#for real though I was amazed by you even as kids

[darnell-la]

𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥 ... 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗔𝗪𝗔𝗬

pairing: dark!pervy!professor!logan howlett x student!reader

summary: the job of a mentor shouldn’t be hard, but for Logan Howlett, it was when one of his best students wasn’t so innocent after all. professors are trained to hold themselves, but something within Logan wanted to release all out on that so-called innocent student.

warnings: Logan is a slight perv, nudes, anal, forced anal, rough sex, age gap, overpowering, degrading, jealousy, anger, cnc/SA, etc.

note: many of our supporters are asking for out-of-pocket Logan Howlett, and it’s so hard finding ways to write him in that way. REQUEST!

DO NOT READ IF CNC/SA MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

———

There has been a situation going on around the school. Some kids have made a hook-up app for mutants around the school. The professor found out after having to confiscate a student's phone for texting during class.

Professor Howlett has been investing, and trying to get several student's names to call the office and shut the app down.

By doing that, he used the student phone he had to take during class. Sadly, that student wasn’t a student people wanted to hook up with, or even go on a date with. Logan had no luck until a few minutes ago when an anonymous student messaged him.

“Hey, I know it’s hard to find people on here, but I was thinking we could maybe hang out?”

Logan couldn't stop laughing to himself, happy that he could put this shenanigan situation to the side until several attachments popped up on the phone.

At first, he didn’t think of anything, but as soon as he tapped on them to reveal what was sent, his jaw dropped.

The student was y/n, and the attachments she sent were something he would’ve never thought of her doing. Half of what was sent were videos while the rest was her masturbating with toys.

A specific one had stood out to him, which made him feel like the biggest creep there could be, but he couldn’t stop watching.

She had laid on her back so when she spread her legs, everything was exposed. She rubbed so much lube onto herself, that he was confused until she pulled a dildo out and pushed it against her back door.

The way she moaned, made him lost in the video. He hadn’t even known the video was five minutes long. He could tell she could barely take it up her ass, but the way she struggled and still tried was amazing. Especially when she finished all over the place.

“I’ve never done anal, so I’m afraid that’s off-limits. Anything else is completely fine though!”

Logan looked at her message, still thinking if that was all real. Was that really y/n? If this was anyone else, he would’ve called a school meeting in seconds, no matter how late it was, but y/n — He didn’t know what took over him.

“Send room number. Be there in 5. Look pretty,”

In y/n’s head, she thought how oddly the student typed. She hadn’t been around the student to know him fully, but she knew no student typed the way he did.

“Could I perhaps have some videos of you?” Y/n asked, making Logan’s heart skip a beat. “No need, Bub. I’m real,” Logan typed, making y/n gasp. Anyone could’ve figured out who the person was behind the phone after using that word. Bub.

“Logan? What the hell are you doing on here??” Y/n asked, only making Logan’s heart drop further. “What?” Logan tried covering himself off, but that only made y/n laugh on her bed.

“It’s fine, Logan. I like older men anyway. Have you done anything like this before?” Y/n asked. Logan wanted to throw the phone and spazz on how he could’ve blown his cover this bad.

“No,” the man replied, not knowing his cock had grown hard at the thought of y/n still wanting to proceed with the conversation. “Just come up to room 411,” Y/n said before going offline.

Logan had thought this would be easy to deal with since y/n never seemed like a student to blackmail people, but something ran through his head as he got up from his office chair.

How many people has she done this with? That thought alone boiled his blood. He had thought y/n was innocent, and one of the good students. She lied to him, telling him a few months ago that all she cared about was her training and education.

Y/n had fallen asleep after the first hour of Logan not showing up. She had thought he had maybe backed out, and she was fine with that.

Little did she know, Logan had been keeping himself back for the past hour. Everyone in this school is still training, even the professors, and though they can usually control themselves, this was a small situation that turned big.

Logan was mentally and physically going insane, wanting to teach a student he had trust in, a lesson for lying and doing this that wouldn’t help her training and education in the future.

He held himself back for as long as he could, but now he was walking through y/n’s bedroom door. Y/n had woken up from her sleep after hearing her bedroom door close and lock.

“Oh, hey! — I wasn’t expecting you. I thought you might’ve changed your mind,” y/n said as Logan basically ripped off his clothes until he was exposed. Y/n’s eyes widened at his huge and throbbing size.

“Where’s the lube?” Logan growled as he stared y/n’s figure down. She had fallen asleep in the little bit of clothing she wanted to surprise him in. “Uh, the desk right here, but, I’m not really into anal,” y/n assured for the second time tonight.

Logan ignored her and went through the desk she had pointed out to him. “On your stomach — Edge of the bed,” Logan said. He had barely given her time to move before he put her into the position himself.

“Sir, just my pussy, okay? I-I didn’t really prepare for anal tonight,” y/n said, hoping her professor would listen. Instead, Logan spread a bunch on her upper hole, and the rest he stroked his cock with.

“Okay, sir?” Y/n asked to know if he heard her. He did, but he didn’t care. Why would she tease him with that one video if she wasn’t thinking about her hole getting used tonight?

“Mr. Howlett, I said the other-“Y/n tried to get up, but Logan pushed her face into the sheets as his cock pushed through her walls, instantly feeling her grip him as tight as she could.

“Oh fuck,” Logan couldn’t believe how amazing she felt within seconds. “Mr. Howlett, please — I-It hurts a little,” y/n whined, shifting under him to feel more comfortable, but that didn’t matter as he pushed further into her until she was filled.

The scream she let out, was enough to make him leak in her already. “Be as loud as you want, Bub. Hank designed these walls for the privacy of the professors and the students — No one’s gonna hear how un-innocent you are,” Logan whispered in the young girl's ear before he leaned back up and began pounding.

The room filled with nasty noises in seconds. Logan couldn’t seem to get enough of what he was doing. It’s like something took him over once he felt the insides of y/n and the noises she could make.

“Logan, please,” y/n cried out, feeling like he would break her any second now. At first, she hated the way he didn’t listen to her, but after the first few pumps, she couldn’t get enough of it herself.

The feeling of her the Wolverine coming in her to have his way with her, degrade her, and even groan at how perfect she was, only send her gushing around his cock in seconds.

“You’re not so innocent, princess, so how about you cum on my cock again, yeah? Because this ain’t gonna be the last time I have you,”

[tarotbyjam24]

You and your future spouse's 1st valentine's day date

Likes , reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated 💗

Disclaimer: This is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so🕊️

Masterlist\pick a cards

Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄️,shall we ?

Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸

This reading a collab between @tarotbyjam24 and my girl @winisayswhat 🖤 don't forget to check her account loves

Pile 1

Pile 1 : your first valentine's day date might possibly be a 50-50 date like you couples splitting your bills or it could be like you both are always so busy so it took effort from both sides to have a valentine's day date together finally. It's gonna be a very planned and calculated date . You guys might also not show your truest self to your spouse on this date because either of you or both can have your guards up even though you're married. I also feel on this date you could also fight with eachother 😭 probably because of hiding something. I see 'hide' word is so prominent here . I wonder how you guys are so mysterious to each other . Mostly I see you guys could be trying local street foods , trying drinks here n there. Although I feel you both will be dressed perfectly for a date to bring the date date vibe . Having drinks on this could help both of you to loosen up a bit and open up to each other . This date will be a start for something new probably you could think of starting family or something else . This pile seems like both of you love eachother but also don't show it and hide it very well that you both seem to each other like enemies ✨ that's all pile 1 I hope you liked reading this pile happy valentine's day and bless you all 🎀💗

Pile 2

Pile 2 : your first valentine's day date is gonna be amazing I swear . They'll make you feel like a prince\princess . Almost worshipping you and giving all the power . I also feel your spouse will be older than you . So ofc they gonna spoil you it's natural to them and you gonna enjoy it . They'll surely take you on various activities for this date like taking some fun classes in day , eating local foods , taking you on shopping, then dinner night at a perfect place probably by river or seaside . This date will grow more love between each other . I get the vibe of ' material girl ' from this pile and I support you for this lol . You go guys . You deserve it all . Now from another perspective if we see this than your spouse could be bit more domineering in this date like those ceo and their girlfriends where ceo likes to eat at three Michelin star hotel and you enjoy your ramen and drinks but you're forced to go on the three Michelin star hotel date lol. I feel you'll act like a disciplined kid when in real you're so spoiled 🍃 and you just don't listen to anyone but you'll have to listen and follow them .that's all pile 2 I hope you liked reading this pile happy valentine's day and bless you all 🎀💗

Pile 3

Read by @winisayswhat

Okay, babes, this date is going to be mind-blowing . Like, expect some serious sparks flying, and that's just not from the table. The man or woman you're going on a date with has a provider energy. It's like a very fancy place, with a fancy setup. This person is jacked for sure. They're serious and will bring lots of stability and maturity into your life. They're the real deal, honey .The Two of Cups is all about harmony and balance. So, expect some beautiful, heartfelt connections. You'll feel fulfilled. This place feels like a rooftop restaurant with dim lights, and you're drop-dead gorgeous . You're dressed up, drop-dead gorgeous that day. Oh la la, that person is going gaga all over you! They're very chivalrous. They're going to spend all their money on you without thinking twice. You'll feel luxurious, wealthy with them This person is a provider, wild, and dressed to impress . Both of you are excited to meet each other and already know you're the "it" deal. It's like you both were meant to be together, like two puzzle pieces . You both love, value, and cherish each other. It's like you both have manifested each other. The God has led you both to each other .This person is very straightforward, and whatever they say is going to be very real. They'll be honest with you, and you'll love that about them . They're the type of person who'll have many surprises in store. If they take you out for dinner, they'll make sure there's music, a big bouquet of roses, jewelry as gifts, your favorite champagne, food, and good photos to be clicked . Oh la la, this person is also a great photographer! Your Instagram feed is sorted ! Every time this person walks into a room, people look at them and go, "Oh my God, who is that?" They drip with money and luxury 💸. This person is going to be so nurturing and caring. Expect some serious TLC from this person, honey! It's going to be wild, but guess what? This is just the beginning. The journey is much more exciting and spicy!

Pile 4

Read by @winisayswhat

This Valentine's Day date is going to be EVERYTHING and more! The energy is mutual, excited, and respectful. You both love and adore each other, and you're ready to spend quality time together.

The ambiance is romantic, probably at a favorite restaurant or spot. The air is filled with a sweet scent, and you both feel harmonious and in tune with each other. You're thinking about how lucky you are to be in this relationship!Conversation on the date is all bout goals, future plans, and excitement for what's to come. You both are magnetic, high-achieving individuals who are planning out your adrenaline-fueled life together! Eye contact is intense, and you both feel a deep sense of connection and understanding.This is a couple who will be the life of the party, so in love and into each other that they won't even notice what's going on around them! You're best friends, despite being different, and you complement each other perfectly.

Oh, and there's red velvet cake involved somehow! And maybe some red fruits or wine? Whatever it is, it's going to be a night to remember!

You'll spend the evening planning your life together, discussing kids, cars, homes, and all the adventures you'll have. And guess what? The universe is going to make it all happen!

Get ready for lots of kisses, gentle touches, and admiration from your partner. Their love language is touch, and they'll show you love and affection in the sweetest ways.

This person is going to adore you, honey! They'll be captivated by your smile, lips, eyes, and entire aura. And they'll appreciate you for the rest of your life! You will be like one of those couples from the Hollywood 90's-2000's Romcom movie aesthetic for sureeee!!!

I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀 Bless you and have a nice day 🫶🏻

Loads of love , jam\gem 🩷

Exchanges : open , collabs for pacs : open

[winisayswhat]

💗You and your future spouse's 1st valentine's day date PAC💗

Disclaimer: This is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so🕊️

This reading a collab between me and this cutie @tarotbyjam24 💗

don't forget to check her account !

Pile 1 by @tarotbyjam24

Your first valentine's day date might possibly be a 50-50 date like you couples splitting your bills or it could be like you both are always so busy so it took effort from both sides to have a valentine's day date together finally. It's gonna be a very planned and calculated date . You guys might also not show your truest self to your spouse on this date because either of you or both can have your guards up even though you're married. I also feel on this date you could also fight with eachother 😭 probably because of hiding something. I see 'hide' word is so prominent here . I wonder how you guys are so mysterious to each other . Mostly I see you guys could be trying local street foods , trying drinks here n there. Although I feel you both will be dressed perfectly for a date to bring the date date vibe . Having drinks on this could help both of you to loosen up a bit and open up to each other . This date will be a start for something new probably you could think of starting family or something else . This pile seems like both of you love eachother but also don't show it and hide it very well that you both seem to each other like enemies ✨ that's all pile 1 I hope you liked reading this pile happy valentine's day and bless you all 🎀💗

Pile 2 by @tarotbyjam24

Your first valentine's day date is gonna be amazing I swear . They'll make you feel like a prince\princess . Almost worshipping you and giving all the power . I also feel your spouse will be older than you . So ofc they gonna spoil you it's natural to them and you gonna enjoy it . They'll surely take you on various activities for this date like taking some fun classes in day , eating local foods , taking you on shopping, then dinner night at a perfect place probably by river or seaside . This date will grow more love between each other . I get the vibe of ' material girl ' from this pile and I support you for this lol . You go guys . You deserve it all . Now from another perspective if we see this than your spouse could be bit more domineering in this date like those ceo and their girlfriends where ceo likes to eat at three Michelin star hotel and you enjoy your ramen and drinks but you're forced to go on the three Michelin star hotel date lol. I feel you'll act like a disciplined kid when in real you're so spoiled 🍃 and you just don't listen to anyone but you'll have to listen and follow them .that's all pile 2 I hope you liked reading this pile happy valentine's day and bless you all 🎀💗

Pile 3

Okay, babes, this date is going to be mind-blowing . Like, expect some serious sparks flying, and that's just not from the table. The man or woman you're going on a date with has a provider energy. It's like a very fancy place, with a fancy setup. This person is jacked for sure. They're serious and will bring lots of stability and maturity into your life. They're the real deal, honey .The Two of Cups is all about harmony and balance. So, expect some beautiful, heartfelt connections. You'll feel fulfilled. This place feels like a rooftop restaurant with dim lights, and you're drop-dead gorgeous . You're dressed up, drop-dead gorgeous that day. Oh la la, that person is going gaga all over you! They're very chivalrous. They're going to spend all their money on you without thinking twice. You'll feel luxurious, wealthy with them This person is a provider, wild, and dressed to impress . Both of you are excited to meet each other and already know you're the "it" deal. It's like you both were meant to be together, like two puzzle pieces . You both love, value, and cherish each other. It's like you both have manifested each other. The God has led you both to each other .This person is very straightforward, and whatever they say is going to be very real. They'll be honest with you, and you'll love that about them . They're the type of person who'll have many surprises in store. If they take you out for dinner, they'll make sure there's music, a big bouquet of roses, jewelry as gifts, your favorite champagne, food, and good photos to be clicked . Oh la la, this person is also a great photographer! Your Instagram feed is sorted ! Every time this person walks into a room, people look at them and go, "Oh my God, who is that?" They drip with money and luxury 💸. This person is going to be so nurturing and caring. Expect some serious TLC from this person, honey! It's going to be wild, but guess what? This is just the beginning. The journey is much more exciting and spicy! Don't forget to check out my valentine's tarot sale

Pile 4

The ambiance is romantic, probably at a favorite restaurant or spot. The air is filled with a sweet scent, and you both feel harmonious and in tune with each other. You're thinking about how lucky you are to be in this relationship!Conversation on the date is all bout goals, future plans, and excitement for what's to come. You both are magnetic, high-achieving individuals who are planning out your adrenaline-fueled life together! Eye contact is intense, and you both feel a deep sense of connection and understanding.This is a couple who will be the life of the party, so in love and into each other that they won't even notice what's going on around them! You're best friends, despite being different, and you complement each other perfectly.Don't forget to check out my valentine's tarot sale

[meelusinee]

NEW NUMBER | R.L X READER

word count \ 2.0k | fluffy fluff | slash / remus lupin x reader

in which you get remus' number at the bakery he works at

NEW NUMBER | REMUS LUPIN X READER

Remus had decided he needed a job.

