#thought about them again just typing this

[nekoashiii]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Not Now!

Pairings: Platonic!Lads men x Their kid

Summary: Your husband is calling your phone, but a little gremlin keeps declining it.

Requested by: @mitskunicheesecake

Notes: Zayne and Xavier will be on part 2

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Sylus

Sylus sat in his office, fingers drumming against the desk as he stared at his phone. His calls kept going to voicemail. No, not voicemail—his calls were being declined.

He narrowed his eyes, dialing again.

"Come on, sweetheart, pick up," he muttered under his breath.

The phone rang once. Twice. Then—

Call declined.

Sylus exhaled sharply through his nose, irritation prickling beneath his skin. He had told you to keep your phone close. You were out running errands, and he didn’t like when he couldn’t reach you. With the kind of business he ran, being unreachable meant something could be wrong.

Still, he tried again.

Declined.

His jaw tightened.

This time, instead of calling again, he switched to texting.

Sylus: Sweetheart, answer your phone.

No response.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. He was about to send luke and kieran. Then, A message.

Your Number: No.

Sylus blinked.

No?

His fingers immediately moved to type, but before he could, another message came through.

Your Number: Go away.

His eyes narrowed. That didn’t sound like you. Not exactly. What happened to you? Did E.V.E.R get their hands on you?

His phone rang. A video call.

He answered immediately, expecting to see your face. Instead, a small figure appeared on the screen, curled up on your side of the bed, holding your phone in tiny hands. Their round face scrunched up in annoyance.

"Daddy," Elena huffed. "Stop calling Mommy."

Sylus let out a slow breath, his irritation flickering into something amused. "Is that why my calls are being declined?"

Elena nodded, her little fingers tapping at the screen. "You’re too loud. Mommy’s busy. She said she’ll be home soon."

Sylus leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand down his face. "You’re hanging up on me, aren’t you?"

"Uh-huh," she said sweetly. "Bye-bye, Daddy. I wanna watch yutuube"

The call ended.

Sylus stared at his phone for a long moment, his amusement fading into something else. His little girl had declined him—multiple times. And worse, she hadn’t even looked guilty about it.

With a sigh, he pushed back his chair and stood. Work could wait.

When Sylus stepped into the house, it was quiet.

He slipped off his jacket, draping it over the couch before making his way to the bedroom. The door was slightly open, and when he pushed it wider, he found his daughter still curled up in bed, your phone clutched in her small hands.

She looked up, her big red eyes widening when she saw him.

"Daddy!"

"Princess," Sylus said, voice slow, deliberate. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, watching as she quickly tucked the phone under the pillow. "I see you’ve been busy."

She blinked, tilting her head. "Mommy is busy," she corrected.

"Is that so?" He reached forward and grabbed her, pulling her onto his lap despite her squeal of protest. "Now, tell me, Princess. What should I do with a little girl who ignores her father?"

She squirmed. "Nothing!"

"Nothing?" His grip tightened slightly, just enough to make her giggle again. "Are you sure about that?"

Elena kicked her legs, laughter bubbling up. "Okay! Okay! I won’t do it again!"

Sylus smirked before giving her forehead a kiss. "That’s what I thought."

Just then, the sound of the front door opening made them both pause.

"Mommy’s home!" his daughter gasped, suddenly wiggling out of his grip. She scrambled off the bed and ran toward the door.

"Kids and their videos these days" Sylus let out an amused huff before going to greet you at the door.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀Caleb

Caleb sat in his office, his uniform jacket draped over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up as he stared at his phone. His brows furrowed as he hit redial.

Once. Twice.

Declined.

His jaw tensed.

He tried again.

Declined.

Caleb leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. He knew you were out shopping, the messages were lighting up his phone

"thank you for your purchase at xxx store"

but you had given Noah the phone in case he needed anything, the shops were noisy and you couldn't hear the ringing

So why the hell was his own wife declining his calls, did something happen to you?

He dialed again. This time, instead of a decline, the call went through—but no one spoke. He could hear faint background noise, you were definitely outside.

"Y/n?" Caleb said, voice firm.

A beat of silence. Then, a small huff.

"Daddy, stop calling," Noah finally said.

Caleb blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You’re calling too much," Noah complained. "Mommy said we’d call you if we needed something."

Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. "And what if I need something, huh?"

Another pause. Then Noah sighed dramatically. "What do you need, Daddy?"

Oh, this little—

Caleb exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. "Put Mommy on the phone."

"No."

Caleb froze. "Noah—"

"Mommy’s busy," Noah said in a tone that was far too smug for a four-year-old. "She’s looking at boring grown-up stuff. And you’re distracting us."

Caleb clenched his jaw. "I am your father, Noah."

"Yeah, I know," Noah said casually. "But Mommy said ugh, Caleb is calling again and told me to ignore it."

Caleb’s eye twitched. "She said that?"

"Uh-huh."

"…Are you lying to me?"

A long pause. Then, a quiet, "Maybe."

Caleb let out a slow breath. "Noah."

Noah giggled, and before Caleb could say another word, the call ended, Caleb stared at the blank screen.

As soon as he stepped inside, he heard Noah’s laughter coming from the living room. He walked in to find him sprawled on the couch with a snack in hand, looking far too comfortable.

Noah turned his head, eyes widening when he saw Caleb. He immediately sat up, gripping the phone he had confiscated like it was a lifeline.

"Daddy!"

"Son," Caleb said, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze held no mercy. "We need to talk."

Noah scrambled off the couch. "Uh—Mommy! Daddy’s home!"

Caleb caught him by the back of his shirt before he could escape. "Nice try, bud. You and I have unfinished business."

Noah wriggled in Caleb’s grip, his small hands flailing. “I didn’t do anything!”

Caleb arched a brow. “Didn’t do anything? Didn’t do anything?” His voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it. “Son, you declined my calls like I was some kind of scam number.”

Noah squirmed harder. “You called too much!”

Caleb exhaled through his nose. “I called twice.”

“Exactly! Too much!”

Caleb stared at him, unimpressed. “You’re gonna stand here and tell me you had zero problem ignoring your father?”

Noah hesitated. “Uhh…” His grip on the phone tightened. “I just—Mommy was busy! And you always talk forever!”

Caleb scoffed. “Forever? I would’ve been on for two minutes. That’s not forever.”

Noah puffed his cheeks. “It is when I was watching cartoons.”

Caleb took a deep breath, rubbing a hand down his face. “I can’t believe this. My own son, my own blood, betraying me like this.”

Noah huffed. “I had to, Daddy.”

Caleb let out a dry chuckle, crouching so he was at Noah’s level. “Had to? Had to hang up on me? Where did you learn that, huh? You got someone else teaching you bad habits? That a bad influence I need to deal with?”

Noah shifted guiltily. “Nooo…”

Caleb narrowed his eyes. “Are you lying to me again, Noah?”

Noah swallowed. “Maybe.”

“Unbelievable,” Caleb muttered, shaking his head. He pointed at the phone clutched in Noah’s hands. “Hand it over, soldier.”

Noah gasped, gripping it tighter. “No!”

“I outrank you, kid,” Caleb warned, voice low. “Don’t make me use my colonel voice.”

Noah’s lips wobbled. “But—but—”

“Three… Two…”

With a dramatic whimper, Noah finally surrendered the phone. Caleb took it and stuffed it in his pocket. “Now, what do we say?”

Noah shifted on his feet. “...Sorry?”

Caleb nodded. “That’s right. And?”

Noah sighed heavily, like Caleb was really putting him through it. “I won’t hang up on you again.”

Caleb smirked. “Good. Now, what should your punishment be?”

Noah gasped. “Punishment?! Daddy, no! It was a mistake!”

Caleb tapped his chin. “Hmm… I could make you do laps in the backyard. Maybe push-ups. Or—" his eyes gleamed—"no dessert for a week.”

Noah gasped again, even more dramatically. “Mommy!” he wailed, turning toward the kitchen. “Daddy’s being a tyrant!”

Before Caleb could grab him again, Noah sprinted off, his little legs carrying him as fast as they could.

A second later, you poked your head out of the bedroom, blinking. “What’s happening?”

Caleb sighed, standing up. “Your son is staging a rebellion.”

Noah clung to your leg. “Mommy, Daddy’s bullying me!”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at Caleb. “Are you bullying our son?”

Caleb smirked. “Teaching him discipline.”

Noah tugged your sleeve. “Mommy, I was so good today.”

Caleb barked a laugh. “Yeah? Good at declining my calls.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Caleb, you’re an adult. You shouldn’t be getting into power struggles with a four-year-old.”

Caleb scoffed. “He started it.”

Noah giggled from behind your leg.

You groaned, rubbing your temple. “You two are exhausting.”

Caleb smirked, stepping closer to wrap an arm around your waist. “And yet, you love us.”

Noah nodded rapidly. “Uh-huh! Right, Mommy?”

You sighed, looking between them. “Unfortunately.”

Caleb chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before ruffling Noah’s hair. “You’re lucky your mom’s here to protect you, kid.”

Noah grinned up at him. “I know!”

Caleb shook his head, amused. “Unbelievable.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Rafayel

You had been invited to an exclusive art exhibition downtown—one that featured some of Rafayel’s earlier works. Since he despised public events and would rather gouge his own eyes out than attend, and Thomas would respectfully gouge out rafayel's eyes if he did not attend, you went in his place, both to support him and to keep up appearances.

Seraphina, your four-year-old daughter, had come along for the car ride but quickly grew bored when you arrived. The moment she saw the endless rows of paintings and the adults murmuring about “artistic depth” and “symbolic brush strokes,” she looked up at you, unimpressed.

“Mommy, this is so boring.”

You sighed, crouching down to smooth out her dress. “I know, sweetheart, but it won’t take long. Daddy worked hard on these paintings, and I have to talk to some of the nice people here, okay?”

Seraphina pouted. “But I don’t care about paintings. I wanna watch cartoons.”

You pulled out your phone and handed it to her. “Here. You can call Daddy if you need anything, alright?”

Her eyes lit up as she clutched the phone. “Okay!”

You smiled, kissing her forehead as you left her at the staff room and locked the door with your keycard so no one could enter other than Thomas, after everything was secure you turned toward the exhibition hall.

—

Back home, Rafayel was in his studio, adding the final details to a massive canvas when his phone vibrated. He wiped the paint off his hands and glanced at the screen.

Landlubber 💜 is calling…

A small smile tugged at his lips as he answered. “Sweetheart, are you finished already?”

Silence.

Then—

Click.

The call ended.

Rafayel blinked, staring at his phone.

What?

