#i would read more in this universe though!

[embbarnes]

This took me so long I'm so sorryyyyy. I meant to do this like, last week. I've just been busy prepping for my new addition lol.

I adored this one, you did such a good job writing him and I think this is one of my fav Logan fics from you!

Like always my thoughts and such are below the cut ~

He hates how commercialized the holiday is thanks to the multi-billion dollar corporations that fill department stores with trinkets the second that Christmas is over. He hates all of the pressure and unrealistic expectations that come with planning the perfect date. And as much as he hates to admit it to himself, he hates that it's a stark reminder that he's just as alone in this universe as he had been in the last one.

My first thought was yes, I feel this hard.

He'd never admit it aloud, but just maybe the fact that he can’t keep his thoughts from straying to a specific next door neighbor certainly doesn’t help. He hates to use the word crush at his grown age, but he can’t really think of a better word for it. If it’s not a crush, why else would he be wondering what your plans are for this evening? Why else would he feel the unmistakable, undeniable twinge of jealousy when he thinks of the mere possibility of you spending your night in the arms of someone other than him?

I love a jealous Logan. I love the neighbor trope so much too, it was one I never really thought about until reading your fics.

“Oh, no. Not a date,” you correct him quickly with a bashful grin. “Well, maybe. Is it considered a date if I’m dining by myself?” “You’re going to dinner by yourself?” Logan asks, unable to hide the surprise in his tone. “Looking like that?”

Ay ay ay...Logan, don't judge. Sometimes it's nice to go out and treat yourself

All it takes is one look at the table that the host takes the two of you to for Logan to realize that he has indeed never had Korean barbecue. You don’t appear to be the slightest bit confused so he assumes that the circular grill built into the middle of the table is normal, though he’s never seen anything quite like it in a restaurant before. You giggle when you notice the curious expression on his face. “It’s kinda like hibachi,” you begin. “Except instead of someone cooking it in front of you, you cook it yourself.” Logan takes in the array of various meats on the tray to the left of him. You pick up a piece of what appears to be some kind of beef with a pair of tongs, and place it on the grill. It sizzles, and he watches as you add a few more pieces of meat onto the hot surface. “Isn’t that kinda the whole point of going to a restaurant? To have someone else cook the food for you?” He asks the question as gently as he can, not wanting to hurt your feelings. He’s just happy to be here with you – even if he doesn’t fully understand the appeal of going to a restaurant to pay to cook your own food.

I've never been to a place like this or had Korean bbq at all and my first thought was the same as his, but I've always wanted to try it lol.

“Last week, when we got stuck in the elevator together,” you begin in a low voice. He swears that your eyes flicker to his lips for a split second before meeting his gaze once more. “Were you nervous?”

She's better than me I'd NEVER work myself to ask him this lmaoo

“Do you wanna come up to my place?” you breathe, nodding your head in the direction of the apartment building. “What? You don’t wanna come to mine and hang out with Al?” he teases, nudging you in the direction of the building’s entrance. “As tempting as that sounds…” You trail off, following his lead. The second that the elevator door comes to a close, his hands are back on you. He backs you up against the wall, his hands gripping your hips as you spread your legs enough to allow one of his thick thighs in between them. This time, he’s the one who kisses you, wasting no time in slipping his tongue between your lips. You whimper into the kiss, your tongue fighting his for dominance.

Yesss this is what I was waiting for! She's so playful lol and he's a big ol' tease.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you groan. “Not this again.”

No no...this is good.

There’s a mischievous look on your face. Before he can question you, you’re sliding down the wall until you reach the floor. You reach for his belt with your hands, making quick work of undoing the buckle and then the button to his jeans. Oh. All Logan can do is stare down at you in wonderment as you tug his zipper down. “This okay with you?” you ask, but the look on your face says that you already know the answer.

This okay with you - girl, he's about to bust rn. He's def okay with this lol

Later, he tells himself. He’ll get you naked later, in the privacy of your apartment, where there’s no risk of the elevator doors sliding open at any given moment.

A gentleman, don't argue w me.

Your cunt tastes as sweet as the fruity wine from the restaurant did on your tongue. He eats you like he wants to get drunk off of you, alternating between soft licks through your folds and fervent kisses to your swollen bud. He feels your legs quiver around the sides of his head. He supports you from below, letting you go all but limp above him. He glances up at you, your head thrown back in pleasure and your chest heaving with ragged breaths.

He is diving in there 😩 Grab his hair and tug -

“Do you.. wanna wait until we get back to your..?” “God, no,” you exhale, and pull him to you by grabbing his flannel in your fists.

LMAO same girl 😭

“Mind if I still come back to your place? I know we just…” He trails off, glancing down at where he’s still tucked inside you. “But I just realized I forgot to pick up cigarettes for Al and she isn’t gonna be too happy with me.” You roll your eyes, and playfully push him away from you so that you can tug your skirt back into place. “I think I can find a way to be okay with that,” you smirk. “If we ever get out of this fuckin’ elevator.”

This ending was so hilarious too I absolutely loved it from start to finish. The fin little moments and the build up, the smut scene was HOT and the funny little quips added into the fic were MUAH. You did sooo good with this one ~ 💕💕💕

either way, i'm going your way

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4k

summary: logan doesn't remember the last time he celebrated valentine's day, and he doesn't have any reason to believe that this year will be any different. then he runs into you, wade's neighbor, who happens to love the holiday despite not having anyone to celebrate it with.

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, sex in a public place kind of, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected p in v, logan's pov, neighbor!reader, reader is afab, reader is described as being shorter than logan, no use of y/n, hints of grumpy x sunshine

this is my entry for @yxtkiwiyxt & @lubdubology valentine's writing challenge! thank you both for hosting this, i can't wait to read the other submissions ❤️

logan howlett masterlist

Logan has been alive for two centuries worth of Valentine's Days. He can count on one hand how many he’s actually celebrated, and he can't recall the last time he had a reason to even acknowledge the day.

To him, Valentine’s Days have always been just another Tuesday, or Thursday, or whatever day it falls on that year.

He hates how commercialized the holiday is thanks to the multi-billion dollar corporations that fill department stores with trinkets the second that Christmas is over. He hates all of the pressure and unrealistic expectations that come with planning the perfect date. And as much as he hates to admit it to himself, he hates that it's a stark reminder that he's just as alone in this universe as he had been in the last one.

Technically he can't say that he's entirely alone. Romantically? Yes. Sexually? Yes.

Physically, however, he’s lodged between a blind eighty-year-old cocaine addict and a ten pound living tumor - the latter of whom keeps trying to French kiss him.

Wade might be out with Vanessa for Valentine’s Day, but for Logan, this is any other Friday night – watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire reruns with Al and Mary Puppins.

Something about his current predicament makes him feel even more alone than if he actually were alone. Maybe it’s how unfamiliar and foreign this universe still feels in so many ways – he’s been here for some months now, but there’s some things that remind him that he still has a ways to go in terms of adjustment.

He'd never admit it aloud, but just maybe the fact that he can’t keep his thoughts from straying to a specific next door neighbor certainly doesn’t help. He hates to use the word crush at his grown age, but he can’t really think of a better word for it. If it’s not a crush, why else would he be wondering what your plans are for this evening? Why else would he feel the unmistakable, undeniable twinge of jealousy when he thinks of the mere possibility of you spending your night in the arms of someone other than him?

He has no one to blame but himself, and he knows it. He had the perfect opportunity to ask you out just last week, and he didn’t take it. The two of you were both taking the elevator up to your neighboring apartments when it broke down for the third fucking time in the last month. It took nearly an hour for maintenance to get it back up and running, and he couldn’t find the nerve to simply ask if you have any plans at any point during the time you were trapped in the fifteen square feet of space together. Instead, he awkwardly rambled about he had walked in on Wade and Vanessa in a compromising position the day before.

He cringes at the memory, tossing back another swig of whiskey when he realizes the bottle is empty. He sighs, earning a side-eye from Mary Puppins.

If this is how he’s going to be spending his evening, he should at least be a little intoxicated.

“I’m going to the liquor store,” Logan announces as he transfers Mary Puppins from his lap to Al’s before standing up from his position on the couch for the first time in hours. “You need anything?”

“Pick me up a couple of scratchers and a pack of Newports.”

Just her usual requests, then.

Logan throws on his leather jacket, dreading the cold and dreary February night but willing to face it for a bottle of bourbon and some cigars. He’s been out of those since yesterday, so a trip to the nearest convenience store is much needed, anyway.

The door to the apartment complex’s singular outdated elevator is sliding to a close when Logan hears a familiar, feminine voice call out.

“Hold up!”

Logan immediately pushes the hold button, freezing the door in place. A second later, you appear in the doorframe. You’re slightly out of breath, with a relieved expression on your face.

“Thanks,” you greet him as you lean against the wall of the elevator, smoothing your hands over the fabric of your plaid skirt. “I’m running late to my dinner reservations and really didn’t wanna have to take the stairs in these.” You glance down at the heels of the uncomfortable looking thigh high boots that you’re wearing.

Uncomfortable looking and hot, he thinks, before your words sink in. Dinner reservations – of course you’d have plans tonight. He feels a slight pang of disappointment (and jealousy, if he’s being honest with himself) at the realization, but he isn’t surprised.

“Well, let’s cross our fingers that we don’t get stuck in here again and that you make it to your date on time,” Logan says with a forced laugh and smile as he pushes the button once again to close the door, followed by the button that says lobby.

“Oh, no. Not a date,” you correct him quickly with a bashful grin. “Well, maybe. Is it considered a date if I’m dining by myself?”

“You’re going to dinner by yourself?” Logan asks, unable to hide the surprise in his tone. “Looking like that?”

Your eyes widen in shock. “What’s wrong with how I look? And what’s wrong with going to dinner by myself?”

“Nothing!” Logan begins to backtrack when he realizes how his questions came across. “You - you look great. I'm just a little surprised. Would’ve assumed that you had a date tonight is all—”

He trails off when he realizes that you’re pursing your lips together in an obvious attempt to hide a smirk. The mischievous glimmer in your eyes gives you away.

“I’m just fucking with you, Logan,” you snort with a playful slap to his arm. “I know it’s a little unconventional to take yourself out on Valentine’s Day. But I’ve always loved the holiday despite being painfully single, so I thought why not? Better than sitting at home and sulking all night.”

The corners of his lips threaten to twitch upwards at the words painfully single as he contemplates the rest of your response. He can’t help but admire your way of thinking. He was content with staying holed up inside the apartment and drinking himself into a stupor, but he can’t deny that your outlook on the holiday is far less depressing and boring than his.

“What about you?” you ask as the elevator comes to a stop with a melodic ding. You exit, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Are you on your way to your Valentine’s plans?”

He chuckles at the question. For a second, he considers lying to you. He considers telling you that yes, he is on his way to pick up his date right now, just so he doesn’t have to tell you the truth – that he’s on his way to buy bourbon, cancer sticks, and lottery tickets for him and his elderly roommate. But with his luck, you’d run into Wade tomorrow and he’d open his big fucking mouth about how Logan actually spent his night, and the thought of that is even more mortifying than telling you the truth to your face.

“Not unless you count making a liquor run as Valentine’s plans,” he sighs, averting your gaze as he opens the door to the apartment building for you. “The only thing I plan on doing tonight is listen to Althea scream at her game shows.”

You come to a stop outside of the apartment building, wrapping your coat tightly around your chest to fight off the chilly night air. There’s a peculiar look on your face that Logan can’t quite read – something between amusement and hesitation.

“You could have worse dates, I suppose,” you laugh.

“That’s true,” Logan agrees. “At least I have Vanessa to thank for a Wade free evening. But I’ll let you go, don’t wanna make you late for your—”

“Do you like Korean barbecue?”

Logan freezes, taken aback by the question. He snaps his mouth shut, realizing he’s staring at you like a deer in the headlights.

“Korean barbecue?” He asks lamely. “Don’t think I’ve ever tried it.”

He’s had barbecue. He’s had Korean food.. maybe? He’s been alive a really long time, he’s sure he’s had Korean food at some point in the last two hundred years.

But he can’t say that he’s had Korean barbecue.

A nervous looking grin appears on your face, and you cross your arms over your chest before taking a small step towards him.

“Are you hungry?”

••••••

All it takes is one look at the table that the host takes the two of you to for Logan to realize that he has indeed never had Korean barbecue.

You don’t appear to be the slightest bit confused so he assumes that the circular grill built into the middle of the table is normal, though he’s never seen anything quite like it in a restaurant before.

You giggle when you notice the curious expression on his face.

“It’s kinda like hibachi,” you begin. “Except instead of someone cooking it in front of you, you cook it yourself.”

Logan takes in the array of various meats on the tray to the left of him. You pick up a piece of what appears to be some kind of beef with a pair of tongs, and place it on the grill. It sizzles, and he watches as you add a few more pieces of meat onto the hot surface.

“Isn’t that kinda the whole point of going to a restaurant? To have someone else cook the food for you?” He asks the question as gently as he can, not wanting to hurt your feelings. He’s just happy to be here with you – even if he doesn’t fully understand the appeal of going to a restaurant to pay to cook your own food.

“It’s about the experience,” you explain with a shrug. “To be fair, when most people come to a Korean barbecue restaurant, they usually come with a group of people – hence the large amount of meat.” You nod towards the arrangement of the meats that have yet to be cooked.

“It’s a social thing. But all of my friends had plans with their significant others tonight, so…”

You trail off as the server places another tray on the table – this one covered in various colorful side dishes that he’s definitely never had before. He wouldn’t exactly describe himself as adventurous when it comes to trying new foods – for the most part, he lives off of ham and cheese sandwiches and frozen TV dinners. But he tried shawarma when he’d first arrived in this universe and ended up loving it, so he’s determined to try a bite of everything on this table.

“Sounds like it’s a good thing that you ran into me, then,” Logan murmurs when the server walks off.

You take your eyes off of the pieces of meat that you’re paying careful attention not to overcook, looking up at him through your lashes with a soft smile.