His friends had money. James, Sirius, Regulus, Lily. Even Peter, who wasn’t rich but wasn’t poor. 

Not like him at least.

So he decided to get a job. He didn’t think he could have a job in a Wizarding area, as much as he wanted to. It wouldn’t be safe, to say the least. 

Which led to his journey to a Muggle town. Small, just outside of Hogsmeade, with an older style surrounding the buildings. There was a lot of greenery and other calming elements, wide sidewalks and scooters for transportation.

Plus, he found a job as a baker. 

He only needed training for more advanced things. Remus had muscles big enough to carry the pounds and pounds of flour and other ingredients. And he knew recipes, which he learned when his mother tried to distract him as a kid.

It was nice. 

He had great coworkers, and a good genre of customers. A calming environment too, which helped his pain a lot better than he thought it would. He also lucked out with his boss as well, who was also a Werewolf trying to make a living. Which meant the payment could be given to him in Galleons rather than Muggle currency.

Some days, he came to the bakery even when he wasn’t called in for work. The coffee was amazing, to say the least, and the food was even better.

His job seemed to get even better when you joined the picture.

It was a rather boring day at the bakery. Remus had been assigned the front counter, he had been a real hit with the older ladies who came in most often. He didn’t exactly like it, but they sometimes gave him extra money as a tip.

He never complained about that.

He also didn’t complain about the phone calls, something that he didn’t mind at all. He liked the comfort of the barrier between him and the phone.

“Welcome to Bettie’s Bakery, how can I help?” his voice rang through the bakery. It was mostly empty at the moment, all except for the workers and whoever was on the phone right now.

“Hi!” 

Remus felt his heart pounding at the sound of your voice, mind running wild as it flitted through different lines of romantic poetry that he had read  over the years. Who was he kidding, it was one single word that you said. Just one.

“Hi there,” he said, clearing his throat. “How are you doing today?”

He smiled softly as he heard you giggling over the business phone, leaning both of his elbows on the counter as he listened to you. “I’m good.”

“Good?” he asked. “Not great?”

“I’ll get to great if you keep talking to me.” you giggled to him.

Remus felt a wider smile breaking out on his face as he heard that, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “I’ll be able to keep talking to you if you order something from the bakery.”

“Oh, yes!” you said, giggling. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard in his life, sweeter than the taste of thaumatin. “I wanted to wonder if you had this bread that I really like. My friend made this tomato bisque that tastes like spaghetti, I pair it with this special loaf you guys used to make. I don’t know if you still make it though.”

“What’d it taste like?” Remus asked, assuming that you didn’t know the name based on how you were describing the situation. 

“Uh,” you mumbled. “Kinda like a Cuban loaf. Very peelable, but it had a nice crust still. It had a special name you guys made though.”

“Like a baguette shape?” he asked.

“Mhm!” you smiled. “I always cut it in half.”

“Was it Sasha’s Slice?” he asked, looking at the different breads held in their display case. “It’s a baguette with a decently hard crust, kind of sweet.”

“Yes, that one!” you smiled. “You still have it?”

“Yea, we do.” he chuckled softly, his Welsh accent coming out a bit more than usual when he was talking to you. Maybe it was the natural comfort he felt around you, despite the fact he barely knew you. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe he was just tired, and it had nothing to do with you.

“Am I gonna see you in here?” he asked.

“If you’re there before closing.” you chuckled, the sound of your keys jingling in the background.

“I’ll be here after close.” he said, his voice a bit hoarser before he cleared it. He held the phone between his shoulder and cheek as he started to look around for things to distract himself with, writing random words on a piece of paper to look like he was doing something. “My night.”

“Well, I hope I see you!” you giggled. 

“Me too.” he smiled, sighing as he heard the sound of the phone hanging up in his ears.

“Hello there!” your voice chirpped through the bakery.

Remus looked up as soon as he heard it, like he was a dog and your voice was a dog whistle made just for his ears alone. Maybe your looks were too, a stunning beauty he doubted he could drag his eyes away from.

You were around his age, he could tell that much. Maybe a year younger, but he hoped that didn’t matter much to you. If something were to happen, that was.

“Hi.” he smiled as you walked to the counter. “Sarah’s Slice?”

You gasped dramatically, pointing a finger at him. “It’s you! Phone man!”

“Phone man?” he chuckled at the nickname, both of you bursting out into laughter at it. Indeed, you did meet through the phone, but it was still a rather funny nickname regardless. “I thought it’d be bread man at first.”

“Maybe ‘phone bread man’ then.” you said, watching as Remus bagged your bread.

“Phone bread man it is.” he said. “I’ll head to the bank soon, make sure they change my name. I’ll start with my nametag first though.”

You gasped before giggling, a wide smile on your face as you grabbed the bread. “Oh, why thank you! You make sure to add a ‘Mr’ in front of it.”

He chuckled, smiling at you. “Mr. Phone Bread Man. First, middle, last.”

“That’s the spirit!” you smiled bright.

Remus looked around the store to make sure nobody else was there before leaning forward a bit, his eyes now meeting yours as he spoke. “Do you come here often? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“Not as often as I’d like.” you whispered. “I have school, but it’s working out okay. I’m moving down here soon, a small town just North.”

He smiled softly as he heard you ramble about the lovely town your mother would be taking you too, more so captured by the way your lips moved rather than the words coming out of your mouth. Though, if anyone asked, he was sure he could recite the talk in his sleep. Word for word.

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered.

You smiled, the bag holding your bread crinkling in his hands. “It’d be more interesting with a friend to spend my time with.”

Remus looked at you with a raised eyebrow before the both of you laughed, your eyes watching as he pulled out his phone and opened the app. He had gotten it so his boss could contact him for work schedules, something he charmed to still be usable in Hogwarts. He was sure it was about to pay off in more ways than just that now.

“Thank you,” you said, voice trailing off as you looked at his nametag. “Remus.”

“Remus.” he smiled, much like a lovesick puppy might look at its owner. 

“Y/N.” you smiled gently, holding your bread filled bag up. “And thank you, really Remus.”

Remus smiled, watching as you walked out of the bakery with your phone in hand. He didn’t know what way you were going, not yet, but he was planning on learning soon. At least, he hoped.

Remus was sat in class with Sirius and James to each side of him, foot bouncing up and down as he sat in Potions class. He had already done the assignment the night before, submitting it early so he would have time to relax.

Sirius demanded help with the potion they were working on, but Remus gave up after he began to wing it much like James. Despite the fact that James had been doing Potioneering since he was a kid, Sirius decided they were on the same exact level with potion making. James definitely didn’t help.

Which led to him sitting in silence, watching the fumes of different potions and ingredients finding their way into the air.

That was, at least, until you texted him.

Y/N: hi there!!! youre remus, right?

Remus looked at the message for a bit with a small blush on his face, biting his lip as he texted a quick response. 

REMUS: Yes, Remus. Y/N?

Y/N: i can’t believe you remembered! thats so sweet :c

Remus smiled softly at that, adjusting his posture in his seat to be more comfortable. He tried to minimize himself as much as possible, which wasn’t much given he was well into 6 feet territory. 

REMUS: You are rather unforgettable.

Y/N: and you are apparently a sweetheart

Y/N: btw i made the bread and soup!! It tasted really good, and i wanted to thank you

Remus felt his phone vibrating against his hand as you texted him more about the bread and the soup, eventually offering a photo without waiting for a yes or a no. It looked delicious, he had to admit, a cheesy looking tomato bisque soaking into the bread.

Y/N: i must be rambling so much though, im so sorry! how are you doing??

Remus chuckled to himself, not having minded your ramble one bit. On the contrary, he thought it was a rather endearing tidbit about you.

REMUS: Don’t feel sorry, I enjoyed it.

REMUS: I’m okay though. Having to suffer through classes.

Y/N: you have classes???

Y/N: i didn’t mean to interrupt them or anything, im so sorry!

Y/N: ill let you get right back to it right now

Remus chuckled softly, his fingers typing a quick response. He was rather glad that he was in the back of the classroom, Professor Slughorn not able to see far back enough to notice his phone. 

REMUS: Don’t be sorry, I’m not busy. I already completed the assignment so my friends could cheat off of it.

REMUS: Besides, I like talking to you. You’re a fun distraction. 

Remus felt his shoulder being nudged as soon as her saw your spamming of heart emojis and apologies, looking up to see James and Sirius staring at him with a rather teasing look.

“What?” he asked them.

Sirius waggled his eyebrows, nudging Remus again. “Who’re you texting?

“If you don’t back off, I’m taking my homework back.” Remus said threateningly, his eyes narrowing in a way that showed he meant every single word.

“Understood Sir!” James said, going back to his potion. As much as he loved potions, he hated following the rules with them. Which meant that he loved Remus’ notes and homeworks, his ability to understand the words and make them sound even better getting him higher marks.

Sirius just hated Potions regardless, mainly out of spite. It was Snape’s favorite subject, and he tried hard not to have anything in common with the greasy-haired boy.

Suffice to say, a lack of homework was a good threat.

Remus went back to texting you almost as soon as the two looked away. Maybe even before, he wasn’t quite sure. You were like a black hole that he was falling into, with rings of gravity around you sucking him through different perceptions of time and space before crushing him completely. 

You had him utterly hooked. Something that, surprisingly, he didn’t mind the idea of.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thank you so much everyone for reading! i haven't been writing as much, but i'm hoping that, with valentine's day and the spirit of love fast approaching, i'm able to get more stuff done. i might make a small series of just text messages between some characters, though i haven't decided who yet, so feel free to comment if you want any specific character!

AS ALWAYS - please like, comment, reblog, and have a wistful day!

[esamastation]

Gamer girl gets transmigrated into a farm boy Chapter 5 [<<Prologue | <Chapter 4 || Chapter 6>>] Ao3 link

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The rest of the day goes by much the same way it did in the game. They make their way back to the farm, where Van helps Mr. Gylcross unload his purchases and carry some of them to the barn and the rest into the house. Janelle welcomes them with a warm meal and freshly made batch of apple juice, made from, "Apples I picked myself just this afternoon!" as she says. It's delicious.

"What did you buy in town?" Josel asks as they eat.

"Nothing much," Van answers, and ain't that the truth. "Mostly I just looked around, took in the sights."

Josel hums. "Yeah, you haven't been to the town a lot, have you?"

"I guess not," Van agrees, thinking back to the player character's messy background as a hand on the Gylcross farm, and how it might be revealed here - if it even was.

"How did you like it? Did you see anything interesting in town?" Janelle asks curiously.

"It was fine. It was all pretty interesting," Van admits and takes a bite of bread, wondering if she made it herself.

The System journal had updated while he'd been in town, and going by its writing, it was the most amazing thing ever to happen to Katie. Most of the journal entry was her detailing every event that happened, but there were some interesting titbits in between, which Van had noticed but not really thought about at the time.

… Oh my god, the town looks exactly like it did in the game! Only now I'm seeing it all in first person! It's so wild. There's so much more people here than there were in the game, too - probably since the limits of rendering capacity have been thrown out of the window. Real world isn't held back by RAM. Hah.

Also? Kids. There are children here - and not just one-age-fits-all like in some games, no, there's older teenagers and younger teenagers, and I also saw a toddler in the marketplace - and I think one woman had a baby in a sling? A baby! Definitely didn't have any of those in the base game - not a single kid to be had in all of Age of Tales, except in pre-rendered cutscenes. I wonder if it's just for humans, or will we get to see dwarf or elf babies - I've never seen a dwarf baby, ever, in anything I've ever seen or played. Probably not elf either, unless it was like a half-human-half-elf situation brought forth by an illicit cross-species love story.

I wonder if Van can have babies - like, conceive them? I mean, there's romance in Age of Tales, such as it is. There's sex scenes and stuff. Can those now have, like, consequences? Does this world have contraceptives? Is that something that I have to now think about?

Van with a baby would be pretty cute, though. I wonder if I can somehow get him to hold a baby…

And that's where Van had to stop reading in order to preserve the delicate equilibrium of his mental stability.

"There were a lot of people in town," he concludes with a cough to clear his throat, and takes another sip of the apple juice.

Janelle gives him a sympathetic look. "Yeah, it's a bit different from how it's around here, huh?" she says and pats him on the shoulder. "I'm glad you had fun."

"Yeah," Van agrees.

By now he's kind of starting to feel the limits of Katie's social meter, though. She'd never been a particularly extroverted person, and while it's different inside a videogame… this isn't a game, not really. It's been a whole day of interacting with people and trying to figure things out, and Van is feeling mentally kind of worn down.

Plus, he's got an existential crisis scheduled up, and it's starting to feel kind of urgent.

"You mind if I turn in for the day, sir?" Van asks once he's done eating, turning to Mr. Gylcross. "I'm kind of tired."

"Of course, my boy. Just get Bell settled in for the night and get the cart in the barn," Mr. Gylcross says.

Thankfully, Josel has apparently done all other farm-related duties off screen. All Van has left to do is get the cart inside and Bell brushed up, fed, and settled in a stall, all of which happens by automation. Josel, who's got a more permanent berth in a little hutch next to the farmhouse, bids Van good night, and with some relief Van heads up to the hayloft.

There he lays down in the hay, mentally preparing to Think About Things and Handle Them… only to find his mind full of static. He needs to deal with the Realisation and he needs to come up with a plan for tomorrow, because there's a lot coming his way tomorrow.

And yet, even though he lies there for a while, staring at the ceiling, not a single coherent plan comes to mind.

Finally, Van gets up again and goes back down to get a bucket of water. It's not quite as good as a real mirror, but in a pinch…

His reflection is very faint on the water's surface, but he can just about see himself and make out his features. The caramel ice-cream hair is really not looking its best. It's curly in the game, kind of fabulous in a way that doesn't fit Van's body type at all - here it sticks every which way, unkempt and not exactly flattering.

