He Is Everything To Me - Tumblr Posts

I’ve said before I must be a magpie for fire type characters cause another has made the list

Gideon Coal

Me when Torbek

Edge of Midnight Spoilers??

YALL

Marius is so Icarus coded. I have decided. He yearns for the sun (Lathander) and is trying to do anything in his power to reach for it (serve his god. BUT he is constantly getting burned (the duchess/lathander seemingly not listening to his paladin).

Marius is already a very sun coded character but I listened to Icarus by Bastille AND THE LYRICS FIT HIS CHARACTER SO WELL

I love him that is all

OUaW Ep 44-47?? Major Spoilers

I am unsure of the exact episodes but if you haven't watched the last 10 Once Upon a Witchlight episodes, then don't read this post. it contains major spoilers.

I still cannot get over the fact that Kremy felt/feels immense guilt over the fact that he let his friends die to the Jabberwok. Just the way Richie explained how he (Kremy) felt bad about selling his friend's souls including his own just for power and what awaited them all after death. heartbreaking.

Kremy had to stand in front of the Jabberwok, which was standing over his husband's dead body, and he knew that it was the end. The guilt he felt in his last moments of life knowing what awaited him in death because he didn't fulfill his deal.

Then the mast amounts of relief he must have felt when he realized that he was alive. His loved ones were alive. They didn't have to face their terrible fate in the afterlife. Kremy could finish his side of the deal with the Baron and then he could live happily with the people he cared for.

AGBWGOSIWSGOWSILHGNAUKHBGWOIGAOIGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

HIS LITTLE FAAAAAAAAAACE 😭😭😭

H I M ♥️♥️♥️

the way Hope is FEELING himself these days i CANT

from his insta

how many times do i have to say how cute he is

bonus:

if i cannot be wanted

i will be needed

and if i cannot be needed

let me be used until there’s nothing left of me

I've missed Jimin so much, and I still miss him. 🥹🫂💕

Godfrey in pro

*sobs even more* I'm not crying u are...! *sniff* Thank you Kaufy!!! And I won't go boasting! You can count on me Ma'am-sir! -A very happy ADHD anon.

*Cries* KAUFMO!! PLS. You know what? Fine. Can I alteast have hispanic sweet bread and milk at least? -ADHD anon.

"Of course.. uhh.. let me see if I can find some.."

Kaufmo goes to find some sweet Hispanic bread and milk..

"Do you like soy milk-? Almond milk-? We got uhh chocolate milk too."

“I’ve just had a thought.”

Kei looks up from his phone, eyes drooping, the hour you’ve spent lounging on the couch rendering him immune to the fact that his neck is bent at a disastrous angle against the armrest. It has you pulling him forward, taking the pillow from under your neck to stuff under his, but it’s a fine trade. Now you can lay against the warmth of his chest and settle into what Kei calls the pre-nap—or, what he used to call it, back when he was still too embarrassed to simply say that he wanted cuddles.

“Woah, careful there," he can't pass up the opportunity to start with. Then, "Good kind or bad kind?”

You hum. “Sickeningly domestic kind.”

“So… good,” he decides after a beat, setting his phone down on the coffee table.

Those long, gentle fingers you love slide into your hair, and it’s a wonder how they always sate an itch that only manifests itself mere seconds before the touch, just so they can be rubbed away by him and him alone; suspiciously wizard-like. “It’s not like I’m opposed to any of that. Since it’s you.”

Aww.

“Honeycakes—” you coo obnoxiously, disguising his name in the endearment, which gets you exactly what you'd expect—the full moon's circumference of his palm eclipsing your vision, his grip light as he smushes your face around for a while, unable to rid himself of the urge. When he lets go a minute later, you share a look of mirrored contentment, all stupid smiles and rolling eyes, before you settle your ear over his heart and he resumes massaging your scalp.

