#and that just shows that there's a bond there

[alotofpockets]

The Tooney and Russo Show | Alessia Russo x Williamson!Reader, Leah Williamson x Sister!Reader & Ella Toone x Platonic!Reader

Where you take over hosting The Tooney & Russo show when Vick is sick.

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.2k

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“Tooney, you’ve made it!” Alessia stood up and hugged her best friend. You were meeting Ella for breakfast before heading to the studio to film their last podcast episode for the season. “How was the trip?” You asked after you gave her a hug as well.

Ella sat down with a sigh, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the tube is not my friend.” You shared a knowing look with your girlfriend before you both chuckled, Ella and tubes didn’t go together, and she would complain about them every single time. Alessia and Vick had offered to get a studio in Manchester and make the trip over, but Ella insisted that it was more practical if only one person would have to travel. Yet, she often brought her boyfriend with her, so the one person only rule rarely applied. Either way, it was always great when Ella was in town.

“Is Leah not here yet?” You shake your head, “You know my sister, always a busy schedule.” The two Lionesses nodded in agreement, “She said she’d join us when her meeting was done though.”

Just when your food was delivered to the table, Leah made her way through the door. “Sorry I’m late.” You all greet her with a hug and wave off her apologies. The four of you were having a great time chatting over breakfast, when both Alessia’s and Ella’s phones buzzed at the same time. It was a message from Vick, letting them know that she’s sick to the point where she has lost her voice, so she won’t be able to make it to the shoot.

While Alessia and Ella started discussing their options, you were thinking. “I can host it.” Three pairs of eyes met you in question. “Come on, it will be fun! I know all of you, and the fans know me as well.” It didn’t take much to convince them of your idea.

“Hello and welcome to this very special episode of The Tooney and Russo Show with me not Vick Hope.” Alessia and Ella cheered excitedly and Alessia announced “It’s the season finale!” 

“As you can hear and see, I am not Vick. Sadly Vick had to miss out because she’s sick, but I am here to step in. My name is Y/n Williamson, and yes the last name should tell you all you need to know. Speaking of Williamson’s, I am not the only one of them here today. My sister, Captain of the Lionesses, Leah Williamson is our guest for this episode.”

The four of you chat for a bit about the relationship with Leah on and off the pitch. It was an easy environment and it felt like it was just a chat between friends, which of course really it was. 

“Oh and before any of you start saying Tooney is the third wheel because Y/n is my girlfriend and Leah’s sister.” She looked between the two of you with a chuckle, “Let me tell you that those two are like the same person.”

“They really are.” Leah chimes in. “Sometimes when I see Y/n with Ella and Alessia, I think she might be dating Ella instead.” 

“In another life.” You joke, getting a laugh out of the Lionesses trio. “Yeah, we are pretty similar. We have the same sense of humour, and have a lot of the same opinions on things. When Less started dating her, I was afraid that maybe my bond with Less would be affected, but I think Y/n made us even closer.”

“Yeah, sometimes I even feel like the third wheel with them.” Alessia laughs. “But you love it.” Ella says in defence. “Yeah I do, I’m glad the two of you get along so well.”

“At this point, I think we annoy Leah and Alessia equally.” You say proudly, and Ella agrees with you. ”You two are a nightmare when you team up against us.” Leah says teasingly. “But we love you.” Alessia follows up quickly.

When everyone was done laughing you moved onto the next topic. You asked about them winning the Euros and how football changed in England after, and how Alessia’s move from United to Arsenal was through the perspective of her former and new club teammate.

“I actually had a question for you, Y/n.” Ella put out into the group. “What’s it like having the England captain, the woman that is the face of English football, as your sister?”

“That is an interesting question actually. I admire her for everything she has done and is doing, and I am so proud of her and to be her sister, but at home she’s just my sister. We still argue about who gets the last ham sandwich, and who took the last cookie from the jar.” You joke.”

“Oh yeah,” Alessia hooks on, “The love for ham sandwiches runs in the family, it’s not just Leah.”

“I’ve got another question!” Ella perks up. You chuckle, “If you wanted to host, you could’ve just said so.” She sends you a challenging look, before biting back. “Wouldn’t have to if you did your job right.” You chuckle, “Okay fine, you win this one. What’s your question?”

“Well, I know the story, but I’ve seen some comments from fans wanting to hear how Less and Y/n got together, with Leah being Less her captain and all.” You glance at Alessia, letting her speak for the both of you.

“Oh that is an interesting one. Many people think Leah wouldn’t have liked us getting together, but she actually told me to ask Y/n out.” Leah nodded, “Yeah, they kept looking at each other with heart eyes, and I couldn’t take their pining any longer. Every time I was trying to eat my ham sandwich in peace, they would just be all gross.”

You raised your shoulders, “Even I was shocked when Less told me that Leah approved. Now it makes sense though. Leah has always protected me and Jacob, and wants us to be happy. She knows Less and knew that she would treat me right.”

“Alright alright, we get it love birds, don’t ruin my appetite for lunch with your sappiness.” Leah jokes. “Speaking of lunch, I think we’re about ready to go have some. Thank you everyone who has stuck with the Tooney and Russo Show all season, personally I cannot wait for them to start on another season. As always, send in your questions and it could be featured in one of the next episodes!”

As you finished your sentence, the three girls waved to the camera and said bye. The cameras and microphones got turned off, and that concluded the first season of the podcast. “That was so fun!” Leah agreed, “Yeah, thank you so much for letting me be a part of this.”

After the four finished lunch, you went your separate ways again. You and Alessia made your way home, her hand in yours as you strolled the streets. “You were a natural, darling.” You smiled, “Yeah? It was a lot of fun, thank you for allowing me to join you.”

“Mhm! Vick might fear for her job when she sees the episode.” Your girlfriend jokes with a little nudge to your shoulder. “Hmm, as much as I loved hosting, Vick is a much better host. Plus that way I can just sit behind the scenes and look at you with heart eyes all episode.

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[synthetickitsune]

Woozi (SVT) | Afterglow fluff | 0.6k | gn!reader warnings: mentions of previous sexual activities but nothing explicit

His eyes are so bright. It's not exactly a fresh observation but everything feels new, somehow. Maybe you're only still coming back to your senses. All of him is bright. And he's bright, inside and out. And it doesn't register in your brain that he can't read your thoughts and so your wide smile and fond eyes make no sense to him. 

"What is it?" Jihoon asks, one of his hands coming up to stroke your cheek. If he's bright, then you’re soft. He marvels at the long-known and yet somehow new revelation. He runs the very tips of his fingers up and down your cheek and the side of your face. You’d give into him so easily if he pressed, but he won’t. He feels each little dip and tiny scar and he's so glad you're you, and not some perfect doll playing at being human. He could touch you forever. And, like you, he too doesn't think to tell you. Maybe you'll be able to read it from the lift of the corners of his lips. 

"What is it?" you mirror and he laughs softly before pulling you in for a kiss. Your lips are so soft. His kiss makes you feel like you're glowing from the inside.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers against your lips, unashamed to tell you how he feels in the precious minutes when you’re covered by the blanket of serenity and satisfaction. 

“You too,” …but he remains bashful when it’s his turn to accept praise.

Reality threatens to burst your little bubble soon - you'll need to clean up. You're both sweaty, and the sheets are messy, and your bodies are messy too, but you want to stay like this forever - to simply float on a cloud with Jihoon by your side. His smile could chase storm clouds away. 

"Come closer," is what he says, but it's different words you hear and that you return by pressing a lingering kiss to the underside of his jaw as you cuddle up to him. You will yourself to ignore the drying bodily fluids on your skins. 

His arms are strong but gentle around you, and you let yourself feel small and vulnerable for a second. A rare treat that you both only allow yourself with each other. And even so you don’t usually get the courage to unless it’s in the moments like this. You breathe in deeply his scent, a hint of his cologne still present, just like he can faintly smell your shampoo in your hair.

There's no need to say anything more. Soon the endorphins will give way to the rest of what you can feel but until then, you want to bask in his warmth and the feeling of his nails scratching lightly along your spine. He, too, seems reluctant to even think about pulling away from your lips singing sweet praises into his ear, genuine reassurances that he'd usually shy away from. 

Right now, though, he's already naked and so are you, and you're so soft and pliant under his touch that he can show as much trust in you as you show him. What would be the point in hiding if you’ve already bared yourselves to each other completely?

Jihoon closes his eyes again and nuzzles further into your hair. You fit so well against his body, like with each embrace you’re molding yourself into him. It’s a nice thought, that you’d become the one who’s meant to be for each other. Without the intervention of fate, destiny, without supernatural ties and bonds. Just two humans loving each other, choosing each other for no other reason than love and trust.

It’s a foreign feeling. A scary one too. Do you feel scared like he does? Does it make your heart race just like his? He hugs you closer. Doubts are for later. For now he only needs to hold you.

[tyrion]

"Don't you dare think that there is anything -- past or present -- that I would put in front of you."

Dean Winchester, 8.23 "Sacrifice"

Source (me): x

[urdadsceilingfan]

I love the idea of Ford and Stan reconciling LONG before Weirdmageddon starts, what’s even better is that they reconcile so easily. It’s so seemless. I can see them bonding, they go fishing together, Ford introduces Stan to the town who immediately love him just as Ford knew they would, especially Lazy Susan (she likes his robot arm)

And just Ford doing his absolute damndest to show Stan how much he cares about him, tells him everyday and Stan just soaks it all in and can’t help but get emotional, cuz this is all he’s ever wanted. To be with and be loved by his brother, forever.

And with Stan’s presence by his side, Ford is now more laid back and allows Mabel to be more creative with her attractions. Ford can’t help but smile when he sees Stan and Mabel hanging out and even Dipper tagging along with them and even better all three of them bringing him along too.

“Quality Family time, Poindexter. You’re my brother, you’re part of this family too.”

Seeing Stan bond so effortlessly with their niece and nephew melts Ford’s heart cuz that is what Stan is really good at. His brother may not be a genius in science or school but he was with people. And that’s where he himself, has always lacked, and he admires and loves Stan all the more. And vows to never ever let Stan call himself stupid or worthless ever again.

[wolverigrl]

Request for Hugh story.

The reader gets a little jealous when Hugh has to spend some time with his ex wife and kids, so to show his girlfriend just how much he loves her. Hugh makes her romantic dinner just for them.

Jelousy

Hugh Jackman x reader

!A/N! I hope you like this requested story! <3

Warnings: jealousy, cheesy, nothing more!

Enjoy!

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It had been a year and a half since Hugh and I had started dating. The first year had been incredible - dream-like, really. But things had changed. It started slowly, creeping in like an unwanted shadow. His work, the endless promotion for his new movie, had taken over our lives. We barely saw each other anymore. And when he wasn’t jetting across the globe for press junkets, he was here in New York - spending time with his ex-wife and their kids.

I knew it was important for him to be there for them, to maintain that family bond. And I understood that. I tried to understand it. But lately, it felt like I was always waiting. Waiting for him to come home. Waiting for some kind of sign that I still mattered.

And today? Today was the final straw.

I had seen the photos online—Hugh and Deborra-Lee with their kids, laughing, looking so perfect together. Like nothing had ever changed between them. It wasn’t rational, I knew that. He had been married to her for years, and they shared a lot of history. But no matter how hard I tried to suppress it, the jealousy kept bubbling up inside me, threatening to spill over.

So when Hugh finally walked through the door that evening, his face lit up with a tired but warm smile, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

"Had a good day?" I asked, my tone far too sharp for what was supposed to be a casual question.

He dropped his keys on the counter and looked at me, confused by the edge in my voice. "Yeah... spent the day with the kids. It was nice. What about you?"

"Great." I replied, unable to mask the bitterness. "Saw the pictures. You all looked... happy."

Hugh's brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Of course, we were happy. I was spending time with the kids- "

"And your ex-wife." I cut him off, my arms crossing defensively. "You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?"

He stared at me, his confusion deepening. "Y/n, she's the mother of my kids. We’re not together, you know that. You have nothing to worry about."

"I don’t?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "Because it feels like I’m the last thing on your mind these days. I’m starting to forget what it’s like to even have you around."

Hugh stepped toward me, his voice soft but firm. "That’s not fair, y/n. You know how crazy things have been with the movie, and I’m trying to be there for the kids. It’s complicated."