He lowered the device, then brought it back up, frowning. Had the signal dropped?

Before he could think too much about it, the phone vibrated again.

Landlubber 💜 is calling…

He answered immediately. “Sweetheart?”

Silence.

Rafayel stared at the phone in disbelief.

What the hell is going on?

The phone buzzed again.

This time, he answered with narrowed eyes. “If you hang up on me again—”

“Oh. Hi, Daddy.”

Rafayel exhaled through his nose. “Seraphina.”

His daughter hummed in acknowledgment.

“Why are you calling me just to hang up?” he asked, his voice carefully restrained. “Is everything alright?”

“I didn’t hang up,” she said cheerfully. “I was just checking.”

“Checking what?”

“If you’d answer.”

Rafayel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Seraphina—”

“I miss you, Daddy.”

Rafayel’s frustration wavered, replaced with something softer.

He leaned against his desk, rubbing a hand down his face. “I miss you too, little fish.”

“Then come get me.”

Rafayel sighed, he could already imagine thomas chasing him down the exhibition “I can’t. Mommy is working in my place.”

“But I’m not. Please daddy” She whined.

“Mommy will bring you home soon.”

Seraphina made a displeased noise. “That’s too long.”

There was a pause. Then, her voice turned thoughtful. “Daddy?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not painting without me, are you?”

Rafayel glanced at his half-finished canvas. With a pause he answered. “Of course not.”

Seraphina gasped. “You are!”

“I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t deny it!”

Rafayel chuckled. “You caught me.”

Seraphina huffed. “That’s not fair. You promised we’d paint together!”

“And we will,” he assured her. “I’ll wait for you.”

Another pause. Then—

“Okay. But no touching the pink paint.”

“No pink,” Rafayel agreed solemnly.

“Or the sparkles.”

“No sparkles.”

Seraphina hummed. “Alright. You’re forgiven.”

Rafayel smirked. “Good.”

There was a brief silence before he heard her yawn.

“You sleepy?” he asked.

“…No.”

He smiled knowingly. “Close your eyes, little fish.”

Seraphina whined. “But I wanna talk to you.”

“I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“…Promise?”

“Promise.”

A beat of silence. Then, a soft rustling as Seraphina got comfortable.

“Okay,” she murmured.

Rafayel listened to her breathing slow, his heart aching with warmth.

He didn’t hang up. Not yet.

Instead, he stayed on the line, listening to the quiet rise and fall of his daughter’s breath.

Minutes passed before he finally spoke.

“I’ll come get you soon,” he whispered.

Then, finally, he ended the call.

[tbaluver]

HELLLOOOOOOO

I just read a book where the mcs husband freaks out over her water breaking and I was wondering, how would the lads acc react???? It’s ok if you dont want to write about it but i just wanna say that i REALLLLLYYYYY love the work you’re doing!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

"My Water Broke!"- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader summary: how they react when your water breaks and what they would do after a/n: HIHI again my angel !! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ PLS you're always so sweet omg thank you so much MWAH MWAH currently kicking my feet reading that, thank you for reading my works ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ ) i hope i did this justice and i hope this was alright ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

The snack in your hand falls to the ground, your appetite disappears when a sharp ache shoots through your lower abdomen. You gasp, clutching your stomach as water drops down your legs. Your eyes meet Xavier’s, your face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and pain.

It took Xavier a moment to fully process the situation, panic quickly replacing his usual calm demeanor. He rushes beside you, his voice frantic as he asks a flurry of questions. “Are you okay? How much does it hurt? Can you stand? Can you walk?”

He helps you step carefully out of the small puddle that formed at your feet, his hand gently on your back and your arm as he tries to steady you. “It’s alright, I’m here. I’m here. ” He murmurs, hoping it would reassure you in some way.

He tries to remain as calm as he can but panic is surging through his body that he fails to hide it. He hates to see you in so much pain and the urgency to get you to the hospital only makes his worries worse. He quickly helps you to the transport to the hospital, his hand on you the entire time.

He thought maybe it would be best to teleport you there instantly but with you being so far along in your pregnancy, he isn’t sure how safe that would be. The last thing he wants is to take any chances with you or the baby.

When you both arrived at the hospital, Xavier remained beside you at all times until the pain started getting worse. He asked nurses, doctors, anyone who could help you for anything, anything at all, that might bring you some type of temporary relief to take the relentless pain away from you. His voice raised slightly as he spoke to anyone in the hospital, growing increasingly impatient when no one came in to help you even if it was just a minute.

When the nurses finally arrived a minute late, the tension in his head seemed to ease just a tad bit. “Is there anything else I can get/ do for you?” His hand found yours immediately, rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. “I think our little prince is eager to come home.”

Zayne:

One thing about Zayne is that he’s always prepared. Always.

The second your water breaks, panic doesn’t register on his face, mostly concern. He stays calm as he gently places a hand on your back, guiding each step to the car. He reassures you the entire way there, urging you to take deep breaths with him as best as you can. The labor bag that had been waiting by the front door months in advance, was already slung over his shoulder, just like he planned. Not a minute to waste.

As soon as he starts the car, his hand finds yours immediately, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. He keeps his focus on the road but his attention never shifts away from you. 

While he effortlessly drives through the streets, he calls his parents to let them know that you’re both on your way. He listens to their excited congratulations on the other end and he can’t help but crack a smile knowing that you both will meet your little angel soon. The call ends after they mention that they will meet you both there soon.

The drive there felt like an eternity but Zayne remains calm, reminding you to breathe deeply, guiding you through each contraction with the same techniques he’s practiced with you countless times. “Deep breath in..now breathe out. That’s it, you’re doing well. We’re almost there.”

As soon as you pull into the hospital, the nurses are ready to escort you to your private labor room and tend to your needs the moment they see Zayne enter the building. The nurses are aware of his status in the hospital and the last thing they want to do is make a misstep to the chief’s surgeon’s wife during such a crucial time. 

“She might need an epidural or an IV pain relief if her contractions intensify” The nurses squeak, rethinking if they’re even doing their job right in front of such a high-ranking and respected figure in the hospital.

Zayne gives a brief nod. “I’ll notify you if she does,” He responds, before giving his full attention back to you. His hand immediately finds yours again, gently brushing a few stray strands of hair from your face. “How are you feeling now, my love? Is there anything I can do for you?”

He listens to any issues you have, any fears, even the most irrational ones, with the utmost care. He reassures you over and over again, not minding every single one you tell him. “I’ll stay here with you the entire time. I won’t leave either of you.” He murmurs, his eyes locking with yours.

Rafayel:

may his lemurian ancestors save him.

The moment his eyes caught water drops dripping between your legs, his breath hitched. Time seemed to stop and the world around him was shrinking to nothing but the sound of his frantic heartbeat, the realization that it was finally happening. It was time.

His voice was a jumbled mess of panic as he stammered to ask if you were okay and he already knew you weren’t but his mind was racing a hundred miles a minute, frantic thoughts were colliding with each other. It was as if he was also going into labor as well.

He scrambled to help you up, trying to figure out where his keys were and his phone and the labor and delivery bag and- no. His brain finally caught up to him. You both decided that since your baby would have Lemurian blood so water birth was the best way to go.

With trembling hands, he guides you toward the bathroom. He would try to sound reassuring as possible but you can still hear the slight panic and worry in his voice as he urges you toward the large bathtub. He had planned this with you months ago, every detail and every thought, but now it felt like everything was happening too fast.

He settled you into the warm water, his heart pounding as he dialed his Aunt Talia’s number. The moment she picked up, she didn’t even need him to explain, his incoherent sentences made sense enough.

Once the call ended, Rafayel’s went to work to make sure you were comfortable and to make you feel more at ease. He fanned your face urgently, trying to cool the beads of sweat forming along your temple. His hands would later move to massage your hands, your feet, your thighs, anything to soothe you.

“Are you okay? How are the contractions? Does it hurt a lot?” His eyes were wide, filled with concern. He listened to any of your needs, reassuring you the best that he could. “Do you want me to talk to our little glubs? Maybe they’re being a little too rough in there.” He never fails to lighten the mood, your lips tugging into a small smile even at such a crucial time.

He moves behind you, adjusting your hair and wiping away any sweat. “You’re going to be a great mother y'know.” He murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder as his hands drift down to rest on your swollen belly.

Sylus:

“Sy-!” You gasp, clutching your belly as the water trickles down your legs. Sylus is immediately by your side the moment his eyes notice the puddle forming at your feet.

“I’m here,” he murmurs, his hand gently resting on your back to steady you. “Our little dove is ready to leave her nest?” A faint smile curves on his lips but the worry in his eyes is palpable as he quickly connects with Mephisto to contact the twins to prepare the car.

He helps guide you to the vehicle, supporting you as you slowly settle in. Once you were, his hands found yours again. “You’re doing great, just breathe with me.” He says softly. “Remember the breathing exercises we learned?” You huff in shallow breaths, sweat beading on your forehead. You nod rapidly, the pain tensing up with every contraction.

“Good, good just breathe with me,” Sylus encourages, letting you squeeze his hand tighter with each wave of pain. He remains unfazed no matter how tightly you wrapped your hands around his. He stays calm for you, even though his nerves try to threaten to unravel.

“You’re doing so well, just a little longer alright?” His fingers brush stray strands of hair from your face, wiping the beads of sweat from your forehead. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you..” He murmurs, one hand on your belly, hoping your little dove will make it easy for you in the end.

The moment you arrive at the hospital, you’re swiftly escorted to a private labor and delivery room that Sylus had personally arranged for you. He made sure you had the best doctors and the most experienced nurses at your beck and call. If any nurse fails to meet your needs, he’ll take note of it, but right now, none of that matters. What matters is you and your little one.

Throughout the entire process, he stays with you, only leaving your side momentarily to order the twins to get something for him. Sylus would be observant of your needs and respond accordingly, letting you squeeze tightly on his hand or letting him help adjust your position. 

He can't wait for his little dove to meet her mother. Although his gaze is filled with concern, there’s a flicker of adoration in his eyes. He knows the depth of your strength but witnessing how you’ve stayed resilient for your little daughter throughout the past nine months has made him rethink just how powerful you truly are. He knows deep down she would look up to you just from how strong you are.

Caleb:

You groaned, the pain surging through your body in waves. A whimper escapes your lips as your hands instinctively curl around your swollen belly. Caleb was at your side in an instant, his eyes catching the sight of the wet pool on the floor. His heart skipped a beat as he realized your water had broken.

He leaned beside you, his arms wrapping around you. “Hey...Hey, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, brushing your hair from your face. “I’m right here. We’re gonna get you to the hospital alright, pipsqueak?”

His heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest. The drive to the hospital felt endless, each second felt like it stretched on for hours. Every time he stopped at a red light, he glanced over at you. “Breathe pipsqueak..You’re doing great. We’re almost there.” His brow furrowed in concern every time you gasped in pain and how your body tensed with contractions.

You squeezed his hand tighter with each wave of pain, your face contorting in agony and it made his heart absolutely ache. He wished with every fiber of his body that he could take away your pain and carry it for you. But all he could do for now was stay by your side. “Almost there..Just a little longer okay?” 

When you finally arrived at the hospital, Caleb was there beside you. The moment the nurse helped you settle into your private labor room, his emotions broke free. The reality of it all was too much to hold in.

As he sat beside you, tears welled up in his eyes, his voice shaky. “Thank you..thank you for giving me this,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your knuckles. He never thought this moment would come and to know that your little baby was on his way was making this dream of having a future with you turn into a reality.

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ thank you to my beta reader @ilovemitsuya hehe MWAH <3

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! Love and DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg.2

[sevsgiirl]

Omg okay I can't stop thinking about needy lovesick Sevika with a younger femme partner (you can totally do a continuation of the fic you wrote) so what if, she's a little needy&insecure for their age gap? That her girl gets bored/annoyed with her? (She doesn't have this type of thoughts all the time, but the seeds of doubts grows when she hears other people talk, not directly about her and reader, but in general but it does linger when others points out how different they are) or in her own way, she start craving more compliments, affections from her but dunno how to do it and at the same time she's trying to gauce if her girl still likes her (she does!!) yet just the thoughts/doubts hurts Sevika like so bad, because she would do anything for her darling, what she has to do to make her girl still love her and not leave her?

— sevika with a younger partner and feeling insecure

synopsis: sevika doesn’t have a type. whether they’re older or younger, just as long as they could keep up with her that’s all mattered. but ever since you two started dating, she starts to wonder if she’s the one who could keep up with you and how deep down, it scares her that you might find a problem with it eventually.

note: I just had to post this before going to sleep because the idea is too good. I love the way your brain works and again, thank you for sending in the req <3 love you and I hope you like this.

you were a beacon of light in the cesspool of chaos that is sevika’s life.

to this day, she still doesn’t understand how you and her got into a relationship but here you are now, going strong for almost a year and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

you two rarely get into arguments, when you did she never hesitates to reach out and fix the situation right away because she can’t stand being on bad terms with you for long.

you two are on the same mental wavelength, which sevika appreciates given how you’re a lot younger than her. she’s in her 40s and you were in 20s, but sometimes she forgets because conversations always run smoothly between you two.

but just because she forgets that doesn’t mean other people fail to bring it up.

when you started dating, it was a bit difficult given how it wasn’t received well by a lot of her peers. not that they judged her for it because they could never unless they wanted to have their face busted in. but it was the occasional remarks that had a hint of judgement in them that made sevika uncomfortable.

things such as “she’s a bit young, isn’t she? you better keep an eye on her especially because you’re always at work. it’s hard being in a relationship with someone who’s at a different stage in life as you.”

both of you had jobs but her work compared to yours was hectic. you work as a waitress at jericho’s meanwhile sevika is paid to get her hands dirty for silco. the job was tedious and draining and sometimes she comes home, tired to the bone that she could barely catch up with you. which she feels immensely guilty for.

you’ve reassured her that it isn’t a big deal and that you understand her status in zaun is far more important than yours. you’ve always acknowledged sevika’s role in the under city and why she was feared by many, that’s what attracted you to her in the first place. she was loyal, devoted and her endurance was insane.

but still, despite how sevika’s job is her number one priority, it still doesn’t slip her mind that she may accidentally neglect you and your needs without her knowing.

and she knows it takes a toll on you too, you just don’t want to bring it up because you respect her too much. and she was right because when she came home early one night you weren’t there, and it was almost midnight when you finally returned and you were shocked to see sevika sitting on your couch waiting for you. usually she’d be back around 2-3am.

“hey, you didn’t tell me silco would let you off the hook early,” you said but your words became background noise because she was too focused on your appearance. you were dressed up and from where she sat she could tell you’ve had a lot to drink.

it’s not that it upset sevika you went out, you could do whatever you want but it saddens her that you didn’t even go out of your way to tell her about it assuming she’d be coming home late. is this what you do when she’s not here? go out with your friends and have fun? it’s not that she expects you to wait for her in your apartment all day while she’s away for work.

still, the thought bothers her as she wonders what you must’ve been up to while she was gone. she tries to set the thought aside, not wanting to think bad of you because she knows you’d never go against her back. but certain thoughts crept up at the back of her mind. did you meet someone while you were out? were you offered drinks? did someone invite you out to dance?

“sev, baby, you there?” she didn’t even realize she zoned out until she felt you cupping her cheek “are you tired? you shouldn’t have stayed up for me.”

she shook her head “it’s alright. but yeah, silco let me off early and I wanted to surprise you.”

your shoulders sagged “I’m sorry. I assumed you’d come home late again so I decided to just go out with friends. had I known I would’ve waited so we can stay in and cuddle.”

despite your flattery words, the only thing that stuck to sevika was you implying she’d be late again. you didn’t mean it maliciously, there was no bitterness in your tone but instead there was just… acceptance. which frustrated her because people were right.

perhaps being at different stages in life does this. you needed a partner who you can home to and have fun with but instead you got her who’s always late, is already asleep when you probably want to stay up and have sex at night. she would force herself to push through just for you but she isn’t getting any younger and it shows.

maybe it’s because others have planted it in her head that you two are just far too different that’s why she’s overthinking like this, but it’s becoming more and more evident that they were right and if she doesn’t find a way to fix this, god knows before you start seeing the cracks and the dents as well.

and so in the following day she asked silco if she could cut off her usual hours at work to get back home early. at least for a few weeks and silco was shocked for a second because if there was anyone who’s extremely dedicated to their job, it’s her.

but it’s because of that he deliberates on the request “very well,” he answered “but if the matters are urgent I expect you to come in either way,”

well, it’s better than nothing, sevika thought. what matters is she’ll try to find some time to spend the following weeks with you and to hopefully regain the spark in your relationship.

not that she’s saying it’s lost but she’s scared it will. because if her days don’t consist of work, she’s either at the bar playing cards to blow off some steam, which isn’t exactly a productive way of spending one’s time.

unlike you, you have tons of friends who you go out with at clubs and sevika just doesn’t want to think about all the people you meet there, who are probably the same age as you, and have wanted to ask you out but you turned them down because of her.

meanwhile, she’s here and she can’t even keep you happy like how you deserve.

it eats her up alive that’s why as soon as she comes back from work a lot earlier than usual, she immediately engulfs you in a back hug when she sees you cooking in the kitchen.

you gasped, not expecting her “sev, you’re home.” you were surprised as you turned around “did something happen?”

she shook her head, smiling “no sweetheart, silco just let me off early again. plus I’ve been meaning to spend more time with my girl…”

you still weren’t used to the disruption of the routine, because she’s normally away at these hours, but you weren’t complaining.

and with that, you spent most of the evening cooking and catching up with each other. you didn’t miss the way sevika followed you around the house like a lost puppy when you started cleaning up to get ready for bed.

you raised an eyebrow when she wrapped her arms around your waist while you were washing the dishes, noticing how she’s awfully more needy than usual.

“baby, go rest. you just got back home from work.” you giggled and she just shook her head.

“I just want to spend more time with you. I feel like I haven’t been the best partner.”

that halted you in your tracks and you angled your head so you can face her “baby, what makes you think that?” your eyebrows were furrowed and she just held you tighter.

she lets out a breath, tired and awfully nervous about vocalizing her doubts. what if once she points it out you start seeing the red flags too? and then these affectionate gestures just won’t be enough? what then?

“I know with my job and the responsibilities I have, I haven’t been able to fulfill your needs. you have so much ahead of you and I’m always at work and I just don’t want to make it seem like I’m wasting your time.” she said and you just stood there, letting her words sink in.

“you’re young and you could be with someone whose head isn’t always stuck in a bunch of paperwork or is running around the lanes doing silco’s dirty work.” her jaw clenched and she starts to wonder if admitting to all of this was a good idea.

“I’m sorry, princess. I just don’t want to bore you by leaving you here at home all by yourself…”

you immediately swiveled around in her arms and took her face in your hands.

“sev, look at me.” you said, your voice stern “I could give less than two fucks about people my age. you think when I got into a relationship with you I didn’t know what I was signing myself up for? of course I did and I don’t regret any of it. I know you have responsibilities and I accepted all of your duties the moment you became mine.”

“I could never be bored of you, baby.” you told her, thumb caressing her cheek “you don’t treat me any differently because of my age so why should I? I love it that you’re so hard at work and that you provide for me. the fact my salary at jericho’s isn’t even enough to pay half of our rent but you don’t mind because you provide for us both, why would I find that boring? that’s fucking sexy.”

she couldn’t help but let out a snort “oh, so what you’re saying is that you’re staying with me because I’m basically your sugar mommy?”

you grinned “amongst other things,” you said before capturing her lips with your own.

the kiss was hot, heavy and slow as sevika gripped your hips and pulled you against her. pushing her knee up and sliding it across your thighs and she started rubbing against your clothed cunt, making you whimper.

“so you’re not bored of me? or mad?” she asked as she pulled away to look at you.

you rolled your eyes “you could be 23 or 75 for all I care and I still wouldn’t get bored of you.”

your finger drew circles around her chest as you fluttered your eyes up at her “plus you fuck me like you’re 23 anyway, so I don’t see why I would look for someone my age.”

she couldn’t help but laugh, swooping you up in her arms and you circled your legs around her waist as she walked you to your bedroom “god, you’re such a handful.” she said.

you smirked “but you love it.”

[fireinmoonshot]

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Reader Summary: You're away for a few days for a work trip and even on the first night, Joaquin is making sure you know how much he misses you. Warnings: Mentions of food. Word Count: 1k A/N: I've wanted to write something regarding Joaquin + facetiming before and then I got this as a request the other day so it was perfect. I think Joaquin would be so cute in this scenario... 🥹 I adore him, my sweet angel boy.

You’re in line at the grocery store getting some things to take back to your hotel room when your phone starts buzzing. The photo on the screen, a selfie of your boyfriend that he’d taken on your phone, shows that Joaquin is trying to Facetime you. You cancel the call and quickly type out a message to him before putting your stuff up on the counter.