“I'd say that you’re right about that.”

••••••

Despite the breeze and the chilly night air, Logan feels perfectly toasty on the walk back to the apartment thanks to your tight hold on his arm and the wine that you had insisted that he try.

He'd learned a lot tonight – a lot about you; your hobbies and your interests. He’d learned all about Korean barbecue, and that he likes bulgogi and buldak.

Most importantly, he'd learned that he was stupid for ever being nervous about asking you out.

He feels at ease with you. He already knew he enjoys your company from all of the times that you’ve joined Wade’s movie nights and get-togethers – but he’d never been alone with you (with the exception of getting stuck in the elevator with you last week). Wade, Vanessa, Al, Peter, Yukio, and countless others always seemed to be present, making it near impossible for him to get to know you in the way that he’s wanted to since he first met you.

But now, with your arm intertwined with his and the scent of your perfume hitting him each time there is a gust of air, he knows that he is going to do all that he can to keep having moments like this with you.

“I have a question,” you state as the two of you turn onto the street where your apartment building is. Logan glances down at you in curiosity, but you’re not looking at him – you’re looking ahead, your teeth biting into your lower lip.

“What’s that?” Logan murmurs.

You hesitate, your eyes flickering up to him before quickly looking away again. “Did you actually like the kimchi?”

Logan can’t help but cackle, taken off guard by the question.

“That’s your question?” he laughs, thinking back to the spicy and tangy flavor of the fermented vegetables.

You come to a stop next to a streetlight outside of your apartment building, pulling your arm away from his to stand just inches in front of him.

“No,” you admit with a smirk. “Though I am curious about that, too.” You take a step closer to him, your chest ever so slightly brushing against his. He feels his breath catch in his throat at the way that your eyes twinkle in the glow of the streetlight.

“Last week, when we got stuck in the elevator together,” you begin in a low voice. He swears that your eyes flicker to his lips for a split second before meeting his gaze once more. “Were you nervous?”

He thinks back to his nervous rambling in the elevator, to how you looked so pretty that he found it difficult to hold direct eye contact with you, and to how it felt like half of his brain was screaming at him to ask you out and the other half was screaming at him to not make himself look like an idiot.

Yeah, nervous is accurate.

“That obvious, huh?” he sighs.

“Just a little,” you shrug. “But don’t worry. I was too.”

“Is that right?” Logan asks, trying not to give away just how happy the confession makes him. “And what about now?”

He doesn’t have to ask – he's standing close enough to you that your increased heartrate is easy for him to detect.

“Something like that,” you whisper, and before he fully process what’s happening, you’re raising up on your tippy toes to capture his lips in yours.

The taste of the fruity wine from dinner still lingers on your lips. He places his hands on the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. Your hands cradle his face, pulling him down closer to you. The warmth of you is a balm against the brisk night air, making him feel like he can’t get close enough to you. You don’t pull away until you’re breathless, looking up at him with dilated pupils in the florescent street lighting.

“Do you wanna come up to my place?” you breathe, nodding your head in the direction of the apartment building.

“What? You don’t wanna come to mine and hang out with Al?” he teases, nudging you in the direction of the building’s entrance.

“As tempting as that sounds…” You trail off, following his lead.

The second that the elevator door comes to a close, his hands are back on you. He backs you up against the wall, his hands gripping your hips as you spread your legs enough to allow one of his thick thighs in between them. This time, he’s the one who kisses you, wasting no time in slipping his tongue between your lips. You whimper into the kiss, your tongue fighting his for dominance.

It isn’t until he pulls away for air and opens his eyes that he realizes the elevator has come to a stop. It couldn’t have been moving for more than ten seconds –

“Fuckin’ hell,” you groan. “Not this again.”

Logan looks at the panel of buttons to his left. Sure enough, the number reads that you’re still a floor beneath your apartments. He beats his fist against the elevator wall, as if that’s actually going to help the matter.

Still pinned between his body and the wall, you pull your cell phone out from an interior pocket of your coat. You quickly find the number for building maintenance in your call history, but it just rings, and rings, and rings.

“I could probably pry the doors open,” Logan muses as he begins to pull away from you. He thinks back to how it took maintenance nearly an hour to get the elevator back up and running last week, and knows that he wouldn’t have the patience for that now. The thought of having to wait even a fraction of that long to get back to your apartment…

“Let’s not do anything that could potentially put the elevator out of commission permanently, yeah?” You pull him back to you, grabbing his face in your hand and making him look at you. “I think that we'll be just fine right here for a while.”

There’s a mischievous look on your face. Before he can question you, you’re sliding down the wall until you reach the floor. You reach for his belt with your hands, making quick work of undoing the buckle and then the button to his jeans.

Oh.

All Logan can do is stare down at you in wonderment as you tug his zipper down.

“This okay with you?” you ask, but the look on your face says that you already know the answer.

He nods, his mouth suddenly feeling too dry to speak. He helps you shimmy his boxers and jeans down enough for his cock to spring free. He glances around the elevator, double checking that there aren’t any security cameras. Considering this elevator is ancient and doesn’t even function half the time, he isn’t surprised to see that there aren’t any.

You take the base of him in your hand, languidly massaging the length as you tease his slit with your tongue. You lap up the beads of pre-cum before easing him past your lips.

The sight of you on your knees for him is enough to have him twitching in your mouth. Add in how your soft lips and tongue feel working his length, and he knows he won’t last long like this.

You bob your head around him, gagging when his head juts against the back of your throat. You pull off of him, leaving a thick rope of saliva that trails from his cock to your mouth.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything prettier. He could spend hours looking at you like this.

But this isn’t how he wants to finish – in your mouth, before he’s even had a chance to make you feel good. So as much as it nearly kills him to do it, he pulls himself away from your sweet lips and yanks you back up by the tops of your arms. There’s the slightest hint of disappointment on your face, but it quickly disappears when he pushes your coat off of your shoulders and down your arms. It falls to floor, leaving you in still too many articles of clothing for Logan’s liking.

Later, he tells himself. He’ll get you naked later, in the privacy of your apartment, where there’s no risk of the elevator doors sliding open at any given moment.

For now, he settles for pushing the restrictive fabric of your skirt upwards, bunching it around your waist. He sinks to the ground in front of you, splaying his palms on your inner thighs and spreading your legs open for him. He rubs the pad of his thumb over the soft material of your panties, right over your clit. He feels shudder at the sensation, and notices the goosebumps that appear on the skin of your thighs.

He hooks his index finger through the cotton fabric, pulling it to the side. He looks up to see if there’s any kind of hesitation on your face, but you quickly pull him to your center by the back of his head, erasing any doubt. He chuckles lowly, and flattens his tongue over your slit.

Your cunt tastes as sweet as the fruity wine from the restaurant did on your tongue. He eats you like he wants to get drunk off of you, alternating between soft licks through your folds and fervent kisses to your swollen bud.

He feels your legs quiver around the sides of his head. He supports you from below, letting you go all but limp above him. He glances up at you, your head thrown back in pleasure and your chest heaving with ragged breaths.

His name slips through your lips, your voice strained with desperation. He loves the sound of it, and wants more than anything to hear you keep saying it. He snakes one of his hands between your thighs, and teases your hole with the tip 9t his finger. You involuntarily sink down, nudging the tip of it past your entrance.

He groans against your clit at how fucking tight you feel around his finger. God, he can’t wait to be inside you. He pumps the digit, your walls already clenching around him.

“Logan,” you moan from above him. “I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he hums against your clit. “Let go. I got you.”

Your climax washes over you with a sharp cry of his name and Logan mentally prays that the elevator walls aren’t as thin as the apartment walls.

When you go still above him, he reluctantly takes his mouth off of you and stands up. His jeans and boxers are still bunched just above his knees, his erection painfully hard and his balls full. He wipes the excess of your slick from his mouth with the back of his hand, and then begins to stroke his own length in his fist.

“Do you.. wanna wait until we get back to your..?”

“God, no,” you exhale, and pull him to you by grabbing his flannel in your fists.

His lips crash against yours as he nestles himself in between your legs, teasing your slit with the head of his cock. He coats it in your juices and eases into you slowly. You groan into his mouth and he has to try not to cum on the spot.

You’re tight, and warm, and your walls flutter around him just right. He hikes one of your thighs over his hip, deepening the angle before he pulls almost all the way out. He rocks back into you, working up to a steady pace.

The small, confined space is filled with the sound of your body meeting his and the sweet noises you make that are music to his ears. You grip around him like a velvet vice and he knows that he isn't going to last long.

“Gonna cum, honey,” he warns in a grunt next to your ear. “Ya feel too fuckin’ good.”

He feels your walls pulse around him at his words and he can tell that you're just as close as he is. A few more deep thrusts that hit your cervix just right and he’s spilling into you as you cum around him.

When he’s empty, his movements cease but he doesn’t pull out. He nuzzles his face against your throat, pressing kisses to the soft but sweat-slicked skin.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to us,” you murmur in a borderline delirious voice. He laughs, pulling back just enough to press his lips to yours.

“Mind if I still come back to your place? I know we just…” He trails off, glancing down at where he’s still tucked inside you. “But I just realized I forgot to pick up cigarettes for Al and she isn’t gonna be too happy with me.”

You roll your eyes, and playfully push him away from you so that you can tug your skirt back into place.

“I think I can find a way to be okay with that,” you smirk. “If we ever get out of this fuckin’ elevator.”

not my favorite thing i've ever written by any means, i've been feeling really unmotivated to write and have felt kinda burnt out, but i still wanted to get this out before valentine's day bc if i didn't then i never would have finished it at all, lol. so i'm sorry it's short 😭 hope you still enjoyed

reblogs/comments are always appreciated, thanks for reading!

[apocalyqsc]

how does gf!reader handle drew starkey being the “internets boyfriend”

INTERNETS BOYFRIEND ᓭི༏ᓯྀ 𝓓.𝓢

CONTENT (WARNINGS); fluff—gf!reader x bf!drew s.

ʕノ)ᴥ(ヾʔ

you don’t really mind all the attention drew get’s. infact the more the merrier. because that just proves that he’s literally the hottest, sexiest man on the universe. like, c’mon now. no way drew really thought you were going to get made over the fact people are with you that’s he’s hot n handsome. plus; no one knows that the two of you are dating. you aren’t famous, nor do you want to be in the spotlight. “wait,” drew stares at you, “seriously—you don���t care?” maybe just a little part of him was disappointed that you weren’t jealous over something so little. “no?” you said with an fake concerned look, “should i be worried your disappointed—” “no, no—not at all”.

drew’ll literally catch you watching fan edits of him and characters he’s played (cough, cough…. rafe). n you be remaining vigilant reposting them like your just another drew starkey fan. you’ll send them to drew like crazy. even though he’s their for you to admire ‘it’s not the same’ “but baby, ‘m right here y’know.” “not the same.” you murmured, cutting your eyes up at him before falling back to the screen. drew shut his phone off, before taking your phone, “ground rules, if i’m here—admire me.” drew stated. he was just so needy for your attention (give it to him).

you’d giggle every time you’d read the news articles on your phone. of course drew’ll be busy on his phone, texting his family n such about the next get together. he’s take a glance at your screen just to see you reading the title, ‘internets boyfriend’ something something. it was something knew everyday “again?” he’d ask, you’d reply with a quick, “mhm.” completely memeing the title. it was such a silly concept to you. your dating drew in secret, the only people knowing is his family—but the internet completely a bliss to the situation.

for quality time, you and drew cook dinner, will listening to music in the kitchen. drew and you had matching aprons. he had his arms linked under your armpits, hunching to lay his head in the crest of your neck, when the song on youtube ended, the video would flash to an edit of him being the internet’s boyfriend. at least he knew it was your account (he already knew that). he cut you a judgmental stare. you let out a little giggle, “sorry ‘bout that.” your hand came to pat drew’s. he held your hips in his hand as he lifted his face from your neck. you let out a little whine of complaint when he did, drew steadily shaking his head, “tsk, tsk.” he wasn’t actually mad, he was just playing around with you. but to remove himself from your neck was a crime.

[puck-luck]

trevor would overhear you call him your friend and then when fucking you hed make you say he’s just your friend

warnings: part two of this blurb from my 1k celly (CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE!!), fwb relationship, hockey player x employee of the team, former grudges from boston university mentioned, banter (flirting by bullying), oral m!receiving, talk about porn and references to filming, talk about fem!masturbation and using toys, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lack of aftercare bc… well. it’s TZ. love him, but that boy isn’t an aftercare machine.

pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader

wc: 4,150

Trevor is going home for the second week of the break in February, but you’re not. You have some work to do for the Ducks during the break, since you’re not one of the players. You still have to do your job instead of getting two weeks off, which Trevor didn’t seem to realize at first. 

You’ve been hooking up for weeks now, always in secret, and that’s how you like it. Trevor likes how your relationship is too, but he’d asked you to come over to his apartment and stay with him before he left for break. He’d incentivized you by saying “It’ll be like a fuckfest, we’ll have sex, eat, sleep, have sex some more… doesn’t that sound fun?”

Trevor wasn’t wrong; his statement had sounded fun. Regrettably, you could not accept his invitation. When you’d explained that it was because of work, Trevor had pouted but accepted it. You’d instead made plans to meet up on Friday night to hook up before he left on Saturday.

It’s not a surprise, then, when Trevor lets himself into your apartment after you unlock it for him. You’re on the phone with a friend right now, so you give him little more than a wave when he crosses the threshold. You’re just catching up with the girl on the other end of the call, so it’s nothing pressing. You wait for a break in the conversation, then bid her goodbye. 

“I gotta go, my friend just got here,” you tell her. “We’ll talk soon. Mhm. G’bye.” You hang up and set the phone down.

Trevor has a coy smile on his face when you turn to say hello to him. “You think we’re friends now?”

“I like that friend, but not enough to tell her that I’m hanging up on her because my fuckbuddy is here,” you sass him. “That’s strictly a conversation for my bestie.”

Trevor’s smile widens. “Aww, your best friend knows about us?”