Whatever video he was watching drones on in the meantime. Something about a supermoon coming up and dropping temperatures… Partly rainy with a high of seventy-three degrees and a low of sixty-eight degrees and—wow, he really got sucked into watching the weather channel... But it’s quiet enough to tune out against the steady drum in his ribs, so you both leave it be.

“Your idea, baby.”

“Oh, right. So I was thinking—y’know, when we start buying stuff for the house…”

“Mmhm?”

“For utensils, what if we found the same forks you grew up using, and the same spoons I had, so that our future kid'll have pieces of both of our childhoods already built into theirs? Our own little mismatched set.” "You're right..." It's quiet for a moment. Then Kei blows out a breath, his mind positively sunnier with the image. “That is sickeningly domestic.”

You open your mouth to defend the idea—because it is a good idea, notes-app worthy, even—when he tacks on, “I’m not saying no. God, you’re just so cute sometimes...” the words followed up by him pulling on your cheek. “Is that why you kept hovering by the drawer when we visited my mom? ‘What if’ my ass. You already found them on google, didn't you?”

Your laugh gives you away. He’s right—they’re in your amazon shopping cart as you speak, just waiting on his two cents.

“What about chopsticks, then? And knives. And spatulas.”

Spatulas?

Kei only shrugs in response.

“The rest can be new. I don’t want all of it to be us holding onto old things,” you pause. “But my star curtains are non-negotiable.”

“They have holes.”

“Those are the cutouts! And you even said they were pretty when the light’s seeping through them.”

“Okay, yes, they are pretty," he relents, setting his glasses down by his phone. Silencing the weather report with a slide of his thumb. “But furnishings aside, we’d still be missing one thing…”

“Tsukishima Kei, I know exactly what you’re gonna say…” You find yourself being rolled onto your back, his pupils pushing the golden-brown of his irises to the outer rims as they dilate. “And the answer is no.”

“What?” Kei smirks, almost sing-songy as he trails kisses down your collar. He’s not actually gunning for that part of your life together yet. Key word—yet. You’d both agreed to preserve the first year of your marriage for just the two of you. Figuring out the ins and outs of buying a house together and all the legalities that came with it had been hard enough on its own.

Everything after your one-year anniversary, though, is completely fair game.

“You’re the one who brought up a little Tsukishima…”

HAN ✧ "Give Me Your TMI" MAKING FILM → for @hyunebear

MINGYU The Fact Music Awards Practice

Omg, my baby is so cute!

& ever

pairing: husband! kim mingyu x afab! wife! reader

healing comes in small doses masterlist

synopsis: you and your husband dug up your cringiest teenage photos.

w.c: 2.5k

tags npr, non idol!au, domestic fluff, established relationship, married life, cringing together, gendered terms, terms of endearment (baby, honey), featuring suju's siwon, light teasing

warnings: suggestive joke (they're married c'mon)

a/n: this was sitting in my WIPs for some time. I was so inspired by some hd photo's of mingyu and the thought of how wonderful it would be to grow old. I know it sounds weird, but i've come to a point where i find its not as scary as most people put it.

No Age Indicator/Blank blogs/Serial Likers will be blocked!

As always, I thrive on reblogs and comments! <3

Sometimes you wish you remembered your first Instagram account's password, or the password to the email to it for that matter. Your username was stupid, the email was a wordplay on your emo phase, and you know the password was the birthday of an old crush you can't remember for the life of you. The worst part was you were a shit poster, hopped on to whatever fashion trend there was, and your account was public.

Fortunately, your username was nothing close to your name and you only had few followers from your middle school to high school. No one had ever brought it up, which meant it was long forgotten.