No permanent magical hairstyling in real life, huh.

Combing his fingers through his hair to push it away from his face, Van turns his head this way and that, taking in his features again. The jaw, the cheekbones, the forehead - he really looks like he was drawn by a comic book artist. Except made real. 

He's really - Katie is really in Van's body. This is Van, made flesh and blood. Well, he doesn't actually know if the body can bleed, but it probably does. It gets hungry and thirsty. And, judging by the feel of things right now, it also needs to relieve itself. Which is… another thing he hadn't been thinking about.

Sitting on his knees for a moment, Van weighs the oncoming mental health crisis against probably mortifying body function weirdness and chooses the latter, standing up. Time for a true fantasy adventure - figuring out how men piss.

Delightful.

Though as a man he should be able to go wherever - so long as he wasn't flashing someone, anyway - seeing as this is the first time and Katie only sort of knows what she's doing… yeah, some privacy is called for. There's a wooden outhouse behind the farmhouse, which Van slinks his way to like he's doing something wrong and illicit. The outhouse is pretty small and forces him to bend over, and it's overall very awkward. It stinks. The seat is tiny and looks kind of uncomfortable to actually sit on.

Katie has a feeling she's going to miss Earth's modern day plumbing before long.

Right now she has other concerns, though.

Van takes a deep breath - and then regrets it, because of the outhouse smell - before looking down. The trousers are easy enough to figure out, they're basically normal trousers except fastened with a string instead of zipper. The underwear, not so much. While Katie has seen it before and actually spent quite a bit of time trying to figure it out, seeing it on Van now…

It's a kind of cloth wrap thing, like the whole thing is one long stretch of fabric wrapped around the waist and down. The final effect is not unlike briefs, and it's actually kind of comfortable and it definitely keeps everything contained… but if Van takes it off, he will definitely not be able to put it back on again.

Hm, maybe he can, sort of… move it aside…?

Touching it is a bit weird. Katie does a little gibbering flailing thing in the back of his mind while Van tugs at the fabric, feeling all the stuff beneath shift - feeling all the stuff feel the movement. It's weird - having sensations in bits Katie never had before. 

Kind of cool though, too. In a sort of unreal way.

Van gets his fingers beneath to pull his penis out and then… there it is, sticking out past the cloth, with its two buddies still nestled in the wrapping.

It would probably be inappropriate to call it a tool. It kind of fits, though. It's very… proportional. 

And Katie is suddenly very aware of her long stint as a single woman, because damn. Like, she's never been that into the look or size of a guy's dick - a penis is a penis, they're all kind of the same in the end - but damn. Van has one hell of a dick. Like, Katie probably wouldn't want to have sex with Van, because ouch… but damn.

"Okay, don't play with it, just do your business," Van mutters, thinking back to Katie's stint in the kindergarten and wincing at the memory of potty training. As extremely unsexy thought as there ever was, he thinks with a grimace and then attempts to… manoeuvre himself into position. "Just point and aim."

It's weird, and very… fleshy. But at least the rest of the operation is roughly the same for a man as it is for a woman - bladder is a bladder, apparently. It's still weird - as is not needing to wipe afterwards. It doesn't feel like it's enough, to just shake it. Not that there's anything to wipe with in the outhouse.

"Weird, weird, this is so weird," Van mutters, shaking himself and then quickly tucking the weapon away.

There's nowhere to wash his hands afterwards.

"Great," he mutters and then slinks back to the barn where he sleeps at night. His mirror water turns into hand washing water, and he still feels a bit dirty afterwards. He's hyperaware of what's going down below the belt, all of a sudden. Also, maybe getting a bit hard? Is it really that damn easy to get riled up as a man? Van's not even thinking of anything sexy, and apparently it's going up on its own. What the hell?

Climbing up to the hayloft, Van lies down and tries to not think about his dick. He's got an existential crisis on his hands. Woman stuck in a man's body here. This is no time for any kind of self-inflicted fun times. He needs to experience the horrors of being not in a body of his own. Her own. Whatever. Body dysmorphia, here we go!

Yeah, no, apparently not. His mind keeps slipping downwards along with the blood pooling there, as though the damn thing has a gravity of its own. He can feel his penis straining his underwear - taking it out, putting his hand around it, it would feel… probably pretty good right now. And it's not like Katie doesn't want to - like she hasn't been curious what it was like, how it would work. Porn and smut painted a pretty vivid image, of course, but nothing beats hands on experience.

Mmm, hands on…

Van stares at the ceiling for a long moment, biting his lip. There's no one in this end of the barn but him. The Gylcrosses are in their house, Josel is off in his little hutch… there's no one here. No one but him.

… Right, okay. Fine.

With a grunt Van gets up to find a rag or something.

It would clear his head too, probably, if all the post nut clarity memes are to be believed. He would have his existential crisis with a clear mind afterwards.

-

Katie wakes up the next morning to the cock crowing somewhere outside and has a moment of flailing confusion at the feel of all the hay around her and sight of the wooden ceiling and beams above her head… before everything comes back.

Right. She's still here. She's transmigrated into Van and to the very start of Age of Tales. And it's now day two.

"Shit," Van murmurs, running a hand down his face. His chin feels bristly - apparently that's a yes on the needing to shave going forward, if he wants to keep Van's chiselled chin in view. Which is probably not all that important, considering that, well…

Tonight, the plot would finally kick off in earnest.

Breathing in and out for a moment, Van lets his arm drop to his side. He hadn't even thought of what he would do, beyond the usual. Even with all the dramatic consequences, the Rift opening was still part of the tutorial, and so all the enemies were pretty low level. The character was meant to run, of course - at this point there was not much they were supposed to be able to do against them.

Emphasis on the supposed. This is, however, Age of Tales.

The whole tutorial section is a bit… Well, overall, Katie gets it - the whole point of the tutorial section is to paint the illusion of peaceful normalcy and introduce the player to the base mechanics and the NPC shops before the plot can kick off and burn the whole idyllic place to the ground for shock value. The first time Katie went through it, it was pretty epic, overall.

But giving the players the chance to shop before the fight was kind of dumb.

Because, while the game didn't get that popular, it had some players, and just about everyone who did play it went about the tutorial the same way. They gambled for cash and kitted themselves out as best they could as soon as they could… and in so doing, turned the whole Rift thing into a bit of a joke by actually standing up against the invasion, something they plot-wise weren't supposed to be able to do. And most of them didn't even realise it, breaking the game completely by accident.

And when you went about it perfectly intentionally, well… the Rift stopped being a threat at all and became the perfect spawn kill camp.

That was what Van had been planning to do - until reality nerfed Katie's money-making tricks.

"System, open inventory," Van calls.

[Inventory] [Simple Knife, lvl. 1] [Shepherd's Slingshot, lvl. 1] [14 x Basic Stone Ammunition ] [3 x Spearhead] [1 x Apple] [Empty Jug] [Dirty Rag]

Yeah, not exactly winning starter gear, especially considering that he still doesn't have a single shred of proper armour. He hasn't been this poorly prepared for the Rift since the very first playthrough - and even then he at least had some armour and a sword! Reality is really kicking his ass this time.

He can't figure out if it's frustrating or exciting. Probably the first one.

"Guess I'm making some spears," Van muses and then sits up with a grunt. Finger-combing the hay out of his hair, Van eyes the dirty rag and then winces. He would need to get rid of it, and maybe he could wash up somewhere before getting started. Unfortunately, he doesn't think there's a washroom or anything around here…

[Farm Chores, Lvl. 1.] [It's a new day on Gylcross farm, and it's time to get to work!]

[Farm Chores 1, Lvl. 1.] [Let the chickens out.] [Let the goats out.] [Let the cows out.] [Let Bell out.] [Quest reward:  10 exp, 3 Apples.] [Farm Chores 2, Lvl. 1.] [Muck the pens and stalls.] [Quest reward:  10 exp, 5 Fresh Eggs.] [Farm Chores 3, Lvl. 1.] [Take a look at the garden and weed Ms. Janelle's vegetable beds.] [Quest reward:  10 exp, 4 x Mixed Herbs] [Farm Chores 4, Lvl. 1.] [Milk the goats and the cows.] [Quest reward:  2 exp, 1 Bottle of Milk.] [Accept?] [Yes.] [No.]

Van winces a little at the sudden bombardment of pop-ups. Looks like he has some work to do. How much it all will matter when this time tomorrow the farm will be in ruins aside… exp is exp. And if he could squeeze in another level up before the Rift, it definitely wouldn't hurt.

Standing up - and bending over to duck below the ceiling beams - Van shuffles to the ladder to start the day with a quick rinse in a bucket of cold water.

By the time he heads out of the barn, Janelle has breakfast ready and set in front of the farmhouse. "Good morning, Van!" she calls, waving. "Come have some eggs and pancakes!"

Josel is already there and already stuffing his face with eggs. "Good morning," Van greets them both and then asks, interestedly, "Pancakes?"

"Yeah - Daddy bought flour and sugar yesterday!" Janelle says excitedly. "We've got some honey too - come here and try it."

Van does, sitting down beside Josel, accepting his share with a, "Thank you, miss." It looks great, and it smells even better.

"It's Janelle," the farmer's daughter says firmly and sits down across from him.

The breakfast is great, as are the pancakes. Mr. Gylcross doesn't make an appearance, but no one comments on it, and so Van doesn't either - maybe the man sleeps in when it's not a market day, or something. After they're done eating, Josel helps Janelle clear out the table, while Van considers his quests.

"Are you going to let the animals out?" Janelle asks, wiping her hands in her apron. "I'll come with you - I'll collect the eggs while I'm at it."

"Sure," Van agrees and offers Josel an apologetic nod before following Janelle towards the chicken coops.

It's a perfectly pleasant day, with only a few fluffy clouds in the sky and just the barest hint of a breeze in the air. The sort of day when nothing bad is supposed to happen, of course. Perfectly normal day.

"Daddy says you visited the tailor yesterday," Janelle comments. "That you ordered some kind of armour."

Van blinks and looks at her. "Uh, I didn't realise he knew about that," he says. The man hadn't mentioned it. How did he find out, anyway? "I did, yeah."

"Why?"

Well, there's going to be a battle in Westbrook the day after tomorrow, and then the place is going to be set on fire, and Valthor's most annoying minion is going to make a grand appearance. Van is really hoping to curbstomp that guy's smug little face to the ground, and armour would make that much, much easier. "Well," he says, because clearly he can't say any of that. "I don't know. Just felt like it, I guess?"

Janelle looks at him carefully, and asks, "Have you… remembered something?" she asks. "About your past?"

Van hesitates, because in the game the player character never remembers time before the farm - but he does learn about it from others. "No, not really," he says finally. "I just… have a feeling I'm going to need something. Actually," he adds and takes a spearhead out of the satchel. "I also got a few of these."

Janelle accepts the dull spearhead, tilting her head with confusion. "Is that a weapon?"

"Head of a spear - I'm going to find some pole to stick it on," Van says and shrugs. "And then I'll have a spear."

Janelle shakes her head, looking a little upset. "But what do you need a spear for?" she asks.

Van shrugs again. "I don't know. It just feels like something I should have."

Janelle hums unhappily, turning the spearhead in her hand. "So, I was right," she murmurs and looks at him sadly. "You are a soldier."

In the game you learn the main character's background in flashbacks and  hints from the designated Mentor character at Ulgor's Camp, but it's a pretty cliché dealio overall. The player character has amnesia - of course - and was left at the Gylcross farm by a Mysterious Hooded Person - of course - while the Mysterious Hooded Person ran away all suspicious-like. Janelle Gylcross eventually found the player character hiding in the barn hayloft, all confused and out of it and bleeding from the head. Through some interrogation and arguing with her father, Janelle got him settled in as a new farm hand.

It's all shown to the player in this grainy sepia cut scene, a collage of moments as the player character learns how to swing a hoe and milk the cows and stuff. It's pretty wholesome. And the fact that it's shown to you only after the farm has been burned down and everyone there was killed, well… Katie has some issues with the arrangement of narrative there, but it was kind of a punch to the gut, the first time she played the game.

Also absolutely hilarious, watching this brick shithouse of a man do these cute farm chores, like carrying baby lambs around, delicately harvesting berries from the bushes and weeding garden beds.

"I'm not a soldier," Van says and accepts the spearhead back. "I just feel like it'll be better to be prepared than not."

"Right," Janelle says and hugs herself, looking uncomfortable. "Are you going to leave the farm? I know Daddy only contracted you until the harvest, but… I thought you liked it here."

"Well… it is nice," Van says. And it really is. He looks at the farmstead around them and hums thoughtfully. It's very peaceful and idyllic and wholesome. In the game it's often implied how much the player character wishes he could've stayed there, wishes none of the terrible things that followed wouldn't have happened, and the world could've stayed as it was.

More than another day of it and Katie would be climbing the walls, bored out of his mind.

"I guess we'll see," Van says and smiles at Janelle. "You never know what will happen."

-

[<<Prologue | <Chapter 4 || Chapter 6>>] Proofread by @nimadge, many thanks

-

I call this the Tool Inspection Chapter. And I hope it made at least one person laugh as much as it made me to write it.

[gonzodangerfeels]

Me: boy go to your mother for flexibility lessons.

[felixisnotfruity]

I HATE CHRISTMAS EVE!!!!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

barely alternate version of that billions 4x12 scene

[sttoru]

‘and if i only could, i’d make a deal with god, and i’d get him to swap our places. .’ — kate bush

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. gojo satoru x wife!reader. fluff to angst (no comfort). spoilers chapter 261. reader’s pregnant. major character death. mentions of blood, death. nicknames ‘pretty, sweets’. not proofread bcs i couldn't through the tears. i cried nine times writing this so.. good luck! wc: 3.6k

“he’s kicking again,” satoru chuckles excitedly. he’s been clinging onto you ever since you got back from your doctor’s appointment. your baby boy is growing up healthy and there don’t seem to be any complications.

you smile and rest back against the velvety pillows. you’re enjoying the affection you’re receiving, the kisses and nuzzles against your swollen tummy makes every bit of suffering worth it. your husband is going to be an amazing dad, that you can tell.

“hey, little guy—don’t give ya mommy a tough time,” satoru huffs and gently taps the side of your stomach that was last kicked by the unborn baby, “that’s my wife, y’know?” you giggle at the scene in front of you and close your eyes, relaxing your body.

a comfortable silence hangs in the room. satoru’s warm hands cupping and rubbing your round stomach add to the tranquil atmosphere. the weight of your husband’s head presses onto the front of your plump belly—ear pressed against the stretched skin as if expecting to hear your baby boy talk.

after a while, you open your eyes. you hear a sniff and then the usual silence follows. you look down at satoru settled between your legs, hugging your waist and resting his cheek on your tummy. he’s awfully quiet and you’re unable to see his eyes because of his bangs.

“toru, everything okay?” you carefully ask. your voice comforts him for the next couple seconds, before his muscles tense up once more. satoru tries his best to seem unaffected by the many thoughts scurrying through his head.