Sorry, baby, I can’t answer right now – in line at the grocery store xo ❤️

The phone buzzes again just as the cashier starts scanning your items and asks you how your day is going. Once you’ve paid, you check the message, smiling as you read it.

Ok…🙁

You’re away for four nights on a work trip and Joaquin is clearly already struggling having the house to himself. At first, you thought he’d enjoy the freedom of being alone… but now that you think about it, it sounds like his worst nightmare.

You reach your rental car and unlock it, climbing into the drivers seat and putting your groceries and bag on the passenger seat. Pulling your phone out from your bag, you send Joaquin another quick text to check in before heading back to your hotel.

I’m in the car now, I can call on my way to my hotel? The car has hands free.

A message from Joaquin appears seconds later. No, too dangerous. Call when u are in ur room pls, I miss u ❤️😢

You can’t help but smile at the message, sending a quick okay back to him before putting your phone in your bag, putting your seatbelt on and starting up the car. The entire drive back to the hotel, you hear your phone going off every minute or so. He says it’s too dangerous to call you via hands free but will distract you by texting you every minute… yeah, makes complete sense…

Despite your desire to check it after you park, you wait till you’re in your hotel room before getting your phone out of your bag. It would’ve been a hassle to try and read and reply to his messages while navigating the elevator and trying not to lose your room key card.

You almost laugh as you see why your phone was going off so often.

Joaquin has sent you a detailed list of everything he did today while you were gone – ever since he dropped you off at the airport at 9am right up until now at 7pm. He’s even included pictures – a variety of zoomed in photos and a couple selfies. You save them all to your camera roll. Your favourites are the one where he’s giving a thumbs up to the camera after successfully doing grocery shopping alone, another one blowing a kiss to you because he misses you and, probably the best one of all, him flipping off the microwave because it didn’t properly heat up his lunch. 

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you text him back.

Why did you send all of these? 😂 I mean, so cute, but are we not about to Facetime so you can tell me all about your day anyway, baby?

Unsurprisingly, his reply comes through instantly.

In case I had to go before u got back.

Go where? I thought you were staying in tonight.

Yea but what if Sam called and I had to go and help him save the world. 🦸🏽‍♂️

You can’t not laugh at that. Especially with the little superhero emoji. He’s adorable – so utterly adorable – and you miss him even more upon reading his words. You climb back up onto the bed so you can sit properly on it and hit the Facetime button, immediately calling Joaquin. 

He answers straight away.

“Angel,” he drags out the word as his face appears on the screen, a pout on his lips. 

“Hi baby,” you chuckle, smiling down at his face on your phone screen. “I’m glad Sam hasn’t called and asked you to come help him save the world yet.”

He grins. Through the screen, you can see that he’s laying on your bed, his face a little smushed into the pillow. He looks sleepy and you wish you were with him. “Me too,” he replies. “I miss you… how am I meant to sleep alone for four more nights? I’ve started a countdown on the fridge. I made it with post it notes. I should’ve sent a photo of it… I’ll take one tomorrow. I’m too comfy to get up right now. Did you see the photo about the microwave? I think I need to go buy a new one. It’s not working properly. And Fred, our neighbour, threw his dogs shit over our fence again earlier, so I had to go and ask him politely to stop doing it. Oh, and I did the washing but I think I pressed a button wrong cause it said it’d be three hours before it was done and I think that’s a bit too long. And–”

“Joaquin.”

You interrupt him, a smile on your face from listening to him ramble on about everything that had happened today. He blinks, his eyes focusing on the screen where your face is again. A sleepy smile makes its way onto his own face.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly.

“Don’t be,” you shake your head. “I miss you too, baby. But it’s only four nights. I’ll be home before you know it. But I’m going to hate sleeping without you too.” 

He squishes his face into the pillow a little more. “It should be illegal to separate us,” he huffs. 

“I doubt that they’d make that a law, baby.”

He groans into the pillow before sitting up a little so his face is a little more visible. “You know what should be illegal though? Microwaves that don’t heat up all your food… I mean, seriously, I put it in for like six minutes and it was still cold on the inside! It’s gotta be faulty, right, angel? Do you think I should go get another one tomorrow? Maybe ours is still under warranty. I’ll have to try and find the paperwork. Do you know where it is?”

Amused, you continue to listen to him waffle on about the microwave and several other things that had happened to him today… if this is what’s in store for your next few nights away… you’ll definitely have your hands full…

––––

Joaquín Torres Tag List (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@sidkneeeee @dead-inside-but-happy @lay-lay-5 @marchingicenotes7 @phucboy @davinashifts333 @lomlbuckybarnes @laurenjbb @chansburgah @blackwidownat2814 @mischiefmanaged71 @madzlovez @marvelwitchergilmore @brittnicki @rheas-ripley @bcystar @victorsbathroomstall @giona45-5 @voodoo-tofu @happypopcornprincess 

[kxsagi]

Hiiii!! I like your account very much and the way you write is great. I thought something like, sae x fem reader, reader is cheerful, understanding, playful and talkative. She's always the one who initiates the conversation, the contact with Sae. But one day, she's worried that Sae is uncomfortable, so she doesn't talk to him or hug him, so what if Sae noticed?

“𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚��𝐢𝐧 𝐃 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐬”

a/n: thank you so much!!! this was kinda easy to write bc i am definitely this type of person lol

also, guys i swear i see requests in my inbox, i write them down for future reference, and when i’m about to write them, they’re like gone??? 😭

like i was gonna write it, i just need a couple days because i have other things going on, and i will respond if i am not comfortable writing it lol

(art credits go to immmso_ko on X)

sae itoshi isn’t used to being the one who reaches out first. 

he doesn’t need to. 

not when you’re around. 

you, with your sunshine grin and warm hands. you, who waltz into his life every morning like you’re the human embodiment of a golden retriever with a caffeine addiction. 

you, who hum off-key to whatever song’s been rotting in your brain all week. who pops into the kitchen just to press a surprise kiss to his cheek and dramatically declare, “that was your daily serotonin dose. you’re welcome.” 

you, who casually slip your fingers under the hem of his shirt when you hug him just to be a little nuisance about it. “oh wow, your back is so warm. you’re like a human heater. lucky me.” 

sae rolls his eyes every time. pretends to be annoyed. but he never stops you. 

and maybe that’s the problem. 

because now, he’s starting to think he’s been too good at pretending. 

it takes him a while to figure out what feels off. 

at first, he thinks maybe he’s just in a fouler mood than usual. his teammates were particularly slow during training. his coach was nagging more than necessary. the post-practice traffic was a nightmare. 

but then he walks into the apartment. 

and it hits him. 

the space is… quiet. too quiet. 

no overenthusiastic “sae!! you’re home!!” followed by you practically launching yourself at him like a feral cat on catnip. no sudden, unsolicited dance breaks in the kitchen while you wait for the water to boil. not even a playful jab about how he never texts you when he’s on his way home. 

just… silence. 

he finds you on the couch, scrolling through your phone. when you glance up and smile, it’s small. polite. the kind you’d give to a coworker you barely tolerate. 

okay. weird. 

he figures maybe you’re just tired. long day or whatever. but no, even when he sits next to you, you don’t do… anything. 

you don’t tuck your legs over his lap. you don’t lean against him or comb your fingers through his hair like you usually do when he’s within a five-foot radius. 

you’re not touching him. 

the realization makes his eye twitch. 

he’s not even being subtle about his staring at this point. he’s glaring at you like you’ve personally wronged him. and you, being the self-aware ray of sunshine that you are, notice immediately. 

"what’s wrong?" you ask softly. 

he narrows his eyes. "you tell me." 

you blink. "huh?" 

"you’re acting weird," he says bluntly, and you blink again, caught off guard by the sharpness in his voice. 

"what? no, i’m not," you say with a too-quick shake of your head. 

he squints at you. unimpressed. he’s not letting this go. 

"you are," he deadpans, voice low and flat. 

and that’s when you start to sweat. 

you glance away, suddenly very interested in the coffee table. "i’m not," you mutter under your breath, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. 

but he’s not buying it. 

"yes, you are." 

"no, i’m not." 

"you are." 

"i’m not." 

he leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. his eyes narrow further. "you are." 

"i’m not!!" 

a brief, heated staring contest ensues. 

… you lose. obviously. 

you sigh, slumping back against the couch. your shoulders sink slightly, and for the first time tonight, you look… sheepish. almost guilty. 

"i just…" you exhale softly, voice quieter than before. "i didn’t want to be… too much." 

his eyes flicker. "what?" he mutters. 

your fingers pick at a loose thread in your sleeve, suddenly avoiding his gaze again. 

"i wasn’t sure if you liked it when i… y’know, talk so much. or cling to you all the time. you never… complain or anything, but you never really initiate either, so…" you trail off, your voice growing smaller. "i thought maybe you were just putting up with it. so i didn’t want to, like… overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable." 

sae stares at you. 

and suddenly, he feels like a massive fucking idiot. 

because here you are, walking on eggshells around him – him – when all you’ve ever done is make his life warmer. brighter. easier. 

and what did he do? 

he let you think he didn’t want it. 

he presses his lips into a thin line. swallows down the brief twinge of self-loathing and quietly reaches for your hand. 

the moment his fingers brush against yours, you freeze slightly. but when he intertwines them with deliberate slowness, you blink, clearly caught off guard. 

"don’t do that again," he mutters, voice low but steady. "don’t pull away." 

your brows furrow slightly, confused. "but i thought –" 

"don’t," he cuts you off, and you immediately fall silent. he squeezes your hand slightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, gaze unwavering. 

"i like it," he mutters, voice a little strained, almost like the words are foreign to him. "when you talk. when you touch me. i…" he inhales sharply, eyes narrowing slightly, almost annoyed at himself for being so bad at this. "i like it. alright?" 

you blink at him, wide-eyed. 

he waits for you to say something. anything. 

but then you just… burst into laughter. 

his eyes narrow slightly, but before he can ask what the hell is so funny, you’re suddenly climbing into his lap. 

and for once, he doesn’t flinch. 

he exhales sharply when your arms wrap around his neck, pressing yourself against him like you’re trying to fuse your body with his. your fingers immediately find their way under his shirt, cool palms pressing against his bare skin like they belong there. 

"you’re such a grump," you mumble into his shoulder, voice muffled but clearly teasing. "but you’re my grump." 

he rolls his eyes, exasperated. but his arms tighten around you anyway. 

"don’t push your luck," he mutters. 

but he makes no effort to let you go. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[tvfangirladdict]

Big on this.