"Yeah, it is complicated!" I snapped, my frustration boiling over. I could feel the words tumbling out of me, unstoppable now. "I would never ask you to choose between me and them, Hugh, but I’m not asking for much. I just want to feel like I matter too."

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated but trying to stay calm. "You do matter. You know you do."

"Do I?" I shot back, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to stay composed. "Because lately, it feels like I’m just here. Waiting for you to remember I exist!"

Hugh’s expression softened, his frustration giving way to something more vulnerable. "Love, come on... it’s not like that."

But I couldn’t listen anymore. The flood of emotions was too much, and I needed space. "I need to get out of here." I muttered, grabbing my coat and heading for the door.

"Y/n, wait!" Hugh called after me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I just needed air, space - anything to clear my head. The door clicked shut behind me, and I found myself walking aimlessly through the streets of New York, my emotions swirling in my chest like a storm.

The crisp night air hit my face as I wandered through the city. My mind raced as I replayed the argument over and over. Why had I let it get this far? Why hadn’t I talked to him sooner, before it all exploded like this? I knew he wasn’t intentionally pushing me away, but lately, it felt like I was invisible.

After an hour of walking and stewing in my own thoughts, I realized I needed to head back. I couldn’t avoid this forever. We needed to talk - really talk. And maybe I needed to apologize for being... well, dramatic. I sighed, turning back toward the apartment, my steps slower, more thoughtful.

When I finally reached the door, I took a deep breath, expecting tension. But as I stepped inside, I was met with something completely unexpected.

The lights were dim, and there was soft music playing in the background. I slipped off my shoes and walked towards the kitchen. The smell of something delicious - my favorite dish - wafted through the air. Candles flickered gently on the dining table, which had been set for two. The entire room felt warm and inviting, a strong contrast to the storm that had been brewing between us earlier.

I stood frozen in the corridor, blinking in disbelief. Hugh emerged from the kitchen, his eyes soft and apologetic as he wiped his hands on a towel.

"Hey." he said gently, his voice carrying a tenderness that tugged at my heart. "I, uh... I made dinner. I figured we could use some time, just the two of us."

I stared at him, the earlier frustration slowly melting away. "Hugh... you didn’t have to do all this."

"Yes, I did." he said, stepping closer. His eyes searched mine, and the sincerity in them made my chest tighten. "I’ve been so caught up in everything - work, the kids - that I forgot to make time for us. And that’s not okay. You’re right."

I bit my lip, guilt washing over me. "I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I just... I was feeling- "

"I know." he interrupted softly, his hands reaching out to gently hold mine. "And I get it. I should’ve been more present with you. I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter because you do, more than anything."

I swallowed hard, my heart swelling as I looked up at him. The anger, the jealousy - it all felt so small now. He had always been the man who showed up, who cared, even when life got overwhelming. And right now, he was standing here, showing me exactly how much I meant to him.

"I’m sorry." I whispered, my voice trembling as I squeezed his hands.

Hugh shook his head, his thumbs brushing over my knuckles gently. "I’m sorry too. I love you, y/n. I never want you to feel like you’re anything less than my priority."

The weight of his words settled over me, soothing the ache I’d been carrying for days. I let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension between us dissolve. "I love you too." I said softly, my heart swelling with the truth of it.

He smiled, that familiar, warm smile that made me feel like everything was going to be okay. "So... how about we start over? No more fighting. Just... dinner."

I nodded, smiling despite myself. "Yeah. I’d like that."

We sat down at the table, and the moment was so simple, so intimate. Hugh had made my favorite dish - pasta with that special sauce he always made when we had date nights at home. The food was incredible, but what made it even better was the way we kept stealing glances at each other, the quiet joy in the air as we ate.

By the time we were done, my heart felt lighter. We moved to the couch, and I leaned into him as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. I could feel the warmth of his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.

"I missed this." I whispered, resting my head against him.

Hugh pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "I missed you. I hate that I made you feel like I wasn’t here. I’ll do better, I promise."

I tilted my head up to look at him, my eyes meeting his. The tenderness in his gaze made my heart skip a beat. "You always show up when it matters, Hugh. I just... I need to know you’ll keep doing that."

"I will," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "You’re not an afterthought, Y/N. You’re my home."

Those words wrapped around me, filling the cracks that had formed over the past few weeks. I reached up, cupping his face as I kissed him softly, pouring every bit of love and gratitude I felt into that kiss.

When we pulled away, I couldn’t help but smile. "You really went all out, huh? Cooking, candles... the whole deal."

Hugh grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Well, I figured you deserved a little romance after putting up with me."

I laughed softly, leaning in closer. "I think we both deserved it."

He tilted his head down, kissing the top of mine softly. "I don’t ever want you to doubt how much I love you. I know I’ve been distracted, but I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere."

My heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around me like a promise. I looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "I know." I whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. "And I love you. I just... needed to hear it."

He smiled, a lazy, boyish grin that made my stomach flutter. "Then I’ll make sure you hear it more often."

He leaned down, brushing his lips against mine, slow and sweet, like he had all the time in the world just to kiss me. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was full of everything - love, reassurance, and that deep, quiet connection we shared. When we finally pulled away, our foreheads rested against each other, and I could feel his breath against my lips.

We stayed wrapped up together on the couch, the warmth of his body melting away any lingering tension. His arm was draped protectively around my shoulders, pulling me close, while I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was comforting, grounding. Every time I shifted, he pulled me in just a little tighter, like he couldn’t stand the thought of even an inch between us.

"You know." he murmured, his fingers lazily tracing circles on my arm, "I’ve missed this. Just being here with you. No noise, no schedules. Just... us."

I smiled into his chest, feeling the softness of his words settle over me like a warm blanket. "I’ve missed it too. More than I realized."

We sat there for a while longer, the quiet of the apartment settling around us. Hugh shifted slightly, pulling a blanket over us and tucking it in around my shoulders. He kissed my forehead again, lingering as though he couldn’t help himself.

"And you know." he whispered softly, his voice like velvet against the night air, "you’re my favorite part of everything. Of coming home, of my whole day. You’re it."

My heart melted. I snuggled deeper into his embrace, closing my eyes as I felt the warmth of his love surround me. "You’re my favorite too." I whispered back, feeling safe, cherished, and so completely loved.

We stayed that way, wrapped up in each other, letting the world fade away. No more jealousy, no more distance. Just us, together. And in that moment, everything felt perfect - like this was exactly where we were supposed to be.

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I'd appreciate feedback! <3

xoxo

[velaryoncoffee]

There's something so interesting about the timing of Book!Helaegon's children's birth that says so much with so little.

They had Jaehaera and Jaehaerys within a year of their wedding. This means they were very sexually active together around this time! You could argue it's done out of duty, sure, but Aegon reads like someone very prone to his whims and emotions, much like in the show. This might mean they were/grew passionate for each other around this time or maybe before?

Perhaps the anticipation of their wedding made them spend more time with each other, initially out of obligation, and later from fondness. Or maybe the interest they had in each other compounded over the years, like a subtle slow burn that erupted on their wedding as they realised they were bonded for life, not only in blood but also by the law of the land.

However, my favourite detail has to be the timing of Maegor's birth.

You're telling me that Helaena gave birth 9 months after Jace asked to dance with her at Viserys's family dinner? The one that had Aegon so pissed?

The possessiveness is real. You know the sex that night was wild.

Aegon will not share his beloved sister with anyone. And he'll fuck a son into her womb on their marriage bed for all to see.

If Helaena's defense of Aegon's seat on the Throne is anything to go by, she might be defensive and fond of him just the same. She doesn't come off as someone with any sense of political ambition to ascend as the Queen whatsoever; if anything she asked Blood and Cheese to take her life instead of her children's. From where I stand all she wanted was to live happily with her family, and her husband having his birth right (as contentious as it may be) was included in that vision.

Again, you could interpret any of this in many ways, in bad faith especially. Aegon could be misusing his power as a husband to impose himself on her, and her sense of responsibility, passivity and sensitive nature could have led her to go along with whichever wishes he could have had.

However I personally don't believe that was GRRM's thought process as he wrote those pages. The show depicted Aegon doing many terrible things and it tainted his already flawed character beyond even what the show writers intended. Also Alicent would never allow any harm to come to her little girl. Of that, I am 100% sure.

[pingu-4]

I've seen a lot of raven!Neil fics where neil helps jean and Kevin escape form ravens and he escapes with them/joins them later.

But what I really need to see is a fic from jean's and kevin's pov, where they escape but Neil is stuck being a raven, stuck being nathaniel.

I want to see them join foxes but still think about what is happening with Neil right now, what punishments he is getting for their escape. I want to see them scared for his well-being, while not being able to patch him up or do anything. I want to see them trying to heal, being full of guilt at the same time, because Neil, their ally, their savior, their brother is probably going through hell because of them right now and he's all alone. I want to see them guilty, because Neil has helped them so many times, he had saved them and they left him there to suffer, even though they know that if they even tried to come back to nest Neil would kill them himself.

I want to see Jean mourning his partner forever. I want to see him turining around expecting Neil to be there only to see empty spot next to him. I want to see him grabing car keys to go back to nest, to Neil, when loneliness, guilt, fear, everything is too much, only to be stopped by Kevin from doing anything stupid, from going back to their abusers. I want him trying to keep up on living, only because Neil gave up on his freedom, his life for it. I want Jean to miss his little British devil, while literally anything reminds him of neil.

I want Kevin getting himself drunk only not to think about about what it cost for him to be at foxes, not to think about who pays for it, who he had left behind. I want him to wonder why Neil sacrifaced himself for him, he understands why Neil did it for jean, but him? What did he do to deserve it? I want him to feel guilty he didn't help Neil more, to wonder why he didn't do anything when he had the chance, wonder if he would be brave enough to do anything different if he had a chance to. I want Kevin to miss this loud mouth who gave him a chance of better life.

I want them both to live with a ghost of Neil among them. To talk about him, what would he do in any situation, what they remember about him even though it causes them pain and they are trying to move on, because they are too afraid to forget about him. I want them to wonder why they didn't manage to force him to go with them. I want to see them hoping to see Neil every morning when they wake up, only to be met with harsh reality. To think every short red-head might be him. To have so many feeling when they get that one phone call from Neil. To wonder if there is any way that they can help him. I want to see them as puzzles with one piece missing, learning to live that way.

I want to see the foxes wondering who that raven jean and Kevin often talk about is. To wonder who is that guy that they never met, that had such a big impact and is so important to these two broken boys. I want foxes to see Kevin and jean and just know that they lost something, that even though they escaped and are healing, they are still grieving someone. I want them to hear stories that involve that third person, that "neil" but never getting a direct answer as to who exactly he is and what happened to him.

I want Jean and Kevin hearing the news that "nathaniel wesninski" got injured in some freaky incident and them knowing it wasn't and incident. I want them to be terryfied of what riko did to Neil. Or being even more terryfied of what if it was Neil that did something to himself. They know he is strong, stronger then them both, but what if when he is all alone, facing hell, without any support, without anyone who he has to fight for he finally gave up and decided to die on his own terms?

I want them to see other news, that he had died from these injures, and just break down not believing that Neil, their Neil is gone. Is gone and they weren't there for him in his last moment. I want Kevin and jean to wonder if he knew how much he mattered to them, to wonder if they had said it to him, made it aware to him enough times. I want them to suffer because they promised that all of them will escape one day, but while Kevin and Jean are foxes now, Neil forever will be stuck a raven, forever will be remembered as nathaniel wesninski by most people, will never be able to make Neil a real person for someone else then the three of them. I want them to think about how the one person who saved their lifes, gave them a reason to live, died himself and they didn't do anything to prevent it, didn't manage to stop it. I want them to finally spill all the truth to the foxes. To see Jean and kevin learning to live with all of it, trying to live to their fullest, maybe even dedicating their games to Neil. For them, to do it for themselves. And for Neil.

Or i want them to finally have enough, realizing that this is the last moment where they can do something to help, when they hear about the injury. To see them somehow getting Neil out and seeing how much more he is hurt, mentally and physically than he was the last time they saw him, but still being the same old neil. Being happy that he finally is with them but also sad seeing him in that state. I want them to get Neil into foxes, not wanting to leave him, worried, being very protective of him and helping him heal too. Making neil josten real. To have foxes to finally meet that Neil they heard about and being surprised to see how Kevin and jean, not very warm or open people are so fond of him, how they act so different towards him, how they finally are the way they were supposed to be. Together.