Unfortunately, your husband found it.

gyu 💗: hey xX_luvrgirl420Xx

y/n💖: ???

gyu 💗: (attached image)

You nearly choke on your lunch when he sends you a screenshot of a grainy old photo with 3 different filters. It was of a sixteen year old you holding a guitar (which you didn't play) and looking away from the camera.

gyu 💗: '1 thing, 2 say, 3 words, 4 u, "i love you" ' wow whos got u that down bad and what does that have to do with u and the guitar? kkkkkk

You groan as he sends an influx of photos from your once forgotten Instagram account, taking this rare moment to bully you the way you had been bullying him for years. You cringe and shiver at some of your emo edge lord captions, questionable matching of outfits, and your baby face that you've managed to age for five years with how you did your eyebrows.

y/n💖: i was not the one with 'alpha' in his bio

gyu 💗: shhhhhhh

y/n💖: u were, as the youth call nowadays, 'sigma' at best

gyu 💗: just say u hated me in highschool :(((

no, u actually hate me

y/n💖: gyu, i never hated u and u know that. i mean i dont hang out with losers who pick their nose in public but here we are <3

gyu 💗: bully :<

(attached image)

You smile with half a scoff at his pouting selfie and you send one back with a kissy face as an apology. You allow his teasing as he sends you even more cringe photos and posts of your younger yourself. You wonder what you'd be like if you had that same confidence as you did back then because quite frankly, it was embarrassing.

y/n💖: whered u get that anw? pretty sure i became inactive by second year.

gyu 💗: soonyoung found it. he looked through his tagged photos

You both carry on your day in your separate work places. But in between breaks, you decide to have your own petty payback and rummage through your husband's old photos and digging way back to your high school years in hopes to get some rare photos you hope he has not deleted.

Later that evening, you're giggling as you swipe through your phone and lounging on your couch while waiting for your man to come back from the gym. It's a routine he's thorough on committing to four times a week after work.

After some thorough digging and exchanges from your sister-in-law, you collected a substantial amount of cringeworthy photos from his middle school to high school days. They were precious but you know just how your husband would feel about them. And ever since you got together, you start to see the appeal of his friends teasing him.

It's a little after 7PM when you hear your door click open and the tell tale shuffling of your husband.

"Welcome home, babe!" you call out, too lazy to get up from your position on the couch.

Mingyu peers through the doorway to your living room, his eyes seem exhausted from the day but he grins when he sees you anyway. He abandons his gym bag and cap by the couch as he approaches you.

You shamelessly ogle at the flex of his shoulders and chest through his muscle tee, appreciating his hard work. Your husband was already fit to begin with, but seeing his pecs and biceps get bigger over the years definitely did a number on you.

"Look at my girl, all cozy," he smiles, running a hand through his damp hair.

"I tried to get up to meet you at the door but the blanket's too heavy," you sigh. He only shakes his head and you notice how his fingers twitch at his side, a sign you know very well that tells you he wants to touch you.

You smile back at him snuggling deeper into the fluffy blanket before puckering out your lips for a kiss.

Mingyu raises a brow, "I thought you hated when I touch you while I'm all sweaty, baby."

"Just one kiss and you can go shower."

He shakes his head in amusement and doesn't argue, bracing an arm over the couch to bend down and meet your lips in a sweet kiss. You sigh and smile against his lips, happy to just have him home. Then you feel the heat from his body as he slowly pulls back, his eyes glittering with affection before smothering your cheeks in wet kisses.

You erupt into a fit of giggles as you squirm away from him. You feel his teeth graze your temple as he chuckles with you.

"Noooo, I just did my skincare," you whine, his nose bumping into yours while you push against him. "Stink, go shower!"

"Bully," Mingyu lands one big fat kiss on your lips and winks at you before sauntering over to your bedroom.

You're still on the couch when your husband returns from his shower, his hair fluffed up and skin dewy. Smiling softly, you open your arms in welcome and just as you scoot over, Mingyu unceremoniously plops on top of you. You grunt at the weight of him and wheezing as he tries to adjust his limbs.

"You're heavy," you groan, spreading your legs so he could get comfortable in between.