“mhm,” your husband nods and forces a small smile. though, he can’t keep the facade up any longer. the longer you’re pregnant, the more worried he gets about a certain something; something that’s been bothering him ever since.

it’s the reason why he doubted even having kids in the first place.

“i—well. i don’t know, sweets,” satoru sighs. a deep sigh that shatters the mask he’s had on for so long. his brows furrow and his eyes dart from one place to the other. his fingers stop their movements on your stomach. they curl around the material of your shirt instead; showing a clear sense of vulnerability.

satoru seems. . . afraid, yet also angry. perhaps at himself, perhaps at the world. you don’t utter a single word. if there’s anything you want, it’s for your husband to speak about his inner turmoil freely. you’re the only person who he can have such emotional conversations with—the only person he can be himself with.

the real gojo satoru.

not the strongest.

that’s why you’re not surprised when satoru opens his mouth to confess the inevitable to you. “i’m scared,” his voice cracks. it’s a faint change in tone, but it is noticeable to you. you’ve been his lover for long enough to notice every minuscule thing.

the white-haired man lets out another sigh. you brush his soft bangs out of his eyes and instantly notice the sudden weariness in them. normally, those beautiful blue eyes shine brightly, yet that light has now dimmed.

you pat his head and satoru immediately leans into your touch. you allow him to process his own emotions and words before speaking up.

“scared?” you ask quietly and carefully, giving your husband space to explain.

satoru nods. there are a thousand thoughts running through his mind. all those thoughts he’s tried to suppress since the day you’ve announced your pregnancy. maybe even before that—at the day of your wedding.

he’s sat down with you a few months into the marriage, to have the talk about kids. he seemed to be delighted to have children with you, however there have always been some dark and hidden thoughts lingering in the back of his mind.

the sorcerer has chosen to ignore them for the longest time. he’s been trying to convince himself that he has nothing to worry about. you’re going to be fantastic parents and your children are going to be extremely loved.

the day you surprised him with your pregnancy, was like a dream. satoru cried - which he rarely does - so it was an emotional night for both of you. neither of you could wait to meet your child—happy with whatever gender.

despite all of the optimism and enthusiasm, satoru’s struggles with his inner thoughts have not yet ended. he doesn’t want to bother you with it. you seem so content and he does not want to ruin that at all.

but even the strongest without limits has to reach a breaking point.

“yeah,” satoru speaks up, his voice hoarse. he kisses your belly button, hoping his child doesn’t pick up on his distress somehow. your husband closes his eyes as he places his forehead against your tummy, praying that the heavens above hear his pleas, “i don’t want our kid to inherit my cursed techniques. at all.”

your hand doesn’t stop stroking satoru’s hair. you don’t flinch at his words, nor do you immediately discard his worries. in all honestly, you’ve shared the same feelings before getting pregnant.

you know how satoru’s treated by the jujutsu society. it’s dehumanising how he’s seen as a weapon of some sorts. a weapon that could solve all problems—one that cannot rest until its duty is done.

you despise it. you’ve told satoru about your hatred for the toxic society, even going as far as asking him to move to a different country without telling anyone. you’re sick and tired. you can’t recall the amount of times that you’ve cried alone, in the bathroom, after you’ve seen the state your lover comes back home in.

the white-haired man always seems so tired. his eyes and head hurt because of them overusing his cursed techniques. there are even days where satoru doesn’t put his blindfold or sunglasses off at home.

and when you try to talk to him about it, satoru simply assures you that ‘he’ll be fine’. you believe him in the moment, but you don’t know for how long you’ll be able to keep that trust.

you’re letting him break, slowly yet surely, right in front of you. he’s working himself to his demise. it’s nothing out of the ordinary to not want the same for your child.

though, you’re sure that it’ll be fine even if your baby boy inherits satoru’s techniques. that’s because you two are going to protect him with all you have. no one is going to treat your child like a weapon—not while the both of you are still alive.

“i don’t want our child to take over the burden i carry,” satoru continues. his brows are furrowed and his lips are pressed into a thin line. he’s already thinking about all the possibilities that can follow with the birth of your son.

he can hide his child from the world, but wouldn’t that be too restrictive? he can keep an eye on him every second of the day, but wouldn’t that be overprotective?

you notice satoru’s internal state of panic increasing, so you quickly cup his face. you lean down and press a firm kiss against his lips, to which he instantly responds. his breath hitches and he sits up on the mattress, deepening the kiss as his hands hold you by the back of your head.

he needs this—you—more than anything else in the world. if it wasn’t for you, he’d have lost his sanity long ago.

you pull back after a good minute and pant. you chuckle as you notice the slight pout on satoru’s lips. he never seems satisfied with just one kiss, which is adorable. you coo and pepper his face with small pecks, “aww.”

it’s comforting to the sorcerer. he closes his eyes and his mouth forms a small smile. you’re doing an amazing job at calming him down. satoru’s muscles relax and he finds himself nestled between your legs soon enough.

you realise that he’s still somewhat afraid for the future of his child by the way he’s playing with your shirt. his head lays on your chest and his long fingers trace shapes on your exposed skin.

“i know, honey, i know,” you murmur against the top of his head. you massage satoru’s scalp gently, nearly making him purr because of how incredible that feels. you stare at the ceiling and continue your little talk.

“i’ve thought about all of it too,” your fingers find his undercut, playing with the little hairs. all you can hope for is that your partner stresses less about the outcome of your pregnancy.

if you can do one thing for him, it’d be that. reassuring him that you’ll both do your best for your child will surely put him at ease. your husband has enough to worry about anyway.

you want to share that burden. you don’t want him to carry the world on his shoulders alone—he’s got you for that now.

“but i think that our son will be fine. why? because he’s got you,” you smile and kiss satoru’s forehead. it’s his favorite type of kiss and it works wonders when you comfort him. his ocean eyes regain their sparkle, both because of your unconditional love and trust in his parenting skills, “our boy will grow up fine and protected because he’s got you as his amazing dad, yeah?”

satoru takes some time to let your words sink in. your trust in him is a beautiful thing. of course, he’ll protect his kid no matter what. both you and his kid will be safe for as long as he’s alive. you’re going to be a happy family—one that he’s always dreamed of having.

he isn’t going to raise his child to be the strongest. he isn’t going to raise his child as an heir to the throne. he isn’t going to raise his child as his legacy. he isn’t going to raise his child as a tool.

his son will have a normal childhood and he will guarantee that. satoru will give his kid what he didn’t have as a child himself;

unconditional love and support for whatever his son wishes to become.

satoru raises his head and leans in to kiss you, hugging you to himself. he adores you so much, you’re all he needs to feel like he can do anything and everything all at once.

carrying the world on his shoulders so you can live peacefully in it is all satoru does it for.

“heh, damn right. i’ll be the best husband and dad ever.”

. . .

but in the end, your dreams are just dreams, right?

an escape from reality, that’s all dreams really are. all those times you’ve sat together to pick the furniture you want to place in the nursery, to paint the room a baby blue, to buy clothes and toys, diapers and carriers, to giggle about the places you would love to visit as a family, to think about possible baby names, to joke about whether your son will say ‘dada’ or ‘mama’ first — all of it were naive, hopeful dreams.

perhaps you were too caught up in them to realise that reality will hit when least expected.

satoru and you have lived in your own bubble—your own little fantasy world where tragic fates does not exist. no one in this planet would suffer if life worked that way.

no one on this planet would have to pick up the phone and have their world shatter, their dream bubble pop. to have all hope lost in the span of a second.

grief is a scary thing. it’s devastating and it will consume you whole. you don’t realise that until you experience it firsthand. losing someone close to you will break you in half. it’s a punch to the gut.

especially if it’s your husband. someone you considered your partner—who’s promised you to be together forever. maybe those promises were also a part of your fantasy.

maybe they were also but a beautiful lie.

your footsteps feel heavy. you don’t have any energy left in you. every drop has been drained from you the moment you heard the news over the phone. your eyes and head hurt, both feeling like they’re going to burst. you don’t want to accept any of this.

the faces of the people around you are a blur. they’re all holding their head low, their hands gathered in front of them to show respect. no one speaks—all the room is filled with are your sobs. the loud cries you let out in hopes that they wake you up from this absolute nightmare.

you drag your feet to the examination table in the middle of the room. tears continue to blur your vision, though surely, you can confirm the outline of the body laying underneath the blanket.

how could you not recognise the person you thought you’d spend eternity with?

it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. . .

“satoru.” your voice is barely audible. your hands are shaking and your face is stained with endless streams of tears. you stand at the side of the table and you instantly curl your fingers around the edge.

seeing that face from up close hits different. usually, it’d have your stomach fill with a feeling of delight, yet now all you feel when looking at it is unimaginable dread.

the blood on the corners of his mouth. the blanket that’s hiding whatever is left of him from below the waist. the dull eyes that once stared at you with hope and love. those dried lips that normally shone with a layer of gloss.

god, it’s awful. you don’t want this to be true. you’re still waiting to be woken up by your husband. so he can hold you close and hug you, whisper sweet nothings and reassure you that he’d never leave you alone in a savage world like this.

your shaky fingers reach out to his right hand. his skin feels cold and his hand doesn’t hold yours back. your breath hitches and you let out a long, devastating cry. it sounds like a scream for help as your body crumbles—falling to your knees whilst you tightly grip your lover’s limp hand.

“no, god no, please!” you cover your mouth with your free hand, nearly hyperventilating from pure pain. you feel like your heart is going to give up on you. it’s breaking into a million pieces, as does your future. you can’t live without him—you can't do it.

satoru is the sole reason you’ve held out for so long. you were each other’s support system. you can’t do any of this on your own. you can’t breathe properly—your body doesn’t let you.

not until you feel a hand on your back, rubbing it gently. you can guess that it’s shoko, but you’re too distraught to even pay attention to her. you lift yourself up by holding onto the edge of the table, your legs shaking. you sniffle and sob uncontrollably.

you reach out to touch satoru’s lifeless face, as gentle as you always do. you flinch when you feel just how cold his body is—the usual warmth that would comfort you gone, nowhere to be found. you don’t get a reaction from him when you touch his cheeks.

it only serves to remind you of the tragic events that unveiled. you’re still in denial, but the moment feels real. your brain is slowly yet surely processing the information. though, you don’t want it to. you want to live in a world where you grow old with your husband.

where your child is going to grow up with a father figure at home.

“satoru, come back to me.. to us, please,” you beg and beg, hoping he smiles and sits up, telling you that it’s just one of his silly pranks again. when none of that happens, you feel yourself become more hopeless. you hunch over him and cup his face. the same face that would light up whenever you’d touch it.

you hiccup and wail, unable to breathe. you rub his cheekbones with your thumbs, settling your forehead against his. your tears fall underneath his eyes and slide down his temples, making it seem like he’s crying with you.

you wait for satoru to respond, but he doesn’t. there’s an eerie silence on his part and you’re panicking. you need him to comfort you, but he isn’t there to do that anymore. you’re left alone, all alone.

“i can’t do this without you—we can’t do this without you,” you stammer between sobs. you can’t go through life, knowing satoru isn’t going to be there for you. he isn’t going to come home anymore. he isn’t going to cuddle you to sleep anymore. he isn’t going to experience what it’s like to have a family of his own. he isn't going to be able to hold his child and to play with him.

you blame life for being unfair—always taking away the people who don’t deserve it. satoru hasn’t done anything to deserve this. he just.. existed. his fate of becoming the strongest, decided at his birth, is what has lead to his death.

you continue to sob to yourself. you refuse to acknowledge anything or anyone else in the room. you’re solely focused on your husband. or rather, what’s left of him.

remembering how excited satoru was to spend the rest of his life with you and your future children pains you all the more. he’s been stripped from a normal life. you’ve tried your hardest to give him that said normal life, yet your hopeful dreams have gotten you nowhere.

you wipe your tears away for the first time in a while. your grief is making you delusional—disoriented to the point you try to make yourself feel better. you force a smile and hold tightly onto satoru’s limp hand, trying to speak through your quiet sniffles.

“o-our boy is gonna be born soon,” you chuckle bitterly and place satoru’s hand on your belly. it’s gotten bigger over the months and you’re already eight months along. he was so close to meeting your child—so close. yet his tragic destiny did not allow him to.

you hope he’s been happy with you for as long as he lived. you hope you’ve somewhat relieved him from his misery for as long as he lived. that burden he carried, the world he carried on his shoulders. . . it doesn’t seem to want to detach from him. even after death.

you press a deep kiss against his forehead. satoru’s favorite spot to be kissed at, you remember. you wish he feels it in the afterlife; wherever he may he. as long as he’s in a better place now, one that treats him well. this current world has been too cruel on him. it doesn’t deserve to home someone like your husband.

“i wish you were here to see your son. to see our baby grow up, you'd be so proud, honey,” you kiss satoru’s forehead again. it’s all you can do stop yourself from losing it completely. you know satoru would tell you to be strong, for his sake. for your unborn son.

“i’m going to tell him all about you, ‘kay? i'm going to tell him about how awesome his dad was,” your voice breaks for the nth time. you’re still in the first stage of grief, though you try to seem strong in case satoru is watching from somewhere.

that’s what he did when he was the one going through a tough time. he’d act brave and fine, putting on a mask to make you worry less, telling you all kinds of reassuring words while he was suffering internally.

now it’s your turn to safely send his soul off to the afterlife. to let satoru pass away in peace, with him knowing that you’re going to live on for him and for your child. it’s the least you can do at the moment.

you put on a brave face, staring into his lifeless eyes, smiling through the unbearable pain. you’re sure he’s still listening to you from somewhere. satoru’s always told you that your voice is soothing, so you do your best to calm his soul and reassure him that it’s fine for him to rest.

“i’ll do my best to raise him, yeah? so you.. you just rest.”

rest was a foreign word to the sorcerer. this world didn’t give him an ounce of peace. he’d either be overworked by his family or the jujutsu society, and if it isn’t work, his inherited techniques were slowly killing his brain and body.

you’re praying that satoru has none of that in the afterlife. you’re praying that he can live a normal life, eternally. so that when you join him one day, you both won’t have to suffer nor share the burden. you can live out your dreams without anyone interrupting.

not even fate.

“you deserve to rest. you really do,” you sigh.

soon enough, you feel yourself crumble again. you burst out in tears once you realise that he’s actually never coming back to you in this life. you bury your face in the crook of his neck and sob loudly, not holding back your emotions anymore. you just can’t—you can’t act brave when your second half has been taken away from you so suddenly.

you hope that you succeeded into sending him off without any worries. you can’t help but continue rambling to yourself, “i’m going to miss you s’much. oh, my baby.”

you lift your head back and stare into satoru’s eyes once more. did he think about you when he was on his deathbed? did he see his life flash before his eyes, including his many memories with you? did he see what could have been?

it’s unfair.

you give him one last bright smile and gently close his eyelids for him, hoping his lost soul saw your face before you did so. with one last kiss on his lips, you whisper your final words;

“please wait for me on the other side, my love.”