[zeravmeta]

hakuno coming to chaldea based on their bond lines is just them chilling and vibing and going "alright time to be a supportive senpai!" and it cuts to them hanging out with ciel arcueid shiki sieg just all the other nasuverse protags at chaldea having a good time vibing and then the camera shifts slightly to show guda at the far end of the table smoking 3 cigarettes and chugging their 5th beer and when asked how theyre doing guda goes "oh im fine :)"

[blorger]

yes, hello, I would like the record to show that when Harry and Draco meet at Madame Malkin's and Harry is reminded strongly of Dudley Draco hasn't done anything that is particularly vile, he's just

been blond (technically "pale", we can't yet make the Dudley to Draco connection via hair color)

talked about having two involved parents

I direct the jury to this exchange:

Draco is just behaving like a kid, even if he uses the world "bully" ( he's clearly using it hyperbolically) and drawls (the Malfoy Special, if you will). This is not exactly villain foreshadowing 101.

Something could be said for how Draco's words suggest a power dynamic wherein he's in control of his parents, like Harry views Dudley and the Dursleys's relationship, but also... Draco is a child making boastful remarks to another child, one would expect exaggeration as par for the course.

I fail to see any signs of Great Evil; Draco's phrasing may have triggered feelings of inadequacy and maybe also envy, (Harry wants a family most of all as per the mirror of erised) but also, Harry has presumably been going to school and has met plenty of parented children, this can't be a new situation.

What I'm saying is that jkr is doing a bit of a tell don't show, she is giving us the key with which we are to interpret every one of Draco and Harry's interactions from this moment on but kind of falls flat in the execution.

What I (and others beside me) read in their following interaction is just two people not understanding eachother. One boy feels confused, insecure and out of his depth and the other one doesn't know this is happening. Draco is trying to make a good impression on a schoolmate by saying any and all impressive things he can think of, not knowing that by repeating his father's greatest hits he's inadvertently alienating Harry.

In conclusion, your honor, I posit to you that upon their meeting Harry immediately feels strongly about Draco but, in his inexperience (and lack of emotional development see: cupboard), he is unable to identify the origin of said strong feelings and attributes them to dislike (the Dudley Connection). Thus a scene meant to highlight their incompatibility ends up foreshadowing Harry and Draco's unusual bond instead.

tldr: drarry is a great ship, jkr is an idiot savant who managed to write the greatest enemies to lovers storyline of all time without meaning to and also I know I'm reaching but I've decided this is the bible truth since truth is what you make of it.

[byerseason]

stranger things fandom is the only place on earth where people watch a found family trope and see literal step siblings that the show keeps highlighting and say “i think will doesn’t like eleven” and it’s all because he didn’t sacrifice himself for el yet.

el lying about her entire life is silly and cute but will *lying* (yes, they say that) about helping el fix her project is horrible. and will was the one saying she shouldn’t be lying to mike.

mike changing the entire topic in rinkomania and yapping about will rolling his eyes isn’t a problem, but will responding with “what about us?” is the most selfish thing ever.

will saying “we’re her brothers and we’re family” doesn’t mean anything because he just had to save the situation. he deeply hates her.

will being the only one asking if she is okay and almost crying doesn’t mean anything because that was probably just millie and noah’s bond.

will is the worst for not keeping mike and el’s relationship in check and not letting mike know about everything in el’s life.

he is the worst for not being a saint and knowing el was lying to mike for months.

he is also so selfish for expecting the bare minimum from his life long best friend which is just being best friends again and not being ignored.

he is so annoying for not being able to let go of his childhood after losing it with horrible traumas and expecting his friends to give him a SINGLE day. but mike ditching all his friends for the entire summer is cute.

it doesn’t mean anything when everyone ignored dustin but will, because he probably just wanted to play games.

he is also a horrible person for not standing up against el’s bullies after being bullied for who he is for his entire life, by his entire town and school and even biological father.

and also, him brutally sacrificing his feelings for mike and el’s relationship doesn’t mean he loves el because he only did that for himself.

in conclusion, every character is allowed to do every wrong until it’s will byers who is the closest to being perfect.

[thewrstinme]

first one shot 🤓☝️

18+ minors dni

tags: smut, overstim ig, denial, aftercare, praise, fluff, bestfriends who r just in love w eachother idk dawg

notes: not proofread lawl

18+ under cut

It’s late at night, and you’re lounging on the couch in your shared apartment with Noah. You’re wearing one of his oversized band t-shirts and a pair of shorts, your hair in a messy bun, and your piercing eyes lazily watching TV. Noah walks in, freshly showered, shirtless, and still damp, his grey sweatpants slung low on his hips. He sits beside you, close enough for your bodies to brush.

You’ve both had a long day, Noah having just finished a show, and the adrenaline is still buzzing between you both. As you sit there, Noah leans in, resting his head on your shoulder, his arm draped around your waist. You chuckle, teasing him about his dramatic entrance. He nuzzles into your neck, his breath warm against your skin, causing your to instinctively shiver.

“You always do that, don’t you?” you murmur, poking at his damp hair. “Get all close when you’re like this.”

“Like what?” he smirks, his lips brushing lightly against your neck in response.

“Like… clingy,” you quip with a smirk of your own, though you don’t move away. In fact, you shift slightly, letting his head rest more comfortably against you.

His fingers absentmindedly start tracing patterns on your stomach, dipping under the hem of the t-shirt, just enough to make you squirm. There’s a charged silence between you two. He leans in closer, his lips brushing the side of your jaw, playful but deliberate. You turn your head slightly, meeting his gaze, the distance between you closing.

“You like it though, don’t you?” His voice is teasing, but there’s a deeper undertone now, as his hand gently cups your cheek.

You tilt your head in challenge, your lips barely brushing against his. “Maybe,” you whisper.

The space between you both dissolves as Noah closes the gap, pressing his lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. There’s no rush, no urgency—just the weight of unspoken words and your unorthodox bond. His hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer until you’re half in his lap, fingers tangled in his hair as the kiss deepens.

The flirtation, the playful touches, the banter—all of it culminates in this quiet, sensual moment, where nothing needs to be said, and everything is understood.

You pull back slightly, your breath a little uneven, eyes still locked on Noah’s. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze—affection, amusement, maybe even curiosity—as his hand rests firmly on your lower back, keeping you close.

“You’re trouble, Sebastian,” you murmur, biting your lower lip, the tension between you both palpable.

Noah raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, I’m trouble?” he teases, his fingers lightly brushing against the hem of your shirt again, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You know you are,” you retort, playfully pushing at his chest, but it’s half-hearted. Your body betrays you; you don’t really want to move away, and he knows it. His touch lingers on your skin, familiar and intoxicating.

In one smooth motion, Noah shifts, bringing you fully into your lap now, his arms encircling your waist. Your breath catches as you feel the warmth of his bare chest against yours, the closeness making your heart race. His hands rest on your hips, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles just above your waistband.

“Admit it,” he says softly, his lips brushing against your ear, “you love this.”

You chuckle, the sound low and throaty. “I’d say tolerate,” you shoot back, though the slight tremor in your voice gives you away. You can feel your pulse quickening, the heat rising between you both. Your fingers run over his shoulders, tracing the lines of his tattoos, your touch lingering as if memorizing every inch of him.

Noah leans back slightly, giving you a better look at him, his smirk turning softer, more intimate. “You’re bad at pretending you don’t like me,” he teases again, his hands tightening slightly on your hips, grounding you in place.

“Shut up,” You whisper, leaning down to kiss him again, this time harder, more insistent. Your hands move to your jaw, fingers brushing against the rough stubble, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Your lips part against hers, your tongues meeting in a slow, heated rhythm that makes your toes curl.

He groans softly, his hands moving up your back, one of them tangling in your messy bun and pulling you closer. The kiss grows more intense, filled with a mixture of playful energy and simmering tension that’s been building between you both for ages. There’s an undeniable familiarity to the way you touch—like you’ve done this a thousand times before, yet every kiss feels new, electric.

You press your body into his, and he responds by tilting you slightly, making you feel weightless in his hold. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of soft, wet kisses as he goes, the sensation making your breath hitch in your throat. He reaches your collarbone, nipping gently, and you gasp softly, gripping his shoulders tighter.

“Thought you said we weren’t doing this,” Noah murmurs against your skin, though he doesn’t stop. His tone is light, teasing, but there’s an edge of seriousness to it.

You pull back, your blue eyes meeting his again, and for a moment, you both just stare at each other, your breathing heavy and your hearts pounding in sync. There’s a line here—one you’ve been dancing around for a long time.

“Maybe I lied,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, as your lips find his once more, and everything else fades away.

You melt into the kiss, the warmth of his body melding with yours. You tangle your fingers in his damp hair, drawing him closer until there's nothing between you but the heat and your shared breath. Your heart beats with a newfound rhythm, each thud echoing the urgency that only Noah can create. Your lips part, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, deepening the connection between you two.

Slowly, you ease your weight onto him, your bodies slotting together in a familiar dance. Your hands roam over his bare chest, feeling the strength of his muscles and the warmth of his skin.

You both know that this isn't just a passing moment. There's depth and purpose behind every movement. Your hands slide onto his chest, feeling his taut muscles and the heat of his flesh. Your lips move away from his, leaving a trail of soft kisses down the side of his neck. When you reach the spot where his neck and shoulder meet, you nip at the skin, just hard enough to make him groan.

He responds with a low groan, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, his fingertips feather-light along the curve of your spine. You shudder at the simple touch.

You can't help but smirk against his skin as he gasps at the unexpected sensation, the sound sending a thrill down your spine. Your fingers continue their exploration, tracing the outline of his hipbone before sliding even lower.

Noah's hands grip your waist, pulling you onto him even closer. You can feel his arousal growing, and it only adds to the intensity of this dance. He moves his hands up your back, pushing your shirt up with it.

His hands are warm and steady as he pulls your shirt off, leaving you in just your underwear. His lips find yours again, with a desperate hunger. His fingers dance along your curves, sending tingles down your spine. His touch is both tender and possessive, as if he's marking his claim upon you, and you let him.

Noah’s lips move down your neck, following the curve of your collarbone. You can’t help but squirm beneath him, every touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. He knows all your sensitive spots, and he doesn’t hesitate to exploit them. You arch your back, pressing into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair. His hands find the waistband of your underwear, and slowly, he starts to pull them down, his lips still moving, worshiping your body.

You feel exposed but also strangely free, as if every layer of your defenses has been stripped away, leaving only the raw.

“Fuck baby, you’re so beautiful laid out for me like this.” Noah sighs.

The words roll from Noah's lips in a soft, low murmur against your ear, his hands running over your skin with reverence. You can feel the heat in his touch, the depth of his lust, but also the sincerity in his words. It's a heady mix, and you find yourself wanting to lose yourself in it completely.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him as he presses light kisses to your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The rhythm of your breathing seems to sync with his, slow and deep, filling the room with a heady, intimate hum.

Noah’s hands slide lower, cupping your backside, holding you closely as he kisses a path up your chest. His lips trace your collarbone, sending a shiver down your body. His hands knead gently, and you respond instinctively, your hips rising to meet him. You can feel his arousal against your thigh, a physical reflection of the shared hunger between you.

His movements are slow, almost worshipful, as if he’s committing every contour of your body to memory. You feel claimed, desired, in a way that leaves you breathless.

"You're so damn gorgeous," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. "Every inch of you."

His words, laced with intensity, mingle with the heat of the moment. Your body responds to him instinctively, a symphony of sensations. His kisses grow more deliberate, his hands more possessive, almost as if he can't get enough—doesn't want to let go. With an urgent groan, his mouth finds yours again, kissing you deeply, passionately, his tongue slipping between your lips.

Your breath catches in your throat, but the heat of the moment carries you along. You find yourself responding to Noah with an equal fervor, your kisses growing wilder, more heated. Your fingers tangle in his hair, drawing him closer, as if you fear he might pull away.

"I want you, Noah," You whisper, your voice barely more than a breath against his lips. "All of you."

His hands roam your body, tracing the lines of the tattoo painted on your shoulder, the curve of your ass. He seems to respond without words, kissing you with an urgency that borders on desperation.

"You have all of me," He breathes, his lips moving down your jaw, nibbling gently. "You’ve always had all of me."