You scoff. “What, yours doesn’t?”

Trevor’s silence strikes a chord within you.

“Really? You haven’t told anyone about this,” you state, crossing your arms over your chest and tapping your foot impatiently. Trevor doesn’t seem like the type to keep a secret, not when it comes to his conquests. He’s very confident with his ability in bed, bordering on bragging whenever you two talk about the past. He’s got no shame when he talks to you about how he once make a girl come on his fingers in less than two minutes, then swore he could do the same to you. 

Trevor guffaws. “Do you think I want people knowing that I’m fucking you?”

Your jaw drops. Was that really necessary?

“I mean, you work for the team,” Trevor continues. “I don’t think it would be great if that got out. Do you?”

So he’s not being a complete dick. He’s still not being nice, though. He’s rather condescending, actually. You’re more than willing to tell him so.

“We don’t have to talk if you’re going to be an ass, Trevor,” you tell him. “Why don’t you just do what you’re here to do, and then you can leave?”

“You don’t want to hang out with your friend?” Trevor goads. He’s already pulling at the neckline of his t-shirt, tugging it over his head. “Are you using me for my body?”

You make a face at him. “Yes. You know that.”

Trevor laughs breathily and tosses his shirt at you, bringing his arms up and flexing, showing off his biceps and his muscular torso. He turns his head to the side so you can see his profile. 

You roll your eyes, throwing his shirt back at his chest. “Don’t get cocky. You’re using me for my body too, after all.”

Trevor presses a hand to his heart. “I’m wounded that you would say that. Do you think so little of me?”

“You wanted this week to be a sexathon,” you deadpan. You are not deluded enough to think that Trevor’s heart lives in his penis.

“I believe I said fuckfest,” Trevor corrects. 

Another eye roll from you. “Trevor, it’s okay that you’re using me for my body,” you try to convince him, nodding in an exaggerated way. You make your eyes look big and innocent, pouting your bottom lip out. “I have no interest in doing more with you.”

Trevor returns your pout. “So you lied when you said we were friends?”

He’s clearly not going to let this go anytime soon. “Drop it,” you admonish anyway. You step towards him, getting your hand on the rolled waistband of his sweats.  “Let’s fuck.”

He smiles. Trevor ducks his head to plant a kiss on your mouth. “I want to watch you touch yourself,” he says. “I was thinking about that the other day.”

“Oh, yeah?” you ask him. You start to walk backwards, taking careful step after careful step towards your bedroom. You’re bringing Trevor with you– when you step back with your left, he steps forward with his right, and vice versa. It’s a fun little dance and Trevor’s looking down at you with that smug light in his eyes. “When? The other night when I wouldn’t come over because I had that 9 A.M. meeting?”

“Nah, I was watching porn that night,” Trevor drawls, his smile growing crooked. 

“Gross,” you reply. “I bet if you weren’t in hockey, you’d tear that industry up.”

“You think I’d be good on camera?” he teases. “Are you trying to tell me something?” Trevor reaches behind you and opens the door to your bedroom, swinging it open so you can continue your trek backwards.

“No way,” you say. Your knees hit the back of your bed and you fall backwards, pulling Trevor down on top of you. “You don’t want this getting out and neither do I.”

Without giving Trevor a chance to reply, you find his lips and kiss him. Trevor lets out a soft moan as his crotch comes into contact with the dip between your legs and you take advantage of the way his mouth has opened, licking over his lips and into his mouth.

“You gonna put on a show for me?” Trevor mumbles against your lips between kisses. “What if you fucked yourself with that vibrator I got you?”

“It’s dead,” you tell him.

Trevor pushes your shirt up and pulls it over your head. “Doesn’t mean you can’t fuck yourself with it, ‘nd touch your clit with those pretty fingers at the same time.” He fits his face between your breasts and leaves soft kisses over the swell of one boob, then the other. Trevor is digging his hands beneath your back to tug at the clasp of your bra, determined to undress you quickly.

“What are you going to do? Sit and stare? I don’t think so,” you say, shaking your head. You scratch down his back with the tips of your fingernails, tapping your fingers pointedly between the dimples on Trevor’s lower back. “I can fuck myself with that vibrator anytime, Z. I won’t get your cock for a whole week.”

He unclasps your bra and whips it off, tossing it across the room. Trevor starts to leave bite marks over your tits, his teeth digging into your flesh. “You’ll miss your friend, huh?”

“I’ll miss your dick,” you concede. “You have a very high sex drive and it’s spoiling me.” You say it so Trevor can’t tell if you mean that he’s spoiling you like lavishing you in gifts… or if he’s spoiling you like your sex drive is deteriorating into something akin to his.

“New plan, then.” Trevor smirks. He pushes up from the bed and drops his sweatpants, then shucks his underwear to the corner of the room where your bra lays. “If you’re going to miss my cock so much, then you’ve gotta suck him before I fuck you.”

“Him?” you repeat, laughing. You prop yourself up on your elbows and raise an eyebrow at Trevor. “Are you one of those people that has a name for your penis?”

Trevor shrugs, just to annoy you. It’s pretty clear that he does from his reaction, but he doesn’t tell you yes or no. 

“You don’t even want to get me naked first?” you ask. You’re still wearing your jeans and panties, while Trevor is fully unclothed and completely unabashed about it. 

“Do you need to be naked to use your mouth?” Trevor always has a comeback like this. When you started working for the Ducks, you thought it was because he didn’t like you and that he was still holding his grudge against you after that meaningless incident at Boston University. Now, you realize it’s just because he’s a talker. He loves to say the things that come to mind, no matter what they are.

This time, you don’t deign him with a reply. You glare up at him through your eyelashes and slink off the bed, coming to your knees on the carpet. You sit back on your heels and keep your back straight– 2025 is the year of good posture, according to your New Year’s Resolution– then wrap your hand around his base. You straighten your index finger and brush the smattering of curls that grow on his pelvis. “You need a trim,” you inform him, just to get the last word, before you fit your lips around his tip.

Trevor, always the charmer and never content to let you win, cups your cheek and runs the pad of his thumb above your upper lip. “So do you.”

You narrow your eyes and scrape your bottom teeth along the underside of his cock, purposefully dragging them against his sensitive skin. 

Trevor hisses and grimaces, but the smirk remains on his lips and the light never leaves his eyes. He watches your every movement and, if you didn’t know Trevor so well, you might mistake his gaze for admiration.

You swallow him down, taking inch after inch of Trevor’s cock and allowing your spit to slide from your mouth and wet his shaft. The saliva allows your hand an easier glide as you pump the remainder of his length. You could fit it into your mouth, but you just don’t want to choke and gag and get dizzy on his cock today. It’s a sexathon, not a sprint.

Regardless, you give Trevor’s cock plenty of attention. You enjoy sucking him off. You like stroking the skin on Trevor’s length with your hand, feeling it move underneath your palm. You like the noises Trevor makes as you slurp and bob your head and look up at him with wide, red-rimmed eyes. You love when he twitches in your mouth and flexes his abdomen because he’s feeling so good.

He pets through your hair and nudges your head down. “You know you can take more,” Trevor tells you softly, relatively subdued compared to his earlier banter. He’s not forcing or pushing you, just stating it.

You hum and nod, patting his hip. You pull off. “Can,” you repeat, emphasizing the key word. “I’m pacing myself.”

“Mm, you’re savoring it,” Trevor says, putting the words in your mouth. That’s absolutely not what you said, but whatever helps him sleep at night. 

You exhale a laugh from your nose, kissing the side of his base and continuing up his shaft, all the way until you reach his tip. You smile at Trevor sweetly before you swirl your tongue around his slit, then stretch your lips over your teeth and take him down. 

“That’s it,” Trevor murmurs. His eyes are hooded when you look up at him, the green there diluted by lust. “You look so pretty like this. We should do it more often.”

You nuzzle the tip of your nose against the hair you’d pointed out to him before. Upon drawing back, you start to strip his cock with your hand. “But don’t you like it more when you get my wet, tight pussy against the closet door before games?”

“Oh, love it,” Trevor chirps. “But I’d love to mess up your pretty gameday lipstick once in a while.”

You shake your head at him, pumping him even faster. You twist your hand around his tip and thumb over his slit, spreading the precum over the blushing skin. “I think the wrinkles in my work clothes are enough of a trophy for you, Z.”

Trevor shrugs, but his chest is moving deeply, showing that he’s actually pretty darn affected by your touch. 

You continue to speak. “You know what I like?” you ask.

Trevor hums and rolls his hips into your clutch.

“I like when we’re at our apartments,” you muse. You let his tip drag over your bottom lip, then to your chin so that he can see how your lip pops back into place, into a pout. “Because then, you don’t have to use a condom.”

Trevor groans, long and wanting. “That’s it, get on the bed,” he decides.

You break into a smile and relinquish your hold on his cock immediately, letting it bob in front of your face freely as you dig your nails into Trevor’s thighs and pull yourself up to a standing position. You wrap your arms around Trevor’s neck and brush your nose against his. “You have to take my pants off before you get inside me, you know.” You peck his lips and chuckle when his fingertips fly to the button of your jeans and make quick work of the zipper. 

“You’re so–” Trevor cuts himself off with a ‘hmph’ as he pushes your jeans and panties down. He pulls you close by your waist, blanketing your body with his when you fall back onto the mattress. Trevor grinds against your hip, bringing his hand to your core.

You pull back. “Don’t need that,” you tell him. “Fingered myself before you got here.”

“On the phone?” Trevor asks, drawing his eyebrows together.

You laugh. “No. Before that. Gross, Trevor.”

“Can you blame me for asking?” Trevor teases as he shifts between your legs, standing right at the edge of the bed. His thighs press into the mattress, but he’s still right above you. He hooks his hands under your knees and lifts, removing your clothing from where it had collected in a pile at your ankles. He circles his fingers around your ankles after tossing your jeans and panties to the side and spreads your legs, playing around to decide what position he wants today. He decides on pushing your right leg to your chest and hooking your left calf over his shoulder. Trevor leans down far enough that you’re stretching but not straining and plants a kiss on your lips. “You’re quite the exhibitionist.”

His acknowledgement of your gameday activities brings a smirk to your face. He’s just as bad as you are, even if he’s trying to shift the blame onto you.

Any retort evaporates from your tongue when Trevor starts to tap his cockhead against your entrance. It makes a hollow sound when he hits it in the perfect place the first time, so he does it a few extra times to see if he can emulate the sound again.

“Get in me,” you command, very serious and bossy now that he’s so close. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Trevor touts sarcastically, shifting to grip your hips with his strong hands. 

If you turn your ankle just right, you might be able to kick him in the head. You’re just about to test your luck when Trevor thrusts into you, hard, and your body goes boneless. He knocks a sigh from your lungs as he buries into you.

“So tight,” he grunts through his teeth. The corners of his lips turn up into a smirk. “You weren’t expecting that, were you?”

The way you’re clenching down on him and trying to adjust to his length should be a sign that you weren’t expecting him to start fucking into you right away. 

Trevor doesn’t slow down at all, snapping his hips forward and relishing in your reaction. He leans forward, cementing a hand next to your head. His chest pushes your folded leg further into your body and stretches the hamstring of the leg over his shoulder. His cock reaches a deeper point inside of you.

Your stomach jumps when Trevor’s tip contacts your sweet spot. The gasp that leaves your mouth earns you a smile and a peck, before Trevor hovers an inch above your face and directs a wad of his spit into your open mouth. You swallow it down and moan, a hand digging into Trevor’s chest to keep yourself grounded.

“I know what else you like,” Trevor murmurs, tucking your hair behind your ear and leaning down to kiss the side of your face.

You choke out a “What?”, hoping that you sound like you’re challenging him and holding onto your sanity instead of easily falling apart on his length like a cockdrunk slut.

“You like it when I use you.” Trevor’s whisper is sultry and much more of a statement than a question. His lips align with your ear and he nibbles on the lobe. “That’s why you talk about it all the time. You like it when I fold your knees up to your chest so you’ll suck my cock in like my little toy. You like it when I leave you sore and your joints lock up because I’ve fucked you like this for too long.” He kisses a line down your neck, ignoring the blithering babbles that come from your lips. “You like it when I take care of you after, too, rubbing your hips and smoothing out the knots in your back. You like it when I treat you like nothing more than a body for me to use, baby, because you know I always take care of my things, hm? Is that it?”

You keen in the back of your throat, eyes prickling and stinging with spirals of pleasure.

“Go on and make a mess over my cock, babe,” Trevor encourages in a syrupy sweet tone that seeps into your mind like a weed growing between sidewalk cracks. “Prove me right.”

Still whining, you rock your hips up without a consistent rhythm. You’re trying to catch him in the exact right way, but you’re too impatient to think about your movements and how they might be hindering you instead of helping you.

Trevor smiles down at you, his expression condescending. His tattooed arm leaves your waist and comes up to your face, spindly digits wrapping around your throat and fingertips pressing into the soft skin on the sides of your neck. He steals the breath from your lungs again with a harsh thrust, a loud clap of skin against skin, and prevents you from bringing a new breath in with his heavy hand. 

Your vision dances with black spots and your chest shudders. Trevor’s grin is one of the only things you can see beyond the spots– they shroud his face and give you tunnel vision. Then, with a final jab of Trevor’s tip to the depths of your inner walls, you shudder all over and feel your body release its hold on your orgasm.

“Oh, beautiful,” Trevor praises smugly. He fucks you while you come, loving how your bedsheets grow damp beneath you after such a strong climax. “Knew you could do it. Squirting all over my cock and I didn’t even have to touch your clit.” He drops to his elbow, beside your head, and kisses your lips. He loosens his grip on your throat, but still rests his hand along the column of your neck. “I’ll make you even messier if you ask me to, baby. That’s what you want, right? For me to come inside of you?”

“Yes,” you whimper, lacing your fingers through the hair at the nape of Trevor’s neck and tugging him back to your lips. “Fuck, Trevor, come inside me.”

