrapped gift and heading for the bathroom. You filled up Rosie's little tub, and he set her down in the water then started unwrapping the present but keeping his attention mostly on his daughter. 

"Do you like it?" you asked over your shoulder, and then he realized he was holding a book. A book about him and you and Rose and Tramp.

Bradley flipped through the pages, staring in awe at the cartoon versions of his family. Each of you had been drawn as a superhero, and even the sketched version of Tramp was wearing a little red cape.

"This is the cutest thing I have ever seen. How did you get this?"

"I had it made," you told him. "I sent photos of all of us to a local artist, and she created the book for you."

"Damn," he whispered, tears in his eyes as he looked at each page again. "I'm such a sappy mess now, I swear." Then he sat down on the floor next to you while you rinsed the sand from Rose's tiny feet and started to read the book out loud. "Once upon a time, the Super Bradshaw Family was just about to eat dinner when Super Dad Bradley's phone rang. The city of San Diego needed help, and there was nobody better to turn to."

The story was fun, and the drawings were silly, and he just knew Rose would probably adore this book when she got a little bit older. And he was so lucky he had a wife who did things like turn him into a cartoon superhero for Father's Day and make him a four course picnic lunch.

He also had a wife who dropped to her knees as soon as they were alone. You looked up at him as you pulled his shorts and underwear down to his thighs, kissing his cock as you whispered, "There's my Super Daddy Bradley."

He grinned as he pulled his shirt off as well, enjoying how pretty you looked below his flat abs with your hand cupping his balls. "You absolutely own me, Baby Girl. I'm a fucking wreck for you. I'm all tattooed for my girls now. If you want me to be your Super Daddy, you know I will be."

You licked your lips and parted them, and then Bradley was in heaven.

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

I need Jer to have a dad. I need it in my bones. I also need Bradley to have a sensational 38th birthday before he packs his bags and goes to La Jolla with his wife for three days in bed. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

@bethabear12

@halo-mystic

@sherlockstrangewolf

@theamuz

@khaylin27

[chrisbesitos]

Okay heres another Ballerina!reader x Dealer!chris idea:

Reader is WORN OUT from recital practice, but cant rest until she gets that ONE specific part just right (totally not projecting) so shes working on it for HOURS at home (even with the bloody feet, belive me, its a regualr thing) and REFUSES to stop

idk if that makes any sense but yea

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀you're in love

( warnings: angst (a little bit), mentions of blood, cursing, fluff.

( synopsis: chris helps you when things get harder and you can't stop practicing your choreography for the recital.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀🩰 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱

Perfectionism. You always were a perfectionist, at school, at university and at ballet. You have the urge to be perfect and thus fuck with your head, because you don't think you can stop until your good enough. Sometimes it seems like you never will be enough and this hurts, causes not only mentally bruises, but physically too.

Well, you're accustomed to this, because it's how your brain works. Even though the pain is killing you, consuming your feet and legs like a plague. Take a deep breath and keep going, that's what you always says.

It's been hours since you're trying to do a step of your choreography perfectly, but for some reason, you can't do it right. Well, not the way you want to do. Your phone buzzing on the floor takes your attention, almost making you fall in the middle of a pirouette, you groan as you lower down to grab. It was Chris, calling you for the fifth time.

"Damn, doll. I've been calling ya', where have you been?" Chris asks through the phone, you huffs opening the cap of the bottle, taking a few sips breathing hard. "What ya' doin'? I'm fishin' some deals, wanna eat something?"

"Thank you, baby, but now I can't." You reply, holding the phone with the shoulder against your ear. You shift your feet, feeling your fingers sore, you groan in pain. "Shit." You murmured.

"Ya' good, doll?" He asks, concerned about his girl. You nod, forgetting for a moment he's not seeing you.

"Yeah, I'm just practicing now." You bite your lower lip, you need to go back to your training. "Uh, baby, what about you brought us some food? I'll have finished when you arrive here."

"Fine, doll, mind if I choose?" You deny, so Chris okay it and turned off.

You finally could go back to your practice, now putting your phone on the mute. You can't stop more, not even for calls. Chris takes more than a half hour to arrive at your place, you didn't even notice when he gets in. The smell of fresh burgers makes your stomach groans, it's been hours since your last meal, but you didn't realize you were starving until now.

"You still doin' that shit? You said you'll be ready when I get home." He says, putting the bags on the kitchen table, he looks at the living room. The couch was out of his usual place, the tv paused on the song of your choreography and you.

You were kinda a mess. Your hair is tied in a messy bun, strands of hair sticking in your sweat forehead and your cheeks red.

"Did you get attacked by a rabid raccoon?" He chuckles, you roll your eyes ignoring him. Chris raised his eyebrows at her sassy behavior, sipping his soda. "Stop that shit, let's eat."

"In a few minutes, I need to finish this." You say, turning the music on again. Chris sits in the corner of the couch, watching you do your choreography. He smiles, he loves to watch you dance, your delicate movements and the way your body moves, drives he crazy. "Fuck!" You scream, visibly frustrated with your dance, Chris frowned his eyebrows, you were perfect for him. He rested his cup on the ground, lifting from the couch to move towards you.

"What's wrong, huh? You were perfect." Chris says, cupping your cheeks with his hands. Tears were pricking in your waterline from the frustration of failure, Chris sighs pulling you closer to his chest, caressing your back with his fingers. "You're doin' great, babydoll."

"I'm not perfect." You sob on his chest, Chris shakes his head moving you to the couch, he sits and puts you on his lap. He holds your chin, making you look at him with your tearing eyes. "If I stop now, I'll not be good enough." You say, trying to get out of his lap, to get back to your practice, but Chris holds your waist, holding you hard.

"You're good enough, doll. You're perfect f'me." Chris said, cleaning your tears with his thumbs. You sniff with a little pouty in the lips, Chris chuckles cupping your cheeks. "You're the best, babydoll." He kisses your nose.

"I don't feel like I am." You whisper, leaning your head to Chris shoulder, he sighs and massages your scalp. "I'm so tired, my feet hurt." You murmured.

"How about you stop for tonight? Tomorrow I can help you with this." He caresses your thighs through the pantyhose.

"You're gonna dance with me?" You ask, lifting your head with a smile on your lips and your eyes sparkling. You always ask Chris to dance with you, but he always denies.

"Of course no, ma." He rolls his eyes, shifting on the couch with you on his legs. You huff, crossing your arms on the chest, Chris laughed undoing the ribbon from the pointe shoe you were wearing. "I said that I'm gonna help you, not dance with you."

"You're so annoying." You say, removing the claw clip of your hair and putting it aside on the couch. Chris tugged off both of your pointe shoes, gently putting on the ground, he rubbed your feet and your fingers.

"I can leave with this." He shakes his shoulders. "Uh, doll? Your feet are bleeding, is that supposed to happen?" Chris asks with a concerned look at you, he frowns his eyebrows when you slightly nod.

"It happens sometimes, it's okay." You say, caressing his shoulder, you offer him a gentle smile, saying that's everything ok. He rubbed your legs, still worrying about your bloody feet.

"Let me take care of this, 'kay?" He kisses your jaw, gently putting you on the couch.

Chris cleaned the blood from your hurt feet, putting curatives on your fingers, he also put ice and massaged until the pain was gone. He didn't let you walk to the kitchen table, he brought the food to the couch and put on tv your favorite show, he makes sure you're comfortable and good. After finishing eating, he ran you a bath with your favorite products — he's favorite also, because he loves how you'll smell after shower — and he didn't let you move a finger, because he does all the work and you don't complain.

In your bedroom, laying on the bed and under the blanket with all of your stuffed animals on the floor, Chris caresses your thighs with his finger, kissing your lips passionately. Your hands resting on his chest, scratching a bit with your nails, a smile grows in your face when he breaks the kiss.

"You're really not gonna dance with me?" You ask, with a little pouty in your lips.

"Not doin' that shit, go to sleep." Chris says, rolling his blue eyes and lifting to turn the nightstand lamp off. The last sound in the room before the silence was the sound of your laugh, before Chris held your waist and pulled you closer.

he's just a boy in love (but he doesn't know lol) ;)

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2

taglist | masterlist

[rafey-baby]

hidden 3

cw: outlaw!rafe being his usual self, hostage situation, mentions of murder, pogue!reader having some sexual awakenings & some backstory on rafe

wc: 2.3k

hope u enjoy xx

part 1 part 2

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  

The following morning, her eyes groggily open in her own bed; covers tucked over her shoulders and head comfortably propped up by her pillow. She finds herself perplexed, doesn’t know how she ended up here since her last coherent memory from last night is sitting on the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck and letting her heavy lids close for what was originally supposed to be a few minutes.  

Her sock-clad feet pad over to the living room where Rafe is rummaging through some of his papers and whatnot; appearing as busy as ever.  

”Why don’t I remember coming home last night?” She stops to stand next to him. 

”Cause you sleep like a fucking rock. Had to carry you to your room,” he sounds disinterested, not even bothering to lift his head from the piece of paper he’s pinching between his fingers. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be some sort of a contract; letters unfortunately too tiny for her to be able to read from where she’s standing. 

“Oh. Thanks?”

Instead of leaving her passed out in his car like she would’ve assumed, he tucked her into bed? Maybe he owns a heart, after all.  

“It’s whatever,” he dismisses her while reading something over; seemingly deep in thought.  

“Do you— do you need help with that?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” his hand lifts up to scratch at the back of his head before he scribbles something down.

”Right…” she trails off, apparently rooted in her spot and unable to move.  

”Did you want something or what?” His tone is suddenly exasperated, eyes finally flickering up to peer into hers along with his brows raising expectantly.  

”No, I just…are we going somewhere today?” She can’t help but feel a little out of place in her own home with him there; almost as if she’s waiting for his next command to know what to do next. It makes something peculiar swim in the pits of her stomach.  

”Nah, just have to go over these. Can you, I don’t know, go to your room or something? You’re bothering me with your staring,” he grumbles and shifts into a more comfortable position on the couch; not sparing her another ounce of attention.  

”Okay,” she mumbles, a frown taking over her visage.  

Honestly, she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do now. Normally, she’d go to work at the surf shop near the beach but since Rafe so kindly took her phone and texted everyone in her contacts about a family emergency that would take some days to sort through, she can’t exactly do that. And besides work…well, she doesn’t really have much else going on in her life. It’s sad, really, how a literal criminal forcing his way into her house is the most exciting thing to happen to her in the past few years.  

All things considered though, she doesn’t mind living a quiet life in the Cut, just sometimes wishes she didn’t feel so…lonely. And don’t get her wrong, she has friends, she just sometimes yearns for something deeper than fun boat adventures or getting high with her feet dangling over the dock while a tangerine-colored sunset paints over the horizon.  

She’s always had this dream of traveling around the world or simply just somewhere that wasn’t the Outer Banks but her parents never had the money for it. Therefore, she settled and learned to earn a living by herself in order to keep a roof over her head.  

And she’s been content with her simple life, even considers herself to be happy but then she sat on Rafe’s lap and at the realization of him getting hard from her unconscious rubbing against him felt butterflies in her belly, maybe for the first time in her life. It was something she thought only happened in movies yet there they were; their fluttering wings poking at her core like some vicious reminder that she hadn’t let someone make her feel good in ages.  

Truth be told, she grew tired of guys not being able to make her come because they didn’t understand her needs; didn’t even bother to find them out which is why she sort of lost hope for the whole thing altogether. But then Rafe steps inside her home uninvited and is nothing but mean to her and suddenly she...

It's wrong.

It doesn't make any sense yet she still can't help but feel a certain pull towards him whenever he's close. And she doesn't like it one bit; wants to forget about it as quickly as the thought breaches her mind.

It's far too complex for her perplexed mind to grasp onto, which is why she confuses it for insanity; simply decides that she’s going crazy. And maybe she is, because why else would she suddenly care for Rafe? Why is a hidden part of her heart beginning to harbor gooey, fond feelings for a killer who’s technically holding her hostage? 

She’s sure her muddled brain is going to explode if she thinks about the matter any longer; instead opting to take a long, scalding shower due to the clothes she’s been wearing since yesterday starting to stick to her sweaty skin and making her feel even filthier than she already does. 