Just because(you believe) 2 characters have romantic or sexual feelings for each other does 👏not👏 mean👏 everything👏 they 👏do👏 with👏 each👏 other 👏automatically 👏becomes👏 a 👏romantic👏or👏sexual👏act👏. Capice?

I can admit when I ship two characters who have no romantic/sexual connection in canon but I'm not gonna let my shipper goggles change the reality of what's actually happening(usually. I try anyway). Showing the different aspects and depths of platonic/familial relationships is so important, don't take away from that just because you want them to kiss, okay? Physical touch, emotional vulnerability, mental familiarity/closeness/affection, etc are all parts of those types of relationships too, not just romantic ones.

When my best friend and I have sleepovers we share a bed because we've known each other our whole lives and we just never grew out of it- doesn't mean we like each other romantically. I can cuddle with friends because I'm tactile and it brings me contentment- doesn't mean it's romantic. They're the ones I call or text when I need someone to talk to and I rely on them emotionally- doesn't mean I have romantic feelings for them. My friends know more about my mental state and my history than anyone, including family- doesn't make it romantic. I'd trust them with my (hypothetical) kids- doesn't make it romantic. I can tell my friends "I love you"- doesn't mean it's in a romantic way just because I do all of the above and more.

I understand there's occasionally some overlap when things are unsaid, when it's a vibe or look or something less concrete that can be open to interpretation. Still, admit that, don't take one action that is common in non-romantic relationships as well and point to it and declare that it can only happen in romantic relationships.

Even if one or both have feelings for each other, it doesn't make everything they do romantic/sexual, especially when it hasn't been admitted to in canon. Hugs, cuddling, seeking emotional comfort, empathy, compassion, thoughtfulness, etc, are all also platonic behaviors/actions. Just because you think it's accompanied by a look or a vibe doesn't change that, it would just mean that it had an added layer of meaning for that character.

For reference, ships I've shipped with no Canon definitive romantic moments:

-Sylveride(Chicago Fire)

-Sterek(Teen Wolf) (This one might get me shot, I know, but nothing in canon made me think they were inherently romantic. One of those ones where nothing they did didn't fit a brothers/friends narrative, but had vibes for some people)

-Morcia(Criminal Minds)(ship tf out of them, but I can admit their interactions were platonic, rgardless of any possible hidden romantic feelings)

-Gibbs/DiNozzo(NCIS)

-Dom/Brian(Fast&Furious)

-McDanno (I honestly almost put this one on both lists, because there are no definitive scenes where I can't play devil's advocate and point out that brothers couldn't also say or do that, or that a non-shipper couldn't refute, but the vibes are undeniable if you're open to it as an option. They never got together but I still believe feelings were there.)

-Billy/Steve(Stranger Things)

Ships that haven't gone canon(yet) but that definitely overlap and live in a gray area between platonic and romantic because some things just are not normal in platonic relationships(Again, still doesn't make everything they do romantic/sexual):

-Buddie(911): Simialr go McDanno, but I believe they've taken it far enough to justify being on this list imo. Too many moments don't fit platonic friends.

-Bensler(SVU)

-Bethyl(TWD): I feel secure in moving this to this list after Norman confirmed feelings on Daryl's side.

shipping characters who are just friends in canon is more than okay but what’s annoying is when people take screenshots of them touching and say “friends don’t do that!”. i hate to break it to you but friends do hug and hold hands and cuddle. saying ‘friends don’t do that’ is reenforcing the idea that physical touch is reserved for lovers

[glazedcroissant]

Been thinking about Galacta knight and his use of fire. I've actually got a few headcannons about it if you want to have a read!:

So! I've actually got a whole system worked out for how I think magic in the Kirby universe might work, but let's just look at this goof first. *puts him under a magnifying glass*

To start, every mage has their own unique form of Energy magic. It's essentially their "default" manifestation of mana; the caster's most natural state of magic. It is generally seen as the safest type of magic to use, easily channeled through the body and moldable enough to use in a wide range of spells. As a bonus, its drawbacks are small, requiring a mage to burn through nearly all their mana reserves before they'd have to deal with any advirse effects. Galacta knight uses this type of magic for things like his energy swords and abusing the laws of nature by using his own mana as an ill advised substitute for sleep.

Some find their Energy magic limiting on its own, prompting research into other forms of magic to tie into their spells, such as elemental magic.

Fire magic, like all elemental magic, can be quite costly against its user if not used with caution. Every use raises the caster's body temperature, leading to sweating and eventual coughing. Abuse of the element will envitably cause minor to severe burns at channeling sights, depending on one's tolerance and overuse. It is important to time attacks and casts far enough apart from each other to allow the body time to cool down again. Some learn counter elemental spells to cut down on this recovery time—such as water or ice magic to counter fire—but such rapid heating and cooling is dangerous and harmful to the body.

Galacta knight is an incredible fire mage, having a natural aptitude for it, given his affinity. The vast majority of magic users are born, or soon develop, an affinity to a specific kind of magic. They're brought into the world with an innate understanding of that type, though it may take some time before they realize what it is. Galacta knight's being fire gives him a better tolerance to its effects than most. Even so, he is not immune, and manifesting blisteringly hot flames within one's core is, generally, unrecommended (nevermind setting your whole body alight in a blaze of glory). It's typical to see mage's using weapons or heatproof gloves as their channeling sights to help prevent self-inflicted burns, and Galacta will typically use his lance or shield for this. However, spells can often be charged and fired off faster and more powerfully when expelled through the body alone. That, and breathing fire looks cool as hell. Galacta figures a parched throat and dry eyes for a couple hours is worth the payoff. He's tried the whole counter element deal to cool off faster, but Water magic doesn't mesh well with him. He lacks the the serenity and steady flow at his core to understand it.

Also! As a fun little addition. If you're wondering why I ting his fire pink, it's because that's the color of his natural Energy magic. Elemental magic is still dependent on the user's own mana pool, with it's appearance changing from mage to mage depending on the individual's natural magic properties.

This is just my own thoughts I've scraped together into the doughy mixing bowl of my brain, of course. And, like dough, these thoughts are subject to change and grow later on. I've got some thoughts on the ins and out of How elemental magic, and the other types, are cast in terms of the technical (l say loosely cause it's literally magic) aspects of them, but I don't have all those details ironed out yet. My mind is a fickle thing, never wanting to settle on one headcannon or another. It's part of the reason I hesitate to write and draw longer character scenes and interactions, my opinions of them constantly shifting. But! I do think I'm getting to the point where I can keep them somewhat consistent in my head. Thus, my little fire magic spiel.

[81pastrys]

Hi I loved what u did with my Lando guided masturbation requests ur writing is amazing and (bc I'm a freak) I have another if ur up for it 😭 so basically Lando wants reader (his gf) to come with him to training with Jon for company and just so she's healthy and active too but she refuses joking about doing a different type of "cardio" when he gets home. So when he gets home and showers etc they're about to fuck and she's quite happy being bottom and feels like being on top is too much work so Lando does the thing she least expects him to do and that's putting her in top so she can show him her so called "cardio" routine since he knows she never does the work.

Cardi-OH

Summary— She complains about Lando always working out, but admits her favorite working is doing cardio with him.

Warnings— SMUT ; riding ; slight belly bulge kink ; teasing ; back scratching mentioned ; Lando being a little shit

A/N— KEEP. THESE. COMING. I BEG YOU THEY’RE MY FAV

Lando One Shots

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws @dollywons

Jon had asked Lando to do some extra training recently to build his shape back up for the upcoming races after winter and he obliged, but someone didn’t like the fact he was gone all the time.

“Baby, you can come with me, you did say you wanted to workout more.” Lando told her when she whined about him about to leave again. “Come on I’ll wait for you, you can do your workouts while I do mine.”

She tilted her head at him. “Lando the only working out I want to do is cardio, with you.” She joked. She laughed at herself and Lando shook his head with a smile. “Lan, I’m serious you never want to after you work out all day.”

“That’s because it’s also a work out baby.” He said. The way that he fucks, yeah it’s a workout in itself. “Well if you aren’t coming with, I’m leaving.” He stated when she didn’t make any intention to change. They said their goodbyes and she went on with her day as normal.

Lando went and did his workouts and was tired as all hell when he got home. Her words were creating thought in his head, not that she wanted to have sex everyday, but the fact he always put in the work when they do have sex. “I’m home.” He called out.

She greeted him not long after with a kiss and light grind, hoping she could get him in the mood. “Can we please?” She asked. He sighed and gave her a quick kiss.

“Can I shower and change?” He asked with a disgusted face. “I’m sweaty and sticky.” She smiled with an innuendo forming on her lips before he kissed her to stop it from spilling out.

He showered while she waited patiently. He dried off and plopped on the bed next to her. She turned to look at him with a cheeky smile. He turned to look at her and smiled back. “I never got an answer from earlier lan.” She teased.

“I don’t mind.” He said, she was giddy and began undressing. She wandered her hands over his body before he stopped her. “If you do the work.” He smiled cheekily now. She absolutely hated riding. Her smile faded and he laughed. “Well you said you wanted to do cardio, show me.”

She would hate to admit he turned her on, but he definitely did. She straddled his hips and kissed him while her hands roamed. His following suit, grasping her boobs the right way to make her breath hitch, or squeezing her hips the way she liked. She brought a hand to test her readiness for him and sure enough she was slick from just making out.

“Need any help?” He asked. He wasn’t going to be entirely mean, just a little. She nodded at him and he replaced her hand with his. He teased her folds, watching her reactions he loved so much. “What’s got you so wet baby?” He asked with a cocky smile.

“You making me do the hard work.” She joked. He slipped two fingers in with ease and she moaned. His other hand steadied her figure with a firm grip as he curled his fingers, bringing her close to the edge. “Your turn to make us feel good yeah?” He slid his fingers out and brought them to his mouth. He gave a teasing slap to her ass and she winced.

“I’m going to have a talk with Jon, because there is no way in hell I’m doing this everyday.” She said before stroking him a few times. She lined him up and slowly lowered herself. Their moans in sync as she bottomed out. She gave an experimental grind and he groaned, his grip tensing on her side making her moan out.

She stayed still, adjusting to his size. His grip loosened and one hand explored her body teasingly slow as she stilled any movement. He pressed on her stomach, making her fold into him. “You feel that?” He asked. “That’s how deep I am baby. Make good use of it.” She moaned as he pressed on her again.

She started slowly grinding, about an inch or two slipping out at a time. She was saving her energy for who knows what. “Fuck lan, you feel so good.” She moaned. She lifted herself higher, only to drop back down and hit her g-spot straight on. A gasp escaped her lips and Lando chuckled, enjoying his view of her struggling on top.