“Yeah?” Trevor asks again, pumping his hips. His pace has slowed, enough that the overstimulation is setting in for you. Trevor can probably feel your pussy quivering around him, trying to muster up that same pleasure from before. “You want it?”

“Please.” You arch your back, feeling your tits press against his chest. You’re sure Trevor can feel it too, and enjoys it.

Trevor slides his hand from your neck to behind your lower back, keeping your hips lifted. To counterbalance, your shoulders sink into the mattress. Trevor’s lips are hard against yours, moving clumsily as his thrusts become choppy. The sounds between your bodies are loud and wet. “Oh,” he groans. His forehead meets yours and his breath washes over your lips. You know this noise well– he makes an exaggerated version of it whenever he eats something in front of you, moaning out loud to see if he can make you glare and cross your legs, clenching your thighs together like a dog hearing the word ‘walk.’

And even though you know his game, you return his moan with a breathy sigh. You make a soft noise in your throat, almost inquisitive, tipping your chin up to capture his lips again. You catch the corner of his mouth, pursing your lips just right of where you want. 

Trevor turns his head and rectifies that, sliding his tongue into your mouth and groaning. The noise reverberates through your body. You move in tandem until you feel it– the subtle throb and twitch of Trevor’s cock inside of you as he reaches the brink of orgasm. 

You clench down on Trevor, reveling in the way he seems to falter in the middle of a kiss. He pauses for a split second, then spills into you and resumes his pace. There wasn’t a visible hesitation in his movements, but you know it was there. You could feel it in the tie between your bodies. 

Trevor floods your cunt with his cum, letting a long-drawn out moan fill your mouth similarly. “Fuck,” he drawls under his breath. His kisses grow shorter and shallower as his cock softens inside of you. “God, you feel good.” Trevor moves his mouth down your neck, through the valley of your breasts, and as far south as your stomach. His hands gently lower your legs to the bed and he squeezes your hips, but you shake your head. They don’t hurt this time– probably because you were on a bed rather than in a closet.

You can feel him starting to leak out of you onto the bedsheets. His cum, milky and white, joins the clear stain of your own. “You have to throw my laundry in the wash before you leave,” you tell Trevor. Now that you’ve been fucked into a state of pure bliss, you’re able to sink back into the dynamic that you and Trevor normally have– the biting banter that you both enjoy so much.

“Baby, I barely do my own laundry, why do you think I’m going to do yours?” Trevor replies. He pulls his cock from your entrance and reaches for the tissues on your bedside table, cleaning himself before going to find his pants.

He never does real aftercare with you, not even when you’re at your respective homes. That’s what this relationship is about– you’re not friends, really, even though it’s convenient to explain Trevor in that way to your actual friends. You fuck, always fast and to satisfy the urge, and then he leaves. You’re remarkably good at taking care of yourself after the fact.

Trevor bounces a little bit on his heels once he gets his boxers and sweats on, sticking his hand down the front to adjust his soft cock. He bites his bottom lip and flashes a shit-eating grin at you. 

You throw your arms above your head and stretch, humming as you feel your lower back pop. Your body becomes a fluid line, curves rippling and folding over or elongating with your movements. One of your hands comes to your ribcage after you stretch and you brush your underboob with your thumb.

Trevor crosses the room and plants a kiss on your lips, a quick one. He pinches your cheek and scrunches his nose when he pulls away. “I’ll be back the 20th,” Trevor tells you. “See you then?”

“That’s a Thursday,” you reply. “I have to be up early on Friday.”

“I won’t keep you up too late,” Trevor vows with a wink. “Why don’t you come over after work? I’ll fuck you on the kitchen counter and then I’ll send you off with a doggie bag.”

You snort out a laugh. “It better be something good.”

Trevor swats your hip and goes to the bedroom door. “You’ll have to wait and see. I’ll text you. Or, if I forget, you’ll text me.” He waves his fingers. “Toodles, babe. Have fun with your laundry.”

notes: hope y'all enjoyed! beaquinn baby name reveals are coming next, in four separate parts. after that, we will have the nicojack threesome. after that... maybe stg12. i haven't planned that far ahead yet. ttyl!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

i know that this has probably never been discussed in twisted wonderland before, but im curious to know what you'd think about whether necromancy would be considered a taboo/"dark" magic (like in dungeon meshi, if you've watched or read it)?

I read like one volume of the Dungeon Meshi manga a few years back :DD but unfortunately never read (or watched) beyond that! I don’t think that background knowledge is needed to talk about necromancy though, it’s a relatively common thing in fantasy or magical worlds.

I’m thinking that necromancy either doesn’t exist (since we’ve never heard of any reference being made to it) OR that it does exist, though it is probably taboo and it must either be a forgotten art, or very extremely difficult to achieve. This is because Malleus is one of the top 5 strongest mages in Twisted Wonderland (and his grandmother is described to be even more powerful than him) yet he does not indicate he has the capacity for resurrecting the dead??? Even though you’d think that if necromancy was possible, the Draconias would be capable of it and Maleficia would want to revive her only child, regardless of the ethics of it (which would be dicey). Furthermore, Malleus and others in the cast (like Idia, Rollo, etc.) seem to act as though death is finality. When Lilia shares that his magic is waning and that he is going to retire to (and die in) the Land of Crimson Long, Malleus laments that, despite all his magical power, he cannot stop the hands of time. If magic could solve everything, then Malleus would casually pull that necromancy spell out of his ass, no??? In Idia's case, the researchers from S.T.Y.X. react with revulsion when Idia constructs an artificial intelligence modelled after his deceased younger brother. This makes it seem like to "bring back the dead" is considered forbidden.

I want to add that ghosts don’t count as the result of necromancy; in-universe, we get the lore that ghosts are the dead who were not able to pass on due to an strong earthly desire or unfulfilled wish keeping them chained to the land of the living. Ghosts also tend to only be seen in areas with high magical energy, like NRC campus. They also have abilities and limitations which are not the same as fully restoring someone from the dead. I’m not sure what the senators count as (since they’re not described as ghosts), but I don’t think they count as instances of necromancy either.

There’s a fan theory that Crowley is Malleus’s missing father Raverne—however, a certain variation of that theory elaborates that, if true, it recontextualizes the speech Crowley gives at the start of the game. Some speculate that the “flower of evil” he speaks highly of is his dead wife Maleanor. They suggest that Crowley is someone purposefully orchestrating OBs (an idea proposed by Idia in book 6) to gather blot stones (Crowley does ask us in the main story if we’ve seen blot stones lying around) for use in a ceremony to revive her. That’s just a theory though! There’s an alternative theory that Crowley is trying to revive the Great Seven as well. As I said before, we have yet to receive any official confirmation that necromancy is even possible in Twst.

[sailorscout93]

I’ve been inspired to add to this with what would happen when Glinda *DOES SUCCEED* by this post

This might get long so I’m putting it under a cut!

This is more just me headcanoning Elphie’s pregnancy rather than another incorrect quote but the Glinda in the picture and my Glinda from the incorrect quote above are the same person and you cannot tell me otherwise.

First of all: Fiyero was a part of the OG conversation because of course it’s actually a Thropple thing. He might not have been actively trying to get Elphaba pregnant, but Glinda was. (Whether or not Liir already exists in this universe as a Fiyeraba child, I’ll leave that up to you to decide).

After the conversation above was followed up with some ACTUAL conversation about having a child between all three of them, Elphaba decided that maybe a mini her and Glinda combo running around wouldn’t be so bad and actually put in some research into whether it would actually be possible to conceive a baby through magic. (Spoiler alert it was).

A few months of trying with *both* of their magic later….

Glinda may have passed out when Elphaba showed her the positive pregnancy test….

Luckily Fiyero was right there to catch her. (Even though he was also a little shocked that the magic worked!)

Once Glinda woke up after passing out at the pregnancy test she couldn’t believe their magic actually worked and they would soon have a little combination of the 2 of them in the house. She shot up despite Fiyero and Elphaba’s protests that she not stand up too fast and kissed Elphaba with all the passion her body could muster while she was still a little wobbly from being unconscious just a few seconds prior but Elphie knew what she was going for.

Glinda immediately went into overprotective mode. She wanted to know where Elphaba was at all times and didn’t want her to go anywhere without Glinda or Fiyero accompanying her.

But while being overprotective, she also became the most doting momsie to be. Not that Fiyero wouldn’t also be doting on their pregnant wife, but Glinda would make sure her wife would want for NOTHING. Keeping Elphaba and the baby happy and comfortable as possible would be her number one priority. Elphaba wakes up at 2 am to the baby doing summersaults on her bladder or kicking and punching her ribs? Glinda would also wake up, help get Elphie into a comfortable enough position, lean down and talk to or sing to her belly to help calm their little one down so their mama can rest. Cravings? Consider any food cravings hers! Whether Glinda goes in the bubble to get it herself or sends Fiyero out for it.

When Elphaba gets morning sickness Glinda refuses to leave her side. Rubbing her back, holding her hair, making sure she has stuff to settle her stomach. All the cuddles and kisses to make her feel better.

Elphaba reads all the pregnancy books and relays all the info to Glinda or just reads the book out loud while they cuddle. They all attend the birthing classes to make sure they’re as prepared as possible, but none of it mattered when the moment actually came. Glinda panicked. Just like when she passed out when Elphaba showed her the positive pregnancy test, she passed out when Elphie was pushing. Fiyero had to catch her AGAIN. Thankfully she woke up before the birth of their daughter.

Glinda may have said she wanted to carry the next one when she saw Elphaba holding/staring lovingly at the little light green skinned girl with blonde hair, deep chocolate eyes, Elphaba’s nose and freckles. Elphaba wasn’t too concerned about another one right away when she first said it…. Considering she had just given birth to this one like 10 minutes prior…. But if she had thought a few months later about Glinda pregnant with either her or Fiyero’s baby…. Well that would be something she might be willing to bring up again.

Gonna add a little bit of NSFW to the end of this because I can’t NOT do it. Am I little screwy in the head for it? Maybe. Do I care? Nope.

So after Glinda recovers from her fainting incident at the pregnancy test they celebrated later that night in a… Not so family friendly way…. We’re not even gonna attempt to count the number of times Elphaba came that night between her wife and husband’s ministrations

Elphaba and Fiyero had been using protection to ensure that she didn’t get pregnant by him (if Liir already exists then again) while she and Glinda were trying for a baby. Because the process took several months she went several months without him being able to fill her the way she wanted. So once she was definitely pregnant and it was safe to do so again having him come inside her made her so happy

Pregnancy hormones make Elphaba almost insatiable sometimes. This is one of those moments that having 2 partners able and willing to be jumped by her at random moments at all hours of the day is nice because at least one of them is almost always available to give her what she wants

As she gets further along in the pregnancy and moving in general becomes harder for her she becomes a little bit more of a pillow princess, less because she wants to, and more out of necessity if they want to keep doing things because she literally cannot go from laying to sitting up by herself without assistance sometimes.

Towards the end of the pregnancy Elphaba becomes insistent on wearing as minimal clothes as possible (for some reason I headcanon she gave birth during the summer so it was very warm in the final weeks of her pregnancy) because she was always hot and because it was hard to get clothes on and off working with her very round belly. It did make it very convenient to seduce her spouses though

Yes, they fucked the day she went into labor. 😂

I might come back one day with pregnant Glinda headcanons….

Elphaba: I started my period today.

Glinda: You’re not pregnant?!

Elphaba: No…?

Fiyero: We’re not trying to get-

Glinda: I’M TRYING SO HARD!!!!!

Fiyero: WHAT?!?!

Elphaba: You’re…. What?!

Fiyero: Glinda… That’s not how that works. You don’t have the right…. Parts to get her pregnant.

Glinda: But my magic….

Elphaba: Glinda. Your magic makes bubbles. Not babies.

Glinda: I’ll try again!

Elphaba and Fiyero: 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♂️

[maladaptivewritings]

HeadLock

Summary: Simon just returned from deployment, to realize he has a new neighbor. His paranoia soon leads to obsession as he dives into a cycle of charismatic stalking.

Tw: stalking, smoking, general Simon behaviors.

Y/N: She/They pronouns, has tattoos, library associate, mid-late 20's

The clock read 4:38 A.M as the rain beat down on the windshield. A so-called simple task that was meant for a month at maximum, turned into a four month escapade; Johnny had been getting antsy towards the end, "He had promised to be home before his niece was born."

Simon scoffed at the thought as he sat at the red light, thunder cracks as he waits. He hated the city, a common thought as the second the light switched green, the lone car he shared the road with blared their horn. He put out the cigarette, letting it fly out his window as he picked up the pace. The flat was a few hundred meters away, despite the near vacant halls it was a comfort.

The flat was funded through Price and Laswell, though unorthodox it was the least they could do, seeing at prior he was practically living in his office. The factory turned, flat lacked parking that would protect him from the storm. He made his way up from the street, drenched from the downpour and reeking of dried blood, liquor and lead.

The 11th floor, came sooner than he thought as he turned down the hall. Unlike his routine would normally have it, he was not alone in the desolate hall. There stood a meek younger woman, who like himself was drenched as they hastily tried to unlock her door to know avail. Groceries slowly slip from her reach, Simon sloped forward picking up a bag of crisps that had already slipped.

"Y'need help." His voice like gravel hit you like a bus, he was a hulk of a man. You looked up at the strange figure you shared the hall with, he observed you squirm trying to keep hold of your bag of curious items.

"Oh uh, um yeah please." The stranger was an American. What a great surprise, especially after his head was nearly blown off by one. She continued on trying explain why at this hour she was up. Simon grabbed the bag that you held in your left hand. He scanned what was in the bag as you finally unlocked the door.

"Ya' new to the area." He spoke once more, what would normally sound so comforting unnerved you for a moment. You nodded, smiling politely like you were taught to do so, tired eyes showing the lie. As you slipped inside your apartment, once you retrieved your other bag.

Simon sat in the hall, he watched as your form went to hide. The damp shirt sticking to the skin of your arm as you waved goodbye. His mind going to the worst scenarios, he locked himself in his flat.