Unfortunately, the steaming water doesn't quite wash away the ache between her thighs.

She’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over the damp strands of her hair when harsh knuckles rap against her bedroom door and Rafe enters a second later; not even bothering to wait for a response.  

”Change of plans—” his words die down on his tongue when he notices her current state.  

”Rafe, what the fuck?” She quickly adjusts the hem over her waist, painfully aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any pants and his eyes are now fixed on the lace of her panties practically on show for him. 

”Why are you just barging into my room like that? I could’ve been naked!” She complains before snatching a pair of shorts off her floor; tugging them over her hips.  

”Shit, wouldn’t have minded if you were. Got a nice ass for a Pogue,” he shrugs while sporting an irritating smirk that makes her glare at him.  

”And you’ve got no manners for a Kook. Except, I’m not surprised,” she rolls her eyes when he feigns shock; exaggeratedly dropping his jaw.

”Puppy’s getting angry, huh? Where’s this attitude coming from? Thought you were still scared of me?” He belittles her with a condescending tinge in his laugh. 

And she’s about to respond when out of the blue the ring of her doorbell reverberates around the house.  

They both tense.  

“You’re expecting someone?” His tone turns bleak, frigid; inducing shivers to litter across her arms as her head turns towards the source of the sound.  

”N— no. I’m not,” she stutters because truthfully, she doesn’t have a clue as to who could be at her door in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.  

”Did you fucking call someone?” He takes a threatening step towards her and she panics.   

”No! I promise, I didn’t. I don’t even— you literally have my phone, remember?” She tries to fruitlessly defend herself.  

”I swear, if you’re lying right now—”  

”I’m not, okay? I didn’t call anyone!” She reassures once more, although it seems like he’s not even listening anymore. Therefore, she tries to be logical. ”I should— I should go and see who it is, right?” 

The icebound water in his eyes bores into her as he weighs out his options. 

”Right, right. Yeah, you should do that," he finally settles on. "But if you even consider telling them anything, I swear I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” He grits out into her face and she flinches when she can feel his harsh breaths hit her mouth with each syllable.  

She quickly nods before teetering towards the entrance of her home and twisting the lock with precarious fingers.

Soon, she’s standing in front of two men wearing police uniforms. 

”Oh, sorry for the wait. Was um…in the bathroom. How can I— uh, help you?” She tries to appear unfazed; inhaling slowly and doing everything she can in order to not look as guilty as she feels. 

”We apologize for the inconvenience but we’ve been assigned to ask around the island in order to locate a criminal who’s potentially a threat to our entire community,” one of them says and she thinks his jaded eyes are peering into her soul and seeing right through her rickety facade. 

”Have you seen this man recently?” The other guy dangles a picture of Rafe in the air. She takes a moment to properly look at the photo as to not answer too quickly.  

“N— no, sorry. Can’t say I have. Why? Who is that?” She bats her lashes in confusion as her poor heart thuds in her ribcage. She wonders if they can hear it. 

”This is Rafe Cameron. You might’ve heard about Cameron development? He became the owner after his father’s death a few years back. And now we have reason to believe that he’s the main suspect for the murder of a fellow officer,” he states with a serious expression. 

”Oh, that’s…that’s terrible,” her eyes widen in shock because she had no idea Rafe was a Cameron. Of course, she’d heard everyone talking about what had happened with Ward Cameron and the rumors surrounding the gold but she’d never cared enough to dig through for more information about the rest of his family.  

”Seems like the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree considering what Ward did to Sheriff Peterkin,” the one with the piercing stare snickers and her brows furrow because she doesn’t think the topic is all that hilarious.  

”I remember watching that in the news when it was all happening. Didn’t you guys also arrest an innocent Pogue with no actual proof?” Her question is sharp because the whole case still itches her in the wrong way. 

”That was— listen, I wasn’t even here back then, it was all very tragic. But the investigation on this case is still ongoing and we have a reliable witness claiming they saw Rafe dragging something heavy near the ocean the night before we found the body washed up on the shore. And according to multiple sources Rafe was the last person seen with our coworker at the island club a few hours prior to his death,” the guy explains and she momentarily wonders if they’re even allowed to share this much classified information with her.  

”Right. Well, I really wish I could help you but I unfortunately haven’t seen him,” her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek and she wonders if they can tell that she’s lying. 

“At this point, it seems like no one has. We’re suspecting that he might’ve fled the country. Anyway, we’ve got orders to search every house but honestly, we don’t think he’d be on this side of the island. So, we’re not gonna waste our time on that. Call this number if you notice anything out of the ordinary, though?”  

”Yes, of course. I really wish there was more I could do to help. Hope you guys find him soon,” she offers them a tight smile.  

”We’ll do our best,” they assure her before the door finally closes.  

Her back slides down against the wood as her labored breathing begins to slow down. She closes her eyes in a moment of relief until she feels Rafe’s presence interfering with her peace.  

”Who knew you were such a good liar? Shouldn’t believe everything you say too easily then, should I?” His gaze travels down her form and he genuinely seems impressed.  

”You killed a cop?” She decides to ignore his teasing. 

”Relax. He was a sleazy bastard who was helping me with some side business and became too greedy. What can I say? Don’t like being used. But believe me, he was not a good person,” he answers her question, maybe for the first time ever. 

”Right, right,” she tries her very best to understand where he’s coming from but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to be able to justify ending someone’s life with such indifference. In her opinion, he doesn’t have the right to decide whether someone gets to live or not; no matter how good or bad of a person they are. 

”Listen, I didn’t mean to do it, it just…happened, okay?” He tries to explain himself and he almost sounds vulnerable. She nearly feels bad for him.  

”You know, I could go to jail for helping you!” She snaps when frustration bubbles to the surface instead.  

”Calm down, Pup. You’re not going to jail, alright? And watch that fucking tone, yeah?” His hands rest on his head as he begins to pace around the hallway.  

”I just— cops don’t care about Pogues. If they find out I lied to them they’re gonna put me behind bars cause unlike you, I don’t have the money to bail myself out,” she tries to pointlessly reason with him.  

”Already told you, nothing’s gonna happen to you, okay? Now can you shut the fuck up so I can think?” He demands, halting his movements.  

”Did they, uh, tell you anything?” He speaks up again and she tells him everything she remembers from the brief conversation while he mulls over his situation. 

”Right, right. So, they don’t actually have any real proof about me killing the guy? Just speculation,” he confirms.  

”I guess, yeah? But I don’t know if they even know all the details about the case,” she offers in response and can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.  

”They didn’t happen to mention who the witness was?”  

”N— no, why?” Her voice wavers as she swallows around the question. 

He lifts his head to inspect her reaction when he seems to have finally conjured up some sort of a plan to clear his name.  

”Think I’m gonna have to pay him a little visit. And you’re gonna help, aren’t ya?”

She would very much like to find out whatever sin she committed in a past life that weighed so heavily that it made her end up in a position as wretched as this one.

[d1g1tal-d1ary]

Part 2 of my addicted!Simon headcanon!!

Price always had a lot going on; being the Captain of a Task Force demanded a lot of time, energy and most of all - nerves.

So when one of the nurses on base had pulled him aside and said that she suspected someone stealing Morphine, all he did was nod and call in a meeting. Luckily, everyone had obliged to giving him a urine sample to let it be tested for drugs.

What no one seemed to notice was Simon's eyes staring into nothingness as all he did was pray that his heavy heart wouldn't give his covers away. His head was spinning because he searched for a way out of this - there had to be a way he didn't have to take it. And suddenly his mind started to wander off to you; the only one who'd met him without knowing he was Ghost. The only one who knew he had a problem - a fucking big one right now - and the only one who understood him was you.

One hand tightly gripping the little cup, the other one knocking loudly on your door. He didn't hesitate when the door opened; he simply pushed it open and walked into your tiny apartment.

"Simon?" you asked with a frown plastered on your face. You hadn't expected him - of course you hadn't so all you were wearing was one of your cute pyjamas you avoided to wear around him normally. "Is everything okay?"

"I messed up," was all that came across his lips with a heavy sigh. When his gaze met yours, all he could do was put the cup on your kitchen table and point at it. "I need your help."

You stepped closer and eyed the little cup and when you realized what exactly he'd asked you to do, you shook your head. "No, I'm not helping you fake a drugtest."

"Please, luvie," his eyes studied your face - he reduced the distance between you two quickly and took your face into his rough and calloused hands. "I'll never ask anythin' of you ever again. Just let me keep my job, fuck- it's the only thing that's been keeping me sane all this time."

Of course your heart sank when you heard his pleading and even more so when you looked up at him and you could see the desperation in his blue eyes. After moments had passed - which felt like years for Simon - you'd finally nodded and given in to him.

"I knew you'd understand," he whispered and pecked your lips before letting you go take the drugtest.

You'd never felt so dirty in your life. Pissing into a little cup while Simon waited impatiently outside the bathroom made you feel greedy and so, so worthless. But if you were being honest; there was nothing you wouldn't do for Simon. Of course you weren't supporting his addiction - that was the main reason you had broken up, after all. But he was your Simon. The closest you'll ever get to finding unconditional love.

A few days after Simon had given the sample to Price - he'd been the last to hand it over - the test results finally came. And Price would never doubt his team; they'd done everything together for years at this point, but he could also imagine one of his soldiers having an addiction as it was nothing new.

To his surprise and relief, all the test results came back negative. But looking at Simon's results made him frown - or more so, all he could do was huff at the result.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Simon had stepped into Price's office; not even thinking that it could have anything to do with the drugtest as he knew you hadn't taken any.

Price's eyes never left Simon's form. He watched him intensly as he took the seat across from Price's desk. "Yeah, well, the results came back and since you're L.T., I thought you'd deserve to know before everyone else."

Simon hummed in response while leaning back, silently thanking you again.

"Luckily, everyone's negative," Price announced which made Simon even more relaxed. "But.. The Lab was a bit confused and thought something went wrong as Simon Riley's clearly a male name."

"Captain, I don't think I can follow you," Simon had frowned under his balaclava.

Price barked a bitter laugh as he looked at the Lieutnant in front of him. "They found the hormone Beta-hCG in your piss. You wanna know what that means?"

All Simon could do was nod; unaware of what's to come.

"The fuckin' piss is from someone who's pregnant," Price lowly said. "So now we not only know this wasn't your piss, but I think you two would've been smart enough to know we‘d find out. So, Riley, should I say congratultions?"

Y‘all wanna read part 3???!!! 🙏😭

[hcfiles]

Of course, you can't believe everything you hear, and should not. If I write a lot of nonsense about HC on forums, who would believe that? It's simple: people lie, especially when they want to eliminate someone, they'll invent rumours to that aim. If you believe it without checking, you can easily believe in antivax and all the other conspiracy theories too! I see that there are a lot of rumours about him, but there's no proof. And of course it's always in the forums! The incident on the set of Tudor made him uncomfortable playing sex scenes because there were people around him. It must have been a gradual process. In the interviews with Amy Adams, she and the journalist made sexual references, and he was clearly uncomfortable. He realised why he was called in the films: for his looks. That couldn't help him excel. Finally, these accounts that reveal blinds do it mostly for the views.

You said something interesting: that he realized why he was called for the movies and that it was for his looks. Did he really have the illusion it was for his acting skills? Let's admit it: As an actor, he may have potential, but still has A LOT to learn and evolve. And, if surprised about the reason he was chosen, I wonder why. Wasn't he the first to sell himself as a sex symbol and to say he was on the job, for the money was good? What did he expect? As an actor, he's usually stiff (probably for being very shy and insecure). To the industry, he's great for action, hero movies. But, he needs to evolve his skills for drama and even comedy. He couldn't even let loose and relax on Boy George's video. He was clearly uncomfortable and showed that, depending on the role, he might only perform it if there's no choice and he sees himself trapped and obligated. Or he will arrange an excuse to leave or to be fired from production. But, this discussion he brought about sex scenes, as he touched on the subject in an interview for Josh, could be for feeling uncomfortable with them or TO GIVE THE IDEA HE IS UNCOMFORTABLE AND GENERATE THE DISCUSSION. People are being manipulated. And, what is curious about this is to see him bringing the discussion when it has been said his promiscuous PR is actually, a cheap porn actress. Don't get me wrong. I do believe he feels uncomfortable with sex scenes and I agree sometimes they seem unnecessary, despite appealing. But, this discussion called my attention and made me question: Why bring it? It is as if he had faced some trouble in a production because of it. So, was that the reason he left (was fired) from TW? For denying taking his clothes off and performing sex scenes? But, isn't he a jerk with women? A jerk with women wouldn't care and even would like to perform them. So, what's the truth?