[ivyues]

Unfiltered Beauty: Stray Kids' reactions to their S/O not wearing makeup often

Bang Chan

You sat on the couch in Chris’ studio, scrolling through your phone while he adjusted the levels on his track. You’d come straight from home in a hoodie, hair tied back, and no makeup on.

“Can you stop?” Chris suddenly said, leaning back in his chair.

“Stop what?” you asked, looking up at him in confusion.

“Being so distracting,” he said, smirking.

You furrowed your brow. “I’m literally sitting here doing nothing.”

“Exactly,” he replied, spinning his chair toward you. “You’re sitting there, looking all natural and gorgeous, and it’s ruining my focus.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. “So, you’re saying I look better without makeup? That’s just a roundabout way of dissing my makeup skills.”

“No way!” he protested, leaning his elbow on the armrest of his chair as he grinned at you.. “Your makeup skills are great, but you don’t need them. You’re stunning just as you are.”

“Nice save,” you teased, laughing as his grin widened.

Lee Know

Lee Know leaned against the doorway, watching you on the floor surrounded by his beloved cats. You were wearing one of his oversized shirts, your hair loose, and your face completely bare. Dori lay sprawled in your lap, soaking up your affection, while Soonie eagerly chased the string you were wiggling.

“What?” you asked when you noticed him staring, your voice tinged with curiosity.

“You look so…at home,” he said softly, a smile tugging at his lips.

You looked down at his shirt, then at the cats. “Well, your clothes are comfy, and your cats worship me. What can I say? I fit right in.”

He chuckled, walking over to crouch next to you. His hand gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “No makeup, messy hair, and still managing to outshine everything in this room,” he murmured, his eyes warm as they met yours.

You smirked, leaning closer. “Even Dori?”

His lips twitched into a grin. “Okay, let’s not get carried away.” He pressed a quick kiss on your lips before scooping Dori off your lap. “But you’re definitely a close second.”

Changbin

Steam billowed out of the bathroom as you stepped into the bedroom, wrapped in a fluffy towel. Your damp hair fell over your shoulders, and your freshly scrubbed face glowed naturally. Changbin looked up from his phone and froze, his eyes lingering on you.

“What?” you asked, shifting under his gaze as you walked to the closet.

“Nothing,” he said, setting his phone aside. “I just realized something.”

You turned, curious. “What?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear makeup around me,” he said thoughtfully, standing up and walking toward you.

You blinked. “Really? I mean, I only wear it for big events or when I’m feeling fancy. Otherwise, it’s too much work.”

His lips curved into a smile. “I like that. It feels like you’re showing me the most real version of yourself. That’s special.”

You softened at his words. “It’s not really a big deal, though.”

“It is to me,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. “You’re beautiful just the way you are. No makeup, no filters, just you.”

You smiled, leaning into his chest. “Thanks, Binnie. You’re pretty great, too.”

“Of course I am,” he teased. “But better get dressed before I spend the next hour telling you how amazing you are.”

Hyunjin

You walked out of your room wearing light makeup for a casual outing with Hyunjin. He looked up from his phone, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance.

“You’re wearing makeup?” he asked, standing up.

“Yeah, I felt like it today,” you replied, adjusting your jacket. “Why, does it look bad?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s just…you don’t usually wear it. It’s like seeing a rare art piece that’s been hidden in a museum vault.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You’re so dramatic, Hyunjin.”

He grinned, stepping closer to study your face. “Maybe, but it’s true. You’re already a masterpiece, whether it’s painted or not.”

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re too much, you know that?”

“I know,” he said with a wink. “But you love me for it.”

Han

Han came home after a long day at the studio to find you in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you stirred something on the stove. You were wearing one of his hoodies, your face bare, and your hair in a messy bun.

“Hey,” he greeted, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

You turned your head to smile at him. “Hey, you’re home early.”

He rested his chin on your shoulder, inhaling the comforting scent of your shampoo. “You’re like a walking comfort zone.”

You chuckled. “Is that a compliment?”

“The best kind,” he said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “No makeup, no stress, just you being perfect.”

Felix

You were tying your sneakers, ready to head out for a quick grocery run with Felix. As you stood up, he glanced at you, his eyes lighting up.

“You’re not wearing makeup?” he asked, smiling softly.

“Do I need it for the groceries?” you teased, grabbing your bag.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I love that about you. You don’t feel like you need to impress anyone.”

“Well,” you said, bumping his shoulder playfully, “I still want to impress you.”

He reached for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “You already impress me every single day. Makeup or not, you’re perfect.”

Seungmin

Seungmin was scrolling through his phone while you cleaned up after dinner. He paused on a photo of you from a recent formal event and held it up.

“This one’s nice,” he said.

“Thanks,” you replied, glancing at the screen. “I did the makeup myself.”

He grinned mischievously. “It’s good.”

“Good? Just good?” you said, pretending to be offended, crossing your arms.

He chuckled, his gaze softening. “I mean, you don’t really need it. You look better without it anyway.”

You smirked, lightly slapping the back of his head with the towel. “You’re lucky I like you, Seungmin.”

I.N

You felt exhausted, so you put on a little makeup to cover up the dark circles under your eyes before your boyfriend came over. When he arrived, he tilted his head, studying your face.

“You’re wearing makeup?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” you admitted, rubbing your arm. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I'm feeling tired and didn’t want to look like it too.”

He stepped closer, gently taking your hands. “You don’t need this,” he said with a small smile. “I like you the way you are, even when you’re tired or feeling off. You’re always my favorite person.”

You felt your heart swell at his words. “Thanks, Jeongin.”

He grinned, squeezing your hands. “Now come on. Let’s watch a movie and relax. We can also take a nap if you want.”

masterlist

[caitified]

Hi can you please try to do Paige x reader wife. Where in they both want to have kids so they do IVF and after a year of trying reader is finally pregnant and Paige is so thrilled. Also, can it please be like first trim, second trim, and last trim until she gives birth? I hope you try this one out please. Thank you so much! And I just want to say how I love your witting!🩷

beginning

paige bueckers x reader

warnings:none, this will be the start of my new paige family series! feel free to drop ideas in my inbox. hope this is ok for you, i can into more detail if you’d like!

the first time you see the positive pregnancy test, you don’t believe it. after months of negative results, doctors’ appointments, and so many nights spent comforting each other when it felt like nothing was working, it doesn’t feel real.

but it is.

you call paige into the bathroom, your hands trembling as you hold the stick. “paige,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

she looks at you, confused for a second, before her eyes fall on the test. when she sees the two pink lines, her face lights up like you’ve never seen before.

“oh my god,” she breathes, taking the test from your hands and staring at it, her lips curving into a shaky smile.

“it’s happening,” you whisper, tears spilling down your cheeks.

paige pulls you into a tight hug, burying her face in your neck. “we’re having a baby,” she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion.

the first trimester is a mix of excitement and nerves. paige is constantly hovering, making sure you’re eating enough, resting enough, and not lifting anything heavier than a pillow.

“babe, i can carry the groceries,” you laugh one afternoon as she insists on hauling every single bag into the house.

“not a chance,” she replies, grinning. “our baby’s in there, and i’m not taking any risks.”

she spends hours reading parenting books, bookmarking baby names on her phone, and talking to your growing belly even when it’s too early for the baby to hear.

“hi, little one,” she whispers one night, her hand resting gently on your stomach as you lie in bed. “it’s me, your mama. i can’t wait to meet you.”

you can’t help but fall more in love with her every day.

by the second trimester, your bump has started to show, and paige is obsessed.

“look at you,” she says one morning, her hands gently cupping your belly as you get dressed. “you’re glowing.”

“i’m sweating,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but her grin is contagious.

she goes with you to every doctor’s appointment, holding your hand during the ultrasounds and tearing up when you hear the baby’s heartbeat for the first time.

“that’s our baby,” she whispers, her voice full of wonder.

she also becomes extremely protective. when a random person at the grocery store tries to touch your belly, paige steps in with a polite but firm, “please don’t.”

“you’re like a guard dog,” you tease later, and she shrugs, unapologetic.

“i’m just taking care of my girls,” she says, pressing a kiss to your temple.

the third trimester is harder. your back aches, your feet are swollen, and you’re more exhausted than ever. but paige is there for you through it all, rubbing your feet at night, running out to get your weird cravings, and reminding you how beautiful you are even when you don’t feel like it.

“you’re amazing,” she says one night as she helps you settle into bed, her hand resting on your belly. “i don’t know how you’re doing this.”

“because i have you,” you reply, your heart swelling as she leans down to kiss you softly.

she’s the one who sets up the nursery, carefully assembling the crib and decorating the walls with soft colors and tiny basketball decals.

“our kid’s going to be a baller,” she says proudly, and you laugh, knowing she’s probably right.

when the contractions finally start, paige is a mix of nerves and excitement. she holds your hand the entire time, whispering words of encouragement and brushing your hair out of your face.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” she murmurs, her voice steady even though you can see the tears in her eyes. “i’m so proud of you.”

and when your baby is finally born—a tiny, perfect girl—paige is the first to hold her, her hands trembling as she cradles your daughter against her chest.

“she’s perfect,” paige whispers, tears streaming down her face as she looks at you. “thank you. thank you for her.”

you smile, exhausted but so full of love, watching as paige presses a gentle kiss to your daughter’s forehead.

“we did it,” you say softly, and paige nods, her eyes never leaving your baby.

“yeah,” she whispers, her voice full of awe. “we did.”

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.1

Chapter One: Hide Your Heart From Sight

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Celebrities, Starstruck,

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Welcome to this disaster of a fic that I have constantly daydreamed about. Logistically, yes, it is so improbable and unrealistic— but there’s a 0.001% chance that it could happen… to you. It’s nice to wonder and dream. I like wondering. Granted, I’ve never worked in production ever… I am studying advertising and arts soooo that’s as much knowledge I have tehe. 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: It Could Happen To You by Laufey

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

The hum of the plane’s engines filled the air as you settled into your seat, trying not to fidget. You glanced at your boarding pass again, as if to double-check you weren’t hallucinating. Seat 3B—business class. Marvel had spared no expense for the production team’s travel, but you still couldn’t quite believe you’d be flying so comfortably.

What shocked you even more, though, was the man lowering himself into the seat next to yours: Pedro Pascal. Yes, that Pedro Pascal. The man whose movies you’d watched obsessively before joining this production, the actor who somehow seemed both unattainably larger-than-life and heartbreakingly down-to-earth.

“Hi,” he said with a warm smile, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Looks like we’re seatmates.”

You froze for a moment, then managed a weak, “Hi.” Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you mentally scrambled for something to say that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete idiot.

“You’re with the crew, right?” Pedro asked, adjusting the scarf around his neck. “What do you do?”

“Oh, um,” you stammered, “I’m just a production assistant. It’s my first big project.”

“No kidding? That’s awesome,” he said, genuinely sounding impressed. “First time working on a Marvel movie? How’s it going so far?”

“It’s… surreal,” you admitted, relaxing slightly under his easygoing demeanor. “I mean, it’s been amazing, but also kind of overwhelming. There’s so much to do, and everyone’s so talented. I…” You trailed off, realizing you were rambling.

“I get it,” Pedro said, nodding. “First big gig can be a lot. But hey, you’re here. That means someone saw something in you, right?”

The sincerity in his voice made your cheeks flush. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. Pedro asked you about your favorite movies, your hobbies, and how you’d gotten into production work. You told him about your love for art direction and set design, your dream of one day being a production designer, and your side passion for writing and music. When you mentioned you played guitar and sang, he raised an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to play something for us on set sometime,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed nervously. “I don’t know about that. I’d probably die of embarrassment.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he replied, his tone light but mischievous.

By the time the plane landed, you were buzzing—partly from the conversation and partly from the fact that you’d just spent hours talking to Pedro Pascal as if he were an old friend.

The buzz quickly faded when you arrived at the hotel. You stood in the lobby with the rest of the crew, listening as the location manager, Duncan, argued with the front desk staff. Apparently, there’d been a mix-up with the bookings. The hotel was overbooked due to a telecommunications conference, and somehow, you’d been assigned to share a suite… with Pedro Pascal.

“This has to be a mistake,” you muttered to yourself, your anxiety spiking as Duncan tried to sort things out. But no matter how much back-and-forth there was, the conclusion remained the same: there were no other rooms available.

“Look,” Pedro said finally, stepping in with his usual calm demeanor. “It’s fine. I don’t mind sharing if she’s okay with it.”

You blinked up at him, your mind racing. “I…”

“Hey,” he said gently, noticing your hesitation. He leaned in slightly, his voice soft but steady. “Look at me. I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it. No pressure.”

You swallowed hard, glancing over at Duncan, who looked as stressed as you felt. Finally, you nodded. “I’m fine with it if everyone else is.”

“Great,” Pedro said, flashing you a reassuring smile. “It’s settled, then.”

Duncan pulled you aside before you headed to the elevators. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked, his tone fatherly.

“Yes,” you said, forcing a smile. “Is there any kind of form I need to sign, or…?”

“No, it all falls under the NDA from your employment,” he assured you. “But seriously, if you need anything, just text me.”

You thanked him and joined Pedro in the elevator. The ride up to the suite was silent, save for the soft dinging of the floors passing by. When you finally stepped into the room, you couldn’t help but gape. It was a spacious suite with two bedrooms on opposite sides, a small kitchenette, and a cozy living area.

“This isn’t so bad,” Pedro said, dropping his bag by the door. He turned to you, his expression kind. “Do you have a preference for which room?”

You fidgeted with the strap of your bag. “Um, no, you can pick.”

“Ladies’ choice,” he insisted, his tone playful.

“Okay,” you said, gesturing to the room on the right. “I’ll take that one.”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin. “Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

As you unpacked in your room, the reality of the situation began to sink in. You were sharing a suite with Pedro Pascal. For at least a week. And somehow, you had to act like a normal, functioning human being the entire time.

You took a deep breath and flopped over on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Letting out a huff of air in disbelief, you muttered to yourself, “This has to be some sort of dream… or prank, right?”

Placing both hands over your face, you rubbed it in exasperation. “Get your shit together, girl. No screwing things up, no more internal freakouts. He’s a person, like you. Mhm, sure. Yup. Totally fine.”

You sighed deeply, trying to convince yourself of your own words. The suite was spacious and nicely furnished, with plenty of room to keep your distance—but that didn’t stop your overactive imagination from running wild. Every interaction felt loaded with the possibility of embarrassing yourself, but you swore you’d keep it together.

To say people around the production crew had heard about your new roomie was an understatement.

The day before shooting began, you attended a pre-production meeting that covered everything: call sheet details, blocking and camera movement, technical requirements, and a bunch of safety protocols. It was standard procedure but felt ten times more overwhelming knowing your friends would tease you mercilessly.

You sat with your friends from the art department, trying to focus, but they weren’t making it easy. Archie, one of the lead set designers, leaned over with a smirk. “So, how’s life as Pedro Pascal’s roomie?”