“Yeah? Hitting all the right spots?” He teased. She continued the slow pace, hoping he would crumble under the teasing pace and just fuck into her like she wanted. Lando was patient, not focusing on himself at this given time. He enjoyed watching her.

She realized this too late and her legs were shaking from the position as she wanted to speed up. “Fuck I can’t.” She whined, her legs feeling like jelly as she bounced erratically to chase her high. He felt her thighs quiver on his hips and he rubbed them to soothe her pain.

“You’ve got this baby, keep going.” He praised. “Doing such a good job on top.” Now he was just fucking around and she hated how he had the upper hand. Yes, she was getting what she wanted, but not in the way she wanted it. She felt impossibly close to her orgasm, her movements faltering as her legs shook violently at the unwelcome workout.

“I’m so close, please lan.” She moaned. She rested her upper body on his, hoping that would relieve something, but it did nothing. If anything it made her more needy for him to take over. She panted as her movements halted completely, her legs still violently shaking.

“What’s the matter baby?” He taunted. “I thought you were showing me your cardio?” His hands ran up her sides soothingly as her climax wears away from close to not there at all. She moved from straddling him and groaned at her legs, pain forming from the position.

“I hope you’re happy, neither of us even finished.” She panted next to him, exhausted. He kissed her shoulder and groped her breast again. She had barely any reaction from how tired she was.

“If I kept you on top and said keep going, would you?” He teased. She shook her head in disagreement and he smiled. “That’s what Jon does to me everyday.” He told her. He figured that was enough torment and hovered his body over her, giving in to her desires.

It took about 5 rough thrusts, scratching at his back, and few circles on her clit for her to completely crumble under him.

Safe to say Jon made a comment on the devilish scratch marks on Lando’s back the next day.

Hehe it’s long too

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @kallanfiona @itznotsophia

[orphicsun]

Rosemary (e.w): Part One

"𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬."

content / warnings: jackson ellie / fem newcomer reader, loser! ellie, the majority of tlou has not happened (joel and jesse are still alive), mentions of joel (will be in part 2), mentions of cat, jesse and dina are romantically involved, near-death situations (patrol gone wrong), mild violence, slight angst with comfort, lots of swearing, eventual smut (in part 2).

word count: 4.4k

link to part two ( status: unfinished)

Description: Newcomers come and go through Jackson, and Ellie doesn’t pay any of them much thought. However, she catches a glimpse of you. You’re the exact opposite of her, soft and sweet like cotton candy (if that were a thing in Jackson). Now she feels 14 all over again, palms clammy and freckled face hot when you’re around. When you’re not, she buries her face into her pillow and hopelessly pines. Jesse and Dina just won’t let her fumble, though.

Ellie locks the stable door behind her, the creaking of the hinges accompanying her huff. As usual, Ellie is quite sweaty and admittedly cranky after a patrol that lasted longer than it should’ve.

She and Jesse spent hours clearing out a portion of the town North of Jackson, only to find the ammunition cabinets empty and the pantries bare. To come back almost empty-handed leaves Ellie in a particularly sour mood, and now she is in no state to deal with another social interaction for the day. No offense to her best friend Jesse, but he can be annoyingly talkative on the longest days. 

“Hey, have you heard about the new group who just arrived?” Jesse’s voice snaps Ellie out of her own thoughts, and she shrugs. She walks alongside Jesse back to the weaponry to store their pistols. 

“Yeah. What about them?” Ellie has never understood why everyone makes a big fuss out of new arrivals. Jackson gets plenty of travelers. Besides, folks stay and folks go. She won’t be surprised if the entire group is headed South by tomorrow morning.

Jackson isn’t for everyone. It’s mainly for the type of people Ellie is–fine with the harsher, okay with hours of stressful patrols, and usually content to kick infected ass. Also secluded, far from larger settlements that remind her too much of a QZ. 

“There’s a girl. Maria is sayin’ she’s around our age, too.” Jesse informs her.

Ellie snorts at that, shaking her head. “So?” She opens the door to the weaponry, unloading her pistol and storing the gun on the wall alongside his. 

Jesse gives her a ‘what do you mean, so?’ look, and almost laughs at her attitude. He knows that she is more reserved when it comes to new people. Really, people in general. For the longest time, the circle was Jesse, Dina, and Ellie. Like a holy trinity that Cat occasionally popped into before departing when she and Ellie broke up. Ellie has never needed more social interaction than her friends, Joel and Tommy, and maybe a girlfriend. The only problem is that she has the social skills of an incel when it comes to women, save for the fact that most incels were taken out on breakout day. 

“We had new people just last month. What’s so special about these?” 

Jesse rolls his eyes as they walk out of the weaponry, holding the door open for Ellie despite her bitterness. “I was just informing you, jeez. What’s with the pissy mood?”

Ellie sighs, pausing outside of the building. “My bad. Just..didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and patrol didn’t help.”

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “Were you up on that PlayStation you’ve got in your mancave?”

“For the last time, it’s not a man cave,” she speaks with light disapproval in her tone.

Jesse laughs at his friend’s attitude, enjoying teasing her. “Right. Well, you go home and get some damn rest. I’m tired of dealing with your cranky ass on patrol.” He pats her shoulder, giving her a small wave before walking towards his house.

Ellie sighs and mumbles a “whatever” before turning in the other direction and heading for the small garage she has behind Joel’s house, looking forward to sleeping until she is forced to get up in the morning. 

-

Patrol is early, earlier than usual. Luckily, Ellie got plenty of sleep the night before. In her straight jeans and (against Dina’s advice to not risk hypothermia) canvas sneakers, everything is ready, and she feels lighter this morning. Not in a particularly grumpy mood, she walks down the streets to find Jesse. She is a tad bit confused–usually, Jesse is knocking at her door on patrol mornings. She grumbles under her breath at the thought that he is probably at the Tipsy Bison on some cheesy breakfast date with Dina. As much as she loves the two, she hates third-wheeling. Things are already awkward as it is. 

Ellie gets stuck in her mind as always, until a particular view cuts the thought train. There you are, in a pen filled with baby sheep, giggling and petting behind their ears. It’s an overwhelmingly sweet sight, something Ellie would usually find herself thinking of with disgust. Too sweet, like a tooth-rotting confection. But that’s not the case here, no. 

Ellie has seen plenty of pretty girls in Jackson. What is it that makes her hands clammy, and causes her face to redden in pure embarrassment? Her cheeks are so hot you could fry eggs on them. She’s embarrassed to be herself next to a pretty girl. You’re sweet and soft, and you remind her of peaches or a fluffy cake. But really, the thing that truly gets her isn’t the sheep or the way you smile at them in a way that makes even Ellie feel safe around you. It’s that outfit. 

Something she would find in a damn magazine for girls. Ellie would find herself thinking that wearing cute, feminine outfits is just dumb. In this world, where anything can happen, why wouldn’t you go for the practical? Why lace yourself up with soft frills and pink hues? You can’t run in a skirt. But looking at you, how the fabric seems to be made for you, she finds herself wondering how soft it is (and how soft to the touch you are). 

You’re the type of girl Ellie could see herself writing shitty journal entries about, your initial next to hers. You’re the type of girl she imagined tasting when she practices kissing her hand. You’re everything she needs in a daydream she could never confess to anyone else.

And then, the moment is over just before she could introduce herself to you. 

“Earth to Ellie? Whatcha staring at?” Jesse asks from behind her, causing Ellie to quickly turn around. 

“Nothing. Let’s just go.” Ellie’s voice doesn’t hide her defensiveness, and Jesse notices your figure a little bit away. He has a knowing smirk on his face, and Ellie groans. “C’mon, I’m not-”

“Didn’t say anything,” he points out with a surrender. 

The patrol goes normally. Kill infected, raid for supplies, endure Jesse’s dirty jokes. The only difference is, Ellie feels the need to ask about you on the way home.

Mounted on horses, Ellie decides to speak up. “Hey..do you know anything about that new girl?” 

Jesse shrugs casually. “She’s good friends with Dina already.” Ellie nods. Dina is the most social out of the trio, so it makes sense. 

“Is she nice?” Ellie asks, taking a small glance at Jesse. 

“Why? Interested in her or something?” Jesse replies, slightly smiling. It’s clear that he enjoys the fact that he knows how to get to her. 

Of course, she scoffs, raising her defenses. “No! Why do you think that?”

He laughs, eyes roving over her face. “Well, your cheeks are red. That’s the first sign. Secondly, you keep interrogating me over this chick.” 

Ellie sighs and looks down at Shimmer’s mane, trying to focus on something other than Jesse’s stupid face so that she can admit it. “Yeah, maybe I think she’s pretty cute. But she’s probably straight, so it doesn’t matter,” she mumbles quietly. 

“You’re such a pessimist, Ellie. You don’t know what she is.” He reminds Ellie, tone laced with tough love. 

“Yeah, well, how am I supposed to?” She asks though she doesn’t expect an actual answer. 

Jesse almost laughs at that. “By asking her?”

“What?! I can’t just ask if she likes girls! What if she gets offended?” 

“Dude, chill. I mean, just talk to her. Don’t you have a gaydar or somethin’?” He quips, making her crinkle her nose in protest.

“Yeah, right. All gays can just sense each other.” Ellie says with a half-hearted glare.

Jesse sighs. “Look, why don’t you just ask her to that summer festival thing? You know, the one with the dance?”

Her eyes widen at that. “A dance? That sounds like a nightmare.” 

“You are a lost cause,” he says as he rolls his eyes. 

It was around 7 p.m. when Ellie and Jesse made it to the gates. Ellie sighs outside of the Tipsy Bison. 

“Do I have to come in with you?” Ellie asks while already knowing the answer. 

“Yes! I need one of those cheesesteaks for dinner, and you could use some grub other than whatever is in that pathetic fridge of yours.” Jesse says, giving Ellie a smirk that suddenly sends her stomach feeling uneasy. He knows something she doesn’t. The only other time Ellie was given that look was the day before Jesse put a corn snake in her garage house as a “prank” for her 17th birthday. Still, Jesse is right. All she has in that mini fridge of hers are leftovers and a pack of instant rice. Her stomach growls in contrast to her protests.

“Ladies first,” Jesse teases, holding the door open for her.

Ellie sighs, feeling a bit cranky as usual at the end of the patrol, but walks into the building. She finds herself immediately freezing at the sight of you there beside Dina, laughing at an inside joke and munching on cheese fries. 

“Oh my god, fuck me.” Ellie curses under her breath. She can already feel the heat rising to her cheeks, pink mixing within the freckled surface. She just hopes that you won’t notice. 