[toruily1]

jerking megumi off.

0.8k

MDNI

standing behind megumi, completely bare from the tips of your toes up to your flushed red neck, letting him guide your hand up and down his cock, teaching you how to please him the way he likes.

he's equally as red, his whole body burning up from embarrassment at the thought of someone seeing him in such a state. if it was anyone else, he wouldn't have even entertained the idea.

but its you, and he'd do anything for you.

so when you came to him with wide eyes and a shaky voice, asking him if he’d teach you to get him off he couldn’t help but say yes, his cock stirring in his pants at the thought of your hand on him, squeezing and—

“a little tighter” he mumbles squeezing your hand. “you’re not gonna hurt me”

you stand on your tippy toes, looking over his shoulder as you tighten the grip you have on him, moving your hand up and down his length.

from this angle you can see everything. from his abs down to his V line and the thatch of black hair that leads towards his heavy cock, sitting firmly in the palm of your hand.

“w-what else?” you question, and the corners of megumi's lips tug up into a small grin at how you sound even more

you chose to ignore the amusement you hear in his tone when he replies, “use your thumb and play with the tip— it’s sensitive”

you can see his fat purplish tip and the string of his sticky white pre that drips from the tip.

at that, your thumb comes up and begins rubbing at the head, smearing the sticky pre down the length of his shaft. megumi sucks in a breath and for a second you think you’ve done something wrong— hurt him somehow and you’re about to let go, but when your eyes flick up towards his face you realize it’s anything but.

you can tell he's into it now, his eyes are hooded, lips parted slightly as moans out for you.

“yeah baby fuckkk— just like that,” he groans, letting his head fall back to lean on your shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets you take the reins. the hand on top of yours falls to his side, as you pick up the pace, hand squeezing him just a little tighter.

your thumb moves away from his tip, wanting to take your time, knowing that wasn’t something you could do if he came too fast and from how loud he was getting it was clear he was getting close. he lets out a shudder as the intense pleasure begins to fade slightly, breathing slowing down.

it doesn’t take you long to find a steady pace, hand jerking up and down, every so often applying pressure to his tip that leaves him groaning as bursts of pleasure shoots through him.

he’s practicing leaking pre, leaving your hand sticky with his arousal, making the glide of your hand easier.

after megumi gets his breathing back to normal he takes your hand in his once again.

“I like to have my balls played with.”

his hand guides your further down to his sac and you instantly take it into your hand, squeezing and toying with each of his heavy balls.

megumi moans, his body tensing as he attempts to hold himself back, not wanting to cum too soon. It was a futile attempt, especially with you standing so close to him, your scent radiating off of you and clouding his senses.

the feeling of your body pressed against his, your hard nipples rubbing against his back as you squeeze your legs together, desperately searching for friction to your aching clit as you watch megumi get closer and closer to the edge.

the sounds he's making going straight to your core.

megumi reaches behind him, pushing your legs apart just enough to allow his hand to slip through, calloused fingers instantly finding your sticky clit.

“mmm megu'—” you whine, legs bucking beneath you as he rubs your clit. you don’t even realize your hand has stopped moving, simply holding him in your hand.

“keep goin” he commands, bucking up into your hand and you instantly start to stroke his length once again, going back up to focus on the tip.

“m’close” he murmurs quietly, you feel his dick twitch in your hand. the hand playing with his balls squeeze just a bit tighter, not enough to hurt but enough to have him letting out a long groan, deep and broken when it’s paired with a squeeze to his tip.

“shitttt” that’s all the warning you get before megumi is going rigid against you as thick spurts of cum shoot from his tip, landing on the floor in front of him. your hand continues to stroke him through his orgasm, moving up and down slowly until his hand wraps itself around your wrist, stopping your movements.

[sorrowsofsilence]

If you take asks/requests can you do something with reader refusing any type of help or assistance in anything but she's so used to everything being thrown in her face or used against her so now she is just super hyper independent. She meets Noah and for a long time he doesn't understand why she never lets anyone help her until she opens up and quietly tells him that she can't trust people to not use the help they gave her against her eventually.

Super self indulgent here 🥺😟

if im here • n.s

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!reader

words: 2k

warnings: none

note: thank you so much for this anon. this is so relatable, and writing this felt so... therapeutic? i hope you enjoy this xx

THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

+

At first, Noah merely noticed it as a quirk; an oddity of hers that was borderline admirable. Any time he offered to help her carry anything, she would politely, but firmly decline. Once, when she was struggling with a stubborn jar of pasta sauce, he'd tried to help, only to have her snatch the glass away with a fierce glint in her eyes.

It was clear that she didn't need or want his assistance.

Even in times that seemed dire, she refused him. The time her tire popped and she struggled to fit it back onto the rims, and the time the bowl from the top shelf fell against the floor, smashing into pieces and cutting her hand.

He always assumed it was pride or a stubborn sense of independence. But over time, he realized there was something deeper lurking beneath the surface; a sort of wariness, a guardedness that was difficult to penetrate.

One evening, after they'd grown closer, they were sitting on Noah’s living room floor amidst several takeout boxes from the local chinese place. She was battling with a particularly tricky fortune cookie wrapper when Noah instinctively reached out to help.

"No," she said quietly, pulling her hand back as if his touch burned. Something in her eyes flickered, a strange mix of defiance and vulnerability that made Noah pause.

He sat there, watching with a defeated brow as he placed the chopsticks in his box of chow mein, shoulders slumped.

“Y/N…” Noah whispered, his eyes saddened as she struggled, throwing her head back in a frustrated growl.

“Why won’t you just let me help you? Ever?”

She sighed, placing the untouched cookie on the coffee table. Her hands folded in her lap, shoulders hunched as if bracing against an invisible force.

For a long moment, she was silent, refusing to glance at Noah as he waited, knowing better than to press.

"I can't trust people," she admitted, not meeting his gaze, "I can't trust them not to use the help they gave me, against me eventually."

Noah was silent, processing her words. His heart twisted at the bare honesty of her confession, the raw pain that lurked behind her fierce independence. He realized this wasn’t about jars or boxes; this was about survival, about safeguarding herself from the world around her that had done her wrong, time and time again.

"No one should ever use kindness as a weapon," he said softly, respecting her space but wanting her to know he was there, "And I promise you, I won't. Not now, not ever."

She looked up at him then, her eyes clouded with a wariness that made him want to reach out and reassure her. But he knew better now, knew that the last thing she needed was empty reassurances or hollow promises.

Instead, he simply held her gaze, letting his words hang between them as his promise to her. He wanted to show her that he was different and that not everyone would use their kindness against her.

She held his onyx gaze for a long moment before finally looking away. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, but there was still a guardedness about her. It was clear that it would take more than just words to convince her.

But Noah was patient; he knew that trust wasn’t built in a day.

It was something that had to be earned and nurtured, piece by piece. He might not have been able to erase the past or change the people who had hurt her before, but he could certainly try to be different, and show her she deserved to be cared for.

Over the next few weeks and months, Noah did his best to show her he was a man of his word.

He never imposed, never assumed. Each time a situation arose where she seemed in need of help, he waited, letting her make the first move.

Bit by bit, they began to navigate around this invisible barrier - a silent dance of respect and understanding. When she stubbed her toe and cursed under her breath, Noah remained silent, only moving when she held out her hand for assistance. When her car broke down one icy winter evening, instead of rushing over as he instinctively wanted to do, he waited for her call.

It was a slow process, one filled with silent understanding and unspoken words. But with each day that passed, Noah could see the progression. There were moments when she would hesitate just before refusing his help; moments that filled him with hope and reassurance that he was doing the right thing.

One day when an unexpected rainstorm caught them off guard on their way back from a late-night movie, he held out his coat as they stepped out of the theatre. He prepared himself for her usual refusal, the quick shake of her head and the pulled-down brim of her hat as she braved the elements herself.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, she looked at his proffered jacket for a moment before finally nodding, tugging it around her shoulders with a shy smile.

His heart leapt in response.

It was a small victory, but for Noah, it felt monumental. It was the first time she had willingly accepted his assistance without that familiar flicker of fear in her eyes. The rain sliced through the night, drenching them despite the coat, but neither cared.

One small step towards trust. One small step towards un-guilted help.

“Thank you,” She whispered, smiling up at him. Noah wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a comforting hug as they headed to their apartment.

“I would do anything for you,” He said, placing a kiss in her hair.

Her shivering body vibrated against his, her hands clinging to his dampened shirt for support.

In the silence of the rain-soaked streets, under the flickering street lamps, she believed him.

Not because she wanted to, but because he had proven it - time and again - through his patience, his understanding. He had seen her fears and her scars and had not flinched away, but stood firmly by her side, always waiting for her to reach out first.

"Noah," she murmured, as they unlocked the door of their shared apartment, her damp hair sticking to his face. "You're different."

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, an acknowledgement of what they both already knew. He smiled into her hair, warmth spreading through him despite the cold rain dripping from their clothes onto the hallway floor.

"I hope so," he murmured back, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before stepping back, giving her space once again as they moved inside.

She smiled at him then, one that reached to her eyes.

It was a rare sight and Noah cherished it because he knew how much courage it took for her.

That exchange marked a turning point in their relationship. His promise uttered in the heart of the storm, wasn't just an empty phrase spoken to comfort her.

It was a vow that he intended to keep, not just for that night but for every night thereafter.

In the following days, she became more comfortable in accepting his aid. She even let him help her carry groceries to their apartment, a task she'd always insisted on doing herself before- all ten bags looped up either arm.

But that day, he was allowed to carry five.

There was still that flicker of unease every now and then, a shadow that crossed her eyes whenever he offered his help; however, those moments were becoming less frequent with time.

Noah proved himself to be a man of his word. He stood by her side, not as a knight trying to save a damsel in distress, but as a constant companion who honored her strength and respected her space.

Their souls danced around each other in the ever-evolving rhythm of their companionship - sometimes colliding, sometimes distancing, yet always spinning in synchrony.

One cool spring afternoon, they went to a local park and found a solitary bench that overlooked a still lake. The water mirrored the sky, capturing its changing moods from cool blue to fiery orange as the sun began to set.

They sat there in a comforting quiet for a long moment, lost in their own thoughts.

Noah opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself just in time. He respected her need for space - physical and emotional both. His gaze fell on her profile - her eyes closed and tilted towards the setting sun, her lips slightly parted as she breathed in the crisp air.

"Is your mind always this quiet?" she asked after a while, turning to meet his gaze. He noted how her eyes held a certain softness now, a less guarded curiosity, “Or this patient?”

"No," he confessed with a soft chuckle. "I’ve had to learn patience over time."

"Because of me?" she asked, her voice low.

He turned to face her, taking a moment to really look at her. The setting sun reflected in her eyes, giving them an ethereal glow.

He admired her- every part of her. The good, the bad. Everything.

"Partly," he admitted, "But also because of myself. I've realised that sometimes the best way to help someone isn't by charging in like a hero. It's by waiting…giving them the space they need to heal."

His words stretched between them as she processed, her gaze never leaving his. Noah noticed a hint of something different in her eyes; not fear or apprehension, but something akin to gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said softly, echoing the words she’d whispered weeks before in the rain.

"I'm trying, Noah," she said quietly, "I'm trying to trust again."

He nodded, understanding all too well what that meant for her. It was a leap of faith - an act of trust that was foreign and strenuous to her very being.

"I know," he replied softly.

His thumb brushed over the back of her hand gently, a small comfort against the enormity of what she had just shared, “And you’re doing an amazing job.”