The computer read now 6:45 A.M, passed out at a desk within his hospital-esque bedroom. Within the time he had gotten home he had learned your name, date of birth and education; hours of internet stalking had him cross-referencing to what tattoos you had and if they had any meaning to Graves and his men. Luckily they didn't, but as the storm subsided mentally he was too enthralled by who you were to stop searching.

Why did you move here? Why this building? Were you an undercover spy?

The questions that ran rampant throughout his mind became like a cruel game. His exhausted body hunched over his desk awoke with someone knocking on his door. The little American with muffins.

He stared down at you, eyes like obsidian and peering at you incessantly despite how much you tried to make him focus on the muffins.

"So, I made some for everyone else in the hall but I'm Y/n and I move here like a few weeks back..." Your words fluttered as you attempt to reintroduce yourself. Concerned with looking rude you hand over the cheap Tupperware. "It's Blueberry by the way.."

He already knew your name, where you went to University and where you were going to be working. Despite this of course, he nodded pretending to take in the information as if new to him.

"Thanks, sorry for not welcomin' ya been busy." His voice fills the hall. He leaned against his doorframe, determined to figure you out. Relaxing his body, as best as he could, he made glances at your form. If you were a spy, you were one of the better looking ones.

"Oh no you're fine, It gave me more time to unpack." You said brushing your hair out of your face. You had hastily woken up and realized you needed to redo this introduction to your incredibly hot, intimidating neighbor. You smiled up at him, you had even made sure to wear the nice Pj's for this and not the raggedy old college merch.

"Well.. speaking of that I need to get back to my place. Good to meet you.." You said pausing for his introduction.

"Simon," He said as you made your way into the apartment. You piqued his interest and he needed more. This was for security reasons of course, nothing more. He would start repeating this more and more. As he returned to his flat he stared at his computer, multiple tabs opened like a map of you.

This was not normal, he understood this as a fact but he had to determine if you were a threat, and if not how he can he create a way to pass the the time before he disappears once more.

[allertonhoe]

A1 + A19 with rafe! I don’t know if these go together but I feel like they kinda do, some angst that turns into like realization and fear and fluff cuz they’re friends! You can just use one or the other or both whatever you come up with will be amazing because you write so well! Your writing is so good and I loved the other prompts you wrote recently. I’m glad you started writing again because I love your work! Congrats on 500 💕

oooh no they totally work!!! it's not super fluffy (the end kinda is lolol) but i kinda made it an indirect sequel to this request 👀 you totally don't have to read it to understand what's going on tho!

& thank you so much!!! i'm so glad you're liking it!!! 🙈 thank you for the request, i hope you enjoy!! ☺️

prompts: "We’re not just friends and you fucking know it." + "I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me"

content warnings: 18+ MDNI, original afab!reader, obx!universe, smoking weed

500 follower celebration!

With summer in full swing, another kegger was taking place at the beach tonight. The sky was painted in a mixture of light blues, purples, and pinks as the sun disappeared into the Atlantic Ocean. A bonfire placed in the middle of the sand, standing tall and blazing fiercely.

You were sitting with Sarah and her group of friends, scattered into a circle and casually passing around a joint. You weren't as close with them like you were with Sarah, but there was no bad blood between any of you. Plus you weren't one to turn down free weed.

While you tried your best not to give him your attention, you could feel Rafe's heated glare towards you from where he stood with his own friends across the beach. Watching your every move like he had any actual authority over you. You refused to give him the reaction he wanted so nobody, especially his sister who was only a few feet away from you, got any wrong ideas that weren't actually too far off.

The one time you'd hooked up during a rager at Tannyhill didn't turn out to only be one time. In fact, it became a bit of a habit when you and Rafe would find yourselves alone with each other. Which now was happening more often than not.

And despite the two of you being on the same page sexually, it was still the total opposite in every other aspect of your relationship. Hence the reason he was shooting you daggers, although his distaste for the Pogues didn't help much either.

You stumbled slightly as you decided to get up from your spot, the cocktail of substances hitting you hard. Reaching out to the first thing, or in this case person, you were able to grab to stabilize your balance. Pope instinctively snatching your waist and stopping you from falling flat on your face.

"You good over there?" He chuckled at your misstep.

"Yeah," you affirm. "Just a little buzzed."

"A little? That's some great weed. How damn spoiled are you Kooks?" JJ feigns dramatically, Sarah giving him a playful shove.

"Where are you going anyways?" Your friend asks curiously.

"Gonna find a bathroom," you inform them.

"It's getting dark. Do you want me to come with?" Pope kindly extends to you.

"I'll be fine, but thanks," you ensure the group, shooting them another reassuring smile as you made your exit.

You walked down the beach, eventually turning into the woods to find a more secluded area. But as the music faded into the distance, you started hearing what you could swear were footsteps. You made sure to stay vigilant of your surroundings, stopping a few times to properly assess the area before continuing further.

It was like you were in some eerie fairytale, the sounds echoing through the dark forest unnerving you more than you honestly expected. Kinda wishing you'd taken Pope up on his offer, but boiling it down to your anxiety just getting the best of you.

You knew you weren't exaggerating though when you heard a branch snap behind you. You took out your phone and turned on the flashlight, calling out a frightened 'hello' like you'd actually get a response. Panicking when you realized you had nothing to help you defend yourself, and that you weren't really in the right mindset to do so either.

"Hey, it's just me." A familiar voice announces nearby, Rafe revealing himself from behind a couple of trees with his hands up in surrender.

"Jesus Christ, are you fucking kidding me, Rafe?" You scold breathlessly. "I thought I was about to get mauled by a bear. What the hell? Warn a girl."

"What? Heyward couldn't have protected you?" he grills.

"Are you fucking serious?" you remark, mirroring his sour attitude. "You're jealous I was sitting next to Pope?"

"I'm not jealous because you were sitting next to him," he denies immediately, as if you were out of line for even suggesting it. "You two were all cuddly and flirting. I saw the way he had his hands on you."

"I almost fell on my ass. He was being a gentleman," you justify.

"A gentleman? I'm sorry. I didn't realize you wanted a fucking knight in shining armor." He scoffs sarcastically.

"I seriously don't know what your issue is right now. We just fuck around, we're barely friends..." You dispute, Rafe looking at you resentfully as you finished the sentiment.

"Don't do that," he growled. "We're not just friends, and you fucking know it."

"Are you high? What are you talking about?" You investigate in confusion. You were used to his possessiveness, but this was something he'd never actually communicated before.

"I... Fuck, never mind," he dismisses, noticeably frustrated that he couldn't articulate what he wanted at that moment.

"No. You literally followed me out here to make me feel like shit for no reason. Say it with your chest," you taunt.

That's when he stops himself, a wary look crossing his features. If you knew any better, you'd think he was actually hesitant over expressing himself. But this was Rafe Cameron, the most daunting guy on the island. The chances of that happening were basically the same as him admitting...

"I think I'm in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me."

His voice is quiet and hesitant instead of packing its usual punch. His hands shoved in his pocket and eyes sheepishly avoiding yours instead of the unapologetic demeanor you were used to; that he was aggravating you with minutes ago on the beach. You just stared at him for a minute, waiting to see if he corrected himself or took back the declaration, but it didn't happen.

"That's not funny..." You finally manage to get out, your reply just as vulnerable as his was.

"Trust me, I'm not trying to be funny..." He mutters.

"Rafe, what are you-"

"Can I just..." He interjects, his words faltering just as quickly as they came out.

A few seconds passed as you waited for him to make his case. He brushed a hand through his hair as he contemplated what he said next, like he was trying to make sure it wasn’t wrong thing. The gravity of his confession actually hitting you, bringing forward emotions you'd always avoided when it came to Rafe.

"I get why you wouldn't believe me or think this is some sick joke on my end. But have I really not made it obvious? He surveys, only capable of shaking your head to respond. "Wow, okay. You're really making me put it all out there..." He stalls even further.

"I, uh... I've always been into you. Ever since Sarah brought you over the first time. You've never been intimidated by me, no matter what I said or did. And fuck, I haven't been able to stop thinking about anything else since we started fucking around. I've never felt like this? And I don't know if that's love or whatever, but something just snapped when I saw you and Heyward like that. More than usual." He rambled, completely unfamiliar with this side of Rafe.

You couldn't muster up an answer for him. You didn't know where to even begin. As unpredictable and impulsive as you've known him to be, this was totally out of left field. There was no denying your physical attraction to him; you wouldn't be giving him a second look if it were just based off his normally hostile personality.

"Fuck, please say something," he pleaded weakly.

"I don't know what to say," you contend, meeting his gaze apprehensively. "I've barely accepted the idea that I'm hooking up with one of my closest friend's brothers. This is a lot..."

"You know me. You know I wouldn't just throw this all out there to mock you," he maintains.

The tension between you could be cut with a knife, Rafe laying everything on the table. He'd never expressed much in terms of affection when you were together, his approach with you typically impassive and a bit rough. So you couldn't help but let out a small giggle as it all swirled through your head.

"What?" He frowns, anticipating the worst.

"You like me," you assert plainly, like you were schoolchildren. Your lighthearted tone immediately causing his body to relax and rolling his eyes at your teasing.

"I know, I can't believe it either," he retorts sarcastically, a sly smirk poking through.

"Hey! See how far being a smartass gets you," You threaten playfully.

"You know, you're really keeping me on my toes here..." he complains, pointing out that you hadn't really given him any reassurance since his confession.

"Sorry, am I making the big, bad Rafe Cameron nervous?" You gasp, sauntering up to him and wrapping your hands around his neck.

"Stop saying it like that," he grumbles, only making you more enthused.

"Well I'm not just gonna fall at your feet," you indicate cheekily. "You need to woo me a little bit,"

"I haven't wooed you yet?" He bantered back. "Wouldn't expect anything different than you giving me a hard time,"

His hands grazed up and down your sides, as if you were the most delicate thing in the world. The previously unsettling sounds of nature now calming, hearing crickets chirp around you. Rafe's features were washed in the moonlight, somehow making him look even better than he usually did.

"I know this is definitely the opposite way we're supposed to do things," he establishes. "But can we just take things slow and see where it goes?"

"Do you really think it's gonna work between us?" You interrogate timidly, a nagging insecurity present knowing your standard dynamic.

"I honestly don't know," he acknowledges. "But I'd really like to try."

That was as long as you could hold yourself back, getting onto your tiptoes and kissing him. You could barely recognize the version of Rafe standing in front of you—well composed, sentimental, genuinely charming. But you could tell he was being earnest and for some reason, no matter how much he did get on your nerves sometimes, it made you want to try too.

[maretinelli]

SUPER HEROINE

DadLewis Hamilton X Mom!fem!reader

Summary: When Y/n is asked to help with a surgery, Lewis is responsible for taking care of the girls and this leads to several adventures until mom arrives with news for dad.

Words: 4.0K+

Warnings: Mentions of Y/n's work, Pietra and her jokes, mentions of more children and romance.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling mistakes you may have. This is part of the Universe of A NON-SEPARATION, but can be read separately.

MASTERLIST

Even though Y/n had her own medical practice, there was a team at the hospital that wanted her to assist with a surgery in the area where she worked. The medical team highly valued her experience and wanted her to participate in a complex procedure. After some thought and discussion with her husband, Y/n finally agreed.

In the morning, when she left early, she gave some instructions to her husband:

"Help Marie finish her schoolwork, she said she just needs to review it, but you know how she is... Don't let Pietra wear the Ferrari t-shirt to school, because she'll insist on going with her. Set aside their snacks and, please, make sure Pietra doesn't forget her backpack, yesterday she almost went without it."

Lewis, still sleepy, nodded with a lazy smile. "Relax, love, I can handle it."

Y/n smiled, knowing he always tried, but that at the end of the day, he would text her in surprise at how much she did.

Lewis woke up in the morning and went downstairs to make the girls breakfast. While the pancakes were cooking, he and the two decided to turn the kitchen into a running circuit, placing cushions from the living room on the floor as barriers. The race was fierce, with Marie winning by a narrow margin, while Pietra protested that she had been 'pushed' through the air.

After breakfast, Lewis sat down with Marie to review her schoolwork, but soon had to send her older sister to her office to finish and concentrate, because Pietra decided that she also wanted to do the same work and, in the process, ended up scattering colored pencils and papers all over the table.

At lunchtime, Pietra wanted to eat sushi and had great arguments to make her father give in, but Lewis, with his convincing way, said:

"The food that Mom always makes is already perfect. But, tonight, we can prepare what you asked for, how about that?"

Pietra thought for a few seconds and agreed, satisfied.

When getting the girls ready for school, Lewis faced his biggest challenge: hairstyles. It took him three times as long as Y/n, but he managed it. After getting them both dressed, packing their lunches, and checking their backpacks, he finally got them off to school.

When he got home, Lewis took out his cell phone and sent a message to Y/n:

Lewis: How do you manage to do all this by yourself when I'm at the races? I swear I thought I was going to get lost in the hair part. You're amazing.

Love❤️: Oh, love, that's because I'm magical. But I bet the girls looked beautiful.

Lewis: Beautiful!! But I definitely need some lessons from you.

Love❤️: Whenever you want, Hamilton. Now I'm going to prepare the patient for pre-surgery exams. I love you.

Lewis: I love you more💓

After that, he went to the office to work on his projects until it was time to pick up the girls from school.

In the car on the way back from school, Pietra and Marie bombarded Lewis with random questions.

"Daddy, is Mommy home yet?" Marie asked.

"Not yet, she's helping the other doctors at the hospital."

"But did she say hi to us?" Pietra wanted to know.

Lewis smiled. "Yes, she did, she said she loves you and will be home soon."

The girls smiled, satisfied, and continued talking excitedly about their day at school.

When they got home, Marie and Pietra grabbed their backpacks and ran inside, going straight to their room. Lewis laughed at their haste.

"What do you guys want to eat for lunch?" He asked loudly.

"Chocolate pancakes!" They both replied at the same time.

The pilot laughed at the synchronicity and went to the kitchen to prepare everything.