The confession hangs in the air like a tangible thing, a raw admission. His hands continue their journey across your body, touching, caressing, claiming. Every touch, every kiss, adds to the intimacy, the connection growing stronger with each moment. You can feel it in the way his body responds to yours, in the way his breath mingles with yours.

Your skin burns with each touch, each caress. The room is filled with the sound of unsteady breaths, soft moans, and the rustle of skin against fabric. Every sense is heightened, every nerve thrumming with both anticipation and pleasure. It's a whirlwind of sensations, a storm of desire that you're both adrift in.

"I need you, baby," Noah whispers, his voice rougher, a reflection of his rising need. "Can I have you, sweetheart? Let me take care of you.”

You can hardly think, hardly process the magnitude of his words. Your body reacts to his touch before your mind can catch up, your hips arching towards him in answer to his question. Your response is a breathless, "Yes," whispered against his lips.

His hands are everywhere, seemingly everywhere at once. Your body responds to his touch with a fervour that's almost primal, and you can feel every inch of him against you, the fire in your blood burning hotter with every passing moment.

"Good girl," he murmured against your skin, his lips moving lower down your body, tracing a path over your breasts, down your stomach, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties.

"Now hold still for me, love." his mouth was hot and wet as he continued kissing his way over your body, stopping between your legs and pressing a kiss against your heat through the fabric.

He could never get enough of you.

The heat of his mouth sends a shiver through you, and you instinctively follow his direction, your body going still, the tension in your body coiling even tighter. His lips are like a brand against you, a claiming, leaving you trembling with anticipation.

He nuzzles briefly against your thigh, his tongue flicking out to taste you through the thin barrier of fabric. The sensation is electric, and you find yourself arching into him, your breath hitching in your throat, your nails digging into the sofa.

"Noah," You breathe, the word a barely audible gasp as he continues, teasing and tasting you so achingly close. Your body trembles with the intense sensations, your mind a swirling vortex of desire. He responds by pressing firmer kisses against your most sensitive areas, his fingers skimming beneath the waistband of your panties, teasingly close but not quite touching where you most yearn for his touch.

The anticipation builds, your body humming with tension as you wait for his next move. His hands are relentless, exploring every inch of you, as if he can’t get close enough, can’t get enough of you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently, urging him closer, longing for that release only he can bring.

His response is a low, gravelly chuckle against your skin, the vibrations sending a shiver down your spine. He doesn't hasten his pace, instead prolonging the sweet, sweet agony. As he works you, you feel yourself becoming more and more undone, the world narrowing to just this moment, to where his body is against yours, to the way he's drawing you closer to the edge, only to pull you back, keeping you there, poised on the brink of ecstasy but not quite allowing you the final push.

“Eager?” He taunts. You can hear the smirk in his words, the sound vibrating against your skin. The slow burn he’s created, the steady heat of his touch, is both exquisite and maddening.

"Please," You whisper, your voice a mix of need and pleading, a soft whine escaping your lips. Your body is a heady mess of sensations, all pointing towards that one release he's holding just out of reach.

He pauses, pulling back slightly, his brown eyes glinting in the dim light. “Please what, love?"

The absence of his lips, of his touch, is like a vacuum, sucking the air from your lungs. The tension in you is at its breaking point. His eyes seem to gleam with mischief and a touch of satisfaction as he watches you squirm on the bed, his fingers tracing circles on your inner thighs, purposefully close but not quite where you want them.

Words are beyond you now. All you can respond with is a soft, insistent whimper, your hips rolling slightly in a desperate attempt to guide him to where you need him most.

Your body practically vibrates with need, aching for the release he's been withholding. Noah knows exactly what he's doing, his touch, his taunts, all calculated to push you to the limit, and you're helpless to resist.

With the slightest hitch of his breath, he leans in again, his lips touching the thin fabric that still separates you. The feel of his breath mingling with yours is like a spark igniting the tinder of your need, sending the heat pooling in your core.

"You know what I want to hear, my sweet girl," he murmurs against your skin, his voice low, his words a deliberate command. His fingers ghost over your panties again, a soft brush that sends a rush of want coursing through you.

All you can do is whine in response.

"Use your words, pretty girl," Noah urges, his voice deep and commanding. His fingers trace idle circles along the edge of your panties, a teasing caress designed to drive you wild. "Tell me what you want, hmm? I can wait all night if I have to."

His taunt sends a ripple of impatience through you. You're ready, eager for everything he has to give, but his teasing words are making this game of sensual torment both exhilarating and maddening.

"Noah," you say, your voice a husky whisper, "I need you, every inch of you. I want you in every way possible. I need to feel you, to taste you, to touch every inch of you." As you speak, your fingers trail over his skin, your words echoing the urgency in your touch.

He rewards your confession with a press of his lips, his smile teasing as he murmurs, "There you go. See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" he purrs mockingly.

He slowly drags your panties down your legs, the touch of his fingers on your bare skin like a jolt to your already hypersensitive body. Then, with a swift, confident motion, he moves between your legs, his hands bracing your thighs.

Noah's lips press against your hip, his tongue flicking out to taste you delicately. He doesn't stop there, trailing kisses lower, his touch lingering, deliberate. As his lips find their target, a low groan escapes him, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh as he murmurs words that both praise and tease.

"So sweet," he murmurs, voice low and rough with want. His tongue teases you, tasting and exploring. "Do you know how long I've wanted you like this?"

His lips hover above your most sensitive places, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath, but not quite close enough to touch. He lingers there, tantalizingly close, while his fingers continue their maddening exploration of your body. You can feel the heat rising within you, a growing frustration that he's making you wait for the release you crave.

"Noah," you plead, your words a mix of need and frustration. "You’re the worst.”

He chuckles against your thigh, the sound sending a warm puff of air against your most sensitive area, just enough to tease without satisfying, "Oh, I'm the worst, am I?" He murmurs, his lips tracing a path of feather-light kisses up your leg, stopping just short of where you ache for him most.

He pulls back slightly, a cocky grin on his lips.

Oh, he's enjoying this. His lips and touch are slow, methodical, every move calculated to draw out this delicious torture before you. He knows exactly what he's doing, how to set your nerves on fire with anticipation, how to leave you gasping for more.

You can feel the heat building within you with each passing moment, a rising tide of desire that threatens to swamp you. You try to squirm, to seek more, but his fingers hold you in place, preventing your movements, the smirk on his face telling you he's in control here, completely.

His lips are a mere breath away from your most intimate area, and he continues to tease, his tongue flicking playfully, tasting and savoring you, but never quite giving you that elusive pleasure you crave. All the while, you can feel the heat of his breath against your core, a tantalizing reminder of how close he is. You're writhing now under him, the wait becoming torturous, your body craving the release he's withholding.

His low chuckle sends a shiver through you, the sound reverberating in the air like dark music. "Impatient, huh?”

He finally relents, his mouth finding your core. There's a moment of pure ecstasy as he finally gives you what you've been craving. His tongue exploring you, devouring you with a reverence that's both tender and carnal. He's relentless in his attentions, his tongue teasing and tasting, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze, his eyes dark and intense. "That's a good girl," he murmurs before returning to his work, his fingers joining his tongue, finding every sensitive spot you didn't know you had.

His words wash over you like a wave, drowning you in desire. Your head is spinning, your body aflame with need, your fingers gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer into you. His expertise is obvious, every move calculated to push you further towards the edge, to bring you closer to climax. Through the haze of pleasure he creates, all you can do is moan, arching into him as the pressure builds, your peak almost within reach

And then… he stops, his tongue and fingers stilling, his lips moving away from you, leaving you on the cusp of release, the anticipation agonizing.

You're a mess, a trembling mass of sensation, the world around you reduced to the space between you. You stare up at Noah, his eyes dark with want, his lips glistening, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You can tell he delights in this power, the ability to bring you to the brink and then pull away, the knowledge that he'll push you over the edge, but not quite yet. He's still in control, holding you at a tantalizing threshold, his words a taunting melody.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice a rough, sultry rasp. "So eager, so needy," he finishes with a soft chuckle, his fingers caressing your inner thigh. "But patience. I'm not done with you."

He leans back in, his eyes never leaving yours. He resumes where he left off, his tongue swirling, teasing, his fingers finding that sweet spot again, building back up the heat that had just began to fade. He's relentless, relentless, building you back up to that edge once more, keeping you there, his lips murmuring a steady stream of praise.

And just as you reach the peak, as your body is about to break, he once again pulls away, your climax denied. You whimper, pleading, but his fingers stilled, his lips merely hovering, leaving you in this sweet agony, dancing on the brink of release but never quite reaching it, your body trembling with pent-up need.

You feel like a live wire, every nerve ending humming with pent-up energy. You're close, so close, your body on the edge yet again, but as before, just as you're about to soar over the peak, Noah stops, leaving you hanging in this delicious limbo of anticipation.

The frustration, the frustration is immense. Your nails dig into his thighs, your breath quickening to a shallow gasp. He's relentless with his teasing, but you can also see the satisfaction in his eyes, the way his lips curve into a smirk. He loves having this effect on you, enjoys wielding this power over you. You can see it in the way he moves, in the way his hands and mouth move over your body, all calculated to draw out this sweet torment.

"Noah, please, I can't take any more." The words spill from your lips, part plea, part protest, but mostly need. Your voice is shaky, your whole body shaking from the stimulation, from the way he's been slowly driving you insane with his touch. The ache between your legs is almost painful, and now that you've started speaking, you can't stop. "I need… I need you, now, please, Noah. Please, just-"

But before you can finish, Noah silences you with a kiss, deep and hungry. His lips claim yours, his tongue thrusting into your mouth in a way that mirrors the ache you crave between your legs. His hands trace a path down your body, finally, finding your core again, his fingers slipping inside you, curling expertly, hitting that spot that makes your hips jerk up, your body finally given the release it craves.

You cry out, the orgasm washing over you, the intensity taking you by storm. Through the rush of pleasure, you can feel Noah still working you, guiding you through the waves of your climax until you're gasping, your body limp and writhing as the ecstasy continues to ripple through you.

Noah's voice is a breathless hum against your ear, his words a murmured whisper of praise. "That's my good girl, so good," he murmurs, his fingers still lazily tracing patterns on your body. "God, you’re so beautiful."

He knows you well, his knowledge of your body like a map he's committed to memory. He knows how to touch you to make your toes curl, to make you arch and moan, to make you forget your own name.

As your body begins to tremble with the aftershocks of your release, he keeps his fingers moving, dragging out your pleasure with every brush of his touch. "Such a pretty girl," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in your ear, "so perfect for me, aren't you?"

There’s a smug satisfaction in his tone, as if he’s relishing in the power he has over you, in the way he can make your body react to his touch, his words. He plays you like an instrument, pushing the right buttons to pull out the most beautiful sounds. He’s a conductor of your pleasure, and he knows exactly how to elicit the most exquisite responses from you.

"You’re shaking, love," he says, voice smug and satisfied. "Is that because of me?"

The question is a challenge, a dare, a taunt. He knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it, to admit that he has you in the palm of his hands, completely at his mercy. He loves this control, his fingers continuing to tease, continuing to explore, even though you're still trembling from your release. It's as if he can't get enough, as if he intends to push you past the point of pleasure and into the realm of near torture.

He knows just how far he can push you, how far he can take you before the pleasure turns almost painful, the boundary between pleasure and overstimulation a fine line he enjoys walking. Your reactions, your whimpers and gasps, only fuel his desire further, his touch becoming more insistent.

"Come on, sweetheart," he murmurs, "give me another. I know you can do it.”

His words, spoken in a breathless whisper against your skin, are both a challenge and a taunt, as if he’s daring you to give in again. And as he continues to tease and taunt, his teeth grazing against your skin, you can feel yourself responding, your breathing quickening, a soft moan escaping your lips as you do.

“You can give me another, right baby? Be good for me one more time, my pretty girl.” He murmurs, his fingers working you gently, his lips peppering wet kisses down your midriff, lips pressing gently against your core. “Just one more time, want to feel you cum on my mouth.”

His fingers pause for just a moment, their skilled ministrations on hold. “Can I have one more, angel?” he murmurs, his voice low and needy, his lips brushing over your thighs, his breath warm against your sensitive flesh.

Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, everything else fades away. The world narrows down to just Noah and you, the anticipation hanging heavy in the air as you both hang on the edge of this unspoken moment of consent.