She smiled, looking down at their entwined fingers.

“I’m proud of you,” Noah breathed.

Her heart raced with armour as they sat there, their hands linked while the sun slowly disappeared beneath the horizon. The world around them was bathed in a tranquil glow, almost as if it was recognizing the sacredness of their moment.

Noah squeezed her hand gently, his chest full of emotions he couldn't quite put into words.

He took a deep breath, his gaze still locked onto the surreal sunset before them. This woman sitting next to him, she was strong. She had been through so much, but instead of hardening her heart, she still allowed herself to be vulnerable, for him. Of all people, him.

Her voice brought him out of his thoughts, "I think I'm ready."

Noah turned to look at her, surprised by her sudden declaration. She looked back at him, determination shining bright in her eyes.

"To rely on someone," she clarified, trailing a finger along the flower on the back of his hand, "To trust again... with you."

There was no hesitation in her voice, just a raw honesty that pierced through the quiet evening.

Noah felt his heart surge with a myriad of emotions: hope, joy, relief; but above all, there was a sense of honor.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently, not wanting to rush her.

He knew the gravity of what she was saying, the importance of this moment.

But she simply nodded, meeting his gaze with an unwavering certainty.

"Yes," she whispered. "I think I am."

Her simple affirmation held so much weight. It was her declaration of surrender, but also a confirmation of faith in him.

And that meant more to Noah than any grand gestures or professions could ever do.

He leaned over, closing the distance between them and pressed his forehead against hers. Their breaths mingled in the cool dusk air, creating an intimate bubble around them while the rest of the world faded into insignificance.

"I'll be here for you, whenever you need.”

tags:

@xxkittenkissesxx @deathblacksmoke @nyxisnotok @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @thefallennightmare

@whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13

@somewhere-diamond @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak

@darkmxgician @sprokat @thatchickwiththecamera @reyadawn @xserenax-13

@philomenie @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @blend-in-with-the-madness @rumoured-whispers

@anything-more-than-human @blacksoul-2 @sweetwombatpizza

[imaginariumwanderer]

Mkay last post before logging off. Featuring silly pixel art I made w/ my mouse.

This chart was actually made out of pure self-indulgent a while back with no intention of being posted, I ended up scribbling(?) all over the thing. Hopefully it's readable when zoomed in.

It's "my ship in 5 minutes" but I can make it 30 if you want. WARNING: Tons of sappy yapping+pixel art download under cut.

About "tropes": The trope is called Angel-Devil shipping, oh but I don't think PV is an angel. He's more like a God for SM (at least that's my preference)… Thinking at all the possible tropes that suits them make me really wonder why some people consider Shadowvanilla a crack/pro ship. Enemies to lovers or villain/hero ships have been pretty archetypal since the day of olds. Compared to all the ships I've encountered in the past… Shadowvanilla is more or less the "slightly out of the norm" on the "problematic ships scale" <- typing this out make me feel like an old fandom veteran haha

About "how it happens": I have no idea where to put PV on that chart. He's the one who approached first, but not out of romantic intents, him falling for SM is as unexpected as can be. SM fell first and slowly, and in 'slow' I meant decades upon decades. It's inevitable, painfully so, spending all those years watching over this cookie who's so perfect in his imperfections, how could one not feel something? Of course it's not so simple, that 'something' is a horrid mixture of disgust, envy, hatred, understanding, both the need to preserve and destroy… And maybeee the tiniest crumb of affection? SM realized something around the first couple hundredth years mark, he then spends the next thousands in denial of it. No matter. Whether it's PV or the Soul jam, his birth-given rights. SM knows what he wants and he WILL get what he wants. (He's wrong on both fronts. And somewhere in the back of his mind, SM knows that. But he'll never admit it. He'll never ever admit anything. Until it's too late. In a way, the same goes for PV)

About a certain someone who's not clingy, but would die for attention: I think PV gets lonely easily. As he's hyper-aware of himself and considerate of others, appearing clingy is the last thing PV wants. So PV would put extra efforts in taking care of those around him, be it cookies, animals or the greenery in his garden. A healer is always busy, always helpful. If he's always needed by others then he would never be afraid of being alone. Ironically enough, this ended up making PV come off as a little overbearing. As of late, the only ones able to see through the facade are Hollyberry cookie and you-know-who.

Other scattered thoughts: These two are completely different yet can't be more similar, on the various sliding scales they're either stuck to one another or are flung to both ends. On another note, honestly I can't see these two doing anything domestic together, the most I can see is cooking, which is basically the same as magic in the cookie world. Anyways, are they in "love"? Are they dating? Not really, no. It's more of a a parasitic-turned-symbiotic-soulbond, a will-they-won't-they-destroy-the-world situationship (iykyk) I do enjoy relationships that's hard to put into words. Their feelings are somehow romantic, somewhat deranged and something much, much deeper.

My desire to ship these two comes from the desire to see them grow beyound their archetypes. Being with PV does give SM the chance to be horrible as can be, yeah, but I'd like to think SM does have a personality outside of being a villainous tormentor. He spends so long observing others, and now for the first time he's being seen. Now SM have met someone who can see right through him, who can glimpse into those dammed vulnerabilities of his. Being with SM does let us see PV in his darkest moments, but it's at the same time the moments where PV can shine the most, to prove SM that his ideals isn't naïveté or simple platitudes. In canon, SM+PV works well as enemies, but it is the many contradictions born when romance is added into the mix that got me shipping. They simultaneously break down and bolster one another's greatest traits. Like binary stars, they orbit around the other, so close yet so far apart, lest they collide. They could've been so perfect for each other. But not in this life, or the next, or the next...

Pixel art time! I have way too much fun w/ Smilk's many faces, his and PV's combined came to around 22 expressions. These are quick to made due to their small size (25x25 px). Zip file includes both the og and 75x75 sizes. I don't mind if any Vanilla milkshakers might use these, just please remember to read the my art terms and conditions first! (which can be found in my About)

Some disclaimer: some images may have different names. This is the first time I'm using Getuploader so sorry if something broke.

Link

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - Brewin' Between the Lines

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: Y/N is still reeling from her run-in with her favorite actress, Jenna Ortega, as she tries to keep things cool in The Daily Grind. Between casual conversation and a shared love for horror novels, the lines between star and stranger begin to blur. As the café empties out and the night winds down, an unexpected moment catches them both off guard—proving that sometimes, the best connections are brewed in the quietest of moments.

Word Count: 1.5k

As I poured the caramel syrup into the iced coffee, my mind raced, replaying the moment Jenna Ortega pulled down her mask. My hands were slightly shaky, trying to maintain focus as I finished off the whipped cream swirl on top. It wasn't every day your favorite actress sat just a few feet away, waiting for you to bring her a drink. The—Jenna Ortega. It wasn't just any celebrity—this was her. I'd admired her ever since her performance on Wednesday. A week ago, I was geeking out to my friends after watching her take on the role of Astrid Deetz in Tim Burton's Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. When she appeared as a cameo in that recent Sabrina Carpenter music video, I was convinced she could do no wrong. I'd followed her career for years, through every role, every transformation. And now here she was, casually sitting in my café, probably just wanting to be treated like anyone else.

But it wasn't just anyone else to me. This was the actress I had looked up to for years, and I was the one making her coffee. I could already feel my face growing warm with the realization, but I pushed the thoughts aside. Stay calm, Y/N. It's just coffee. As I finished the drink, placing it neatly on the counter next to a napkin, I took a deep breath and reached for the tray, trying to look like I wasn't about to freak out. Just as I turned to deliver the order, Wilma emerged from the back, wiping her hands on her apron. She gave me a sideways glance, then noticed the look on my face. She smirked, walking over with a bounce in her step. "So, how's Hoodie holding up?" she asked, leaning against the counter, clearly entertained by whatever she thought was happening. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

I tried to play it off. "It's nothing—just another customer, you know?" Wilma wasn't buying it. Her smirk widened as she crossed her arms. "Uh-huh. Just another customer? The same one who's been looking over their shoulder thrice this week? Oh, please." She leaned closer, her voice lowering like she was about to spill the juicest secret. "You're acting like your celebrity crush just walked in or something." I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and quickly shook my head. "Wilma, seriously, it's nothing. Just another order." But Wilma raised an eyebrow, completely unconvinced. She wasn't going to let this go. "Just another order, huh? You've got that look, Y/N. I know that look. Spill it." She glanced toward the booth, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Wait a minute...don't tell me. Jenna Ortega? Oh my God—it's her, isn't it? I shot her a desperate look, hoping to shut her down before she made a scene. "Wilma—" But she was already grinning ear to ear, loving every second of this. "Holy crap, Jenna—freakin'—Ortega is in our café! And I threw you right into it! This is too good." I sighed, knowing there was no way I could stop her now. "Wilma, keep your voice down! She's just trying to be left alone." Wilma's eyes sparkled, totally unfazed. "Well, aren't you the lucky one? Getting to talk to your celebrity crush? And here I thought you'd hide behind the counter all day." She gave me a playful nudge, clearly enjoying herself. I huffed, trying to control the blush that was now spreading across my face. "I didn't have a choice. You practically pushed me into it." Wilma laughed, crossing her arms, satisfied with how things had turned out. "Well, looks like my plan worked. And now, you've got a story to tell." I glared at her, though I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the assist, I guess." "Anytime," she replied, still grinning. "Now go deliver that coffee before it melts. Don't want to keep Jenna waiting, do you?" I took one final breath to calm my nerves, grabbed the tray with Jenna's iced coffee, and shot Wilma one last look as I headed toward the booth. "You're enjoying this way too much." Wilma winked. "Oh, absolutely."

With the tray in hand, I made my way toward Jenna's booth, taking slow, deliberate steps, trying not to trip over anything that could make this moment even more awkward. My heart was still hammering in my chest, and I swore I could feel Wilma's eyes burning a hole in the back of my head as she watched me. Jenna hadn't noticed me yet. She was sitting in the booth, quietly absorbed in a book. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the edges of the page as she read, the soft glow from her phone resting nearby. For a second, I hesitated, not wanting to interrupt her peaceful moment, but I had to deliver the iced coffee she was waiting for. I cleared my throat quietly, just enough to catch her attention. "Your iced coffee," I said, setting the tray down gently on the table. She blinked, looking up from her book, pulling her hood back slightly as she met my gaze. A small, genuine smile tugged at her lips. "Thanks," she said softly, closing the book but keeping her finger between the pages to hold her place. "No problem," I replied, stepping back and clasping my hands in front of me, trying to act casual. My eyes flickered to the book in her lap; the title was just barely visible. I recognized it immediately— it was a classic horror novel I'd read a few years back. Of course, she's into horror. She caught me looking, and instead of feeling awkward, I smiled. "So...do you come here to escape, or is this just your go-to spot for caramel iced coffee?" Jenna smirked, taking a sip before answering. "A little bit of both. It's hard to find places like this in Hollywood—where people don't care who you are." "We're not big on the whole celebrity worship thing," I replied. "I mean, everyone needs their coffee fix, right?" "Exactly." She smiled again, this time wider, her eyes lighting up. There was something refreshing about the way she relaxed here. It felt like she wasn't just Jenna Ortega, the star of the screen, but a regular person looking for a little peace. I noticed the book still resting in her lap. "is that The Haunting of Hill House?" Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and she was clearly surprised I recognized it. "Yeah, it is," she replied, glancing down at the cover. I've read it before but thought I'd revisit it."

I nodded, a bit of my nervousness fading. "Good choice. Shirley Jackson really knows how to mess with your head, right?" Jenna's smile widened a little as she leaned back in her seat. "Exactly. It's one of my favorites. Creepy, but in a subtle way." I found myself relaxing, the conversation flowing more easily than I expected. "Yeah, the tension in that book...you just feel it building, and you don't even realize you're holding your breath until something happens." She chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Right? I love that feeling when a book gets under your skin." For a brief second, I forgot she was Hollywood's it girl. She was just another person who loved horror novels, just like me. "Well, I'll leave you to it," I said, realizing I'd been lingering too long. "But if you need anything else, just let me know." Jenna picked up her iced coffee and smiled. "Thanks. I will." I turned and headed back to the counter, feeling Wilma's eyes follow suit the whole time.