And while she was separating the ingredients, Pietra appeared in the kitchen wearing something other than her uniform and climbed up on the high stool to observe.

"Daddy, do you want help?"

Lewis smiled. "No need, princess. I've been making great chocolate chip pancakes ever since I started dating your mom. I'm an expert."

"Oh, so Mom learned how to make pancakes from you?" Pietra smiled.

Lewis laughed and nodded.

"Yes, and today she does even better than me."

Marie arrived soon after, wearing a yellow flowered dress, and sat down next to her sister. Pietra smiled friendly at her and Marie began to tell her about her day at school.

"I had to present my work today, and the teacher really liked it! And on the math test, I got full marks again." Maria slaps her hand on the marble countertop excitedly, making Lewis laugh and smile proudly.

"That's amazing, Marie! I knew you'd rock it."

"My day was also very busy, you know?" Pietra leaned on the counter.

Lewis made an interested expression. "Really? What happened?"

"First, I went to the reading room to listen to a story. Then, I played with slime, because it was an important school project..." Marie held back a laugh, looking at her father. Lewis smiled, letting Pietra continue. "After the break, we played with blocks and learned the numbers from 50 to 60."

"Wow, what a long day, huh?" Lewis pretended to be very surprised.

Pietra nodded seriously. Marie finally couldn't hold back her laughter, and Lewis laughed along, shaking his head before stirring the pancake batter again. But apparently Pietra didn't even mind the laughter.

When Lewis finished preparing the pancakes, he served them to his daughters, who began to eat calmly while chatting among themselves. In the middle of their snack, his cell phone lit up on the counter with a video call from Y/n.

He picked up the phone and answered it, seeing his wife on the other side of the screen, wearing surgical clothes, with a mask around her neck and a cap on her head.

"Hi, love." Y/n smiled tiredly, but lovingly.

"Hi, most amazing doctor in the world." Lewis smiled back. "Look who called us!"

He walked over to his daughters' side and stretched out his arm to show them his daughters. Pietra, her face covered in chocolate, looked up excitedly.

"MOMMY!" She exclaimed.

"Hi, Mom!" Marie smiled waving.

"Hi, my princesses!" Y/n smiled when she saw them.

Pietra laughed when she noticed her mother's outfit. "Mommy, you look like a hospital Smurf! All in blue!!"

Marie and Lewis laughed, and Y/n followed along from the other side.

"I guess I'm a very busy Smurf today!" She joked. Y/n then sighed. "I just called to check on you guys, and to let you know that I don't know what time I'll be home. Surgery will start in a few minutes."

Marie smiled. "Don't worry, Mommy. Daddy is taking good care of us!"

Y/n looked at Lewis and smiled. "I know he is. He takes good care of you guys."

Pietra then licked her chocolate-stained lips and declared, "He made pancakes just like yours! But they're a little better because he puts in extra chocolate."

"Oh, so that's how it is? I'll have to learn this technique from daddy!" Y/n laughed.

"Of course, I'm an expert." Lewis chuckled in satisfaction.

"So, good luck with those two, love." Y/n smiled.

"Don't worry. I love you."

"I love you more." Y/n blows a kiss with her hand and they wave to each other before Y/n hangs up.

After the call, Lewis puts his cell phone in his pants pocket and turns to the girls, who continued eating.

"What do you want for dinner?" The pilot asks.

Pietra didn't hesitate. "Sushi!"

Lewis laughed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, okay. I'll get to it later then!"

As he organized the kitchen, Marie got off the stool and started helping, putting her own plate in the sink.

"I'm done!" Pietra announced.

Lewis looked at her and laughed when he saw her face covered in chocolate.

"I think we need an emergency shower here."

"No need, it's clean!" Pietra widened her eyes and tried to run away.

Lewis was quicker and picked her up. She let out a loud laugh as he grabbed a napkin and wiped her face.

"Now, really clean."

Marie, who was helping at the sink, accidentally knocked some plastic containers onto the floor, making a loud noise. Lewis turned around immediately, worried about his eldest daughter.

"Marie, are you okay?"

"I am, Daddy!" She said, bending down to pick up the jars.

"You're a bigger challenge than a race in the rain. Mom really is a superhero." Lewis put Pietra down and laughed.

Pietra's eyes widened.

"She's a real superhero! She has the power to heal people and she wears a bright pink cape with a weird blue cape!" She spoke quickly, excitedly.

Marie's eyes widened and she laughed when she heard her sister speak so quickly like that. "P, speak more slowly!"

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head as he organized the countertop, putting away the ingredients he had used and the jars that had fallen over seconds ago.

Marie continued helping in the kitchen while Pietra ran around the room, playing with Roscoe and talking nonstop. Marie looked at her father, who just laughed at the situation.

After they finished cleaning, Lewis suggested they play with Roscoe in the backyard. The girls ran ahead, followed by the dog.

"Throw it, Roscoe will fetch it." Lewis picked up a small ball and handed it to his eldest daughter.

Marie threw the ball to the other side of the yard.

Pietra, who was on the other side, without understanding, shouted: "I'LL GET IT! I'LL GET IT!"

Lewis and Marie laughed, and the older girl tried to warn, "P, NO! The ball is for Roscoe!"

But Pietra didn't hear. She looked up, ready to catch the ball, just as Roscoe ran towards her. The dog crashed into her little legs, making her fall backwards.

Neither of them caught the ball.

Lewis, from the porch, began to laugh out loud and sat down on the steps to catch his breath. Marie also laughed a lot next to her father, in disbelief that P competed with Roscoe to catch a ball.

Pietra got up and walked towards the two, sulking at the dog, while the dog himself walked happily behind her wagging his tail.

"Daddy, fight with Roscoe! He made me fall!"

"Oh, he did?" Lewis was still laughing.

"Of course, P, you went to get the ball that was meant for him!" Marie crossed her arms, amused.

Pietra sat on the floor, looking at Roscoe, who was now playing with the ball near Lewis.

"Traitor." She muttered sullenly.

Lewis and Marie laughed louder.

They spent hours playing in the backyard, with Pietra insisting on playing catch with Roscoe, which made Lewis and Marie laugh a lot.

Afterwards, they went home and Lewis asked what each of them wanted and ordered dinner. Pietra would finally have her sushi, and Marie ordered pasta from that Italian restaurant they loved. Each of them had their favorite food for dinner, and the night went on peacefully, with laughter and light conversation, while they waited for Y/n to come home.

When bath time arrived, Marie hummed upstairs and entered the bathroom in her room without hesitation. Pietra, on the other hand, tried to argue with her father that she didn't need a bath that day.

"Dad, I don't need a bath today. I took one yesterday!" She said, walking backwards as she ran away from Lewis.

Lewis laughed, already expecting this attempt. "P, everyone needs a bath every day."

"But I'm clean!" She opens her arms.

"Are you sure?" Lewis pointed to a chocolate stain on her shirt.

Pietra looked down and, not knowing what to say, she snorted and began to climb the stairs with firm steps. "Okay, but only because you insist so much!"

Lewis chuckled as he watched her head to her room.

A short time later, Marie came down, already showered and with slightly wet hair, with a hairbrush in her hand. She jumped down the last few steps of the stairs and saw Lewis sitting on the sofa, and then handed the brush to her father and sat down next to him on the sofa.

"Daddy, help me?"

"Sure, come here." Lewis turned around and began to comb his daughter's hair carefully.

Seconds later, Pietra appeared in the room already in her pajamas, with her hair still a little messy, but not washed, and Lewis frowned.

"Did you really take a shower?" He asked, still combing Marie's hair.

"Yes!" Pietra replied, convinced.

Lewis looked at the clock on his phone. From the moment she went upstairs until now, it had only been seven minutes.

"Are you sure?" He insisted, holding back a laugh.

Pietra crossed her arms. "Daddy, I'm fast! And I also stopped time, so the bath flew by!"

"Oh, I see. You have powers now." Lewis laughed out loud, shaking his head.

"Yes! Just like mommy."

"Mommy doesn't have superpowers!" Marie glances at her sister.

Pietra looks at her older sister and sticks out her tongue, causing Lewis to turn to the younger one and reprimand her for the action.

He handed the brush to Marie, who thanked him and quickly went upstairs to put it in her room. Pietra took advantage and climbed onto the couch, laying her head on her father. Lewis put one of his arms around her, cuddling her.

"As soon as Marie gets back, we'll pick something to watch."

Pietra nodded and after a few seconds, she looked at Lewis. "Daddy, do you think Mommy is done with the surgery?"

Lewis looked at his phone to see if he had a message from his wife. "Not yet. She'll text him when she's on her way home."

"Oh, okay."

Marie came running and threw herself on the sofa next to her father, laughing.

Lewis smiled and wrapped his other arm around his eldest daughter. If they had another baby, he would have to do three turns to hug them all at once.

"So what are we going to watch?" Lewis picked up the TV remote.

"Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs!" Pietra said excitedly.

"Cinderella!" Marie replied instantly.

They leaned in and looked at each other, neither willing to give in.

"You guys are impossible. One wants one thing, the other wants something completely different!" Lewis laughed.

"Snow White!" Pietra repeated.

"Cinderella!" Marie insisted.

"What's this? Red Bull versus Mercedes now?" He laughs and the girls don't get the joke, and then not knowing what to make of the situation, Lewis asks. "And what does mommy do when you can't come to an agreement?"

The two looked at each other and then looked at their father.

"She chooses the cartoon..." Marie shrugged.

"Great! Today I choose!" Lewis smiled with satisfaction.

The girls laughed, and he put on Alice in Wonderland.

"Did you know that was Mommy's favorite cartoon when she was little?" Lewis says and the girls smile, still looking at the TV as the cartoon starts.

"Mommy has great taste!" Marie smiled, looking at the screen and Pietra nodded.

"If we have one more sister, we can call her Alice."

Lewis laughed. "Okay, P. I'll talk to Mom about that possibility."

While the film was playing, Pietra asked several questions about the story, intrigued by the scenes. Marie, calmer, just watched, until, halfway through the film, sleep began to overcome her. Little by little, she leaned on her father's arm and fell asleep. A short time later, Pietra, who was still trying to resist, also ended up closing her eyes and falling asleep before the film ended.

With the TV still on, Lewis looked at the girls and smiled. Marie was sleeping against him, and Pietra was lying on his shoulder. He sighed with a smile, knowing that now he would need to take them to bed.

First, he carefully picked Marie up and went upstairs. In her room, he laid her down gently, placing the blanket over her body. He kissed her on the forehead and turned off the main light and the lamp before leaving silently.

He then went back to pick up Pietra, who grumbled a little in her sleep, but soon settled into her father's chest. In her room, Lewis put her to bed and covered her with the duvet. Before leaving, he noticed that the flags on the wall were falling down, so he straightened them, smiling when he noticed that the Brazilian flag was still hanging next to the UK flag.

As soon as he left Pietra's room, Lewis took his cell phone out of his pocket and saw a new message from Y/n.

Love❤️: Hi, love. The surgery is over and I'm heading home now. How was your day with the girls? Did you survive?"

He smiled tiredly and replied:

Lewis: Mission completed successfully. The girls are already asleep and I survived. But I still think you have superpowers to handle all this every day."

Seconds later, Y/n replied:

Love❤️: I'm a superhero. But my biggest trick is leaving the hard parts for you when I'm away.

He laughed to himself and typed:

Lewis: Smart!! Now I'm going to the kitchen to clean up the mess from dinner. See you later, love.

Before heading into the kitchen, he turned off the TV and remembered Pietra's comment about having a sister named Alice. Laughing, he went into the kitchen, where the sink was still full of dishes from dinner.

Minutes passed and Lewis was in the kitchen, finishing tidying everything up. The sound of the door opening and the keys being placed in the holder on the wall made him smile, knowing exactly who it was.

Soon, Y/n's light footsteps echoed across the floor as she walked to the kitchen, holding a box of sweets in her hands. When she arrived, she found Lewis washing one last glass, and smiled when she saw him there. Without hesitation, she placed the box on the table and quickly went to her husband. Lewis, seeing her approach, put down the glass and pulled her in for a kiss.

Their lips met in a perfect fit, and the kiss began slowly, full of longing and affection. Lewis slid one of his hands to her waist, squeezing lightly as he felt the sweet taste she had on her lips. Y/n sighed against his mouth before pulling away slowly, her face slightly flushed.

She smiled. "Looks like someone survived a whole day alone with the girls."

Lewis let out a low chuckle. "I survived, and without a scratch." He replied with an amused smile, as Y/n walked around the counter again and sat on the high stool in front of him.

"Good to know. So, how was your day with our little ones?"

Lewis rested his hands on the counter and began to count. "Well, it started with Pietra insisting that she wanted sushi for lunch."

"Sushi? For lunch?" Y/n's eyes widened.

"Exactly. I explained that it wasn't that simple, but she looked at me with those little eyes and said: 'But I've already made arrangements with my belly, Daddy! She wants sushi!'"

"P has some great arguments sometimes!" Y/n burst out laughing.

"And while I was trying to convince her that we could order sushi for dinner, Marie needed help with a school project. I ended up putting her in the office so she could be comfortable and guess what? She grabbed one of my headphones and said the only way she could concentrate was with the sound of a car engine in the background."

Y/n slapped her forehead, laughing, "That's your daughter all over! I wouldn't be surprised if she fell asleep to the sound of an F1 engine running."

"I wasn't going to complain." Lewis shrugged with a proud smile. He went on to tell how Pietra had gotten mad because Roscoe had gotten the ball before her. "She crossed her arms and said he cheated, that it had to be fair, and that she was going to call a referee."

"Oh my god! She's so dramatic!" Y/n laughed, shaking her head.

"I think she learned from you."

"Hey!" She feigned indignation, and the two of them laughed together.

Then Lewis looked at Y/n and asked, "What about you? How was the surgery you assisted with today?"

Y/n shifted in her seat. "Oh, it was amazing! I was in the audience and the skin graft procedure was going on. The surgeon was extremely careful, he explained everything in detail, and I was able to follow every step. It was surreal to see the addition of skin to the wounds and the precision with which everything was done."