Your response is a nod, a barely perceptible movement that seems to echo through the silent room, bouncing between the hushed breaths and shared glances. Noah’s fingers begin their movement again, a slow, deliberate rhythm that resonates through you, building the tension once more. His words, murmured against your skin, are like an incantation to a divine entity.

"That's it, my beautiful girl," he sighs, "Just like that. Again."

His mouth follows the path his fingers have mapped, his kisses, his touch, it’s electric, drawing you towards another peak. With each touch, you’re winding tighter, the tension building to a fever pitch. You’re on the brink, so close to the edge, but Noah seems content to linger here, prolonging the moment, drawing out the anticipation.

"Look at you,” he murmurs, “So beautiful, so perfect. One more time for me, sweetheart. Cum for me again."

Your body is a mess of sensations, every nerve standing on end, everything reduced to this one, raw moment of pleasure. You can feel Noah everywhere, his fingers, his mouth, his breath, each small action sending a jolt through you, the pressure building to a crescendo that you can’t bear anymore. As you finally let go, it’s like a tidal wave of sensation rolling over you, your whole body shuddering with the intensity.

The wave crashes over you violently, your body convulsing with the intensity, your breath catching in your lungs as it washes over you, consuming you. You find yourself gasping out his name, the pleasure too intense for words, the words "Noah" and “please" the only coherent sounds that escape your lips.

Noah's fingers continue their movement, drawing out every last wave of pleasure till you're left panting, trembling, your muscles taut, every nerve ending thrumming with the afterglow of your second release.

Noah’s mouth continues its work, his touch softer now, guiding you through your release, his lips tracing a path of slow, gentle kisses over your thighs.

"There you go," he breaths, his own voice uneven, filled with his own arousal that he's been holding back. "That's my good girl. So good for me."

As you come down from your high, your body still feeling the lingering aftershocks of your release, he finally pulls away, his eyes finding yours, his gaze darkened with desire and satisfaction.

He crawls up your body, his movements now a stark contrast to the controlled precision he displayed moments ago. His lips find yours in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in an unrestrained passion that is his way of showing his own need and desire.

His hands roam your body again, mapping every curve, every soft space between bone and muscle with a newfound urgency. He's no longer teasing, no longer holding back, and the air is thick with the heady scent of his want, his need. This time, when he speaks, his voice is rough, edged with a desire that is almost as desperate as yours.

"I need you," he growls, his lips finding your neck, his fingers fumbling with his waistband. "Now, sweetheart. I need to feel you now."

There's a raw, primal quality to him now, his control fully discarded. You can feel it in the way he's touching you, his hands a little less gentle, a little more insistent, as if he can't touch you enough, can't seem to get close enough. His need mirrors your own, the air around you thrumming with a mutual desire that is hard to ignore or resist.

He’s quickly ridding himself of the rest of his clothes, his movements frantic with need. Finally, he's naked against you, his skin smooth and hot against yours. He pauses for just a moment, his eyes searching yours, finding the answer even before you can speak. And then his lips are on yours again, his fingers tracing a path of exploration that seems insatiable. Every touch is fervent, every breath shared heavy with anticipation.

“Noah… please.” You whisper breathlessly, your body on the verge of falling limp into the sofa.

There's no hesitation, no teasing, just the urgency of his response. He doesn’t just hear your plea; he feels it, his body vibrating with anticipation. And then he's pressing into you, joining with you in one urgent, smooth motion, filling you entirely. Your joint moans echo in the room, a harmony of need and desire that fills the air. His movements are steady, each stroke deep and purposeful, his fingers gripping your hips as he pulls you closer, claiming you, filling you, making you his.

He was a man consumed, drunk on the sound of your voice, the feel of your skin, the way your bodies moved together. He was lost in you, in the fire burning between you, his own need matching yours, his every movement a declaration of desire.

Each thrust hits a spot deep inside that has you gasping, your back arching off the couch, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. "Fuck!" you moan, the word a desperate plea. "Noah, please, more…"

The praise seems to ignite something in him, his movements sharpening, his eyes darkening with need. He's relentless, driving into you with a precision that has your head swimming. Every stroke, every movement, he's drawing out your pleasure, building you back up to that edge again.

"Look at me," he growls, his lips pressing against your neck, the words both demand and request. "Look at me, pretty girl."

And as you meet his gaze, there’s a sudden shift in the air, in the intensity of the act. His eyes hold yours, mirroring your own pleasure, your connection deepening beyond the physical, beyond the raw carnal desire. His movements continue, each thrust sending a shudder down your spine, each touch leaving you gasping. Each time he buries himself in you, it's like a vow, a binding pledge.

"Beautiful,” Noah whispers, his voice a husky rasp against your skin, his lips tracing a path down your neck. "You feel so good, angel. So perfect."

His voice is barely a caress as he whispers against your skin, each word punctuated with a thrust that makes your breath catch in your throat. Each movement, each word, seems to set your nerves ablaze, the tension coiling tighter and tighter as if it could snap at any moment.

"Baby," he murmurs, his voice rough, "Look at me. I want to see you come apart like this."

You feel your inner walls clenching around him, your release rushing over you, your eyes locked onto his face. Every muscle in your body seems to tense, a silent gasp escaping your lips as you're swept away.

His movements don't slow, his rhythm steady, his voice, barely above a whisper, guiding you through every wave of your climax. "That's it, baby, let go," his words a soft encouragement against your skin, as he continues to thrust, prolonging the pleasure, as you unravel around him.

"So pretty," he mumbles against the column of your throat, his teeth grazing your skin, "So good for me." And with a final, deep thrust, he stills, his own release washing over him, joining yours, his body shaking against yours, his voice echoing your name like a prayer.

You both lay there, still connected, the silence now filled with the sounds of your shared, gasping breaths. Noah’s lips, tender now, trace a path of gentle kisses over your skin, his touch like a lullaby, soothing and comforting. His words, soft whispers of praise that echo in your head, seem to linger in the room, their presence reassuring and calming.

As your breathing begins to even out, he slowly pulls away, his body moving to lie beside you. His arm finds its place around your waist, pulling you closer, his fingers tracing idle circles on your skin as if committing your shape, your feel, to memory.

"You okay, pretty girl?" he murmurs, his tone gentle, his worry evident in the soft crease of his brow. "Not too much?" There’s a vulnerability there, a hint of concern, as if he’s trying to read your emotions like a book.

He knows your body, he knows your limits, but each time you're together, he makes sure that your comfort and pleasure are paramount. This moment—the aftermath—is as integral as the act itself, a gentle reminder of the respect and care that underlines everything. That's just the kind of person he is at his core—not just a lover, not just a partner, but a friend, your best friend, whose care runs deeper than the physical. Right now, in this moment, you know he's watching, listening, making sure you’re alright.

The room is enveloped by a soft, cozy silence. The heat of your bodies, still close, mingles with the lingering scent of your lovemaking. Noah’s hand finds yours, his fingertips tracing a gentle pattern against your skin, a quiet reassurance that he’s here, that he’s watching and listening. He’s not trying to rush or push, he’s giving you the space and care you need, letting you come down at your own pace. Aftercare, he would often tell you, is as crucial as the act itself.

You nod, a small, tired smile playing on your lips, your body already drifting towards exhaustion. "M'okay," you murmur, the sound a soft whisper in the otherwise still room. "Just tired."

"Just rest, love," he murmurs, his voice both gentle and insistent, “I’m going to clean you up.” With slow, deliberate movements, he carefully untangles himself from you, his touch gentle, his face a mask of concern.

You watch with heavy-lidded eyes as he pads towards the bathroom, his figure illuminated by the soft glow of light, his attention once again fully on your wellbeing. Even now, when his own needs and desires have been satiated, his primary concern is still your comfort.

He disappears for a moment, returning with a warm, damp cloth. With infinite care, he attends to you, his hands gentle yet thorough, making sure every inch of you is clean, every trace of intimacy removed, before he helps you to settle back against the pillows.

Your voice, low and weary but filled with gratitude, murmurs, "You're too good to me."

He pauses, his eyes meeting yours, and there's a flicker of something else behind them, a depth of emotion that goes beyond simple desire or lust. This part of him is often buried, but it always seems to emerge in these quiet moments after intimacy, when the walls have come down, and all that's left are your exposed hearts, beating in sync.

He doesn't respond, at least not verbally. Instead, he kisses you, soft and slow, his lips a gentle reassurance.

He settles beside you again, pulling the covers over the both of you. His arm wraps around you, pulling you close, your back to his chest. He's your shield, your comfort in the darkness of the night, and you can hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat against your skin. In the quiet of the night, enveloped in his warmth and his presence, you feel peace wash over you, a sense of security that only he can provide. Sleep comes easy, your body and mind finally at rest, the day's chaos and passion now reduced to mere memories.

As your consciousness begins to fade, the last thing you hear is his voice, a soft whisper in your ear, as if he can't resist sharing one final thought.

"God, you’re so beautiful" he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. "My everything." And then sleep claims you, your mind and heart both at peace underneath the night's soft embrace, held securely in the arms of the man who cherishes you beyond measure.

[galaxygermdraws]

Finally designing the Sonic cast. or. at least. Some of them. There are too many characters in this franchise these are just the ones I think about the most often. So uh. Ya. I will leave any notes under the cut since I have a lot, although not every character will have notes because we haven't explored every character (and share them with @shadesofvermillionvoid)

(reblogs with tags/comments are appreciated. Thankyu)

Sonic

Sonic's earring is Chip's bracelet. I don't think Sonic particularly likes having anything on his wrists, and Sonic Forces made that worse

The regulators are based directly on Sonic Prime, as I love the regulators in that show and think the idea of giving Sonic something similar to Shadow's Inhibitor Rings makes a lot of sense

He got those little markings due to accidentally absorbing some of Chaos' DNA

Tails

Tails has goggles like in Sonic Boom, because I like Boom Tails' design

He still has his robotic bits from Sonic Lost World, he still managed to keep his free will, but what happened was Zavok used his ability to control robots to force Tails to fight Sonic. Since then, Tails has updated his cybernetics so he can filter out any suspicious frequencies that could take his free will.

The cannon arm from Lost World is now basically like the guns from Mario and Rabbids, where you hold it in your hand and it like covers your arm. It's like that

Tails is a skeptic. This is the funniest bit but also thanks to Boom (the bad luck episode) it has some precedence

Knuckles

Knuckles in our lore is deeply spiritual (we are developing Mobian belief systems because we are Insane) , and the first time he saw Sonic he noticed he looked similar to the murals in Hidden Palace. So when Sonic turned out to be good, that made sense to him, as Sonic was common in a lot of prophetic murals around the island.

Knux actually thought Sonic was a god at first. Then he saw him choke on a Chili Dog.

He put beads around his spines after the events of Sonic Forces, since the war was over and he could relax for the first time in months.

Amy

Amy, like Knuckles, actually has a deep connection to her belief systems. We haven't figured out everything exactly, but she and Knuckles quickly bond over this aspect of their lives

I styled her quills differently because I kind of like giving her something that makes it obvious she is a hedgehog

Similarly, I gave her a back spine, and the hedgehog nose, since I had never realized she has the same kind of nose as Tails or Cream

Shadow

Shadow wears eye makeup. He puts it on every morning. For a while he had to have help with it (from both Rouge and Amy), but eventually figured out how to do it himself

He has yellow sclera due to the Black Arms blood. Similarly, he has a longer tail than most Mobian hedgehogs, and he cannot retract his fangs. His blood is green

He has some less favorable urges. Mostly related to the whole "Black Arms feed on living creatures" things, but they don't crop up often

He and Rouge have matching earrings

Rouge

I based her design off of Sonic Prime because I honestly prefer that design more. One because she looks like an actual spy, and two because it's based on her Sonic Heroes design. Similarly, she has Prim's hair tuft

Gave her the bat nose a lot of people do because I like the way it looks

I don't have a lot of thoughts about Rouge as of right now I am so sorry.

She and Shadow have matching earrings

Silver

Silver has a lot more scrapes and burns from his future, even though it's been fixed several times

He is displaced from time. He doesn't feel connected to his current future, especially since in our lore he is one of the few people to remember Sonic 06 (it's because in our lore, Timeline B Silver got his powers from Mephiles, in the sense that those time powers had to go SOMEWHERE after the timeline reset.)