The second I made it behind the counter, she sidled up next to me with a wide grin. "Sooo? How'd it go, mascot?" she teased, elbowing me. I huffed, rolling my eyes. "I didn't die, if that's what you're asking." Wilma laughed, leaning against the counter. "Oh, come on, spill. Did you chat with her? Did she say anything?" "Yeah, we talked a little," I admitted, feeling the blush creep back onto my face. "She was reading The Haunting of Hill House—you know, classic horror stuff. I tried to keep it cool." Wilma raised an eyebrow. "And?" "And she was super chill about everything. We even geeked out over Shirley Jackson." Wilma's grin widened. "Looks like Jenna approves of your horror knowledge and barista skills. You must be so proud." I groaned, shaking my head. "Please stop." She shrugged, smirk, plastered. "Hey, who knows? Maybe she'll come back just for you." I sighed, rolling my eyes. "If she does, I'll need more than coffee to calm my nerves next time." Wilma chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Nerves? More like butterflies." I shot her a look but couldn't help smirking. "Yeah, and hopefully, I don't spill anything on myself next time." Wilma nodded, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough, superstar. Just remember me when you're living the high life." I glanced back at Jenna's booth one last time. She was already back in her book, occasionally sipping her iced coffee with a relaxed expression. "I guess we'll see in the future."

Three hours until closing, the café had settled into a familiar lull. A handful of customers lingered in their cozy corners, sipping the last of their drinks and enjoying the quiet, low hum of conversation around them. I busied myself behind the counter, wiping it down out of habit, but as I worked, I couldn't help but feel proud. This is exactly the vibe we had hoped for when Wilma and I opened The Daily Grind—a safe haven for anyone who wanted to escape the hustle and bustle of Hollywood, whether they were famous or not. Our little café has become a sanctuary where the pressure of being judged is nonexistent. It was calm, cozy, and welcoming—a little quiet in a city of lights, cameras, and action.

The cafe itself radiated that comforting atmosphere. The evening sun filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm amber glow over the space. The walls were painted in soft, earthy tones—warm beige and deep mocha—creating an atmosphere that wrapped around you like your favorite blanket. String lights twinkled gently overhead, casting a soft, golden light across the mismatched cushioned chairs and rustic wooden tables. Above the tables, lush green plants dangled from the ceiling in macramé holders, their vines cascading down like little waterfalls of greenery, adding a fresh, earthy scent to the room. The plants brought a touch of nature inside, softening the edges of the café's industrial-chic décor. The air was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the faint scent of vanilla candles that burned on the windowsills. The rest of the evening went by quietly, with a comforting rhythm of soft chatter and the occasional clink of mugs. I was leaning over the counter, enjoying the calm, when Wilma came up beside me, holding a pink box. "Hey, mascot," she said, nudging me gently. "It's three hours to closing. Why don't you take this over to Prima?" She lifted the lid to reveal a perfectly frosted strawberry donut with rainbow sprinkles. "Prima?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the nickname. Wilma smirked. "Yeah, Prima. It means 'first' in Spanish—like the top of her game. She's Hollywood's leading lady, right? It fits." I rolled my eyes but took the box from her. "You and your nicknames." "Hey, it's fitting. Now go give her the donut before I eat it myself," Wilma replied with a chuckled.

As I made my way over to Jenna's booth, I could feel the familiar flutter of nerves returning. She was still engrossed in her book, oblivious to the world around her. I cleared my throat softly as I approached, setting the box on the table. "Hey, I thought you might like this," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's on the house." Jenna looked up, blinking in surprise. "A donut?" She smiled, peeking inside the box. "With sprinkles?" "Strawberry frosted with sprinkles," I replied a little too quickly. "One of my favorites." Her smile widened, and she closed her book, giving the donut her full attention. "Thank you. This is...really sweet of you. Literally." I laughed softly, suddenly feeling a bit less nervous. "Well, we figured you could use a treat, seeing as you've been hanging out here for a while." Jenna nodded, taking the donut from the box and tearing off a piece. "This place is a perfect hideaway. I don't think I've ever felt this...relaxed in public." "Well, that's exactly what we aim for," I said, smiling as she took a bite of the donut. Jenna smirked and raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting playfully. "And here I thought you were going to spill the sugar again." I chuckled, feeling the heat creep up my neck. "Hey, I managed to keep it together this time. Progress, right?" She smiled. "I'll give you that. But if you need a backup plan, I think the sprinkled donut would cover for any future spills."

Fifty minutes before closing. I was wiping down the counters when Wilma came up beside me, pulling off her apron and holding her bag. "Hey, mascot," she said, glancing at the clock. "I've gotta head out. Time to pick up the little monsters from soccer practice." I raised an eyebrow. "The twins?" She nodded, rolling her eyes. "Yup, those two can't stay out of trouble. If I don't get there on time, they'll probably have convinced the coach to let them play goalie...at the same time." I chuckled. "Good luck with that. Go, save the day." Wilma gave me a dramatic sigh. "You know me, always the hero. But seriously, are you okay with closing up tonight?" "Yeah, I've got it. It's a quiet night." Wilma smirked. "Alright, just don't let Prima keep you past closing. She's still over there, right?" I glanced over toward Jenna's usual booth and shrugged. "I think so. She's been pretty quiet. Probably lost in her book." Wilma, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "Well, don't let her charm you too much. I'll see you tomorrow, mascot." With that, she gave me a quick wave and hurried out the door, leaving me alone to finish up the last stretch of the evening. The café slowly emptied out, and as I tidied up, I assumed Jenna had left too. After all, I hadn't noticed her in a while. But as I wiped down the tables and put the chairs up, I glanced over at the window and froze.

She was still there

Curled up in her hoodie, her head resting against the window, she looked peaceful, completely engulfed in her book. Her iced coffee was finished, and the remains of the sprinkled donut sat on the napkin, crumbs scattered on it. It was only twenty minutes until closing, and I realized I'd have to get her attention. I changed from my apron and walked over. "Jenna?" I called softly, not wanting to startle her. She didn't respond, enthralled with the pages. After another unsuccessful attempt, I reached out and gently tapped her shoulder. She jumped slightly, eyes widening in surprise as she looked up at me. "Hey," she said softly, clearly shaken out of her book-induced daze. I chuckled, stepping back. "Sorry, I hate to bother you, but it's closing time." Jenna blinked, glancing around the now-empty cafe. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she realized she was the last one there. "Oh, wow, I didn't even notice. Sorry about that." "No problem," I said, giving her a reassuring smile. "Take your time packing up." I tried to make the situation less awkward as she gathered her things. "You know, I've really enjoyed watching you in... well, everything," I admitted, feeling a bit shy. "Especially Wednesday and Beetlejuice 2. But I've been a fan of your work for a long time." Jenna smiled, her expression softening. "Thank you. That means a lot."

She slung her bag over her shoulder and paused, glancing at me curiously. Actually, can I ask you something?" I blinked. "Of course." "What's your honest opinion of my acting? I always like hearing what people outside the industry think. It's...different." Surprised by the question, I hesitated for a moment, but then I nodded. "Honestly? I think you're amazing. Every time you're on screen, it's like... all eyes are on you. You make it look so effortless like you become the character. It's impressive." Jenna's cheeks turned a little pink again, and this time, I knew it wasn't my imagination. "Wow," she said softly. "That's...probably the nicest feedback I've heard in a while. Thank you." We walked out of the café together, and I didn't realize she'd been walking with me to my car until we reached the lot. We stood there, lingering momentarily, both of us realizing simultaneously. Jenna giggled lightly. "Looks like I walked you to your car instead of the other way around. Guess you've got me charmed after all." I laughed, feeling my own cheeks heat up. Before I could respond, two men in casual clothing approached us from the side, startling me. I froze, eyes wide, but Jenna remained calm. "Don't scare her like that," Jenna said, scolding the men. "Apologize." "Sorry, ma'am, one of the men said quickly, looking genuinely sorry. "They're my bodyguards," Jenna explained, turning to me. "They're with me 24/7, but I told them to give me space in the café. Guess they couldn't resist checking in." I let out a breath, feeling relieved. "That makes sense. We've got a security guard next door at the boutiqué, so I get it. I've also seen bodyguards hang out in the café, keeping an eye on things." Jenna nodded, smiling. "I'll have to bring them in next time for a coffee." I grinned. "Yeah, and I'll have to tell you about the crazy stuff I've seen. We've got some funny bodyguard stories." Jenna raised an eyebrow, her smile playful. "I'll hold you to that. Sounds like a promise," "It's a promise," I said, trying to keep my voice steady though my heart was racing. As Jenna opened her car door, she paused.

"By the way, I never got your name." "Oh," I stammered. "It's Y/N. But everyone calls me Y/N/N." "Nice to meet you officially, Y/N," she said with a smile. "I'm Jenna, but you already knew that." I laughed. "Oh, you're Jenna Ortega! No way you looked familiar!" She laughed, waving as she climbed into the car, her bodyguards following suit. I watched them drive off, and once she was out of sight, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I climbed into my own car, pressing my hands to my face and letting out a small squeal into the steering wheel. "I guess Wilma was right again...she's never going to let me live this one down," I muttered dreamily, starting the engine with a grin still plastered on my face.

[alisonwritesimagines]

If Bruce and Batmom Divorced ~Bruce Wayne Imagine~

Summary: The final straw was Bruce officially cheating on you.

Author’s Note: I saw a TikTok about a comic of Catwoman having Bruce’s daughter and I thought of the angst between Batmom and Bruce.

This is not canon to the Batmom Universe

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: Mentions of divorce, angst, cheating

Do not repost this anywhere!

You were a smart person after living with Bruce Wayne who is also Batman. You learned his tricks and gadgets while being his wife. So when you left without word the day after finding out Selina was pregnant with Bruce’s child, everyone grew into a panic.

“It’s like she just disappeared,” Tim said in disbelief.

“Now I know how she felt when I left the mansion,” Dick says.

“Where could she have gone?” Jason asked.

“Alfred, are you sure she didn’t say anything to you before she left?” Cassandra asked him with a sad and desperate look.

“If you think, she would disappear without telling me, you’re wrong. I do know where she is however, she asked me not to say anything. She only gave it to me for emergencies.”

“Then tell us, Alfred! We won’t tell Bruce,” Stephanie begged.

“I’m afraid I cannot do such thing. Not until she calls me and tells me that she is ready.”

Selina had showed up to your doorstep one afternoon and told you the news of her being pregnant with Bruce's child. You spend the first hour in shock before gathering your stuff that you had packed and left without saying goodbye.

It broke everyone when you left. Even Bruce.

Bruce would rather kill Joker and all the villains if it meant keeping you with him. He would murder every single person with bad in them if it meant he could have you with him. But what he did that finally broke you would never change your mind.

Then came the day when you finally showed up. But with a surprise.

"Mom?" Dick asked in shock.

"Hi honey," you smiled softly. Dick engulfed you into a quick hug before looking at you.

"Are you okay? How are you?" Dick asked.

"I'm okay. I'm doing well," you tell him. "Is Bruce home?"

"Yeah. He's home."

"I need to talk to him," you tell him.

"Yeah. Okay."

You followed Dick inside the manor and found Bruce sitting at the dining room table with Alfred and Damien.

"Ummi!" Damien said the moment he saw you.

He rushed over and hugged you tightly before realizing your condition.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's okay sweetie."

"It's good to see you Ms. Y/n," Alfred said, giving you a hug as well.

"I need to talk to Bruce really quickly. Alone," you tell everyone.

Everyone rushed out of the room so you two could be alone.

"Y/n-"

"I don't want to hear you talk Bruce. I am here to have you sign these," you say as you took out the divorce papers from your purse; "And I am here to let the kids know that I am okay."

"Y/n, can we talk about this? Is the baby mine?" Bruce asked referring to your pregnant bump.

"It's yours. But I don't need you for them. I am going to raise this child alone and we do not need you. You are having a child with Selina so if you want to be a father, go be that child's father because you have no right to be in my life anymore," you tell him.