"And you're whiny today," he quips, settling his head against your chest and propping your legs to cradle his hips so he wouldn't crush you.

Winding his arms across your waist, Mingyu lets out a quiet breath of contentment as he settles his cheek against your sternum. Mingyu may be larger than you but the weight of him is comfortable as he rests most of his weight on his side. You squeeze him affectionately and kiss the top of his head, amused that the act of cuddling you and kissing your head is something he'd usually do for you. But you figure he's exhausted today. You'd never tell him out loud that it makes your soul happy to take care of him this way.

Running a gentle hand through his hair, you tell him, "I ordered delivery."

He hums, deciding against reminding you about the food delivery ban because you're both too comfortable to get up. You talk in soft murmurs about your day, about the news earlier today about a new rail line opening, how many weeks till the holidays, and about the pottery class he’s interested in going with you. 

It's a typical routine for your weeknights and you’ll never be tired of it any time soon. 

Suddenly, you remember your little collection of a younger and cringier Mingyu. With a mischievous grin you pat his arm, “Up.”

He grumbles drowsily, “No.”

“C’mon I wanna show you something,” you lightly push his shoulders.

“But I’m comfy.”

“Just turn over then.”

“No, I like your tits,” he whines before shamelessly rubbing his cheek against one. You roll your eyes and smack his shoulder hard to which he whimpers in surprise before playfully poking your side. Squealing, you let out a giggle before apologetically rubbing over the area you had slapped. 

Realizing your husband really doesn’t want to get up anytime soon, you sigh and coax him to let up so you could get comfortable. He makes a sound of protest which miffs you because he’s being extra clingy tonight. With a petulant sigh he lifts himself up ever so slightly so you could scoot a little higher into the armrest. You tug him back into your chest to which you see his feet discreetly do a happy wiggle. 

Smiling, you shake your head before you open your phone with one hand to show him your glorious finds. 

Mingyu twists his head to look and he immediately lets out a loud groan of embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

Laughing, you attempt to bring the phone closer to his face to see his middle school self with his new haircut, posing awkwardly with his long limbed stretched out to rest against the wall.

“Your mom told me that this was when you were really feeling your haircut and they took photos of you to put up in a modeling ad,” you giggled, swiping through the lanky boy you remember he was. Your husband is stubbornly keeping his face pressed into your neck but you can feel the heat from his cheeks searing into your skin. “Oh I definitely remember meeting you like this.”

Curious, Mingyu peers at the photo with a pout. It’s a mirror selfie of himself at sixteen, bangs meticulously brushed to one side, a black stud pierced on his left ear, and he sported an ill fitting leather jacket. 

“Your bad boy moment,” you tease, absentmindedly tugging at his earlobe to feel for where the piercing once was.

“Cheol-hyung did it too, and I thought it looked so cool,” he explains, frowning when you begin zooming into the details.

“Yeah, you thought.”

He huffs, mumbling something about you hating him in highschool. You chuckle, thoroughly vindicated from the earlier photos he’s sent of you. As you swipe through the photos, you occasionally pause when your husband passionately defends his teenage choices while you recall a certain memory in the familiar ones. 

“Ah, I remember this one, you got detention for this one,” you say, zooming into his poorly dyed chestnut locks, “I still don’t understand why you did this when it's clearly against dress code.”

Your husband sighs, his arms squeezing your sides as he mumbles, “I thought I could get away with it. Thought it would look somewhat natural but who knew there were three shades of brown dye.”

You tilt your head down at him, “Why did you want to dye it anyway?”

“Don’t laugh, okay?” He looks up to look at you pointedly with a stern voice familiar to you when he’s flustered but wants to be taken seriously. You nod, already stifling your laughter even if he hasn’t said anything yet. Narrowing his eyes, he sighs, cheekbones dusted pink.

“You once mentioned to your friends how much you liked Super Junior’s Siwon’s brown hair back then.”