You felt your face heat up instantly. “I—it’s not… it’s just temporary,” you stammered, fiddling with the edge of your notebook.

Stephanie, a costume designer with an endless supply of sass, raised an eyebrow. “Temporary or not, it’s the stuff of rom-coms, babe. Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined a meet-cute scenario in that suite.”

“I have not!” you protested, though your flaming cheeks betrayed you. 

Will, an art director with a love for stirring the pot, chuckled. “Come on, you’ve gotta admit it’s a little… serendipitous? You, a huge fan, sharing a suite with the guy? Sounds like fate to me.”

“It’s not fate,” you insisted, trying to deflect. “It’s a logistical mistake, that’s all.”

Max, the trainee set dresser, chimed in with a grin. “Yeah, but a logistical mistake that’s got everyone talking. Even Steve heard about it, and he’s usually the last to know anything.”

Steve, the lighting technician, shrugged. “What can I say? Word travels fast. I’m just here to see how long it takes for Pedro to find out about your… fandom.”

“Oh my god, can we not?” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “He’s going to think I’m a weirdo.”

Rebecca, a fellow production assistant and one of your closest friends, patted your shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, he seems like the kind of guy who’d find it endearing. Besides, you’ve been professional so far, right?”

You nodded hesitantly. “I think so. I mean, I haven’t said anything stupid yet.”

“Yet being the keyword,” Sophie teased, earning a laugh from the group.

Patricia, always the voice of reason, smiled warmly. “Just be yourself. You’re great at your job, and Pedro’s just another actor. A very charming actor, sure, but still just a person.”

“Thanks, Patricia,” you said, feeling slightly more grounded. But the anxiety still lingered, especially with everyone’s teasing reminders of your not-so-secret crush.

As the meeting wrapped up and you headed back to your tasks, you couldn’t shake the nervous excitement bubbling inside you. Sharing a suite with Pedro Pascal might’ve been a logistical mistake, but it was quickly turning into one of the most unreal experiences of your life.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL, LONDON — NIGHT

Dinner with the cast and crew had been lively, filled with laughter, and far too many knowing glances sent your way by your friends. The teasing hadn’t stopped, even over plates of pasta and glasses of wine.

Archie had leaned over at one point, a mischievous glint in his eye. “So, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when Pedro walks out of the bathroom shirtless? Swoon or faint?”

You nearly choked on your drink. “Archie!”

“I’m just saying,” he said with a laugh. “It’s a valid question.”

Stephanie smirked. “She’s probably rehearsing her ‘I’m totally cool and unaffected’ face right now.”

You groaned. “I hate all of you.”

Rebecca grinned. “No, you don’t. But seriously, just enjoy the moment. How many people can say they’ve shared a hotel room with Pedro Pascal?”

By the time the group had wandered back to the shuttle, your cheeks were sore from laughing, and your nerves were only slightly calmed. But as the cold London air nipped at your skin, you found yourself longing for the warmth of the hotel.

Your teeth chattered as you stepped off the shuttle, clutching your coat tighter around you. You didn’t like the cold very much, and London was very, very cold.

The moment you entered the hotel lobby, the warmth began to seep into your body, and you let out a sigh of relief. The elevator ride to your floor was quiet, your mind finally shutting down after a long evening of socializing. By the time you reached your room, you were operating on autopilot.

Tapping your keycard to the door, you quietly pushed it open, careful not to disturb Pedro if he was already asleep. It was just past 9:30 p.m., and you knew the early call time tomorrow would have him resting early.

You shut the door softly behind you, locking the deadbolt before shuffling into the room. You removed your coat, scarf, and shoes, swapping them for the fuzzy slippers you’d packed. The room was dimly lit, and you moved quietly, hoping not to make too much noise.

“Oh, you’re back.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, clutching your chest as your heart tried to escape it. Whipping around, you found Pedro lounging on the sofa, a book in his hands and a soft, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was wearing a plain white tee and gray sweatpants, his square-framed glasses perched on his nose, and he looked entirely too comfortable—like he belonged there. Like this was normal.

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you were still awake,” you said, voice breathless as you tried to recover from the scare.

He chuckled, his laugh low and warm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. You were so quiet coming in, I thought maybe you were sneaking around.”

You set your things on the small table by the door, giving him an exasperated look. “I wasn’t sneaking around. I was trying not to wake you.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” He tilted his head, watching you with that relaxed air that somehow made you feel completely exposed. “How was dinner?”

“It was good,” you said, shrugging as you moved toward the kitchenette to grab a bottle of water. “Everyone was in high spirits, and the food was great. We took a little walk around the city before heading back.”

Pedro closed his book, setting it on the coffee table. “Sounds nice. London at night can be magical.”

“Yeah, it was.” You paused, feeling the weight of his gaze. “Though, I think I underestimated just how cold it gets here. My teeth were chattering the whole way back.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smile softening. “Didn’t bring a warm enough coat?”

“I thought I did, but apparently not. I’m not built for this kind of weather,” you admitted with a laugh, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to stave off the lingering chill.

Pedro stood, crossing the room with an easy grace that made your breath hitch. “Well, we can’t have you freezing, can we?” He grabbed the throw blanket draped over the back of the sofa and held it out to you. “Here.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the simple gesture. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I just get cold really easily. Besides, I’ll warm up eventually.”

“Take it,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s not a big deal.”

Reluctantly, you took the blanket, your fingers brushing his for the briefest moment. It sent a jolt of warmth through you that had nothing to do with the fabric now wrapped around your shoulders. “Thanks,” you murmured, pulling it tighter around you.

“Better?” he asked, stepping back to give you space but still watching you with that disarmingly kind expression.

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “Much. Thanks, Pedro.”

He smiled again, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged, like something unspoken was hanging there. But then he broke the silence, his voice light. “So, did they give you a hard time at dinner?”

Your face heated instantly. “What do you mean?”

He smirked, leaning casually against the back of the sofa. “I heard some of the cast talking earlier. Apparently, your friends in the art department have been… teasing you about the room situation.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh no. What exactly did you hear?”

“Nothing incriminating,” he said with a laugh. “Just that they’re convinced this is some kind of meet-cute scenario straight out of a rom-com.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, mortified. “I’m so sorry. They’re ridiculous.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, his tone easy, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

Your hands dropped to your sides, your eyes wide. “Flattering?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s nice to know someone thinks sharing a room with me is worth all that excitement.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to process the fact that Pedro Pascal—Pedro Pascal—was standing in front of you, teasing you in the most charming way possible.

“Well, I’ll let you get some rest,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Big day.”

He gave you one last smile before retreating to his side of the suite, leaving you standing there with a racing heart and a head full of thoughts you were too scared to unpack.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — DAY  

You woke to the soft chime of your alarm, the faint glow of early morning light creeping through the curtains. Shuffling into the bathroom with a yawn, you turned on the shower, letting the warm water coax you into wakefulness. You placed your phone on the counter, tapping on a playlist to fill the small space with soft, melodic tunes—comforting background noise that kept your mind from spiraling too early in the day.  

After your shower, you toweled off and began your morning routine. Skincare applied with practiced ease, makeup brushed on with care, you avoided the mirror for too long, focusing instead on the growing anticipation of the day ahead. Pinning your ID to your lanyard, you glanced at your phone again.  

The group chat with your team was buzzing:  

Archie: "We’re fifteen minutes out. Don’t keep us waiting, queen 👑."  

Rebecca: "Text when you’re coming down!"  

Max: "Coffee run? Pls? 🙏"  

A small smile tugged at your lips as you tapped out a quick reply, your fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before you switched apps.  

Your heart did a little stutter as you opened your browser—a Joel Miller fanfic you’d been obsessing over still lingering on your screen. You skimmed the most recent chapter, your thumb pausing to scroll as you half-laughed at the absurdity of sneaking in a few paragraphs before a full day on set. You switched to the chat thread with your online friends, who were deep in a heated discussion about whether Joel would be the type to cook breakfast for his partner. You couldn’t help but chuckle, throwing in a quick, “He’d definitely make pancakes and act like it’s no big deal,” before locking your phone and setting it on the counter.  

Moving on autopilot, you padded into the small kitchenette, barefoot and still humming softly to the tune stuck in your head. You set the coffee machine to brew, pulling out a couple of mugs, a jar of Nutella, and some bread. Your hands moved with muscle memory, spreading the hazelnut spread on toast and slicing up a handful of fruit without a second thought. It wasn’t until the scent of coffee filled the air that you realized you’d made two plates of toast—one for you and one for Pedro.  

The realization struck at the same moment you heard the faint shuffle of footsteps behind you.  

“Morning.”  

His voice was low and warm, still carrying the huskiness of sleep. You froze, phone in one hand, butter knife in the other, as you turned to see Pedro leaning against the doorframe. His hair was adorably tousled, and he was dressed in a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants that somehow made him look effortlessly put together. His eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled at you, and you nearly dropped your phone in a panic.  

“Good morning,” you managed, your voice a little too high-pitched as you fumbled to lock your screen. The thought of him catching even a glimpse of what you’d been reading was enough to make your cheeks burn.  

Pedro glanced at the counter, taking in the toast, coffee, and neatly sliced fruit. “You made breakfast?”  

“Oh, uh—yeah.” You set your phone down and gestured awkwardly toward the spread. “I made you some coffee and toast with Nutella. I wasn’t sure if you’d want that, and there’s fruit, too. I was just about to cut some more, but obviously, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, and—”  

“Hey.” Pedro’s soft chuckle cut through your rambling, and when you met his gaze, he was looking at you with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”  

You blinked at him, momentarily stunned by the sincerity in his voice. “Oh. Yeah. No problem. It’s nothing, really.”  

He moved past you to grab a mug of coffee, the proximity sending your pulse into overdrive. As he poured himself a cup, you noticed his shoulders relaxed and his movements unhurried. He took a sip and let out a small, contented sigh.  

“Perfect,” he said, glancing over at you with a grin. “You’re spoiling me, you know that?”  

Your laugh came out nervous and breathy. “I’m pretty sure this doesn’t count as spoiling. It’s just toast.”  

“Yeah, but it’s good toast,” he teased, holding up a slice as if to emphasize his point.  

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension in your chest easing slightly. The moment felt impossibly domestic—like a scene out of one of those fanfics you’d been reading. Only this time, it wasn’t Joel Miller standing in the kitchen with you. It was Pedro.  

And that was somehow even more surreal.  

Pedro leaned against the counter, his mug cradled in both hands. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. “So,” he started, his voice warm and casual, “what were you so engrossed in on your phone earlier? You looked ready to throw it out the window when I walked in.”  

Your stomach flipped, and you tried to play it cool, even though you were fairly certain your face was now several shades of red. “Oh, nothing,” you lied, brushing a crumb off the counter. “Just the group chat. You know how chaotic they are.”  

Pedro tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Mm-hmm. Sure it wasn’t something more... intriguing?”  

You swallowed hard, gripping your coffee cup a little tighter. “Intriguing?”  

He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes twinkling with mischief over the rim of his mug. “You tell me.”  

“It’s nothing!” you blurted out, a little too defensively. “Just—just boring stuff. Work stuff.”  

“Work stuff,” he repeated slowly, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Because people laugh at boring work stuff while making toast.”  

You groaned, setting your mug down as you ran a hand over your face. “Can we not? Please? I’m already mortified enough.”  

Pedro chuckled, the sound low and teasing but not unkind. “Alright, alright. I’ll let it go... for now.” He set his mug on the counter and raised his hands in mock surrender. “But you owe me a story later. Deal?”  

You hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “Depends on how much coffee you’ve had by then. I might need you slightly less smug for that conversation.”  

His grin widened, and he leaned closer, just enough to make your heart stutter. “Smug? I prefer charming. But I’ll take it under advisement.”  

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. The playful banter made the room feel lighter, warmer.  

By the time you both finished your coffee, the atmosphere had shifted into something comfortable and easy. You quickly rinsed the dishes, your hands moving on autopilot as Pedro lingered nearby, chatting about everything and nothing.  

As you dried your hands, your phone buzzed on the counter, and you glanced at the screen.  

Rebecca: “Bus is almost there. Better get your cute butt down here!”  

You shot back a quick reply: “On my way.” Turning to Pedro, you grabbed your bag and gestured toward the door. “I’ve got to head down. My shuttle’s waiting.”  

Pedro grabbed his own bag and trailed after you. “I’ll walk down with you. I’ve got my own ride coming, but they’re always late.”  

The two of you stepped into the elevator, the hum of its descent filling the silence. The confined space suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier with unspoken tension.  

Pedro stood close—too close. You could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint hint of his cologne. Your heart thudded in your chest, and you pressed the strap of your bag tighter against your shoulder, hoping it would anchor you somehow.  

“So,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost intimate in the stillness of the elevator. “What’s the plan for today?”  

You glanced at him, his brown eyes watching you closely, the curve of his smile softer now. “Same as usual, I guess,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Make sure everything runs smoothly while you and everyone else look good on camera.”  

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “You make it sound so simple, but I know you’re the one holding it all together.”  

His words caught you off guard, and you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I just do my job.”  

“And you do it damn well,” he said, his tone sincere now, no teasing edge in sight.  

The elevator dinged as it reached the lobby, breaking the moment. Pedro gestured for you to step out first, and you did, your pulse still racing.  

“Thanks,” you murmured, not entirely sure if you were thanking him for his compliment or just for letting you escape the charged space of the elevator.  

As you spotted your shuttle waiting outside, you turned to him, suddenly aware of how reluctant you were to leave. “I’ll see you on set?”  

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a beat longer than necessary. “Yeah. See you soon.”  

You stepped outside, the crisp morning air hitting your face as you walked toward the shuttle. But even as you climbed aboard and found a seat, your mind was still back in that elevator, replaying every glance, every word, every spark.

End Notes:

Oh hi! I missed doing these silly bits; I thought to bring ‘em back. But, don’t worry, I’ll try to yap less haha

Yes, it’s super cliche, cheesy, unrealistic, and practically a hallmark movie in the making. But that’s the fun part in fanfiction and writing, it’s all made up and no one here is allowed to “yuck” each other’s “yum” if you know what I mean. ;)

Also, I have no idea how production for film works so I’m researching stuff and making stuff up along the way pls no one come after me T^T

Weirdly enough, I saw a reddit post from someone who works at the front of the hotel desk and they say the one-bed trope/one-room trope; it actually happens pretty frequently lol so who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca

[wonderjanga]

Billy’s Ideal Hero

Billy has had so so so many years to think about being the ideal hero. He’s finally come to the conclusion as to what being the ideal hero is.

It’s being super mysterious and suave. Mary thought him that last word.

Thankfully, he came to this conclusion before he started fully interacting with the public so no one needs to know about his normal, not hero-like self.

Billy didn’t realize how much of an impact this persona had on history and other heroes in general. The first time he found this out was, after the time bubble popped, when he was in DC because he needed to talk with some government people. On his way back to Fawcett, before he could leave the city, he spotted some kids bullying another, and he swiftly put a stop to it.