"I put up with so much with you. And I am done. I am exhausted and being away from you for the past four months made me feel so free and relaxed. I have a good home now and it's in a good city and good neighborhood. I just want you to sign these papers, and let me go."

"I don't want to let you go. I don't want to lose you," Bruce said, looking up at you with tears in his eyes.

"Bruce. You lost me when you went to Selina after you told me you wouldn't go back to her," you tell him, tearing up as well.

"At least let me give you alimony so you don't have to work anymore. If I am going to lose you, at least let me do something good for you one last time," Bruce begged.

"Fine. But I don't want contact with you. I'll talk to the kids gladly and they are more than welcome to visit me or live with me but I am done with you Bruce. Until our child asks about you and wants to see you, then I will tell them about you and that they can visit you with the other kids as supervision. But for now, I don't want anything to do with you," you tell him.

"Y/n-"

"You can mail the paperwork to my lawyer," you tell Bruce before walking out. You found Damien and Dick standing by the door after you opened it. You gave them a hug and a kiss on the cheek before walking out. You looked over at Alfred and gave him a small nod.

Alfred walked over to the two boys and handed Dick a piece of paper.

"If you kids want to visit her," Alfred tells them before walking off.

Damien rushed out after you. He wrapped his arms around you, stopping your tracks.

“Don’t leave me Ummi. Please.”

“I’m sorry Damien. Alfred gave my address to you kids so if you want to visit me, you can. But I need to go right now,” you tell your son. Damien nodded before letting you go. You kissed his head once more before getting into your car and driving off.

----

Bruce never interacted with you again after that day. He knew where you lived due to following the kids over to visit you. But he never went down to talk to you. He knew that you were stubborn and that you were holding your ground on not wanting to see him again. He just wished that he could take everything back to have you back in his arms.

The years went on and the kids began to grow up and move out of the house. That was until he got a knock on the door one day.

A girl who looked too much like you stood in front of him as she stared up at him. She couldn’t be older than ten.

"Are you Bruce Wayne?" She asked him.

"Yes I am."

"Hi! I'm Ella. I'm your daughter," she introduced.

"Ella," Bruce sighed in awe. He kneeled down to her height so he can look at her better. "Where's your mother?"

"She doesn't know I'm here. Which reminds me. I need to call her to tell her that I'm okay and that I'm sorry for running away to find you," Ella tells him.

"She will definitely have a heart attack. Come on," Bruce said, holding her hand.

He watched as Ella talked on the phone with you before she looked up at him.

"Mama wants to talk to you," she said, handing the phone over to him.

"Hi, Y/n."

"Is she okay? Is my baby okay?" You asked.

"She's okay. I got her."

"I don't know how on Earth she managed to get to you! I know I said I never wanted to see you again but please bring her back home. We can talk about her seeing you every weekend or something," you tell Bruce.

"Of course."

"I know you know where I live. Just come over with her please. Now," you say.

"I will."

Bruce took Ella back home where you waited for them.

"You young lady are grounded!" You sternly tell your daughter.

"But mom-"

"No buts. Go to your room!" You ordered her. Ella hugged her father before running to her room.

"Y/n-"

"Thank you for bringing her home safely. I can drop her off every weekend if you're not busy for her to see you," you tell Bruce.

"If you think that's best for her."

"She’s been asking to meet you,” you tell him. Bruce stayed silent for a moment.

“How are you?”

“Fine. How are you and Selina? Have you two been raising your child together nicely?” You asked him.

“We aren’t together. She put the child up for adoption,” Bruce explains.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“And I’m sorry for everything. Are you happy?” Bruce asked you.

“I’ve been better.”

“You know, I never stopped thinking about you.”

You stared at him for a moment.

“I’ll drop her off next weekend after she’s grounded. You can have her for the weekend as well as Father’s Day. I’ll have my lawyer draft up a new custody agreement,” you tell Bruce.

“You could always come with her,” Bruce said.

“No. Like I said years ago Bruce. I’m done with you. I can forgive you. But you also proved to me that you will never love me as much as I loved you,” you tell him.

“I’m sorry Y/n. For everything,” Bruce said before walking out of your home.

[luimagines]

hellooooo im new kinda-

but i was wondering if you could do a twi x reader but the reader is insecure about their appearance?

ps: keep up the good work!

Okie dokie artichokie! You got it! :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

"I have nothing to wear."

"Just pick something!"

"Like what? Nothing works!"

Uh-oh. Link didn't like that tone you were using.

He was wondering what was taking so long for you to get ready. He had planned to that you to the festival in Castle Town but this was something that he didn't expect. You were usually faster than this.

"What do you mean?" Link asks gently. He thinks he can guess what's wrong. "Can I see what you have?"

You had mentioned wanting to get something new for the special occasion but he had yet to see what you had chosen. You wanted it to be a surprise.

"...Yes. You can come in."

Oh dear, you really mustn't be feeling well if you're willing to ruin said surprise.

Link sighs and walks in. You're holding up a dress to yourself in the mirror. Two different options lay on your bed, waiting to be tried on. Or rather, have already been tried on and rejected.

"I like this color." You say, defeat coloring your tone. "But I don't like the way my shoulders look in it."

Link tilts his head. He can't see anything wrong with it, but he knows that's not what you need to hear. "What about the other ones?"

"Those were back ups." You pout, tossing the new outfit onto the bed with reckless abandon. "But I don't want to wear those tonight."

Link bite his tongue in thought. He didn't think there was anything wrong with the outfit or with your shoulders. It wasn't even on his mind.

"Try it on for me anyway." He finds himself saying. "At least let me see you in it."

"Ok, fine." You sigh, a little disappointed in yourself. Link can see it and he won't stand for it.

He steps out of the room momentarily so you can change.

You step out as well with the clothes on moments later. Link feels his breath leave his chest. You're beautiful.

But he can see already that your insecurities are beginning to take over. You give him a halfhearted twirl with pathetic flourish. "Ta da."

Link tries to hide his amusement and takes your hand, pulling you towards him. He gives you a proper twirl.

"You're gorgeous."

"...You think so?"

Oh merciful heavens, the tiny hope in your voice is a vice around his heart.

"I have eyes." He teases gently and pulls back to give the impression that he's giving this genuine thought. It's not that he wants to trick you, but there's really nothing wrong here. He has to let you believe that your beautiful no matter what.

He refuses to let you be uncomfortable in your own skin.

"Mmmmhm." He grins and purposely dances with you back into your room. You end up giggling at his antics, hanging onto him as he nearly throws you off of you feet.

"Link, please!" You laugh louder.

"Just like this then. I've figured it out." He says proudly, standing in front of your mirror again. Link had wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. "Is this better?"

You're smiling brightly, trying to see how it's any different in the mirror. But you realize. It doesn't matter. This outfit actually looks quite nice.

"It's because you're hiding my shoulders." You say gently, trying to pull away.

He doesn't let you. "No, it's because we're together." Link stresses, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. "Just stay by my side the whole time, you won't even notice."

You sigh and look back into the mirror.

He has a point. With his arm around you, you don't even see what's been bothering you anymore. You shake your head and smile again, your heart a little lighter than before. "You're to have your arm around the whole time then."

Link snorts. "Believe me, that will not be a problem."

[enanansbbg]

Anhane’s relationship, and it’s complexity:

this was originally uploaded onto twt, but I wanted to reupload it here because I was very proud of this analysis, so please enjoy and feel free to add anything I may have missed or skipped over!

With that being said, here we go! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

Let’s start with the basics. The pure power of their aibouness, and its connections to vivid street.

To begin, you must understand what a partner is in VBS terms. In this case, it’s ‘a person who brings out parts of you never knew existed’.

In relations to Anhane, this is based off pure raw emotions. This is shown through An’s abandonment issues and Kohane’s want to make her heart pound.

Kohane wants to recreate that feeling she felt when she first heard An singing inside of An, to ‘make her heart pound’, while An’s abandonment issues cause her to fear Kohane’s rapid growth may lead to Kohane abandoning her.

This also plays into a certain factor about Kohane and the idea of her and angst, I believe.

Many people want Kohane to have some kind of angst event, especially related to her backstory, but that would go against all her motives.

See, Kohane’s pure movies for pursuing music—for working to surpass Rad Weekend all tie back to An. It was hearing An singing at WG that made her heart pound and An asking her to be her singing partner that caused her to even consider music as an option.

From here, their relationship develops into a lot more, and it’s when the idea of partners ‘bringing out an ugly side of you’ comes to play.

You can see even in the maim story An not seeing Kohane as an equal. It only gets called out and resolved in Singing in Sync.

Singing In Sync, ep. 1 and 3

🎧: “In the unlikely event that something does go wrong, I’ll cover for you and get you back on track, okay?”

…

🎧: “I failed as her partner…I couldn’t protect her…

…

🎧: “I mean, she’s my partner…And I wanted to guide her so that she could sing without worrying…”

…

🥞: “You don’t think of Kohane as one of the team.”

An telling Kohane “I’ll protect you if you mess up” subconsciously puts the idea into Kohane’s head “I’m not good enough, so I’ll probably mess up” This is what caused the entire issue in SIS to begin with.

But it’s once An tells her “you can protect me too” that Kohane is able to subconsciously think “I have the power to make her heart pound too”

Singing in Sync, ep. 8

🎧: “If I miss a cue at the next event…”

🎧: “Could you cover for me?”

🐹: “An… Sure, I can do that!”

After this we get Awakening Beat. Kohane is able to come out of her shell and fully adapts the idea “I can make her heart pound too” and has a large boost in confidence because of it. An both brought her confidence down and back up in the spam of one rotation.

Awakening Beat, ep. 8

🎧: (“It’s like she’s not even the Kohane I know. Could this be because she’s completely resolved herself?”

🎧: (“But even with just that, she can really change this much…?”)

However….In the same event, An’s insecurities begin to bloom and in Bout for Beside You, An has to face them for the first time.

Awakening Beat, ep. 8, BFBY, ep. 4

🎧: (“I was just gonna tell her she did amazing… That I never knew she could sing that amazingly, but…”

🎧: (“What’s going on? I just can’t get the words out—”)

…

🎧: “Kohane is…going to leave me behind?”

Here, An realizes her and Kohane ‘perfect’ relationship is more complicated now. While Kohane’s adapted the idea of “I want to make her heart pound”, An opens to idea of “I wont he able to make her heart pound anymore” (they doki doki more than ddlc i swear)

At the end of the event, An ask Kohane the golden question. “If I were to leave somewhere far away, would we still sing together?”

BFBY, ep. 8

🎧: “But what would you do if I said that I’d be going somewhere far far away someday?”

🎧: “And I wanted to reach greater heights just like what Uncle Taiga did exploring the world. If I were to go to someplace even greater and far far away from here—”

Of course, Kohane affirms this. Naturally, Kohane takes a lot of pride in being An’s partner, being the only partner for her. (as said in ORS) She wants to keep singing with An forever.

BFBY, ep. 8

🐹: “Even so, I would want to keep singing with An-chan!”

🐹: “No matter where you go or what you become, I’d still want to be with you!”

🐹: “I want to properly stand beside you and sing with you!”

We’re gonna skip ahead a bit and jump up to KIUAN, where we get our lovely “She looks like Nagi-san” line, the line that killed every Anhane shipper in the tristate area.

But what makes this line so special? Well, for that let’s discuss what made Nagi’s death (and the lie surrounding it) so impactful.

Nagi was someone An looked up to highly. So, when she was suddenly told that Nagi moved, not even saying goodbye, to pursue her music career, it left a mark on An. Added to the fact that Nagi wasn’t returning An’s messages or calls, just completely disappeared.

Now, looking to Bout for Beside you and KIUAN, you can see the importance of these lines. An fears that Kohane will improve so much that she leaves without a word, never talks go her again and just moves on. It’s why she looks so distressed.

VOT ep. 8, BFBY, ep. 8, KIUAN ep. 7

🎧: “…Aww. I wonder what Nagi-san is doing over in America? I wish she’d give us a call at least.”

🎧: “Ah! Maybe I’ll send her a text then! I wonder if she’ll be surprised~?”