“Don’t be a wimp, go say hi.” Jesse orders lightly behind Ellie, pointing to the area where you’re seated. Ellie swallows, and her boots feel almost like bricks on her feet. Jesse rolls his eyes, practically dragging her over to Dina and you. 

You seem to look up from your meal, eyes scanning over her. She feels like she is being evaluated. God, you must be thinking about how awkward she looks. She can feel her hands get all sweaty like they did when she first laid eyes on you, and her hands shake. She tugs her jacket sleeves down and nearly expects the worst. 

“Hi!” You smile, and you tell Ellie your name. All of the anxiety bubbles into a mix of dread and something giddy. Dread, because she can’t function properly around the one girl who makes her nervous as fuck. Giddiness, because you’re so sweet and lovely and pretty and kissable-

“Hi.” She manages to croak out, struggling to make eye contact. Fuck, how do I look at her? Do I focus on one of her eyes or can I blink and look away? I could wink. Oh, hell no. Don’t do that, Ellie. Instead tries to force an extremely nervous smile onto her face. “Name’s Ellie.”

“I know.” You simply say, still smiling slightly before stabbing a couple of fries with a plastic fork. There is some awkward silence before Dina fucks up Ellie’s momentum with the most nerve-wracking conversion starter. 

“Ellie here has a tattoo.” She brags to you, gesturing to Ellie’s arm. Your eyes light up, and you turn towards her. 

“Really?! I’ve always wanted one, but my parents would kill me.” You say excitedly. “Can I see?” 

Ellie quickly nods, a little flustered with the attention thrown onto her. She shimmies her jacket off, leaving her in a pale blue sweater. Pulling the sleeve up to her elbow, she shows you the moth and fern inked into her skin. You scooch to the edge of the booth, closer to her, and she swears she can smell your perfume. Something sweet like vanilla, perhaps? It just reminds her of cake and whipped frosting. Her mind is suddenly less focused on your eyes roving over her arm, and more on wondering how you taste. She realizes how shitty that is and quickly tries to back out of her thoughts, but she looks down to find you looking up at her expectantly. 

“Ellie here zones out 24/7, don’t mind her,” Jesse informs you, trying to push the sudden agenda he and Dina have going on. Ellie is practically burning right now. The air in the room feels limited, and the clashing of dishes in the background that she suddenly can’t seem to tune out isn’t helping. Ellie suddenly clears her throat, pulling away and putting her jacket back on. 

“Woah, where are you going?” Dina asks, not paying attention to the obvious nerves emitting from her friend. 

“Gonna go home and take a shower,” is all Ellie can find herself saying before making a beeline for the door. 

The air is humid, but it isn’t much different from what Ellie felt inside. Ellie sighs, leaning against the wall. She really fucked tonight up. You were so sweet and inviting, and all she could do was tremble like a leaf and say a few boring words. Not only that, but you probably think that she is rude now, just walking out right after meeting you. She just hopes your feelings aren’t hurt in any way. 

-

The universe officially hates Ellie Williams. 

There, in bold letters, are the patrol assignments for the week. The paper is pinned to the corkboard outside of the town hall. This morning, with you? Ellie can’t tell if she wants to cry or laugh. Either way, she is dreading today. 

“Hey, partner!” You greet her, clearly in a cheerful mood. She wants to kiss the corner of your lips on both sides just to feel your smile against her lips, but she is way too much of a pussy for that. Plus, you could be straight. You’re probably straight. 

Ellie has to process how fast you found her, but when she wraps her head around it and finally can think of a coherent thought, it’s a confused one. 

“Uh, hey..aren’t you new here?” She asks, scratching the corner of her mouth. 

“Yeah. Tommy said you would be helping me out with our patrol today?” You told her, watching Ellie’s face grow from confused to almost panicked. “I can find a new partner if you don’t-”

“No!” She basically shouts at you, visibly cringing when people nearby stop to look at her. “I just mean, it’s fine. I just haven’t trained anyone in a long time.” 

“Right. Well, we better head out then, huh? I was warned that the trail Maria gave us is one of the longer ones.” You say, looking at Ellie for a response. 

Ellie doesn’t know what it is about you, but you make a conversation feel like a trip down to the first ring of hell. Even thinking that may be rude, and she curses her thoughts, but you’re pretty and kind. Ellie is a sweaty, awkward loser. She knows it must probably be hell for you to have to talk to her, too. 

She swallows, nodding. “West trails go on for a while, but it’s fine. We’ll make it back to Jackson before night.” 

You smile and nod in response, seemingly unbothered by her odd behavior as you follow her to the stables. 

One thing about horse riding is that it is one of the most calming activities Ellie has available for her. Even when Jesse or Dina yaps her ears off, she finds peace on the back of a horse. After a long, stressful patrol, Ellie can always have a bit of respite with Shimmer. A girl with plenty of nerves can surely calm herself with the feel of coarse hair, accompanied by a comforting neigh. However, on this particular patrol, nothing about the horse ride along the Western trails is peaceful, or even tolerable. 

Your soft chest is pressed up against her back. Even through the thickness of her hoodie, she can feel your rapid heartbeat. Her mind wanders–not to filth, but pure curiosity for you. If she were to confess, you’d surely find her obsession with you to be weird and possibly creepy. She just can’t help but wonder what makes your heart race so fast, though.

Are you not used to riding horses? It could be possible that in past experiences, you just had to walk from place to place. That doesn’t make sense, though. You have a family, don’t you? Your parents came with you, and there is no way you all just walked from the middle of nowhere to Jackson with just–

Ellie’s internal rambling ceases when she feels your arms, currently wrapped around her waist, squeeze her. Suddenly is she so conscious of the fact that your palm must be able to feel her stomach expand and falter with each breath she takes? That means you know how uneven her breathing is. You probably don’t ramble in your head about Ellie’s stupid lungs, though. 

“Sorry. I’m just trying not to fall off of this huge thing.” You say, and Ellie can hear the hint of fear in your voice. It makes her heart jump, and a strange feeling of protectiveness enters her system. She stops herself from showing it though, not wanting to scare you away from her.

“This huge thing?” She questions, never hearing that term used for a horse before. 

“Yeah, yeah!” You laugh softly, the sound music to her ears. “I just have an irrational fear of falling off of horses, okay?”

“Fair. I’m just, uh.” Ellie trails off, trying to find her train of thought as it keeps slipping through her grasp. “I’m used to horses, bein’ here in Jackson for a while.” 

Your hands are warm, resting against her stomach. She can feel the heat through the fabric of her shirt. 

Through the nerves bubbling up in her stomach like the usual acid, she finds the courage to take one hand off of Shimmer’s reins. It finds your hand, giving you a comforting squeeze. She is half-expecting you to be uncomfortable with her action, but to her surprise, you let out a soft sigh. 

Like music to her ears. 

-

Ellie is still tying Shimmer up as you scope out the area. Her hands are sweaty from the contact with yours, and her heart is beating through her chest so fast it almost hurts. 

The sudden croak stops her in her tracks, her head turning towards you. You’re stepping back and nearly tripping over yourself to scramble away from a clicker, the gross-looking creature emerging from a hole in the fence you were just studying. 

“Shit!” Ellie grits through her teeth, her feet carrying her fast. 

Ellie has always been on a sort of adrenaline through every patrol she goes on. She has good instincts. She works well under pressure. For some, thinking so impulsively can be fatal. For Ellie, it’s just natural–how she was raised. 

Ellie fights for reasons other than survival, however. Her own life isn’t always plugged into the equation along with the actions she takes. However, her mind flashes with a thought: what if I died right now? Would she be able to defend herself?

And suddenly, her life means everything. The fight becomes more intense. 

Her hand harshly grips the creature’s jaw, tilting it upward to plunge her switchblade into its throat. It lets out a blood-curdling yell and falters. She lets its body drop and rushes toward you without another thought to the corpse a few feet away. 

You’re on the ground, tears brimming your sweet eyes. The adrenaline rush still courses through her body as her eyes scan your body for any sign of a bite. 

Not again, please. Not after what happened. 

A relieved gasp leaves her when she realizes you’re safe. She looks over your face, and her chest aches when she sees the fear in your eyes. 

“You’re okay. It’s all okay, it’s dead.” 

You only nod in response, not trusting your voice at the moment. Ellie doesn’t mind. She crouches in front of you, fingers stroking through your hair, coaxing you to calm down. The only sounds left in the area are your quiet sniffles and the wind blowing through the trees behind you. 

During the ride back to Jackson, you clutch onto Ellie just as tightly as the first time. 

-

The summer festival. The small group that plans social events in Jackson hosts one every year in July. Ellie has always preferred winter when she could layer up her body and subtly admire Wyoming mountain ranges on lookouts. Summer is hot and filled with mosquitos, but Dina and Jesse love the summer festival, so Ellie goes every year. 

The summer festival always left Ellie overwhelmed. She gets sweaty in her flannel, couples love to swap spit in the lines for face paint, and little kids get especially loud after sugary treats. The worst part? They include a dance along with it. The majority of Jackson dancing with each other accompanied by hot weather is as much of a nightmare as it seems. It isn’t Ellie’s ideal Friday night, especially when she could be at home strumming her guitar, or even just asleep. 

“She’s going to the festival with us, by the way.” Jesse grins, leaning against Ellie’s front door. 

“Oh, great,” Ellie says, a failed attempt at sarcasm. In all actuality, her pulse races when she pictures dancing with you.

Jesse laughs. “Dude, don’t act like you haven’t been daydreaming about her every day since that patrol.” 

“Sure.” Ellie rolls her eyes. “It’s not like I’m in love with her or anything. I just think she’s cute.” Even admitting that causes embarrassment to plague her cheeks, however.

“That is exactly how it starts, smart one.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ellie asks, voice thick with exasperation. 

“It starts with a ‘oh, she’s just cute.’ And then before you know it, you’ll be wearing matching ugly Christmas sweaters with her every year, just like me and Dina.” Jesse says.

“Oh, for god’s sake. I’m not whipped like you are. I just think she’s pretty, and I wouldn’t mind getting to know her.” She explains. 

“And she wouldn’t mind getting to know you, either.” 

“Oh my god, will you stop talking in riddles for five minutes?” Ellie groans, lightly smacking his shoulder. “Can’t you just..say what you mean?”

“I mean that she’s been gushing about you ever since you saved her. Something about a patrol and you comforting her. She has this crush on you, it’s adorable.” Jesse tells her, a grin on his face. 

Ellie’s heart skips a beat. So you like her, too?

“Like I said before, you gotta ask her to be your plus one,” Jesse suggests. 