Marvel: *lands behind them with a smile* “I think it’d be wise for you boys to stop.”

Bullies: *turn and scream before running off*

Marvel: “Now then, are you alright?” *picks up some books on the ground*

Kid: *gobsmacked and takes the books back*

Marvel: *raises a brow but starts to float off the ground so he can fly off again*

Kid: “WAIT! WAIT! Are you the real deal?”

Marvel: “Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kid: “That’s… Awesome!”

The kid started yapping and yapping about something Billy didn’t entirely understand. The kid then shifted his books around so he could get to a history textbook.

Kid: *flips to a page* “This is you, right? You said this!” *shows it to Billy*

it was a black and white picture of him, making a speech in front of a crowd.

“It is a heroes job to protect anyone they can. Weak or strong, black or white, man or woman. It should not ever matter. If it does, you were simply never a hero in the first place.”

— Captain Marvel, circa 1949

It took every bone in Marvel’s body to not scrunch his face and look away and embarrassment because WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S IN THE TEXTBOOKS?! But alas, he has to remain that cool mysterious disposition.

The second time he realized the impact of this persona was when he was also in another city. Metropolis. See, he’d wanted to talk to this so called “Superman” but before he could, a giant foreign aircraft made itself known. Naturally, he went through the proper proceedings of telling the aircraft to leave and that it was in a foreign airspace. Instead of leaving it shot at him. None of its weird doohickies worked though. How humans have developed… Anyways, that ended up with him luring the ship to the middle of nowhere. After all, he would never fight it in a city. He’d have to be an idiot to do that.

He took care of the ship itself in a minute, his lightning frying it. Then he took care of the invaders inside. Turns out they were from a different planet. He took care of them in a couple minutes. In the end, he was covered in alien guts and picking it out of his suit and gloves.

After Marvel steps out of the ship…

Supes: *standing there confused as to why the aliens weren’t attacking and suddenly sees Marvel and stares*

Marvel: *stares back and stops picking alien intestine out of the hood of his cape* (idk I just like it whenever he has a hood on his cape. Think of the injustice version of him if you don’t know what I mean)

*silence*

Marvel: “I presume you’re Superman?” *steps forward, ignoring that he’s covered in blood because that wouldn’t be very mysterious or suave of him to acknowledge*

Supes: “Uh…” *looks behind Marvel and sees a bunch of dead aliens* “Yes?”

Marvel: “Wonderful!” *moves in front of Clark, takes off a glove (Yes he also wears gloves because I really like his injustice costume if you ignore all the black and replace it with either red or white) and holds out a hand for a shake* “It’s amazing to meet a new hero, let alone one from outside of Fawcett.”

Supes: “Really? It’s a pleasure to meet you too, sir.” *shakes his hand*

And it really was, even if Clark kept looking between Marvel and the aliens because he hadn’t heard a single sound of pain from the ship. That either meant Marvel did it quickly or he did it quietly. Clark wasn’t sure which was better. It was still a shock to see a revered hero, a hero Clark actually idolized, look like the person responsible for a massacre.

The two talked though and Clark wasn’t picking up any homicidalness so…? They actually managed to get smoothies after the Captain cleaned himself up with magic. Clark didn’t even know how they ended up in a smoothie joint. It’s just the other hero was so- so- so suave and mysterious. It reminded Clark a wee inseey weesy bit of Bruce. (Billy would internally cheer upon realizing that his persona was working) The other hero was also extremely easy to talk to and actually liked a lot of things Clark did, like reporting!

it almost made the kryptonian forget about the fact he was pretty sure the other man massacred a bunch of aliens. Almost. He brought it up to Batman immediately after their little little hangout session.

[hyunjinners]

✧:･ﾟHeartache → Stray Kids x reader ˚₊· ꒰🍃꒱

꒰ 命 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ꒱┊ during an argument, they raise their voice at you, uttering hurtful words.

꒰ 命 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ꒱┊ maknae line! x fem! reader 

꒰ 命 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ꒱┊ discussion, angst, established relationship.

꒰ 命 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ꒱┊ shouting, insults, fights, anxiety, insecurities (on both sides). Any scenarios, names and groups mentioned are pure fiction! Similarities to real events are purely coincidental. × In some scenarios not everyone is an idol. ×

꒰ 命 𝐖.𝐂 ꒱┊ 2,4k

꒰ 命 𝐀/𝐍 ꒱┊ I finally got the inspiration to release the second part of Runaway! If you haven't read the first part, I suggest you go there first :) English is not my first language! I apologize in advance for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist. Enjoy reading! ^-^

⊹₊˚ʚ❛masterlist❜ɞ

𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆¡!

Jisung has always been in love with you. You’ve known each other since high school and have always had a strong friendship, never caring about unpleasant comments questioning the possibility of a friendship between a man and a woman. Consequently, over time, he fell in love with you more and more each day he spent by your side, but he never confessed, and you never showed that you felt the same because you wanted to hide it at all costs. Jisung was always very popular because of his talents, so you never thought you deserved to date someone as amazing as him.

Time passed, you were both adults, and Jisung ended up debuting as an idol. Even after so many years, he never had the courage to tell you how he felt, so he just suppressed his feelings. After a long time, he got involved with an idol he met during his trainee days. You didn’t know this, as he couldn’t reveal it to the media, but even when he had the opportunity to tell you, he couldn’t muster the courage. Perhaps his deepest feelings held him back.

You were at Jisung's dorm for a movie marathon, taking advantage of his day off. He got up to go to the bathroom, leaving you to choose what you were going to watch. Jisung's phone, which was beside you on the couch, was vibrating desperately. You were never intrusive, but Jisung had never stopped you from touching his things. Thinking it might be one of the boys or even Jisung's staff wanting to warn him about something, you picked up his phone and checked his notifications.

The contact of a woman, with a heart emoji next to her name, lit up the phone screen, with several messages saying she missed him and that she would visit Jisung in his dorm later. You knew you had no right to meddle in Jisung's life, but the fact that he had hidden this from you, even though you were supposedly someone he trusted, hurt you deeply. When he returned, he was confused by the sad expression on your face. “What happened, little one? Are you okay?” He was utterly confused until he noticed his phone in your hands. His expression shifted from concern to irritation in a matter of seconds. “What were you doing?”

“When were you going to tell me, Jisung? Why... I don’t understand. Are you with someone? Why didn’t you tell me? Since when have you become so cowardly as to forget your trust in me?” At this point, you were both standing, staring at each other, your upset expressions obvious. “And since when do I have to give you any explanations, huh?” He didn’t know why he was so angry, but his confused feelings were preventing him from being clear at this moment. “WE’RE FRIENDS, JISUNG! I’m not just anyone you can simply ignore. I care about you too, you idiot.” Despite your raised tone fueled by anger, you tried to explain your feelings, but Jisung just couldn’t hear you at that moment.

“MAYBE IF YOU WEREN’T ACTING LIKE A FANATIC, I COULD HAVE TOLD YOU!” He exploded, gesturing wildly in complete desperation.

Silence. Those three seconds of silence felt like three hours. This chilling silence was broken by your faint sniffles. You raised your hands to hide your tears. Turning away from him, Jisung could tell he felt shattered inside at that moment. Your tears brought him back to his cruel current reality. “Fanatic? I... I’m not a fan of yours, Jisung. To be honest, now I���m just an idiot who trusted you.”

You didn’t bother to grab your jacket; you just ran to the door. As you opened it, you bumped into Jisung's girlfriend. He tried to run after you, but it was already too late. Now, all he could do was cry—not just because of the argument but because the arms that comforted him weren’t the ones he wanted.

𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗¡!

You had been in a relationship for a little over three years. After Felix proposed to you, you both moved to Busan so you could settle into a calm life before getting married. He was a kindergarten teacher, and you opened a small café near the house you were finishing paying off together. You were the typical cute couple, never having serious fights and always being very happy with each other. Even though the life you both dreamed of was almost finally stable and fulfilled, Felix's family didn’t accept the life he was living. Felix was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, so his family expected him to live like an heir prince; however, he chose to live a quiet life with you, which was clearly reason enough for his family to dislike you.

With only a few months left until the wedding, Felix’s father was making his life a living hell, doing everything he could to make Felix give up on you. For this reason, Felix had been depressed for several days. You didn’t know what was going on, and he didn’t want to tell you so you wouldn’t get upset, which left you increasingly worried about his condition. He wasn’t eating properly, woke up many times in the middle of the night, and always got startled when the phone or the doorbell rang.

During a walk you took on weekends, throughout the entire route, you noticed he was hyperventilating, and every time you asked him about it, he would just force a smile and say it was nothing. When you were on the corner heading back home, you finally mustered the courage to question him. “Felix… please, don’t lie to me.” You grabbed his arm, making him stop. He looked back at you, his expression completely exhausted. “Lie about what? I already told you it’s nothing. Please, leave me alone.”

His tone wasn’t angry—it was more tired. He didn’t want to be so rude, but the pressure his father was putting on him had really messed with his mental health. He freed himself from your weak grip, quickly walking home.

After you entered your small and cozy living room, while Felix was taking off his jacket, you stopped in front of him in another attempt to make him talk.

“Don’t you trust me? Felix, I’m not here to judge you. I’m really, sincerely worried about you.”

He just ignored your desperation, going upstairs to the bathroom. You followed him without a second thought, determined to make him speak. “Love, you can count on me! I—”

“COULD YOU PLEASE STOP?! Please, I’m begging you, let me breathe! Just for a moment.”

He stopped at the top of the stairs, making you stop halfway up. You were startled by the look Felix gave you. He had never, ever, yelled at you. You weren’t angry with him, but it did affect you in some way. Before you could say anything else, you just apologized, walking past him and locking yourself in the bedroom.

He immediately rushed to the bedroom door as soon as you entered, his hand hovering over it, wondering if he should knock or not. He rested his forehead right there, finally allowing himself to cry after holding back for days. He really needed this relationship to work.

He couldn’t live without you.

𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍¡!

Seungmin was the ideal partner from your point of view. He was a surgeon and heir to a hospital franchise, and you were a dermatologist from a family of politicians. People always had high expectations of your relationship: from your family and friends to the media, which saw you as a reference. Seungmin wasn’t exactly the temperamental type of man; to be honest, he always preferred to withdraw from problems until things calmed down so he could resolve the situation clearly and organized. However, the course of the days was draining all his patience and usual calm. The hospital was chaotic, and Seungmin’s father was dumping all his frustrations on his son, leaving him stressed.

Your father met with you earlier during a lunch that was apparently a family gathering but turned out to be another ploy for his threats. There were some problems happening in politics, so he needed some distraction for his troubles, and obviously, your marriage would be the perfect target. He wanted you to announce a pregnancy as soon as possible so that the media could focus on you, giving him time to sweep everything under the rug. You didn’t give your father an answer, saying you would think about it. Seungmin was clearly irritated with him but said nothing.

At this moment, you were lying on your bed, finishing reading your book while waiting for Seungmin to finish changing after taking a long hot shower in an attempt to calm himself down… which didn’t exactly work. He sits next to you, so you close your book, looking into his tired and irritated eyes. “babe…”

“Are you really going to keep going with this?” Seungmin interrupts you, his expression neutral. However, behind his eyes, there’s a clear flame of disappointment and a bit of anger. Not at you, but at this moment, he didn’t care to distinguish where it came from. “What do you mean?” you ask, confused. “You no longer live for yourself. Are you really going to keep doing your father’s will?”

“Seungmin, he just wants what’s best for both of us-”

“HE DOESN’T CARE ABOUT YOU! He never cared and won’t in the future. You’re just a means for him to get rid of the media. Are you really that naïve?”

You look at him dumbfounded, feeling not just sadness but pure shock. Deep down, you knew he was right, but his bluntness truly shook you. You don’t hide your tears but say nothing. You just get up, leaving to God knows where, leaving him behind with a heavy heart. “I’m sorry…”

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍¡!

You and Jeongin had been trainees for just over a year. You both started around the same time, so you were relatively close… or almost that. For some unknown reason, Jeongin decided that he would hate you to death. From the first time you performed together, he would look you up and down as if he didn’t want you to breathe in the same space as him. What you didn’t know was that Jeongin was hopelessly in love with you, but since this relationship would never be possible if it depended on the company, he masked his feelings with anger, so you wouldn’t get close to him in any way and make the situation worse for him.

JYP prepared a project, a program aimed at presenting the two groups that would debut: the boy group Stray Kids and the girl group M4ya, the group you were part of. During one of the stages, the proposal was to unite the units of each group, with the objective of exploring their talents. As the main vocal of M4ya, you ended up getting the project alongside Seungmin and Jeongin. In the beginning, you were mostly nervous because you never understood his behavior and were afraid you would end up fighting. You trained together for hours, adjusting your vocals while giving and receiving tips from each other.

It was a very important project, since it would be the first time you were doing something independently, without the help of vocal teachers, just relying on your learned abilities. Seungmin was being a great help to you, since, as you were nervous, your voice wasn’t coming out the way you wanted. Maybe a little insecurity was also clouding your mind, so Seungmin offered to help. At the end of the recordings, you politely bowed, thanking him for his help and effort. When Seungmin left, leaving just you and Jeongin, he rolled his eyes at you while speaking calmly, “It doesn’t surprise me that your voice was failing so much. You look like a chicken in the butcher shop before being sold, you’re shaking so much.” You stared at him, this time tired of his teasing.

“You know, I’ve really been ignoring your behavior the whole time I’ve known you, but I would like to know why you’re like this. I never did anything to you!”

“So you think you’re a saint?” He let out a small, disdainful laugh. “No wonder you’re so snobby.”

“Then tell me, Jeongin! WHY? Why do I deserve so much criticism?” He massaged his temples, his voice was irritated at that moment. “WHY CAN’T YOU STOP BEING SO INSECURE?! So, you need that much validation, huh? Spare me.” He laughed, turning his back while fixing his bag, ready to go to the dorm. However, not long after, he stood frozen in place upon hearing your sniffles. You ran your hand over your face, hiding it from Jeongin. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, but you were too sensitive at that moment.

“You know, Jeongin, I shouldn’t justify myself to you, but I’ve always tried my best to get here, and all I hear in return for my effort is criticism after criticism. So, yes, maybe I am a little insecure girl who doesn’t know where to go without validation, just like you said. Just don’t come any closer, please. Leave me alone.” He was shocked, not having processed the situation. He never thought it could come to this point, and now he was agonizing with hatred, surprisingly, for himself. “I messed up so much now.” He crouched on the floor, running his hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to contain his tears of pure frustration.

ε ї з — like × reblog! by: @hyunjinners ❜ɞ

ε ї з — taglist: @oc3anfloor @apple-kiwi

[alotofpockets]

What will they say? | Steph Catley x McCabe!Reader

5k celebration prompt: “I don’t care what they say, I want to be with you.”

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k

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To the world, Steph Catley was your best friend. To those close to you, Steph Catley was your girlfriend.