…

🎧: “But what would you do if I said that I’d be going somewhere far far away someday?”

…

🎧: “…She looks just like Nagi-san…”

And, it’s why she can’t even believe Kohane when she says just how important An is to her, how much she loves her and wants to sing with her because Nagi said the same thing and now Nagi is gone.

This manages to reach a resolve in WTWG, where An ‘fights’ Kohane, takes all those raw emotions out in a healthy way, through her song.

An’s card in WTWG is more than just ‘An takes her anger out on Kohane’, because in truth that’s not entirely what she’s doing. Instead, it’s An’s raw emotions taking form.

An wants Kohane to grow, she wants Kohane to thrive fully, but that fear of abandonment—Fear that Kohane will leave and never speak to her again makes her want to hold her close and never let her go anywhere.

So what about Kohane?

Well, starting with thr WTWG card/story, Kohane wants to be An’s best partner. As she states, ‘to make An’s heart pound’.

So, to be vulnerable here is to accept all of An’s raw emotions. Let her lean on her and feel everything because to Kohane, that makes her a worthy partner.

She says over and over throughout the fight that An is amazing, that she wants to be like her, how much it makes her heart pound. Really, it reminds me of Kohane’s colorfes story.

WTWG, ep. 7

🐹: (“An-chan…really is amazing.”)

🐹: (“…Whenever I hear An-chan sing, it really makes my heart pound like nothing else. It makes me wish I could sing like her.”)

In it, Kohane goes to Vivid Street, but everyone thinks she’s An. This happens after she thinks about what it would be like to be An, but only going through this dream does she realize that she doesn’t want to be An, she wants to be her. She wants to be An’s partner.

Colorfes Kohane ep. 1 and 2

Record Store Onee-san: “You caught me off guard, using polite like that, An-chan!”

🐹: (“Did she just say An-chan…?”)

…

🐹: (“—An-chan’s so cool and strong…and there’s times I wish I could be like her…”)

🐹: (“I have to be me! Because—”)

🎧: “—Y’know, I was thinking, your singing is always so amazing, Kohane.”

🎧: “Whenever I hear your singing, it makes my heart race. The tension rises, and it makes me feel like I have to start singing right now!”

🐹: (“Because I’m An-chan’s partner—!”)

And to be An’s partner, is to drag all those raw, vertical emotions out of An, just like she does in WTWG.

In conclusion, Anhane explosion their relationship is so complex and strong and I love it

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#60: The Cure (1.06)

I love a Richonne + cars moment, a Richonne + candles moment, and, most of all, I love a Richonne + hands moment. Rick and Michonne's hands have their own greatest hits throughout Richonne’s love story so it’s only fitting they get one more moment to shine. And Rick and Michonne's final hand moment is beautiful beyond words. It truly paints the picture of how Richonne's love is the cure 🥹...

 After Richonne eliminates the CRM’s higher-ups - giving the upper echelon a taste of their own medicine by doing to them what they were about to do to countless communities - we get some audible insight into the aftermath.

And apparently, sometimes a lil destruction can bring peace and harmony cuz they sure seemed to solve everything wrong with the CRM and Civic Republic after going scorched earth at the summit.

A broadcast explains that after the explosion, Beale and the CRM higher-ups were exposed for all their nefarious operations and activities. That led to the CRC unanimously voting for an emergency oversight of the CRM’s remaining forces and they began implementing immediate reform to the Civic Republic. 

One of the most pertinent developments is that the CRC unanimously voted to change the rule that no one can leave. They now allow those in the Civic Republic to have free movement which means not only can Rick and Michonne finally go home, but the Civic Republic is even providing a helicopter to transport them there. 🙌🏽

gif cred: @nat111love

There's something emotional to me about hearing citizens are finally free to move at will. Cuz that’s all Rick wanted - the freedom and choice to go home to his family. And for years, because of the CRM’s secrecy and paranoia, they kept him from that. But now, after traversing the darkest valleys and still standing, Rick finally gets to go home, and not through escape but freely. 🥹

As the broadcast shares this development we see Rick and Michonne's helicopter in the sky and inside we get my favorite Richonne hands moment. 🤩

The shot focuses first on Michonne’s hand as she holds the pivotal phone that led her to realize Rick survived the bridge explosion. That phone is special. And I love how, in a way, it incorporates all four remaining Grimes because there’s an image of Michonne and Judith and then Rick and RJ’s name on it.

And of course, there’s also the Japanese writing “believe a little longer” which is always a heartfelt sentiment. It's fitting to see the phrase at this moment, as all of Richonne's belief is about to pay off now that they’re closer than ever to being with their kids.

Also, we can see Michonne is wearing her M bracelet and wedding ring in this sweet shot. I always love seeing the jewelry as a reminder that once Michonne found Rick, her husband adorned her with everything he could. 🥹 Husband of the Year every year, factually. 👏🏽

gif cred: @nat111love

Thank goodness Rick sought out Benjiro to draw his girls during his years away. Rick had to hide so much of himself while trapped with the CRM, but he still was compelled to find a way to connect to his wife and daughter.

And Rick's need to still somehow see Michonne and Judith, even if just through illustrations, allowed him to see them again for real since that phone Michonne found was key to letting her know he was alive out there - and most of all, alive out there missing her as much as she missed him. 🥲

As Michonne holds the phone, I imagine she's likely thinking about just how far they’ve come on this journey. First, it was Rick who had that phone as a means of hope during his darkest and loneliest chapter. And then the phone magnetically found its way to Michonne to give her hope too during a very dark and lonely time.

I remember when Michonne first found this phone on that boat it was such an overwhelming moment for her. She was instantly emotional in that TWD 10.13 ep after finding Rick’s boots and a phone that confirmed that Rick survived the bridge and was still loving and thinking about her and their daughter.

And now, after all the hell they’d been through, she doesn’t just have the phone to hold onto of Rick, she has the great man himself right by her side. 🙌🏽

In holding the phone it’s also clear that Michonne is thinking about the kids they're soon about to see. And you know who's also thinking about their kids right now? Rick. 🥹

As the shot pans from Michonne’s phone-holding hand, we see her other hand with the wedding ring which will always elate me to see. And then we see Rick’s hand shaking. 😭

Ok, my eyes tear up every time I see the way Rick's hand shakes on his knee, clearly illustrating his anxiousness about finally going home and reuniting with Judith and meeting RJ for the first time.

gif cred: @taiturner

It has to all feel quite overwhelming. He already loves his son and daughter so much, and I know he wants to live up to being the father they need and the father they clearly look up to as The Brave Man. And it makes sense he’d be feeling a lot of both excited anticipation and anxiety over such a big moment.

Plus, I think about how hard Rick fought to go home all these years and the physical and mental toll it took on his mind and body as every escape attempt resulted in getting caught. Part of why he only has one hand to tremble right now is because his time away from family pushed him to a breaking point where he was willing to chop off his own hand for just the mere chance of getting back to his wife and daughter.

And now, here he is, his wife by his side, and so close to home. That has to understandably make him overcome with emotion because finally, nothing is stopping him from going home. He’s really gonna make it all the way this time. 🥹

So likely with a million thoughts racing through his head right now, his nerves cause his hand to tremble. But then I adore to the moon and back that Rick no longer has to deal with his anxiety alone because his soulmate is with him and is always always so good at comforting him and bringing him peace.

So without a word being said, Michonne immediately holds Rick’s shaking hand, and sure enough, he calms and stops shaking as he holds her hand. Beautiful. 😭😭😭

gif cred: @nerd4music

This calming handhold moment between Rick and Michonne means so much to me. Especially with how a handhold ushered in Richonne’s canon era in TWD 6.10 and was Richonne’s final physical contact in TWD 9.03.

And now Rick and Michonne can still offer so much love and comfort when they take each other's hands all these years later as well. The greatest husband and wife on television, for real. 🥹

The whole movement of it was perfect. Like again, these actors are so talented that even a quick wordless moment of just their hands has such depth and meaning to it. And the music really adds to the emotion of it all too. 

I love that Michonne first gently places her hand on his, clearly sensing everything he’s feeling. And I adore that it’s with her wedding ring-clad hand. Rick's wife. 😭🙌🏽 Like truly the visual of Michonne taking Rick's hand while wearing the ring he gave her is just what a Richonners' dreams are made of. Both this handhold and the ring being in the shot communicate the many ways Richonne are forever committed to have and to hold one another.

And then I adore that Rick is receptive and immediately takes her hand and allows that to steady him. And his signature calming thumb makes another appearance. 😋 It's just all so good. No matter how anxious he gets, connecting with Michonne can always reach him, calm him, and center him.

gif cred: @lousolversons

Rick is definitely a character that often deals with anxiety, and I love that Michonne is so equipped to recognize it and offer comfort in the exact way he needs.

Michonne Grimes is Rick Grimes' cure, truly. After wrestling so long with what really is the poison or the cure, I love that the miniseries makes it so clear that Richonne's love is the cure that can always heal them.

And just the way he takes her hand, it feels like they’re both offering comfort to each other. Both solidifying to each other that they’re in this together always. So Rick doesn’t have to worry. Because Michonne will be right here with him as they reunite and restore their family. 

Also, Rick doesn’t have to fret about being the perfect dad because his eldest son Carl already gave him the blueprint on how to proceed as a father to Judith & RJ - it’s just to love. And Rick's good kind heart knows exactly how to do that. 🥹

gif cred: @michonnegrimes

And y'all, it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t get sentimental about their overall journey for a sec. So I had to take a moment to really reflect and celebrate the way Richonne's hands helped tell this love story all these years. Because it's really something, imo. 😊

It all started in the masterpiece OG Richonne episode 'Clear' (TWD 3.12), when the shot focuses on Michonne handing Rick a lone bullet, simultaneously showing him she's on his side and calming his antsy energy. There were definitely sparks flying between those two in that scene. Even Carl was looking like 'what's this about?' 🤔

And then, because Rick took it as an unbreakable law when Michonne said 'don't you ever touch me again' in TWD 3.07, Rick and Michonne didn't really touch again until season 5. But when they do, it's super meaningful and makes it clear they've become trusted partners who love each other.

Michonne takes Rick's hand just before they enter ASZ, again offering him a refreshing dose of comfort during a very anxious time for him. And she also is comforted in this car, knowing the man she feels most safe with is going to take this leap of faith with her and for her.

Then at the end of season 5, Michonne touches Rick's hand again, this time to let Rick know she trusts him to make the right decision after he offers to give her his gun. They'd been feeling a bit distant since arriving at ASZ and this top-tier season 5 finale scene brought them back together beautifully.

Rick is eager to give up all his secrets in the hopes of being back aligned with her, and Michonne is eager for Rick to see that she's with him no matter what. And the shot of their hands illustrates that perfectly.

That season 5 finale moment also made it clear that Richonne's canon era was just around the corner, especially because they were slowly but surely touching each other more.

And sure enough 😋...

Season 6 arrives and we get some of Richonne's greatest hand moments of all. 🤩 That low-five in the morning leading up to their first kiss - Perfection. ❤️‍🔥 Rick playfully whipping out those mints as Michonne takes them with a smile, and their mint exchange filmed in a way that parallels their bullet exchange in Clear - Perfection. ❤️‍🔥

And then of course the Richonne + hands moment is when Rick and Michonne first hold hands on that couch. It's the sweet, sensual, and oh-so-significant handhold that ignited Richonne becoming an official couple - Perfection. ❤️‍🔥

Once Rick and Michonne hold hands in TWD 6.10 and let all that love that has been stirring inside pour out, they make it very clear they never want to let go of each other. With a sweet, simple, and super special handhold in an RV even being the only confirmation they need to know that what they have is a forever thing.

It's like Andy said of Richonne: "You kind of hold hands, walk to the edge of the cliff and jump — and continue holding hands."

And they really did continue holding hands. 🥹

The wonderful Richonne + hand moments just ramped up even more as the seasons progressed. And all of it, every single time, was perfection. ❤️‍🔥

Apart from a final hallucination and heartbreaking bridge separation, Richonne's last real moment together on their TWD journey even concludes with a shot focused on their hands. And you already know I adore this final TWD handhold, which again paints the beautiful picture of how Richonne can always reach each other, hold each other, and stand united.