Lewis listened to her attentively, a smile on his lips. "And did you manage to handle everything well?"

"Yes! The patient was fine, the surgery was a success, and the entire team was super competent. But, as unique as it was, I realized that I definitely wouldn't work in a hospital. I prefer my office."

Lewis laughed. "I knew it! You like the clinical side, the more direct patient care."

"Exactly!" Y/n agreed.

"Oh, speaking of which... Pietra thought it was funny that you were wearing the surgical cap and started running around the kitchen saying that you were a superhero who healed people. According to her, you had a shiny cape and a weird cap."

"Oh my god!" Y/n laughed out loud. "I love her creativity."

"And still speaking of Pietra's adventures..." Lewis began, amused. "We went to see a movie and ended up watching Alice in Wonderland. I mentioned that it was her favorite movie and Pietra said that, if she had another sister, she wanted to call her Alice."

Y/n blinked a few times, processing the information. She felt her heart race, her hands sweat and an involuntary smile appear on her lips, but she hid it well.

"Oh yeah? So now Pietra is planning names for future siblings? Interesting."

"Yeah, I think she's already thinking about the future." Lewis laughed.

Y/n smiled and got up from the bench, going to the table to get the box of cupcakes. Her heart was beating fast in her chest as she said, "I brought cupcakes for our children."

She placed the box on the counter and opened it, revealing two pink cupcakes and one white one. Lewis looked at it and smiled.

"They'll love it!" Then he frowned and leaned against the counter. "But there are three! They'll fight over the last one." The pilot laughed, not realizing what his wife was trying to say through the sweets.

"They won't, because it's right!" Y/n laughed, biting her lower lip lightly.

Lewis still didn't understand. "No, there are two of them and they..." He stopped, his eyes widening in realization.

Y/n smiled and, with her hand shaking slightly, took something from her coat pocket, placing a positive pregnancy test on the counter.

"I told you I was right! A cupcake for each of our children!"

Lewis’s eyes instantly filled with tears. He looked at the test, the smile growing on his face. “You’re kidding, right?”

"No, it's not a joke. I'm pregnant, Lew!" Y/n was already crying with happiness, while nodding her head in agreement.

He smiled even wider and pulled her into a tight hug. Y/n cried softly on his shoulder, but with joy.

Lewis gave an excited laugh. "How did this happen?"

Y/n pulled out of the hug laughing. "Lew, what do you mean? How are babies made?"

He rolled his eyes, laughing. "No, honey! I meant when you found out!"

"I found out this morning at the hospital. I had been feeling unwell for a few days, I could feel my body changing... I had a blood test and it came back positive too." She smiled.

"I'm a father of three now." Lewis smiled, letting a few tears fall.

"Yes, Sir Hamilton, now you have a trio to look after." Y/n laughed. He hugged her again. "Pietra was already right, choosing names before she even knew."

Lewis laughed and shook her lightly.

"That girl has a gift." He pulled back a little, cupping his wife's face. "How many weeks?"

"Six weeks."

Lewis chuckled softly, his eyes shining. "Well, then what we did in Vegas didn't stay in Vegas."

Y/n let out a loud laugh, throwing her head back. "It definitely wasn't."

Lewis laughed and kissed her.

The kiss was sweet and full of emotion. His hands held her face tenderly, while their lips moved in perfect synchrony. It was a kiss full of promise and happiness. When they broke apart, Lewis smiled, his eyes still shining.

"I couldn't be happier!!" He smiles. "You make me the happiest man in the world, love!!" Lewis hugs his wife again, who is also laughing like an idiot at the news. "My superhero."

Author: I don't know how to continue this saga...you can give me ideas or I'll just end it here. I don't know...😭

[maxdibert]

Personal view, as someone who grew up in an abusive environment and is hyper-reactive to seeing children in distress or being mistreated by adults, including in fictional depictions, I never felt the kids in Harry Potter were in any danger from Snape. He’s bitchy and snarky, yes. But no more so than other teachers in Hogwarts. And from what I’ve experienced in the fandom, a lot of Snape fans are abuse survivors in some shape or form. He’s a complex character, and unlike a lot of fictional abuse survivors, he can actually be angry and rage. It’s very cathartic for people who have had to mask and suppress their negative emotions in real life.

It's curious how most Severus fans tend to be survivors of bullying or people who see themselves reflected in him because they went through similar experiences in school, or people who have experienced violence at home. Meanwhile, the haters are simply kids who have a terrible teacher and project that onto Snape, so they hate him.

If we're going to play the "I had terrible teachers, so I know how it feels" card, then I can use that too. Not only did I have terrible teachers—so bad that what they did was absolutely reportable and punishable—but in university, I even had professors who LITERALLY made students cry with their critiques. And yes, I’m very angry with those teachers. Even though I wasn’t always a direct victim, thinking about the teachers from my old school fills me with rage. And yes, whenever I’ve run into some of them on the street, I’ve made sure to say something to them in a super passive-aggressive way.

But the thing is, I don’t see any of them in Severus. Not a single one.

Severus has always reminded me of a literature teacher I had in my last years of school. He was a guy who taught classes to make some money while finishing his university doctorate—clearly, his goal was to be a researcher or teach at a university level. And you could tell from a mile away that he HATED having to teach teenagers. But hey, the school paycheck was good, right? I’m not going to blame him for that. The thing is, he had a degree in Philosophy and Literature and had a level way above that of a regular high school teacher.

I remember he was young. At the time, he seemed like an old man to me because when you're 16, anyone over 20 seems ancient, but he probably wasn’t even 35 yet. The thing is, he had no patience for nonsense. He hated childish antics in class, got annoyed by dumb questions, and if he explained something and someone asked the exact same thing two minutes later, he would clearly get irritated. I remember once a kid told him he had just read the latest Dan Brown novel, and this guy, with the most cunty smirk, said, "Well, I wouldn't know about that, Mr. X. I don't read mass-market literature." And it was like… lol why so mean? But I found it hilarious.

He was the only teacher who called us by our last names and never used informal speech, which was shocking to us because it never happened with other teachers. He rarely attended staff meetings or team dinners (a teacher who was actually abusive and spent entire classes physically humiliating 15-year-olds used to complain about that a lot). You almost never saw him interacting with other teachers because, honestly, I’ve always had the feeling that he thought his colleagues were idiots—and I don’t blame him. If I worked with that bunch today, I’d think they were idiots too.

Now, this guy was strict. Very strict. If you got a 4.9, he wasn’t giving you a 5, because you didn’t get a 5. He wasn’t going to be nice to you unless he thought it was strictly necessary. He wasn’t going to be warm, he wasn’t going to be friendly, he wasn’t going to be funny. He despised mainstream literature and bestsellers, believed certain books were absolute garbage, and thought people who only read that kind of stuff didn’t actually understand literature and lacked the braincells for it. You could agree or disagree with him, but his behavior wasn’t abusive.

Was he sometimes too blunt? Did he have incredibly sharp, sometimes unpleasant responses? Yes. And, funnily enough, this teacher was widely disliked precisely because he was one of the strictest ones. He was hated even more than the guy who groped female students or the one who called kids fat, gave them weight-loss tips, and told girls they dressed like prostitutes if they wore certain tops. But those guys used informal speech, gave you a 5 if you got a 4.6, and weren’t that strict, so people didn’t hate them as much.

That’s why Severus always reminded me of this guy. Ironically, I really liked him because I appreciated his sardonic, sharp humor, and he appreciated that I had read One Hundred Years of Solitude at 12 lol. But above all, he liked that, even though I never paid attention in his classes because I physically couldn’t focus on a lecture for more than 10 minutes, I never disrupted anything. I never got caught talking, never caused trouble—I was just drawing my stuff or reading things unrelated to the lesson, but I wasn’t bothering anyone.

And honestly, I think that’s all Severus wanted from his students: for them not to be a pain in his ass. And if he was an even bigger jerk to some, it was precisely because they got on his nerves the most.

The Weasley twins were total chaos and constantly acting like fools, yet they never have a bad word to say about Snape throughout the saga besides that he was kinda mean sometimes. Why is that? Maybe because they didn’t put the whole class in danger? Maybe because, while they were insufferable in the hallways, they knew they had to tone it down in Potions?

Only two people have a real problem with Severus as a teacher throughout the saga: one is Harry, who disrespects him from day one, constantly challenges him, talks back, breaks the rules, and does exactly the opposite of what Severus tells him. The other is Neville, who basically exists to give Severus seven consecutive nervous breakdowns in a single class.

That doesn’t make you an abuser—it makes you an adult who is sick to death of two pain-in-the-ass kids.

[itsnesss]

Please ignore if I’ve already sent this. If you are able to, I’d love to request a story about Min Ho and reader where they are both students at university (or just students at KISS- whichever you want). He notices that she isn’t acting like herself and is just not having him teasingly flirting with her. He discovers that she has a fever high fever after she collapses while trying to get her bike from the bike stand (a la “My Love Story at Level 99 with Yamada- I love that scene.) he takes her to her dorm/apartment but she’s unable to keep water down, so he takes her to the hospital. Eventually he takes her back to rest at her dorm/apartment and he falls asleep resting against the window. Honestly, as long as he takes care of feverish reader I’m all in!

𝐟𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 | minho (xo,kitty) × fem!reader

summary | the request. you fall ill and faint, but minho quickly steps in, carrying you to his room and later to the hospital. he takes care of you with constant concern, offering comfort and protection as you rest, creating a warm, caring atmosphere

warnings | fluff (comforting moments, caring gestures), fever, fainting, illness, hospital visit, physical care

word count | 1.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The day had started like any other at KISS. The sun shone through the large windows of the building, and the students of your university walked the halls between classes. But something was wrong with you. Since the morning, you had felt a strange discomfort, a kind of weakness you couldn’t identify, but you thought it was just tiredness. It wasn’t until you went out to the courtyard to take your bike from the rack that you knew for sure: something wasn’t right.

You wobbled slightly as you tried to balance yourself on your bike, the air felt dense, and your legs were giving out. Sweat trickled down your forehead, and the world around you seemed to spin. That was when everything went dark. The ground came toward you with alarming speed, and you closed your eyes, bracing for the impact.

Min Ho had been nearby, close enough to see you lose your balance and fall. His reaction was immediate, running to you within seconds, his face showing a look of concern.

“Hey! Are you okay?” he asked, his voice filled with alarm as he helped you sit up.

The world kept spinning, and it took you a moment to find words. You could only whisper, “I’m fine,” but your voice sounded much weaker than you wanted.

Min Ho looked at you closely, and that was when his expression changed. He noticed the paleness of your face and the sweat on your forehead. What worried him the most, however, was the heat radiating from you. Without hesitation, he scooped you up in his arms.

“Come on, I’ll take you,” he said firmly, but with a gentleness that surprised you.

Despite your resistance, you couldn’t deny that just the thought of moving made you feel worse. His arms were strong yet careful, and before you could protest, you were already on your way to his destination. He took you to his room, though you knew that what you really needed was rest. It was clear something else was happening with your body, and the fever wasn’t something you could ignore.

Once you arrived, he laid you down on his bed without commenting on your state. He handed you a glass of water, but you barely managed to take a sip before the liquid came right back up. A knot formed in your stomach.

“Don’t worry,” Min Ho said, placing his hand on your forehead to check your temperature. “You have a fever, but I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

The seconds seemed to stretch as you looked at him. He didn’t leave your side for even a moment, and your mind felt completely foggy. The fever made you feel weak, dazed, and unable to think clearly. Still, you felt comforted by his presence.

Min Ho went to the kitchen for a moment, returning with some medicine and a bottle of water that, for some reason, seemed easier to swallow. He helped you take the pills, his protective attitude leaving no doubt about how seriously he took the situation.

“Now, stay here. I’ll take you to the hospital if this doesn’t get better,” he said, but his soft tone indicated he would rather not do that. He didn’t want things to get that serious.

Despite your exhaustion and the nightmares that seemed to haunt you with each blink, you managed to keep the water inside you for a little longer. Min Ho didn’t leave your side for a second. He sat in the chair by the window, watching you in silence as you settled under the blankets.

The silence you shared was different from before, when you’d joke and laugh. Now, everything felt much more personal, much more peaceful. His concern for you was palpable, and although he didn’t say it, you could see that nothing mattered more to him than making sure you were feeling better.

As the hours passed, the fever didn’t break, and he, true to his word, finally took you to the hospital. The ride was uncomfortable and long, but he never left your side. His eyes didn’t leave you for a single moment. In the clinic, they gave you a quick checkup, confirming you had a high fever, but it wasn’t anything too serious.

“We’ll prescribe you some antibiotics. You should rest as much as possible,” the doctor said, handing you the medicine. Min Ho, not wasting a second, helped you out of the place and guided you back to his apartment.

Although the fever didn’t go away completely, your body began to relax a little. The night approached, and exhaustion slowly overtook you. Min Ho settled by the window, his body leaning against the wall as he watched the city lights.

“Sleep,” he whispered to you. “I’ll be here.

You felt the weight of the fever, but the warmth of his presence gave you a sense of security. Finally, you fell into a deep sleep, with the soft sound of his breathing as your only companion.

Min Ho didn’t move from his spot. He only watched you while you rested, the concern still visible on his face. But as the minutes passed, his own eyes began to close, the exhaustion from all the care taking its toll.

In the end, both of you slept soundly, the fever slowly subsiding under the constant watch of someone who had shown, in every small gesture, what it meant to take care of someone.