I am going to be designing a weird messed up form for Silver (like Werehog or Doom Morph for Sonic and Shadow) based probably on Mephiles to some extent

Blaze

Like Silver, she has remnants of powers from the previous timeline. She already had fire powers in Timeline A, but she has much stronger ones now, as she still has Iblis inside of her, although the powers are no longer destructive, as they were never provoked

Her dimension is actually a result of Solaris ceasing to exist. That power still existed and had to go somewhere, so it ended up resulting in the Sol Dimension.

[jeonscatalyst]

oh!

https://x.com/ChicknBunny13/status/1837421144309194972

I got this ask hours ago and wanted to get my thoughts right before I posted it because for some reason I didn’t know Jungkook said this. I guess it probably wasn’t translated by most translation accounts so that’s why I missed it.

So for years, Jimin and Jungkook’s bond has been attacked by so many people because of the way they constantly tease, and banter and bicker with each other. To so many it meant that they hated each other, or they were just bros you know, because “that is how siblings behave” but now we see that Jungkook grew up watching his parents constantly tease and bicker and playfully roast each other and he saw that as them showing their love for each other or keeping things fun in the relationship. That is what he knows love is. That is the way he grew up believing couples behaved. They always say the way kids grow up watching their parents behave is how they try to be with their own partners because that is all they know and this is what Jungkook said so many years ago after Jimin got frustrated at him for always teasing……

It really doesn’t get any clearer than this. You see to Jungkook, he knows that his parents show their love for each other by playfully picking on each other or roasting each other. He doesn’t see it as hate or anything negative but as love and this explains so much about how him and Jimin behave with each other. Someone sent me an ask once about this and I explained that romantic relationship don’t have a set dynamic. Yes there are some characteristics of romantic relationships that are pretty much universal but these things usually depend on alot. So many people think that couples are always extra soft with each other, or don’t bicker or roast each other forgetting that people are just different. I had always known that Jimin and Jungkook probably found it fun to constantly tease each other to get a reaction but coming to find out now that Jungkook probably grew up seeing his parents like this and knowing that they bicker because they love each other is definitely something.

Just for more context this happened on one of his station head Lives where he mentioned that his mother’s cooking was really bland and that his dad sat by him complaining about how bland the food was and how his parents got into bickering about it but he (Jungkook) ate it well because it was his precious mom’s cooking.

You see, this is why it is important to not box things together. This is why it is important to try to understand context before drawing certain conclusions. This is why it is important not to look at every aspect of life as a one size fits all because I can bet good money that more than 3/4 of this fandom doesn’t know Jk ever said this but this single statement changes the way you view alot of things about his dynamic with Jimin. You know that dynamic that many people claim is sibling coded because of the constant teasing and banter but now we know how he feels about that kind of a dynamic in general.

Next time someone tries to make you feel like Jimin and Jungkook could never be in a romantic relationship because of how they banter or how they “push and shove” each other, kindly show them this.

Thanks anon for sending this to me and thanks @chicknbunny13 for this post on X because even I didn’t know Jungkook said this.

[luunamoona]

how can people still be like "trobed doesn't make sense they're both straight" when like there is so much of evidence on the contrary. for one, troy and abed do not act like just friends. annie confirms they hold hands in season one, troy leaves a date with a woman he likes because she didn't like abed in season 2, they literally move in together and sleep in the same room in season 3, when they switch in season 4, the first thing they both do is look at each other's dicks and in season 5, abed's mind is set on fire by the prospect of troy leaving. abed only cries twice in the show, once in season 3 at the end of the first chang dynasty and once in season 6 at the end of emotional consequences of broadcast television. both of these were about troy leaving. in season 3, it was when troy left for the air conditioning repair school. in season 6 it was him reminiscing about troy and his departure in geothermal escapism. they always had a very deep emotional bond.

next, there's the argument that troy and abed are straight. and like what do you mean? troy has clearly shown his attraction to clive owens throughout the show, saying in virtual systems analysis (or abed playing as troy and using things that troy has said to him (still counts)) that he may as well be attracted to him and saying that he has a tumblr blog dedicated to him in the repilot. and then there's abed. i mean first we got the mixology certification, where he kept talking to a dude he knew was flirting with him for like a really long time, thought did ultimately decline when he requested they have sex. then there's the bisexual hoodie. like c'mon. literally wore a hoodie that had the bisexual flag on it for most of season 3.

troy and abed were for sure gay.

[xthejazzdalorianx]

Chapter Two ~ Against The Odds

pairing(s): logan (the wolverine) howlett x non-mutant!f!reader, uncle!wade (deadpool) wilson x non-mutant!f!reader, grandma!althea x non-mutant!f!reader

warning(s): explicit, minors do not interact! SMUT SMUT SMUT, plot with porn, yearning, needy, fluff, p in v sex, oral sex, sexual tension, wholesome, family, baby fever (to me because i want a baby lol), wade being a girl dad???

a/n: hello, this is a continuation of Chapter One ~ Fragile. i honestly don’t know how many chapters this will be, but i am very excited to release this one. it is a much longer read, but it is literally wade being such a girl dad. in a way, having wade and althea live with the reader and her daughter really teaches them to be better in a sense. either way, i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i did! let me know if there are any errors. :) <3

word count: 6.1k

- - - - - - -

summary: in this chapter, the bond between mara and you, as her mother, deepens as you navigate life after logan. with wade as a vital support, you enjoy a day at the park, where mara’s innocent questions about her father lead to heartfelt discussions on love and family. your emotional journey toward accepting love reemerges through your growing feelings for wade, highlighting themes of healing, family connection, and the complexities of moving on.

- - - - - - -

It had been a couple of years since your beloved daughter, Mara Howlett, was born. She showed her intelligence by imitating her first words, which weren't "mama" but "Uncle Wade." It was a heartwarming moment. Mara and Wade were already playing together and running around the house, engaging in games of hide-and-seek. Every morning, they cooked breakfast together and brought it to you in bed.

Uncle Wade had always been there for support, and even Grandma Althea, who was blind, pitched in financially as much as she could. To help with expenses and ensure that your little one had everything she needed, you took on a job at the nearby grocery store. As you worked long hours stocking shelves and checking out customers, your mind was always consumed with thoughts of your precious daughter and how grateful you were to have her in your life.

She was your light, your reason for pushing through the exhaustion and tedium. Every time you felt your eyelids growing heavy or your feet aching from hours of standing, you pictured her smile, her tiny hand in yours. You imagined the moment you'd walk through the door and she'd come running, arms outstretched, shouting "Mommy!" with unbridled joy.

During your short breaks, you'd sneak a peek at the photos on your phone - her first steps and the two of you with Wade at the beach last weekend. They never failed to bring a smile to your face, even on the toughest days.

As you restocked cans of soup and boxes of cereal, you made mental notes of items she might like for her lunchbox. When ringing up customers, you'd spot a toy or book she'd love, setting aside a mental reminder to pick it up later. Every decision, every action, seemed to revolve around her now.

The store's bell chimed, and you glanced up to see Mrs. Henderson shuffling in, her weathered hands gripping her walker. You smiled, already reaching for her usual items before she made it to the counter.

"How's that daughter of yours?" she asked, her eyes twinkling behind thick glasses.

"Growing like a weed," you replied, your chest swelling with pride. "She starts kindergarten week."

Mrs. Henderson clucked her tongue. "My, how time flies. Seems like just yesterday you were telling me she'd been born."

As you bagged her groceries, your mind wandered to the little girl waiting for you at home. You imagined her curled up on the couch, engrossed in her favorite cartoon, and holding her favorite stuffed unicorn.

It was moments like these that made life feel simple and complete again. But then those thoughts would be interrupted by memories of Logan, the father of your child. Mara's blue eyes and black hair were a constant reminder of him, even though he wasn't there with you.

Some nights, the pain would become too much and you would wake up crying, only to have Wade embrace you until you fell back asleep. He had been so supportive and present lately...but did that mean you were falling for him? Could you actually love someone else after everything Logan put you through? It didn't seem fair to Wade, but then again, he wouldn't hurt you. Maybe you can talk to him about it when you get home.

"All done, Mrs. Henderson," you say, handing her the bags. "Have a great day."

As she shuffles out, you glance at the clock. Your shift is almost over. Just a few more customers and you can head home to Mara, Wade, and Althea.

The next person in line steps forward, and you force a smile. But your mind is elsewhere, grappling with the swirl of emotions that have become your constant companions.

Later, as you drive home, you rehearse what you might say to Wade. The words tumble around in your head, never quite falling into place. How do you explain the tangle of grief, gratitude, and budding affection?

- - - - - - -

As you drive into the parking structure of your apartment complex, you park and make your way up the stairs to your shared apartment. The sound of laughter greets you as you approach the door. You smile, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort. You quickly grab your keys and unlock the door.

You enter the room and witness him playing with Mara. Her laughter echoes throughout the space as she rides on his back, her hair flowing behind her. Your heart feels full as you watch them, overwhelmed with love.

"Mommy!" Mara squeals, spotting you in the doorway. She scrambles off Wade's back and runs toward you, her little arms outstretched. You scoop her up, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling the softness of her cheek against yours.

"Hey, sweetheart," you murmur, holding her close. "Did you have a good day with Uncle Wade?"

She nods enthusiastically. "We made a fort and had a tea party with Mr. Unicorn!"

Wade stands up, brushing off his knees. His smile is warm, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes. Concern? Uncertainty?

“Hey there, welcome home!” he says, sauntering over with the enthusiasm of a kid who’s just seen their favorite movie. “How was the grind today? Did you dodge any major disasters, or was it more of a ‘stuck in traffic’ kind of day? Either way, I’m here to make it all better—snacks and terrible jokes included.”

You set Mara down, and she immediately tugs on your hand. "Mommy, come see our fort!"

You follow Mara to the living room, where an impressive structure of blankets and pillows dominates the space. "Wow, sweetie, this is amazing!" you exclaim, crouching down to peek inside.

"Uncle Wade helped me build it," Mara says proudly. "We even have a secret password to get in!"

As you admire the fort, you feel Wade's presence behind you. His hand briefly touches your shoulder, a gesture of support that sends a small shiver through you.

He gently comments, “You look like you’ve been wrestling with a bear and lost. How about you kick back and let me whip up some dinner? I promise not to set the kitchen on fire this time.”

You turn to face him, your initial reaction is to chuckle but then you feel a pull on your heartstrings. You are taken aback by the sincerity in his eyes. These moments leave you feeling torn and wistful. "Thank you, Wade. That would be wonderful."

- - - - - - -

As Wade heads to the kitchen, you settle into the fort with Mara, listening intently as she recounts her day's adventures. The soft glow of fairy lights strung inside the blanket structure casts a warm, comforting light on her animated face. You can't help but marvel at her boundless energy and imagination.

"And then, Mommy, Uncle Wade pretended to be a dragon, and I had to save Mr. Unicorn from his evil clutches!" Mara giggles, hugging her stuffed unicorn tightly.

You smile, running your fingers through her silky black hair. "That sounds like quite the adventure, sweetheart. Was Uncle Wade a scary dragon?"

Mara shakes her head emphatically. "No, he was a silly dragon. He kept making funny faces and tripping over his own tail!"

The sound of pots clanging in the kitchen momentarily distracts you both. Mara's eyes widen with excitement.

"Ooh, I think Uncle Wade is making his special pancakes!" she exclaims, bouncing on her knees.

A chuckle escapes your lips, as you recall Wade's infamous "special pancakes" that are always loaded with an excessive amount of chocolate chips and whipped cream. "Maybe you're onto something. But at this time of night? I suppose... we should lend him a hand?"

Mara shakes her head vigorously, her pigtails swinging. "No, no! We have to stay here and protect the fort from the tickle monster!"

"The tickle monster?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes!" Mara nods seriously. "Uncle Wade said the tickle monster comes out when little girls don't eat all their vegetables. But I ate all my broccoli at lunch, so I'll protect you from the tickle monster!"

You can't help but laugh at her earnest declaration. "Well, I'm glad I have such a brave protector. But maybe we should check on Uncle Wade, just to make sure he's not burning down the kitchen?"

Mara considers this for a moment, then nods. "Okay, but we have to be really quiet so the tickle monster doesn't hear us!"

Hand in hand, you and Mara tiptoe out of the fort and towards the kitchen. The smell of butter and vanilla wafts through the air, confirming your suspicions about the pancakes.

As you round the corner, you see Wade at the stove, his back to you. He's wearing an apron that says "I’m Not Actually a Cook, I Just Play One in the Kitchen" and humming off-key to himself as he flips a pancake with impressive flair.