You blink at him with the newfound information, and find it amazing that no matter how long you’ve known him, there were still some things you hadn’t known about. Whatever laughter was bubbling up your thought, fizzles into a soft, “Aww, baby.”

Kissing his nose in adoration you shoot him a giddy grin, “You were so down bad for me.”

He scoffs with a roll of his eyes and rests his cheek back on your collarbone, “Still am.”

With a pleased smile, you carry on swiping through photos. From a range of his childhood photos filled with his adorable pouts to an era in his teenage years where he was feeling himself the most. It's an experience you share with soft coos and teasing laughter while memories are shared. You hadn’t expected your little payback to turn out this way as you fell into a comfortable lull of sharing stories from back then.

“Gyu, baby, can we switch? I can’t feel my legs,” you wiggle your toes only to feel pins and needles prickle back in response. 

His lips are jut out in protest but he flips you around anyway so you're resting on his chest this time. You sigh in relief, stretching your legs along the length of his as you prop your chin on his chest. 

Scrolling through the last photos, you find yourself smiling with how much you remember of most of them. Mingyu was adorable, tall, lanky, and clumsy. His cheeks were pinchable and he spoke way too fast in pout that at times it was impossible to understand him. Closing your phone, you prop your elbow beside your husband’s head, grinning at him cheekily with how he’s visibly pink in the face and flustered. 

He’s grown out of his teenage features. His hair is much healthier, his frame has (deliciously) filled out, and his jaw is more defined. You gently cup his cheek, rubbing your thumbs across the surface. You feel the faint stubble scratching your palm, the roughened texture of his faded pimple, and you can see where his smile lines lie. It softens your heart, knowing that he’s smiled a lot. He has a beautiful smile, that’s something he hasn’t grown out of. 

Carefully you trace your fingertips across his freckles, the folds at the edge of his eyes, the thin skin of his under eyes, and that scar above his brow from childhood. Mingyu just lets you, sighing softly at your touch while he squeezes your waist in appreciation. Your fingers brush against the tiny dips and faint wrinkles on his forehead and you smile softly at a realization you had. You’re both in your late twenties now and the evidence of age that people are afraid of, does not scare you as it once did.

Leaning in, you press butterfly kisses all over his face–from his moles, the corner of his mouth, underneath his eyes, his scar, his forehead. The flame kept warm in your heart for Mingyu sputters and bursts in your chest as you kiss anywhere you could reach.

With a blissful sigh, your husband speaks up, “What's on your mind, babe?”

“Mm,” you rest your forehead on his, “You know how some couples say they wish they met each other earlier?”

Mingyu nods, rubbing a big palm up and down your side.

“Well,” you whisper, gazing adoringly at all the places you’ve touched.”I’m just blessed I got to know you back then. Even if we didn’t date before, I’m just glad I got to know you.”

Mingyu’s lips stretch into a lovestruck grin as he leans up to kiss your lips, feeling the sentiment of being able to share all these silly stories of your teenage years together. A large hand tenderly cups your cheek, the calloused pads of his fingers brush along the edges of your face. His eyes glaze at your own beauty marks, and fine lines with an overwhelming flood of adoration when he thinks about how privileged you both were to see each other grow old.

“I’m glad I got to know you too, honey,” he tells you, voice thick with devotion, “And you know what the best part is?”

You hum, mirroring his enamored gaze. He brings his other hand to slide down your arm and gently intertwines your fingers together. Lifting your hand up to his lips, he presses a kiss on the finger with your wedding ring. You beam at the sight of your rings, snugly tuck on your tangled fingers. Even after a year of marriage, it never fails to cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach. 

“I get to know and love you—forever, and ever, and ever, and ever.”

taglist: @welcometomyoasis @automaticpersonabatpaper @armycarat2612 @toplinehyunjin @roseandpeaches @jespecially

@soffiyuhh @8queenc8 @waldau @suhoandvero

@blackberry3200

Venom (2011) #22

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