[sunnydayaoe]

For the character ask game

Fresh, 2, 5 and 10 :D

referring to this. hard questions actually!

yapping for just sooooo long under cut woof

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

I can't really pick X[. I genuinely just like all his canon material, the reason I've been obsessed with him for years. I like how much of an asshole he is, seeing himself as genuinely better than those around him and deserving of Better things, I like how his wild oscillations on his self image, his extremely fraught relationship to positive emotions and those who are able to let him feel them. there really isn't something about him I would say I didn't like, even a little. He has a lot of things that just make him very relatable as well, in his canon personality, that I usually don't see in characters. His aroaceness of course, but I also like sillier things about him. He likes kissing people a lot, he's very grabby most of the time, he's colorful! His put on character he plays "the 90's freak" is cute as heck. I just enjoy whatever he does. I like his canon so much I erm. dislike most non-canon complaint hcs or interpretations [that aren't surface level design changes] being honest HAHA. obsessed with canon fresh.

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

I don't know X[[[ even harder qeustion... I don't erm. listen to music...? not a music person unfortunately. I guess. "The Main Character" by Will Wood. Doesn't fit fully to me, but I do enjoy the framing oneself as both a character and one that you Like. It also has a lot of his entitlement and the way he sees himself as Deserving of better than the vast majority of people. Also the quite part is very him to me... nervous and convincing, "I must be good enough!! you have to like me!! I can't die!!!!" its verryyyy him to me. Again, not fully him [Fresh wouldn't see himself as the main character] but a tertiary one who has a dedicated fanbase, but I do like it.

10. Could you be best friends with this character?

He's kinda half terrified half pissed the fuck off at the creators; I really don't think he'd Want to be friends. or it would be way to unbalanced for it to be true friendship, he'd always be on guard and want to impress me/want me to like him, and intern slowly grow more and more resentful of the power I have over him. On my end, would I actually enjoy being friends with him... he activates a lot of chemicals my irl Real best friends and partner do, because of erm. mental illness. Horrible little freak has crawled into [chosen person] zone and its genuinely a little embarrassing. So I'd definitely try my hardest to do literally anything to get him to like me, like uh, I do with the rest of my chp haha. It would just freak him out though, even if I was in universe and not a creator, the idea of someone not being... self-serving? If I was too giving with him, it would make him start second guessing things. He doesn't just assume people are being selfless. What am I gaining from this? what do I want from him? it can't JUST be that I like him, there needs to be more. I don't think I'm selfless enough to pull off the like... type of people Fresh actually Believed to be fully selfless. SO yepp the distrust would go harddddd [like it would be selfish, because I would probably be obsessed with him in the same way I am of a very select few people, but like. it doesn't Read as selfish on an outside perspective, which is what he would have.]

[Extra for 5, I have like. fifty cb and fresh songs... "Feel Better" by Penelope Scott, "Cosmos" by Yabadum and "Love Like You" by Rebecca suger all make me feel INSNAEEE [non-romantic interpretations of the songs]]

[iguessitsjustme]

The Boy Next World Ep 7 Thoughts

Everyone be proud of me I left the house today and was social. It was great. Even if it meant I couldn't watch shows until later. It's good for me to not be a hermit every once in a while. But now. It is time. If you had told me a month ago that I would be enjoying both a Jittirain show AND a MAME show at the same time, I would have looked at you like you had two heads, seven arms, and drank the sun out of an enchanted goblet. But that's what's happening. Shoutout Perfect 10 Liners can't wait to see where that show is going with this final couple. But you aren't here for that. You are reading this because for some reason y'all like my liveblogs. I'm just a silly little guy posting some thoughts and some of you seem to enjoy my thoughts and I appreciate y'all and love y'all. And you can continue to find my thoughts under the cut:

At some point in this watch, I will be interrupted by my pizza being delivered. I hope. Otherwise that pizza is taking too long to get to me.

Awww cuddle babies

It concerns me that every time I try to watch this show, screaming children appear outside my apartment.

Phu's friends are so incredibly caring.

I get Phu. He goes alone every year. Even though he has so many friends that would be willing to go with him and support him in his grief. I, too, prefer to grieve alone. I think him agreeing to let Cir be there was a little bit for him but more for Cir. Because he knew how worried Cir would be if he went alone.

This theme song still slaps.

I still don't understand the hourglass. And I have decided I don't need to understand it. Just like last week, I'm just vibin. Very mind off show for me. I am enjoying just letting this show do whatever it wants forever. I want this show to blow my mind which means I gotta turn my mind off to ignore some things. So I am actually having a great time. Love all the characters and honestly as long as I love the characters, I'm going to like a show even if the plot is whack. I don't think this plot is whack though. I'm rambling. Someone stop me…oh a message. Perfect timing to stop the ramble. God bless

This is me on a tuk tuk

Also I was so confused when I saved this screenshot because there were none for episode 6 and then I had to remember I didn't have my laptop last weekend. Those were dark times. Dark times indeed.

Awww hand holding. They're sweet

That means this episode is gonna hurt me

Fuck yeah pizza time! Right when our boys start to eat. Thank GOD. I was starving.

I don't care what the show tells me about Phu's mom. I hate her for abandoning her child to deal with his grief on his own. Yeah, she was grieving but she put her own emotional needs over that of her CHILD. And I cannot forgive her for that. Poor Phu.

This show loves mirrors. I wonder why this show called *checks notes* The Boy Next World with implications of *looks down at notes again* parallel worlds loves mirrors so much.

I also love the mirrors. Love a good mirror shot.

Oh this lie is hurting both of them right now so much. "Why does that world Phu have a Cir and I don't" oh baby boy you're breaking my heart. Phu is literally just the sweetest little bean. I hope Cir confesses soon and gets forgiven and they can be in love and happy forever. They don't even need to worry about Cir's mom cause I'll just hire some *cough cough* hitmen to take care of it (they might be retired but I think I can convince them to make an exception. Y'all know they don't like evil mothers)

Why was Cir on that street in the past? Was he stalking Phu? Did he just happen to be there? To be clear, I don't care about the answer, I just want to know.

JIN AND WIM MY BELOVEDS.

Are these two healthy? No. Do I love them? Yes.

I love that Phu does let his friends see him every year but only after he goes alone to see his dad. There's something about that specifically that just hits for me.

Same actor for Thorn. Appreciated. However the implications about this universe now are hilarious to me. Somewhere in TharnType there must be a mind reader. Just because it is so funny. Take this world with complete zero supernatural elements and then in a different show years later, just add some. They were always there but hidden to everyone.

Cir if you don't tell this baby boy soon, I will be throwing hands with you. As much as I love you, I will cut you if you do not confess and put my sweet little angel out of his misery

Boy if there's an unspoken rule not to disturb Phu, why you there? (Do not misunderstand I think him showing up is actually very sweet. Checking on his baby cousin and all).

I love the use of piano in this show.

Don't ask me if this soundtrack is good. I don't know. But what I do know is that I enjoy it. Overall as a soundtrack, I'm pretty sure it's mid, but my god do I vibe with all of the choices it's made. So I'm biased.

Did y'all hear that? That was me screaming

I'm not a fan of kissing to shut someone up. I'm also not a fan of kissing without consent. However, here, I'm gonna ignore that because I love these two and also Jin can read Wim's mind and he knows that Jin felt something earlier. I also think Jin is about to push Wim off of him and scold him too. Very old school of this couple and weirdly, I'm not mad at it. Who have I become?

Why is there light on only one side. WHY IS ONE SIDE DARK.

And now it's Cir in the light? What does it MEAN. No one tell me I don't want to know.

Fully in the dark now. Surely, that has nothing to do with Cir's LIE and how Phu loves him yet doesn't know he gets to keep him forever and forever and forever.

Cir comes in and brings the light with him. Lighting up Phu but remaining in the dark himself until he walks himself into Phu's light (that he brought). I'm sure this means nothing.

Screaming children go AHWAY

I suppose I'll allow it. Since it's not another guitar.

Okay this is for sure not the song he is playing. Or at least they definitely overlaid it. But as far as instrument playing goes, I can believe he plays the flute at least a little.

Just a little. I'm not a flautist but it seemed about 1/10 realistic to me but considering what I've seen in the past, I will gladly take that. *stares OMSN right in the eyeballs*

These two. Always with the tongue.

FINGERS IN THE MOUTH CIR YOU INSANE MAN

Should have confessed the secret before sleeping with him.

Dark and light side of the bed again. Again, sure it means NOTHING.

Phu is actually an excellent communicator.

I told y'all they were too cute in the beginning and therefore this episode would hurt me and NOW LOOK WHAT THEY'VE DONE

I BEG YOUR PARDON

Now did this show really need this specific drama?

Yes. Yes it did. I don't care. Give me ALL the dramatics.

THE FUCK

[sweetvoidstuff]

Dont be Scared - Gravity and Gold (5)

Jungkoo x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) wants a normal university life, hiding her gravity powers, while Jungkook strives to be a perfect hero. When villains attack their campus, she is forced to make a choice—stay hidden or fight. Their encounter changes everything.

Masterlist

Story List

Wordcount: ~1000

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, please let me know—I’d love to hear your thoughts. I plan to publish one chapter per week, so stay tuned for more!

Chapter 5: Dont be Scared

Jungkook wasn’t the type to let things go.

You learned that quickly.

Even though he had promised to "drop it," he never really did. He wasn’t following you anymore—not exactly. But somehow, he always found you. Whether it was at a food stall, a crowded train station, or a quiet rooftop where you thought you could finally breathe, Jungkook was there. Watching. Waiting.

And worst of all? He wasn’t the only one paying attention to you.

The news cycle after the battle was relentless. Reports of the attack played on every screen in the city, clips of Jungkook’s lightning tearing through the battlefield, interviews with high-ranking officials praising the heroes’ victory. But there was something else. Something smaller—but important.

A single grainy security cam video.

It was blurry, barely showing anything beyond shifting shadows, but you knew exactly what it was. What it showed.

A figure moving unnaturally, gravity twisting around them.

You.

The video was short, but it was enough to raise questions. Speculation flooded online forums. Who was this person? Another hero? A new recruit? Someone in training?

The Hero Program remained silent.

But you weren’t naïve. Silence didn’t mean they weren’t looking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time Jungkook found you, it wasn’t in some random street or crowded café.

It was your apartment.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you found him sitting on the steps outside, twirling a coin between his fingers, sparks of golden electricity flickering at his fingertips.

"You shouldn’t be here," you muttered, stepping past him to unlock your door.

Jungkook pocketed the coin. "Yeah, well, neither should you."

You shot him a look. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

He exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair. "They’re asking questions about you."

Your fingers tightened around your keys.

"You should’nt have left after the fight," he continued. "Instead, you run. Now people are looking for you—and not just me."

You swallowed hard. "Did you tell them?" you hated that you sounded so scared.

"No," Jungkook admitted. "But it’s only a matter of time before someone finds out something."

There was something different about the way he looked at you now. Before, it had been curiosity—mild annoyance at your stubbornness. But now?

Now, it was something heavier.

"You’re hiding something," he said, voice quiet but firm. "And I need to know why."

"You need to know jack shit," you shot back.

Jungkook clenched his jaw. "You don’t trust me."

You laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Why would I?"

He didn’t answer right away. For the first time, he actually looked frustrated—like he couldn’t understand why this was such a big deal to you.

"Y/N…right?," he said slowly, "I know the Hero Program. I am the Hero Program. If there’s something you’re not telling me, something you’re afraid of, I can help."

You took a step back. "No, you can’t."

Jungkook’s expression darkened. "Why not?"

You hesitated. For a split second, you considered telling him. Telling him everything. But then you saw the way he looked at you—the same way every hero looked at something they couldn’t figure out.

Not as a person.

As a puzzle to be solved.

You turned away. "Because I don’t need saving."

Then you disappeared into your apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The underground training center was quiet at this hour. Most heroes had already finished their drills for the day, leaving only a few stragglers behind.

Jungkook sat on one of the benches, his arms resting over the back, his fingers absentmindedly sparking with tiny jolts of electricity. Across from him, his friends—Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok—watched him with varying levels of amusement and concern.

"So let me get this straight," Yoongi drawled, leaning back against the wall, flames flickering at his fingertips. "You’ve been stalking some mystery girl for days—not because she’s a villain, not because she’s in danger, but because she told you to leave her alone?"

Jungkook scowled. "I’m not stalking her."

"Could’ve fooled me," Hoseok snorted, stretching his legs out in front of him. His speedster reflexes made him constantly fidgety, his fingers tapping against his knees. "You’re obsessed."

Jimin, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke. "She’s the gravity user from the battle, isn’t she?"

Jungkook’s gaze snapped to him.

"Yeah," Jimin said, nodding to himself. "Figured. The way you fought together—it was like you already knew each other."

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, frustration rolling off of him in waves. "That’s the thing. I don’t know her. But she’s strong—stronger than most trainees here. And she wants nothing to do with us."

Yoongi raised a brow. "So? Not everyone wants to play hero."

"But why?" Jungkook insisted. "People like her—people with that kind of power—don’t just slip through the cracks. The Hero Program finds them, trains them. But she’s nowhere in the system. It’s like she doesn’t exist."

Jimin frowned. "That is weird."

Hoseok tilted his head. "Maybe she’s hiding something."

"Or maybe she just doesn’t want to be part of the system," Yoongi said, watching Jungkook carefully. "Not everyone wants to be a hero, you know."

Jungkook sighed, rubbing his face. "Yeah, she made that pretty clear."

Yoongi’s flames dimmed. His voice was quieter when he spoke next. "Look, man. If she doesn’t want to be found, maybe you should respect that."

Jungkook stared down at his hands, watching the lightning flicker between his fingertips.

"I can’t," he muttered.

"Why?" Jimin asked.

Jungkook looked up, his expression unreadable.

"Because I think she’s scared of us."

Silence fell over the group.

And for the first time, none of them had an answer.

[libraryleopard]

Gothic fantasy novella set in 1920s London

Follows teenage socialite Julia as her distant cousin, Simon, comes to study under her powerful magician mother and his ability to see ghosts begins to uncover dark family secrets

Julia is bi, Simon is gay and Jewish

Mixes humor and coming-of-age with some heavier aspects

No romance

Reminded me a bit of Diana Wynne Jones in tone

[puppppppppy]

act 4 :(

@chipper-smol and i came to a realization

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Do you like sci-fi and indie animation? Check out Monkey Wrench!