It had been easy to keep your relationship with Steph away from the public in the beginning. Only the people closest to you knew that the two of you were more than just best friends for the past year. Since you had already been best friends before getting together no one really questioned the two of you being close.

Recently though, more and more often you found yourself yearning to be closer to her when you were in public. When your hands would brush against hers, you wanted to reach out and intertwine your hands. When you got lost in her eyes, and on instinct you would lean in to kiss her, only to realise you were in public, and having to pull away like nothing had happened.

The internal struggle of what you wanted often messes with your head. Steph had been incredible. She has always been very understanding, she understood your reasoning, and always supported you. You felt so lucky with her by your side.

The reason you had wanted to keep your relationship outside of the public was because of your sister. Not Katie directly, she was very supportive of your relationship, and had been one of the first people you told about it. It was about the public's deception.

Ever since you were little, you had been compared to your older sister Katie. She only had two years on you, but every accomplishment you achieved with football, it always came with a mention of Katie.

While football had been something you had grown up playing together, a passion that started at a young age, everyone always saw it as wanting to copy her. Katie had for sure been a role model for you, because she was carving the path the two of you had dreamt of as little girls.

But because of those two years she had on you, she got everywhere just a step earlier than you. At first it was just parents of other kids from the club you were playing at, but as your careers grew, so did the audience that compared you to her.

It started on a much bigger scale when you made it to the senior squad for Ireland. Playing alongside Katie again like when you were younger. You loved being able to share your love for the game with her on the same pitch. But all the media seemed to focus on was how you were Katie’s little sister.

Katie’s little sister who made it to the team.

Katie’s little sister who made her debut.

Katie’s little sister who scored the game winning goal.

Katie’s little sister who made it into the starting line-up.

Being Katie’s little sister followed you everywhere. To the public it didn’t seem to matter that you had started playing football the same year as each other. Katie was older, so you were always walking in her footsteps according to them.

Then on club level you were loaned out to Arsenal. While the fanbase had been amazing, the media started up again about you following your sister. Even when you had such an amazing season at Arsenal that they paid your transfer fee to have you on their team for real. They focussed on you wanting to be with Katie instead of the way you had performed for the club.

By now you were used to your career always being linked to Katie. What you didn’t want was for them to also link your relationship to her.

The fans had been all over her relationship with Caitlin. An Arsenal teammate and Australian. When you started seeing Steph you knew that they would once again compare you to your sister. Dating an Arsenal teammate and Australian.

Falling for Steph had nothing to do with Katie, and you didn’t want to give the public the opportunity to compare. You didn’t want that for yourself, but definitely not for Steph. Steph knew of your struggles with the public comparing your career to Katie, and had always been there to support you.

Steph had always supported your decision, but there were moments where she would check what the limits were. What could they do and still have the public thinking they were just best friends. This time it might cross that limit though. Still she wanted to check with you.

She shifted closer, her voice laced with both hesitation and hope. “How would you feel about being my date to Em’s wedding? I know it’s pretty out there to fly to Australia just for their wedding, but I’d love to have you by my side.”

You loved the idea of being Steph’s date to something as romantic as a wedding, but your thoughts instantly went to what the public would think.

“I’d love nothing more,” you admitted, your words faltering as doubt crept in. “But what will they say?” Steph’s expression softened, her hope shining through as she leaned closer. You start fidgeting with your ring, a nervous habit Steph knew well. “I don’t care what they say,” she said softly, her hand covering yours to still your nervous movements. “I want to be with you. It’s like you said the other day—they’ve taken enough already.”

You nodded slowly, tears pricking at your eyes. “You’re right. They’ve taken enough already." Steph gaze lingered on yours, the weight of her hope warming your cheeks. “Is that a yes?”

A small, trembling laugh escaped you as you wiped at your eyes. “Yes, I will be your date to the wedding. You’re right, they have taken enough already. I hate having to hide us. I want to be with you and I don't care about what they will say. As long as I have you by my side, they can say what they want.”

Steph's words stayed with you, giving you the courage to take the first step toward letting go of the fear that had followed you for so long. Agreeing to be her date to the wedding felt like a turning point—an unspoken promise that you were ready to stop letting the public’s perception dictate your happiness.

So when December came, you flew out to Melbourne with her to spend Christmas with her family, and be her date to Emily’s wedding after that.

When your family shared their Christmas pictures online, speculation about your whereabouts started instantly. Katie had posted about going to Australia with Caitlin, but you had kept your plans in the dark. The speculations were starting to get to you, so you decided to not go onto your socials for the duration of your stay. Staying away from the internet and spending time with your loved ones was exactly what you needed.

Without your knowledge, the speculation had kept going. It wasn’t until everyone that attended the wedding started posting pictures and videos of the wedding that the speculations stopped. You and Steph were in them, whether it was in the background or foreground. You and Steph, as well as everyone else there, had given the all clear to post whatever pictures you wanted.

On your trip, you and Steph had a deep conversation about what you wanted. Resulting in no longer wanting to hide your relationship. Neither one of you felt the need to address your relationship to the public, but you weren’t going to hold back any parts of it anymore.

It had started with letting everyone know that they could post whatever pictures the two of you were in from the wedding, and you even dedicated a post about it yourself.

Steph sat with you on the couch as you got your post ready. An encouraging hand on your leg, with her thumb rubbing soft strokes over it. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, as your finger lingered above the post button.

Your eyes connected with Steph’s. She could see your nerves in them, so she turned her hand around and waited for you to lay your hand in hers. “Whenever you’re ready.” She said with a soft squeeze to your hand.

Her reassurance was all you needed to lower your thumb and press send. You nervously watched your phone for the response.

Fans were quick to see the post for what it was and your comments started flooding with their excitement for another woso couple, as well as your friends, family and teammates sending their love your way.

You smiled at all of the positivity, and knew that with their support it wouldn’t matter what the journalists would make of it. Their love, and most importantly Steph’s, was all that you needed.

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y/n_y/l/n just posted

y/n_y/l/n: what a beautiful day to celebrate the Van Egmonds 🤍💍

Load more comments

katie_mccabe11: My sister 🔥🔥

wosofan1: aah I knew it!! Did we give them a shipname already?

stephcatley: ❤️

wosofan2: you're seeing what i'm seeing right??

↳ wosofan3: HARD LAUNCH SEASON

laurynmccabe11: Looking good!!

alannakennedy: I swear I was on that couch too

↳ caitlinfoord: Me too

↳ alannakennedy: at least you made the post

↳ mackenziearnold: ha suckers!

deniseosullivan10: 💚💚

sharonmccabe12373: My girls ❤️

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[sai-int]

hello! i was wondering if you could either write about mainly soap (or the whole TF-141) finding out you’re pregnant and what they would be like all throughout the 9 months. It could either be head cannons or a fic, whatever you prefer 🤗

i tried to find fics about it but i can find barely any 😞

i tried to fight the poly!141 x reader demons, but i couldn't

cw: poly!141 x reader, pregnancy stuff, implied fem/afab!reader, (use of mom), no, it doesn't matter who's kid it is.

finding out....

johnny is the first to react when you tell them the news. he's stunned silent for a split second before breaking into a wide grin and laughing. “we’re havin’ a bairn?” he pulls you into his arms, twirling you around despite your protests. “this is amazin’! we're gonna be parents!”

he's immediately excited, though slightly panicked. “wait…what do we need tae do? do we start buyin’ things? are we ready for this?” he's practically already nesting.

simon doesn’t say much at first. his gaze shifts between you and the others before he lets out a quiet, “well, that’s somethin' new."

in truth, he didn't know how to handle this information. his trauma left him scarred and terrified of the idea of parenting, but after some thought, he’ll find you alone and murmur, “y'gonna be great at this, lovie. we all will.” It’s one of the rare times he lets his emotions show.

kyle reacts with a mix of shock and excitement. “wait, wait—are we serious? this is real?” when you nod, he breaks into a wide smile, pulling you into a hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“this is amazing. you're gonna be a great mom, doll. we'll figure it out together.”

john's reaction is steady but warm. he gives you a soft smile and kisses the top of your head. “looks like our family’s getting a little bigger.”

he's calm and reassuring, already thinking about what this means for the team and how they’ll support you in the months ahead.

first trimester...

johnny's bouncing off the walls, thrilled about the news but hilariously overprotective. he refuses to let you lift anything heavier than a water bottle and constantly asks how you’re feeling.

“ye need anythin’? a pillow? water? more snacks?” you'll have to reassure him a hundred times a day that you’re fine.

he's also immediately obsessed with baby gear, sending you links to cribs, strollers, and onesies with ridiculous captions like, “look at this wee one—it’s got ducks on it!”

simon is less overtly excited but becomes quietly attentive. he starts keeping track of your cravings and your mood swings, making sure the others don’t overwhelm you too much.

if you’re feeling nauseous, he’ll silently sit with you, rubbing small circles on your back. he's not one for grand gestures, but his steady presence is comforting.

he's also the one who subtly puts his foot down when johnny starts suggesting that the kid'll be named “soap junior.”

kyle is practical but sweet, always checking in with you and making sure you’re eating enough. “don't forget to take your vitamins. and let me know if you need me to grab anything.”

he's fascinated by the changes in your body, always asking questions. “is it weird? like, do you feel different already?” he's genuinely curious and wants to understand every part of the process. not to mention the fact this his eyes refuse to leave your stomach once you start showing.

john keeps the everyone grounded. when the others (cough—johnny—cough) start fussing too much, he steps in. “give her some space. she's not made of glass.”

second trimester...

by now, johnny's even more excited, especially when the baby starts moving. he insists on feeling every kick and might even get a little competitive with the others. “aye, th' bairn kicked fur me first, didn’t it?”

he starts talking to your belly in gaelic. no one knows that he's saying but kyle has a hunch that he's praying.

simon is more engaged now, though still subtle. he'll casually start doing the more practical things like baby-proofing or arranging for a larger living space.

he secretly reads up on pregnancy and parenthood, though he’ll never admit it. you catch him once, and he grumbles, “just making sure we’re prepared.” but you know it's for his own sake.

kyle takes the role of “baby planner” seriously, organizing everything from nursery ideas to potential schedules for when the baby arrives. he's also the one to encourage you to take care of yourself.

“you're doing amazing, love. just let us handle the rest, yeah?” he's always ready with a shoulder rub or a cup of tea when you need it.

john really begins to hone his 'dad energy'. he ensures you’re not overexerting yourself and keeps everyone focused. he starts sharing stories about his own experiences with kids, whether it’s nieces, nephews, or friends’ children, to reassure you. he holds your hand on the days when you're feeling a bit off, offering a warm embrace for you to melt in.

third trimester...

johnny is on defcon 1. he's counting down the seconds and trying to distract himself with building the crib (badly) and then taking it down, just to reassemble it. or assembling strollers. “don't worry, love, i've got this… where’s the instruction manual?”

he's constantly doting on you, rubbing your calves and back or carrying things for you. “you're a goddess, y’know that? absolutely goddess.”

simon becomes even more protective. the parenthood book he'd been reading mentioned having a mhospital bag' for when the time comes. when your third trimester comes, he's prepping, making sure a bag is packed and everything’s ready to go when the time comes. “better t'be prepared than scramblin' last minute.”

kyle is the calmest of the bunch, which makes him your go-to when you’re feeling overwhelmed. he's always ready to lend an ear or a helping hand.

"you're not doing this alone.” he'd mumble to you while drawing soft circles on your skin. his steady reassurance keeps everyone else from spiraling into chaos, as well.

d-day...

it starts with you waking up in the middle of the night, a sharp cramp making you wince. you sit up, trying to brush it off, but another contraction hits, and it’s unmistakable: the baby is coming.

johnny is the first one you wake up. he's immediately wide-eyed and panicking. “wait, this is it? this is actually it?” he's scrambling to find his boots, yelling down the hall for the others, and tripping over his own feet in his rush.

simon appears a moment later, calm but laser-focused. “time the contractions,” he says, already grabbing the hospital bag he prepared weeks ago. he gently helps you to your feet, his hand steady on your lower back to support you.

kyle's ushering you to sit down (as simon tries to shove him off) and asking practical questions. “how far apart are they? are you feeling okay? deep breaths, love.” he's already calling ahead to the hospital to let them know you’re on your way.

john takes charge of the logistics. he's already in the car and heating it up. “let's move, lads. we're trained for chaos; this is no different.” his voice is firm, but his eyes are filled with concern as he checks on you.

the ride is chaotic, to say the least. johnny insists on sitting in the backseat with you, holding your hand and offering completely and entirely unhelpful but enthusiastic encouragement.

"you’re doin’ amazing, lass. just breathe! In and out, aye? we're almost there!”

"i'm going into labor, i didn't forget how to fucking breathe, johnny!" this is starting to feel like the worst period cramps of your life.

kyle is the one actually timing your contractions and giving johnny side-eyes every time he gets too loud. “you're not the one in labor, soap. chill.”

under any other circumstance, simon would not be allowed to drive. not even around the block. tonight though? he drives like a man on a mission. he's cutting through traffic like a getaway driver with 50k in the trunk. he barely says a word nd his jaw is clenched tight, his knuckles are white on the wheel. when you let out a particularly loud groan, he mutters, “we're almost there. hang on.”

john rides shotgun, barking out directions to simon and giving you steady updates. “you're doing great, dove. just focus on breathing. we'll be there in five.”

the team storms the hospital like it's a raid. john carries you inside while johnny frantically explains to the nurses, barely coherent in his excitement. “she's havin’ th' bairn! right now!”

when they wheel you into the delivery room, johnny is by your side, holding your hand like his life depends on it. he's grinning and panicking simultaneously. “yer incredible, love. just a bit more. ye've got this!”

simon stands beside you and smooths your hair out of your face, placing a hand on your shoulder during every contraction. he can tell you're a little scared. “one at a time. you're stronger than this.” his presence feels like a rock in the storm.

kyle makes sure you’re comfortable and liaising with the medical team. “she likes ice chips, not water,” he tells a nurse, even as he offers you his hand. “you're amazing. we're so proud of you, hun."

john is the unshakable anchor, standing at the foot of the bed, his voice steady and calm. “that's it. just like that. one more push.” he doesn’t waver for a second, even when you're literally howling in pain.

when the baby’s first cries fill the room, everything changes.

johnny lets out an actual cheer, tears streaming down his face. “we did it! we've got a bairn!” he's laughing, crying, and probably squeezing your hand too hard.

simon doesn’t say a word, all shock and awe, but when the nurse places the baby in your arms, his eyes soften in a way you’ve never seen before. He murmurs, “it's perfect,” his voice breaking slightly.

kyle cuts the cord with a shaky laugh, grinning ear-to-ear. “welcome to the world, little one.” he presses a kiss to your temple, his joy radiant.

john is last to hold the baby, cradling it in his large, steady hands. “you've done so well, love... I'm so proud of you.” his voice is thick with unshed tears and pride as he hands the baby back to you.

the night ends with a baby nestled in your arms and your family surrounding you. a chaotic, loving, perfectly imperfect family.

mlist