And then y'all, The Ones Who Live came along and spoiled us rotten with Richonne gold, including more wonderful and ultra-heartfelt Richonne + hands moments.

Michonne placing Rick's hand over her heart to calm him during his panic attack - Perfection 🥹. Michonne softly touching Rick's handless arm after he quite literally gave his hand for her - Perfection 🥹.

Richonne + hands just always remained a thing of beauty along their unforgettable journey.

Always. 🥰

So, all that to say - Richonne's hands told a very compelling story from TWD Season 3 to TOWL. 👌🏽

These moments (and there are even more Richonne hands moments that I could have included if there wasn't a 30 gif max) are a big reason why I adore that Richonne is given this shot focused on their hands in the final episode of The Ones Who Live. How far they’ve come, and they’ve only grown closer and closer and more and more in love. A love story for the ages. 🥹

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

Now, did I basically just dedicate a whole post to Richonne’s hands? Yes I did. 😇 I had to. Their hands moments were just that good and deserved appreciation.

I will forever cherish the opportunity to watch these two characters fall in love in a fallen world and, even with weary hands from this wild world, pick up each other's broken pieces to make each other whole. And each meaningful hand moment portrayed Richonne's ability to do so.

But ok, now, it’s time to talk about the utterly heartwarming and heart-melting moments of Rick and Michonne finally reuniting with their babies. And we're breaking it down in 2 parts because you know I gotta finish as extra as I started. 😌👌🏽

[lw77]

Diet Pepsi 💈 (LSxMV)

Chapter 1. - Angel

Max wants more than just a sub.

Who knew helping his dad at the shop would become his own personal brand of torture. He knew his dad had regulars, but he thought they’d be – old men regulars not whatever these chippendale escapees were. 

Apparently they’re contractors, who look like every middle-aged woman’s fantasy. Including Logan’s. 

And like clock-work, the group of men enter, a few heading to the drinks and some to his mom’s home-made subs. He hears Danny’s loud laugh, followed by Charles snickering as they tease their other colleague, George, Logan’s mind helpfully supplies, as he shows them something on his phone.

Logan wonders where the other one is, Max, all ruddy cheeks, bright blue eyes and big arms, who’s sadly amiss as he looks towards the floor. 

It’s embarrassing really, how at twenty-one Logan is like a school boy with a crush. If he ever confessed all the things he’s thought, fantasised about or, God, he inwardly groans, dreamt since seeing that man, it would have his Priest drowning him in holy water. 

A tap at the counter knocks Logan out of his thoughts, as he sees Danny in front of him ready to cash out. Like he knew what was going through Logan’s head, Danny’s smile stretched wider, “What’s wrong Logie boy, you disappointed it's just us today?” 

Logan squeaks as he’s caught out, face aflame, “No idea what you’re talking about, um– will that be all?” gesturing to the stack of subs and drinks Danny’s placed on the counter. 

“I think you doooo Logie boy.” Danny croons winking, as Logan speeds up his scanning before Danny can say anything else. It doesn’t stop the man from resting his forearms on the counter and wiggling his eyebrows.

“You’re awful, I’m telling my mom not to make any more of her salami subs.” Logan whines, trying to threaten Danny’s favourite sub away in hopes of ending his teasing. 

Danny smiles cheekily in response, “Your mother loves me, she would never do that” as he taps his credit card on the reader. 

Putting the items in plastic bags, “Maybe I’ll just throw them all away then.” Logan says petulantly. Taking the bags from Logan, “Oh come on Logie boy, that would just be wasteful. Now don’t you worry, he’ll be back next week!” Danny shouts with one last wink as he heads out. 

It’s loud enough that Charles and George, who were still hanging by the front, look up and laugh as if they know exactly who Danny is referring to. It makes Logan let out an embarrassed “Danny” as he hears the group’s laughter continue out the store. 

_______________________

Logan is snug in their usual booth, waiting for Alex and Oscar to return with their first round. They’re celebrating Alex’s new job tonight.

“Alright, two pitchers of beer for us and a Sommersby cooler for the princess!” Oscar announces loudly as he sets down their drinks. Logan snatches the cooler and pulls it closer.

“Oh, come on, Logie bear. You know we’re just teasing you,” Alex says, only making Logan scowl more.

“Seriously, what’s gotten into you this week? Did your mom accidentally sew up your fuck-me jeans again or something?” Oscar asks, furrowing his brows in genuine curiousity.

Logan groans and sinks further into his seat. “No, worse.”

“Did she try to set you up with one of her awkward co-op students again?” Alex asks.

Sitting up, Logan protests, “Okay, that was one time! Checo was sweet—he just had really sweaty hands.” Realizing how pitiful that sounds once he says it, he rests his head against the booth's cushion.

Alex and Oscar sit in silence, giving him space to finally share what’s bothering him.

“You know those hot regulars my dad has? The Chippendale escapee contractors? Danny Ricc—you know him, Alex.” Leaning in, Logan hisses, “Well, they definitely know I’m into their friend or colleague, whatever he is.”

“Yeah well, Logan, you’re not exactly subtle. It’s pretty obvious you’ve got a crush on that guy,” Oscar replies, in an all too annoyingly factual tone, Logan decides.

“And your pupils get huge dude when you like someone. There’s no hiding your attraction buddy,” Alex adds, raising his hands in surrender.

“Oh my god, how am I going to face him now that I know his friends know? Meaning, he knows too. So mortifying,” Logan says, fully aware he’s whining when they’re supposed to be celebrating Alex. “Sorry, I’ll snap out of it… or I’ll move out of town.” He says the last part a little too seriously for his friends.

“Anyway, that’s my week. Now—Alex, come on, tell us about the job! The floor is yours.” Logan gestures with a flourish.

Alex and Oscar share a look. “I got hired to consult as an architect.”

Logan perks up and excitedly congratulates Alex, asking where. “At Danny Ric’s company—your favorite!”

“Oh my god, you’re going to be a part of the Chippendale escapees?” Logan squeals, both hands slammed on the table as he leans over in excitement.

Oscar, observing the scene then asks, “Time for a cheers then?”

“To Alex joining the Chippendale escapees!” they cheer, clinking their beers and can together.

“Oh my god, you’re going to work with Max. Alex, you love me, right? You’ll tell me if he ever talks about me, or if he says I’m cute?” Logan continues, getting even more embarrassing. Oblivious to the widening eyes of Alex and Oscar as they glance behind him.

“…Oh my god, he came in muscle tee a few weeks ago and I just wanted to bite his biceps because they looked so big and they are so big—”

“Ow! What the hell, Oscar? We use our words now.” Logan admonishes, bending in his seat to rub where he got kicked. But he freezes as he hears a familiar laugh. Looking up, he sees Danny standing by their table, amused, and oh god, Max, arms crossed and wearing an equally amused expression.

Now looking no better than his best friends, Logan’s eyes are wide, his face is scarlet, and his mouth hangs open in shock as he realizes they must have heard everything—or at least enough. Maybe he can learn to love Checo’s moist, moist, hands because Mexico is definitely far enough.

“Hey, boys, didn’t mean to interrupt your evening. Just came over to congratulate our dear little Alex on joining the company! Our youngest yet!” Danny sings, wiping a tear for dramatic effect.

Meanwhile, Logan, snapping out of his deer-in-headlights look, is now studiously examining the table varnish, hoping the two men forget his earlier soliloquy over the other's (big) arms.

Good-naturedly, Alex invites Danny and Max to join them in the booth, leaving Logan pressed arm to leg against Max, his best friend completely uncaring of Logan’s gay panic.

Logan starts drinking from his can, hoping to avoid any conversation. But before long, Danny, Alex, and Oscar finish the two pitchers and decide they need to get the next round. Logan’s eyes widen as he mentally pleads, *Don’t leave me alone.* But both Oscar and Alex blissfully ignore him.

Staring at his drink as if it's the most interesting thing, Logan catches a glimpse of Max turning his way.

“Heard you missed me at the store.”

Logan looks at him, feeling his cheeks flush. As Alex pointed out earlier, his attraction to Max is probably written all over his face.

“I—um, no, just wondering where you all were,” he stutters, wetting his lips. “Not just you.” He leans back against the wall as Max essentially cages him in the booth, one arm resting on the back and the other bent on the table. Max’s body warmth and sandalwood cologne envelop Logan, blanketing his senses. Max’s gaze drops to Logan’s lips, a small smirk playing on his face, "Really?" he prompts, "Ye-yeah" Logan breathes out, Max's eyes flick up to Logan's at his answer and his lips break into a smile as he replies simply “Okay, if you say so.”  And, all too soon, he leans back, creating some space as the sounds of the bar filter in again, grounding Logan, feeling like he must be in heaven with Max so close.

Clearing his throat as Danny and the others join the table, Logan sits up, gratefully accepting a new can from Oscar, who gives him a knowing look while subtly elbowing Alex. Now both friends are watching him with knowing smiles, taking in his flushed cheeks and wide eyes.

Logan glares back but falters when he feels a big hand settle just above his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. He realises he’s being asked a question. “Oh—I'm sorry, what?” he asks, confused, snapping his gaze to Max. 

It’s Danny, looking past Max with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He repeats his earlier question, fully aware of why Logan is distracted. “I asked if you’re excited to see your best friend every day now. Since your mom’s subs are legendary. And essential to a good work day”

Logan’s disbelief drips from his tone as he asks, “Even if all we have is the veggie one, Danny?” He raises his eyebrows for added effect.

Danny crosses his hand over his heart dramatically. “Even the veggie one, Logie boy! Although some of us come for the service too.” He finishes with a sidelong glance at Max.

Max, whose relaxed against the booth with his body still angled toward Logan and a comfortable hand resting on Logan’s thigh from when he squeezed it earlier to get his attention. At Danny’s insinuation, Max looks down at Logan, a small smile tugging at his lips as he gives Logan’s thigh another gentle squeeze, this time higher up, and shrugs.

The warmth from Max's touch sends a flutter through Logan's stomach, mingling with a simmering feeling in his chest that he can’t quite identify.

Thankfully, Logan is saved from responding as Oscar pulls Danny’s attention away, asking what project they’ll be starting on.

In the most teasing tone he can muster despite his fluster, he whispers, “So, service?” Looking up at Max from beneath his eyelashes.

Max leans in closer, his voice low. “You’re not the only one who's been looking, Angel.”

Logan’s face heats up further. The nickname doesn’t help his battle against arousal or the realisation that he was not subtle at all.

He blinks as he responds with a soft “uh-huh,” nodding his head, his mind feeling like cotton from their proximity and Max’s admission of mutual attraction.

Max’s gaze drifts to Logan’s lips just as Logan nervously bites his bottom lip. He’s on the verge of saying something—or maybe hoping for something more—when a cough interrupts them, making both of them look up at a smirking Danny.

“While the image of you two is a relief, we have to head back. Poker night! We just had to stop to congratulate you, Alex, on joining us.”

Logan, embarrassed by Danny’s comment, groans into his hands, while Alex thanks Danny brightly. Glancing at Danny, as he waits for Max, he leans into Logan’s ear, whispering, “See you tomorrow, Angel,” and with one last squeeze to Logan's thigh he’s out of the booth and heading for the door behind Danny. Leaving Logan bright red, his arousal flashing like a stop sign, and his two best friends laughing at his expression.  

Unhelpfully, Alex says, “Guess this means you don’t have to skip town anymore.” To which Oscar shouts, “Hear! Hear!” Logan can’t help but giggle, his embarrassment fading as he nods in agreement.

Chapter 2 of Diet Pepsi- Here

Author's note: So I listened to Diet Pepsi by Addison Rae and I just kept seeing buff/fit Max (white t-shirt, gold cross in blue jeans) and Logan vm baby boy/angel and big blown out eyes and parted lips when Max comes into his dad's store with his co-workers/friends. (i was going for a lil age diff but mostly size difference)

also i was gonna make it hotter but its like jesus had a hand on my shoulder as i got to it. maybe next chapter