Mara giggles, alerting Wade to your presence. He spins around, spatula in hand, a comically exaggerated look of surprise on his face.

"Well, well, well! What do we have here? A couple of fort-dwellers venturing out into the wild?" he says, grinning. "I hope you're ready for the breakfast-for-dinner showdown of the century! Spoiler alert: it’s going to be epic."

Mara runs up to him, bouncing on her toes. "Are you making your special pancakes, Uncle Wade?"

"You bet I am, munchkin!" Wade ruffles her hair. "And I've got a super secret ingredient this time. Want to know what it is?"

Mara nods eagerly, and Wade leans down to whisper dramatically in her ear. Her eyes widen, and she lets out a delighted gasp.

Rainbow sprinkles!" Mara exclaims, clapping her hands with glee. "Can I help put them on, Uncle Wade? Please?"

Wade pretends to consider it, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I don't know. Sprinkling rainbows is a very important job. Do you think you're up for the challenge?"

"Yes, yes!" Mara bounces on her toes, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Alright then, my little sous chef," Wade says, lifting her up to sit on the counter. "But remember, with great power comes great responsibility. And also a lot of colorful mess."

- - - - - - -

You lean against the wall, watching as Wade guides Mara's hand, showing her how to sprinkle just the right amount of rainbow bits onto each pancake. The sight of them together, laughing and working in tandem, makes your heart swell with a mix of emotions you can't quite name.

"Hey, don't just stand there looking pretty," Wade calls out to you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Come join the pancake party!”

You push off from the wall, shaking your head with a smile. "Someone's got to be the responsible adult here," you tease, but you move closer anyway.

"Responsible? In this kitchen? I don't think so," Wade quips, flipping another pancake with unnecessary flair. "We left responsible at the door, along with our dignity and our fear of sugar crashes."

As you approach the stove, the warmth from the griddle and the sweet aroma of pancakes envelop you. Wade hands you a spatula with a flourish.

"Your turn, chef," he says with a wink. "Show us how it's done."

You take the spatula, your fingers brushing against his for a moment. The touch sends a small jolt through you, and you quickly focus on the task at hand.

"Alright, let's see if I remember how to do this," you say, positioning yourself in front of the stove.

As you pour the batter onto the hot surface, Mara cheers from her perch on the counter. "Go, Mommy! Make it a unicorn shape!"

You laugh, attempting to form the batter into something vaguely unicorn-like. "I'm not sure if this is a unicorn or a blob with a horn, but we'll call it artistic license," you say, chuckling as you watch the misshapen pancake sizzle.

Wade leans in, his shoulder brushing against yours as he inspects your creation. "I'd say it's more of an abstract expressionist unicorn. Very avant-garde."

His closeness makes your heart skip a beat, and you fumble slightly with the spatula. Wade's hand quickly covers yours, steadying your grip.

"Careful there," he says softly, his breath warm against your ear. "We don't want any pancake casualties."

You turn your head slightly, suddenly aware of how close his face is to yours. For a moment, time seems to stand still, the kitchen fading away except for his eyes, warm and full of an emotion you're afraid to name.

"Mommy, it's bubbling!" Mara's excited voice breaks the moment. You blink, coming back to reality, and quickly flip the pancake.

"Nice save," Wade says, stepping back with a small smile. "I think you've got the hang of it now."

You nod, unable to find your voice for a moment. The pancake sizzles on the griddle, filling the silence.

"Can I put sprinkles on this one too, Uncle Wade?" Mara asks, oblivious to the tension in the air.

"Of course, kiddo," Wade replies, his voice cheerful as he hands her the sprinkle shaker. "Just remember, a little goes a long way."

As Mara carefully sprinkles the rainbow bits onto the cooking pancake, you steal a glance at Wade. He's watching Mara with a soft expression, his eyes crinkled at the corners with genuine affection. The sight makes your heart ache in a way you can't quite define.

As the evening progresses, the kitchen fills with laughter and the sweet aroma of pancakes. Mara's excitement is contagious, and soon you find yourself relaxing, the stress of the workday melting away. Wade keeps the mood light with his jokes and silly antics, but you catch him watching you with a soft, thoughtful expression when he thinks you're not looking.

- - - - - - -

After dinner, as you're helping Mara get ready for bed, she asks, "Mommy, can Uncle Wade read me a bedtime story tonight?"

You hesitate for a moment, feeling a mix of emotions. "Sure, sweetie," you finally say. "If Uncle Wade doesn't mind."

Wade, who's been cleaning up in the kitchen, pops his head into the room. "Did someone say bedtime story? I thought I heard my cue. What'll it be tonight, munchkin? 'The Princess and the Pea' or 'Wade's Totally Awesome and Definitely True Adventures'?"

Mara giggles, snuggling deeper into her blankets. "The Wade story! Please, please!"

You can't help but smile as Wade dramatically clears his throat and settles into the chair beside Mara's bed. "Alright, gather 'round, young padawan. Let me tell you about the time I saved the entire world from an invasion of sentient, evil broccoli..."

As Wade launches into his fantastical tale, complete with silly voices and exaggerated gestures, you lean against the doorframe, watching. The sight of them together fills you with a bittersweet warmth. Mara's eyes are wide with wonder, hanging on Wade's every word, and Wade is fully immersed in his storytelling, his face animated and full of joy.

You can't help but think of Logan, wondering if he would have been this way with Mara. The thought sends a familiar pang through your chest, but it's dulled now, softened by the scene before you.

As Wade's story reaches its climax, with him dramatically reenacting a showdown between himself and the Broccoli King, Mara's giggles turn into yawns. Her eyelids start to droop, even as she fights to stay awake.

"And so," Wade says, his voice softening as he notices Mara's drooping eyelids, "the day was saved, the evil broccoli was turned into a delicious soup, and everyone lived happily ever after. The end."

Mara yawns widely, snuggling deeper into her blankets. "That was a good story, Uncle Wade," she murmurs sleepily.

Wade leans down and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Sweet dreams, munchkin. Don't let the bed bugs bite - or the sentient broccoli."

As Wade stands up, you move to Mara's bedside, tucking her in and giving her a goodnight kiss. "I love you, sweetheart," you whisper.

"Love you too, Mommy," Mara replies, her eyes already closed.

- - - - - - -

You and Wade quietly exit the room, gently closing the door behind you. The sudden silence in the hallway feels heavy with unspoken words. You both linger for a moment, unsure of what to say or do next.

Wade breaks the silence first, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "She's really something special, isn't she?"

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "She is. I don't know what I'd do without her."

There's a pause, and then Wade says, "Or without you. You're an amazing mom, you know that?"

His words catch you off guard, and you look up at him. In the dim light of the hallway, his eyes are warm and sincere. You feel a flutter in your chest, a mixture of gratitude and something else you're not quite ready to name.

"I couldn't do it without your help," you admit, your voice soft. "You've been... incredible, Wade. With Mara, with everything."

Wade's expression softens, a hint of vulnerability showing through his usual jovial demeanor. "Hey, that's what family's for, right?" he says, gently nudging your shoulder with his. "Even if we're a bit of an unconventional one."

You both chuckle quietly, mindful of Mara sleeping nearby. As the laughter fades, a comfortable silence settles between you. You find yourself studying Wade's face, noticing the tiny laugh lines around his eyes, the way his lips curl up slightly even when he's not smiling.

"Listen," Wade begins, his tone more serious than usual. "I know things haven't been easy for you, with Logan and everything. And I don't want to complicate things or make you feel pressured in any way. But I just want you to know that I'm here. For you, for Mara, for whatever you need."

His words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Your heart races as you process what he's saying - and what he's not saying.

"Wade, I..." you start, but the words catch in your throat. How do you express the tangle of emotions you're feeling? The gratitude, the affection, the fear of letting someone in again.

Wade takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. "You don't have to say anything," he says softly. "I just wanted you to know. Whatever happens, whatever you decide, I'm not going anywhere."

As you look up into Wade's eyes, you can see the sincerity and the hunger there. Without thinking, you lean forward, and your lips meet his for the first time. They're soft, warm, and inviting. A spark ignites between you, unfamiliar but thrilling. Wade's hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your jawline gently.

"Well, hello there, beautiful," he whispers, his voice low and husky. His breath tickles your lips, sending shivers down your spine.

- - - - - - -

Without breaking the kiss, you both make your way towards the living room couch, your lips locked in a heated kiss. The soft fabric of the couch cushions your bodies as you collapse onto it, your hands roaming over each other's bodies with increasing urgency.

Wade's hand travels up your shirt, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your waist. He groans as he feels the smoothness of your skin, whispers hotly in your ear, "Fuck, you're so soft... Logan doesn't know what he's missing out on."

You smile against his lips, feeling a thrill at the mention of Logan's name. Wade's rough hands feel even better against your skin now, as if you're sharing a deliciously dirty secret. You tug at the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head to reveal his muscular chest. The sight of his defined abs and pecs makes you feel weak in the knees.

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your neck, and you feel a jolt of pleasure shoot through you. "You taste so fucking good," he growls, his teeth grazing your skin.

You moan softly, tilting your head back to give him better access. Your hands explore his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath your fingertips. You can feel his heart pounding against your palm.

Wade's hand travels up your thigh, his fingers teasing the edge of your panties. You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs, and you squirm beneath his touch.

He groans as he feels how wet you are. "Fuck, you're so ready for me," he murmurs, his voice thick with need.

You nod, biting your lower lip. "I need you, Wade," you whisper, your voice shaky with desire.

He doesn't need any further encouragement. He tugs at the hem of your panties, sliding them down your thighs to reveal your wet and swollen folds. He takes a moment to admire the sight before lowering his head to lavish attention on your clit.

You cry out as his warm tongue circles your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. He groans as he tastes your sweetness, his tongue darting in and out of your folds.

Meanwhile, your hand travels down his body, finding the hard length of his cock straining against his boxers. You stroke him gently, feeling him throb beneath your touch.

Wade groans as you touch him, his hips bucking involuntarily. You can feel him growing even harder in your hand.

He slides his boxers down his hips, revealing his thick and throbbing cock. You can't help but stare at it, mesmerized by its size and power.

Wade smirks as he sees the look of desire in your eyes. "Like what you see?" he asks, his voice teasing.

You nod, biting your lower lip. "It's so big," you whisper, your voice full of awe.

Wade chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. "And it's all yours," he murmurs.

He positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his cock. You moan as you feel it slide against your wet folds.

"Please, Wade," you beg, your voice needy and desperate.

He doesn't make you wait any longer. He slowly slides inside you, filling you up completely. You gasp at the sensation of being stretched and filled, your walls clenching around him.

Wade groans as he feels your tightness, his hips bucking involuntarily. He starts to move, thrusting into you with long, slow strokes.

You moan as the pleasure builds, your nails digging into his back. Wade leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as he moves inside you.

He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs it gently, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

"Come for me, baby," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

You do as he says, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Your body shakes and trembles as you cry out quietly, your nails digging deeper into his back.

Wade soon follows, pulling out quickly as his orgasm shudders through him. He came onto your stomach.

You lay there for a moment, catching your breath. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "That was amazing," he whispers, his voice filled with wonder.

You nod, smiling up at him. "Yeah, it was," you agree.

As the evening light fades, you and Wade reluctantly rise from the plush couch, but let's be real—who can resist that level of comfort? You both find yourselves sinking back into those soft cushions like two marshmallows in hot chocolate. Wade grabs the throw blanket that’s been carelessly flung over the armrest like it was a battle flag and drapes it over you, creating a cozy fortress of solitude as you snuggle in.

- - - - - - -

The following morning, you wake up abruptly as a soft tickle dances across your nose. The bright light shining down on you reveals Mara's adorable face, radiating sunshine and mischief. You can't help but smile back at her. With delicate fingers, she nudges Wade's hand, which is resting comfortably on your hip, startling him awake with wide eyes. "Thor! I thought we were battling frost giants!" he exclaims before realizing the situation. You roll your eyes and laugh.

Your bodies are feeling the effects of last night's activities - as if you just survived a zombie apocalypse, but in a much more enjoyable way. Just then, Mara interrupts your thoughts with an insistent voice, "Hungry, mommy!" She toddles over, clutching onto Mr. Unicorn for dear life, her wild hair tousled in the cutest way possible. She's like a miniature whirlwind of adorableness.

You stretch out your limbs like a cat, each muscle protesting slightly before swinging your legs over the side of the couch.

"Alright, sweetie, let's get some breakfast," you say, scooping Mara up into your arms. She giggles as you plant a kiss on her cheek.

Wade sits up, running a hand through his messy hair. "I vote for pancakes. Again. Is it possible to overdose on pancakes? Asking for a friend."

You laugh, shaking your head. "I think we've had enough pancakes for a while. How about some eggs and toast?"

"Eggs!" Mara cheers, bouncing in your arms. "Can I help crack them?"

"Sure thing, munchkin," Wade says, standing up and stretching. "Just try not to recreate the Great Egg Disaster of last Tuesday, okay?"

As you head to the kitchen, Mara chattering excitedly about her plans to become a world-famous egg cracker, you can't help but steal glances at Wade. He catches your eye and gives you a warm smile that makes your heart flutter. There's an unspoken understanding between you now, a shift in your relationship that both excites and terrifies you.

- - - - - - -

In the kitchen, you set Mara on a stool at the counter while Wade retrieves the eggs from the fridge. As you gather the other ingredients, you feel Wade's hand brush against your lower back as he passes behind you. The touch, though brief, sends a shiver through you.

"Alright, Chef Mara," Wade announces, setting a bowl in front of her. "Show us your egg-cracking skills!"

Mara's face scrunches up in concentration as she carefully taps an egg against the side of the bowl. To everyone's surprise, she manages to crack it perfectly, the yolk sliding into the bowl without a single shell.

"I did it!" Mara exclaims, her face lighting up with pride.

"Way to go, kiddo!" Wade cheers, giving her a high five. "You're a natural!"

You can't help but beam at your daughter's accomplishment. "That was perfect, sweetie," you say, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

As you whisk the eggs, Wade starts on the toast, humming a tune under his breath. The domesticity of the moment strikes you - the three of you working together to make breakfast, moving around each other with easy familiarity. It feels right in a way you hadn't expected.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Wade asks, popping bread into the toaster.

"Well, I have the day off," you reply, pouring the whisked eggs into a heated pan. "I was thinking...we could take Mara to the park. She's been begging to try out the new playground equipment they installed last week."

"Yay, park!" Mara cheers, clapping her hands excitedly.

Wade grins, his eyes lighting up. "Sounds like a plan. I'll pack us a picnic lunch. Maybe we can finally teach Mara the art of proper frisbee throwing without accidentally beaning any unsuspecting joggers this time."

You chuckle, remembering the last park incident. "Let's hope so. Mrs. Johnson from apartment 3B still gives me the stink eye in the elevator."

As you finish cooking the eggs, Wade assists by spreading butter on the toast and helping Mara set the table. Suddenly, Grandma Al emerges from her bedroom with her white cane in hand. "Did someone think of making breakfast for me as well?" The four of you settle down at the table and engage in lively conversation while enjoying your meal and sipping on coffee (or, in Mara's case, apple juice)

As you watch Wade help Mara wipe egg from her chin, you feel a surge of affection. This man, who had started as just a friend, had become so much more - to both you and Mara. The realization both thrills and terrifies you.

- - - - - - -

After breakfast, you help Mara get dressed for the park while Wade packs the picnic lunch. As you brush Mara's hair, she looks up at you with her big blue eyes - Logan's eyes - and asks, "Mommy, are we going to live with Uncle Wade and Grandma Al forever?"

The question catches you off guard, and you pause, the brush hovering mid-stroke. "Well, sweetie," you begin, choosing your words carefully, "Since it is their home, it depends. But for now, yes, we're staying here. Do you like living with Uncle Wade and Grandma Al?"

Mara nods enthusiastically. "I love it! Uncle Wade is so funny, and Grandma Al tells the best stories. But..." she hesitates, her little brow furrowing.

"But what, sweetie?" you prompt gently, resuming brushing her hair.

"But sometimes I wonder about my daddy," Mara says quietly. "The other kids at daycare talk about their daddies. Where's mine?"

Your heart clenches at her words. You've been dreading this conversation, knowing it would come eventually but hoping you'd have more time to prepare.

"Your daddy..." you begin, trying to keep your voice steady. "Your daddy had to go away for a while. But he loves you very much, even though he can't be here with us right now."

Mara looks up at you, her eyes wide and questioning. "Will he ever come back?"

You take a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill. "I don't know, sweetie. Sometimes... sometimes daddies can't come back, even if they want to. But you know what? You have so many people who love you. You have me, and Uncle Wade, and Grandma Al. We're your family, and we'll always be here for you."

Mara nods slowly, seeming to process this information. "Okay," she says finally. "But can we still talk about him sometimes? I want to know what he was like."

You smile softly, running your fingers through her hair. "Of course we can, sweetie. Anytime you want to know about your daddy, you smile softly, running your fingers through her hair. "Of course we can, sweetie. Anytime you want to know about your daddy, you just ask me, okay?"

Mara nods, seeming satisfied for now. "Okay, Mommy. Can we go to the park now?"

You smile softly, running your fingers through her hair. "Of course we can, sweetie. Anytime you want to know about your daddy, you just ask me, okay?"

Mara nods, seeming satisfied for now. "Okay, Mommy. Can we go to the park now?"

"Sure thing," you say, relief washing over you that the conversation has ended for now. "Let's go see if Uncle Wade is ready with that picnic basket."

As you and Mara emerge from the bedroom, you find Wade in the living room, struggling to close an overstuffed picnic basket. He looks up as you enter, a sheepish grin on his face.

"I may have gone a little overboard," he admits, finally managing to snap the basket shut. "But hey, you never know when we might be ambushed by a family of hungry bears, right?"

With a chuckle, you help Wade with the picnic basket, while Mara runs off to fetch her favorite frisbee. As you all leave the house, the sun is shining brightly, and there's a sense of anticipation in the air. The laughter and chatter on the way to the park is a welcome distraction from your earlier conversation.

Arriving at the park, you release Mara's hand and she dashes towards the playground, her laughter echoing in the air. Wade follows her, a playful grin on his face. You and Althea find a nice spot under a tree, laying out the picnic blanket and opening the overflowing basket. The sun is high in the sky, casting a warm glow on everything around you.

The park was alive with activity, and Mara couldn't contain her excitement as she ran from one attraction to the next. Wade was the perfect uncle, chasing after her and making sure she had the time of her life. Althea, on the other hand, was content feeding the ducks with leftover toast from breakfast. As you watch them, a warm feeling spreads through your chest.

- - - - - - -

As the day turns into evening, the exhaustion starts to catch up with everyone. Wade scoops up Mara onto his shoulders, her face lighting up as she takes another lick of her melting ice cream cone. Althea holds onto your arm as you all make your way back to the apartment.

The cool breeze brushes against your skin, providing a welcome refreshment. The sun slowly sinks in the sky as you make your way inside. You guide Althea to her room for some much-needed rest while Mara eagerly anticipates her nightly bath and bedtime routine. With everyone settled for the night, it's just you and Wade in the bathroom.

As the steam fills the room, Wade's fingers trace along the curves of your body, leaving a trail of warmth behind them. He backs you up against the sink counter, and you can feel his hard cock pressing into your hip. His mouth crashes into yours, and your tongues dance in a desperate, passionate kiss. You moan into his mouth as his fingers trail up your thigh, teasing the edge of your panties.

Wade's hands slide up your body, gripping your hips as he drops to his knees. His breath hot on your skin as he hooks his fingers into your panties, tugging them down. He takes a moment to admire your wet, swollen pussy before diving in, his tongue lapping up your juices. You grip the counter for support as his tongue circles your clit, his hands gripping your ass to pull you closer.

"Fuck, baby, you taste so good," Wade growls, his voice low and husky. He sucks on your clit, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You cry out, your hips bucking against his face as he adds a finger, sliding it into your slick folds. He curls it upwards, hitting your g-spot with each stroke.

Your orgasm crashes over you unexpectedly, and you cling to him as the waves of pleasure wash over you. Wade pulls back slightly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he tugs off his boxers, revealing his hard, throbbing cock.

He lifts you up onto the counter, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he lines himself up with your entrance. He teases the head of his cock against your clit, making you writhe with need before plunging into you in one swift motion.

The feeling of him inside you is almost too much to bear, and you grip his shoulders as he thrusts into you, his movements strong and steady. Your moans fill the steamy bathroom as he takes you harder and faster, his fingers digging into your hips.

"You like that, baby?" he asks, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Fuck yes," you gasp, your nails leaving marks on his skin. He chuckles and leans in to capture your mouth in another searing kiss. Wade's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts deep inside you, each stroke hitting that sweet spot that sends shivers down your spine.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna come," he growls, his voice low and rough with desire. He pulls out of you, his cock still throbbing and slick with your juices. His hand wraps around his shaft, pumping it a few times as he leans in to press a hard kiss to your lips.

With a final groan, he pulls back and you watch in fascination as ropes of cum erupt from his cock, landing in hot streaks on your stomach. You can feel the warmth of it against your skin, and it sends a thrill through your body.

"Fuck, that was intense," Wade pants, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He leans in to trail kisses down your neck and across your collarbone, his hands roaming over your body.

"Mmm, yes it was," you moan, your own desire still pulsing through you. You reach down to run your fingers through the sticky mess on your stomach, then bring them to your lips, tasting the salty tang of his cum.

Wade groans at the sight, his cock twitching with renewed interest. "You're so fucking sexy," he growls, his hands sliding down to cup your ass and pull you closer. You can feel his hardness pressing against you, and it makes you ache for more.

The two of you continue to kiss passionately as he lifts you up from the counter. Your legs remain wrapped around his waist, while your arms drape over his neck as he carries you into the shower. The warm water washes away any thoughts of Logan, leaving behind only lingering sensations from a night of intense passion and pleasure. Your body still tingles with delight under the cascade of water, and you can't help but smile at the memory of Wade's skilled fingers playing your body like a finely-tuned instrument.

- - - - - - -

glossary: n/a

[animementrash]

Defense Force members and how they act as boyfriends.

Characters: Soshiro Hoshina, Gen Narumi, Hibino Kafka, Reno Ichikawa Tags: Headcannons, some may be ooc?, fluff, probably crack. A/N: I've been writing so much Levi stuff (and there's more in the queue ngl) so I wanted to do a quick refresh and write some HCs of these lovely men. I really enjoyed Kaiju no.8 and think it's such a cool show. 10/10 reccomend watching it. (Just don't read the manga unless you want to suffer).

Soshiro Hoshina

A very laid-back kind of partner, has nothing against PDA but is very rare for him to be over affectionate in public.

Loves to hear you talk, his favorite type of date is a coffee date where he can have a warm drink and listen to you speak for hours.

Will gift you books and randomly quiz you about them, if you didn’t like the book, he’ll take a mental note and avoid gifting you anything about that genre for a while.

His love language is physical touch, he definitely has to be touching you in some way all the time. Whether is holding your hand, playing with your hair or even pinching your cheeks.

Loves to bully you and tease you, has many nicknames and pet names for you.

Gen Narumi

Needs your attention ALL THE TIME. Gets really whiny if you don’t pay attention to him.

Loves to nap with you, he’s always down for some cuddles or just lay in bed with you.

Gets quite competitive if you play videogames with him, will let you win if you offer to pepper his face with kisses though.

His love language is gift giving, will spoil you rotten with gifts and trinkets he finds online and thinks you’d like.

Pretends to hate when you offer to do his skincare but is secretly so happy that you’re pampering like that.

Posts your photos in all his social media accounts and makes sure people knows who you are.

Hibino Kafka

A very loving and sweet partner, will always have time for you no matter how tired he is.

Will listen to you ramble as much as you need, if you want advice, he’ll do his best to give you some, if you just want to complain then he’ll happily listen.

Loves to bond with you over food, he’s a pretty good cook and loves to make you new dishes and have stay-at-home dates.

He’s your #1 fan and supporter, is always cheering you on and making sure you feel happy.

Loves to tell you dad jokes.

Reno Ichikawa

The sweetest boyfriend, very perceptive to your likes and needs.

Loves to hold your hand and usually plays with your fingers when holding it.

If you’re also part of the defense force, he’ll train with you as much as you want. Doesn’t go easy on you but is also hyper aware of his movements and tries his best to not hurt you.

Is constantly creating music playlists for you to listen to; They can range from sweet and romantic to weird ass music he likes and wants your opinion of.

Also loves stay-at-home dates where he gets the chance to cook for you.