The thought of spending her night with you instead of being the festival’s wallflower seems appealing. Even more appealing than just staying in like a recluse. Still, her nerves nag at her. 

“Are you sure I should? Isn’t she already going with us?” Ellie asks with uncertainty in her tone. 

“Yeah, but you want to make it clear you at least want something to do with her, right? If you don’t talk to her, she’ll think it’s just a friendly thing.” 

“True,” Ellie mumbles. 

“So do it. Go talk to her.” Jesse urges. 

“Jeez, okay. I don’t have to right away.” 

-

Joel has always conveyed the importance of gift-giving. He is a man who isn’t the best with his words. He bottles it up so easily and explodes just the same. Ellie has the same habit, so she uses that advice–gift-giving. 

Joel himself has given plenty of gifts and services. He’d gifted Ellie with her first guitar. He made sure she didn’t go without a nice meal when she holed herself up in her room after her and Cat’s breakup. That voice is simply lodged in her head after the amount of times she has had to hear him say it. 

“How are you doin’, kiddo?” 

Gifts come in all shapes and sizes. Some gifts are the ones you think thoroughly about before you offer them. Some are unintentionally impactful, the type you keep with you for years after, even if the person who gave it to you doesn’t realize what it means to you. 

Ellie likes to think gifts can be physical, too. You can give a kiss or a hug, and that proves the notion that certain gifts are special to certain people. You’d want to be given a kiss from someone you romantically love. 

Ellie thought it over before knocking on your door. She heard things about what people had given their love interests before the apocalypse. As Joel said, bouquets and candy were cheesy but it worked. Ellie doesn’t have a local grocery store, however, unless you count the one with its workers being infected and its interior neglected, surrounded by overgrowth. 

Ellie isn’t much of a baker, either. Her garage home’s oven is sparsely used, her microwave in favor; the previous night, her oven was used. Three times, actually. Two times resulted in charred, burnt remains of what was supposed to be a cake. The third time, Ellie put her dignity aside and went to Joel for help, and she reluctantly let him in on her intentions. 

So here she is, in her red flannel that doesn’t have any holes in it and a pair of boot-cut jeans, painfully styled with crusty Converse. She knocks at your door, a container with a vanilla cake in the other. 

Ellie’s eyes fill with hearts when your head peeks out. You open the door wider when you recognize her face, and your eyes naturally trail down to the item in her hands. 

Ellie clears her throat. “Uh, brought you something.” 

And of course, you’re already smiling ear to ear. “Yeah? What’d you bring me?” 

Something as sweet as you. That is what Ellie thinks, but instead, she gives the blunt, not unkind answer. “Cake.” 

Ellie holds out the container for you, and you accept it without hesitance. For just a split second, she feels the warmth of your fingertips as they brush against her rough, calloused ones. And then for another second, she lets herself dwell on her deepest thoughts–she wishes she could intertwine her fingers with yours and know what it’s like to be loved by the sun herself. 

“Also–” Ellie scratches her lip, trying not to sputter out her thoughts. “Since Dina and Jesse are going to be all over each other at the festival, I was thinking we could hang out. If you don’t mind.”

You beam as brightly as the sun. “Yeah! And thanks for the cake, Els.” 

Els. That name has her face hot and her hands clammy. She just stares at you for a moment, giving a nod and as polite a goodbye as she can manage before she heads back to her garage house to think of the fact that you just called her the cutest thing you could possibly call her. 

Els it is, then. Els is taking you to the summer festival tomorrow. 

taglist: @hotpinkskitties, @mars4hellokitty, @jhyoos, @elliesngirl, @moonfloweredprincess, @morticeras, @starryeyedlovergirll, @l0veylace, @abbysmeatrider, @ferxanda, @vahnilla, @frillynpinkprincess, @plasticl0v3r, @meow4510, @eriiwaii, @g4ys0n, @mitskimisfit, @ruelezz, @bewareofmyglock, @witzs

fic taglist: @piercedome, @violetszn, @ellieshothousewife, @natscloset

want to join my taglist? click here

[mathewryf]

This is doing the same thing to me that the Sonic Forces Character Creator did: It's making me want to sit down and design my Sonic-sona (again) I need time and energy to sit down and do this dammit xD

Here's mine. At least, this is the version that sort of reflects me. Putting my rambling under a read more because this managed to make me type despite how tired I am!!!

The parts that are solidified: Dog as the species, Tails as my favorite character, my first memories are with movies/anime (both Sonic X and the OVA are part of my early memories, but apparently there's a lot of Sonic my older brothers showed me that I don't remember), and lastly, the Characters as what appeals to me most.

My favorite fan activity is listed as "other" because it's hard for me to pick one favorite thing. Maybe if there was a "deep analysis of the characters, stories and themes" option I would have picked that xD

As for favorite game: I picked Sonic Adventure 2 Battle because it hits some sort of common ground for the things I look for in Sonic. Both of the Adventure Games, Heroes and Unleashed sit at the top of my "favorite Sonic game" lists consistently, and I'm always cycling through them. That said, I haven't experienced every game first hand, nor have I even experienced everything the games I have played have to offer. That's one thing I love about the games: I'm always finding new ways to appreciate them, and new experiences. I only recently got to playing my copy of Black Knight, and it's like I was suddenly home again.

Now, some notes on the avatar:

I chose dog as a species because I am constantly compared to dogs IRL, and dogs IRL seem to really like me.

I go back and forth on whether to have the folded ears or the pointed ears due in part to the kinds of dogs I get compared to. if it was possible I'd have one ear pointed and one ear folded down xD

For the eyes, I went with a rounder shape because I'm a bit of a shy doofus IRL. To the point where I can be a bit too passive. I chose blue for the color because it was as close as I could get to my real eye color (central heterochromia B/G)

I chose red for the fur here because I actually used to have red hair! There's still shades of it present, especially when the sun hits it.

I went with the typical muzzle color because I'm basic™

As for the outfit, every time I come to this part I always ask myself "if I had my choice and money was no issue, what would I wear?"

Somehow I always come back to a leather jacket. I've tried ponchos, hoodies, hell I've even experimented with vests, but leather jackets just call to me.

As for the gloves, the ones I picked were to match the jacket, but the gloves I actually prefer to wear are a specific style of safety glove!

Building off of that, I also am extremely picky about footwear! To the point I know my boot size off the top of my head xD

I chose the boots in the profile card because they were the closest to the boots I wear IRL, but even then it leaves a lot to be desired. There weren't any shoes that reflected my casual shoes, either... what a travesty!

For context, here's a picture of the exact boot I wear for work:

And here's a picture of my casual shoes:

If it wasn't obvious, I did a LOT of thinking when I was making this card xD

It's funny, actually: I can put so much thought into something like this, but I can't ever seem to bring that energy out when I'm trying to actually draw what I see in my mind.

Someday I will, though. It matters that much to me!

ok so the new Sonic Channel fursona maker is in Japanese. Obviously. So for those of us who can't read Japanese very well, here's a rundown of the Profile page translations so you can work it accurately without defaulting to a translate page every five seconds!

Special thanks to @krafterwrites and @sonicbible for their help!!!! Esp sonicbible for helping me translate what my websites could not lmao

Selections under the cut!

Favorite Character

Can I just say? Sticks being included FLOORED me. Like there's my GIIIIRL. Also Maria??? MEPHILES??? Hello???

Favorite Game

SONIC SHUFFLE AND CHRONICLES APPEARANCE?????

What was your first Sonic experience?

What is your favorite fan activity?

What do you like about Sonic?

ALRIGHT GANG GO FORTH AND MAKE YOUR OCS. AND LET THEM KNOW WE LOVE SONIC SHUFFLE

[himasgod]

HOUSEWARDENS X READER

Where you are mute PART 2

How would the housewardens act towards you if you were mute?

kalim, idia, vil and malleus.

Part one with riddle, leona, azul is on my profile <3

Kalim Al-Asim

For Kalim, the fact that you're mute doesn't change how much he enjoys being with you.

If there's anyone who's never had any prejudices about how people communicate, it's him.

From the very beginning, he treats you with the same warmth and enthusiasm as anyone else.

His reaction to learning that you can't speak is more curiosity than concern.

"That's amazing! So how do you communicate? Do you have a special method? Teach me, I want to learn!"

He's not immediately good at sign language because he's a bit slow with memory :( but that doesn't stop him from trying his best.

If you use another method, like writing or using expressions, Kalim adapts quickly because he's already someone who is very guided by emotions and gestures.

Something he loves about you is that, even though you don't speak, you express so much with your eyes and your smile. He finds it beautiful how your face conveys so much without words.

When he's really excited, he forgets that you can't answer him right away and talks nonstop, but as soon as he notices you need a moment to type or respond with signs, he waits patiently with a big smile.

"Oh, sorry! I got too excited again, didn't I? Hehe, it's okay! Take your time, I want to know what you think."

Because he's so expressive, it's easy for you to understand him without him having to say much.

Sometimes just by looking at him, you know exactly what he's feeling, and that makes him even more attached to you.

If someone makes an insensitive comment about your muteness, Kalim flies into a rage. He's not the type to get angry easily, but if someone disrespects you, you can see the serious glint in his eyes as he says,

"Don't ever talk like that again."

Overall, Kalim is the type of person who loves and understands beyond words, and being with you is proof of that.

Idia Shroud

When Idia finds out you're mute, his first thought is like

“Great! I don't have to worry about talking out loud all the time-”

It's not that it bothers him when people talk, but he's someone who hates forced social interactions and finds it stressful to have to respond constantly.

However, when he starts getting closer to you, he realizes something important: it's not that you don't talk, it's that you have a different way of communicating. And that intrigues him more than he thought.

If you use sign language, Idia feels clumsy trying to learn it.

His fingers are fast for games, but when he tries to sign, it feels like he's casting a weird spell with his fingers.

“Ugh, this is harder than learning to program in five different languages…”

But if you use a device to type or communicate in other ways, he feels much more comfortable.

He programs a personalized app that helps you type responses faster, or even a voice synthesizer if you ever need it.

At first, he gets nervous trying to interpret your expressions, but after spending so much time with you, he begins to understand you with just a glance.

"Hey, hey, … in this new game, there's a character who communicates without speaking, just like you! Want to see it? I'm sure you'll love it."

If someone ever makes a hurtful comment about your muteness, Idia first goes pale with fright, then red with fury, and then hacks their devices to play a cruel prank on them

No one messes with his special someone and gets away with it :>

He may not say it out loud, but Idia truly loves how you communicate without words. After all, the best connections don't always require sound.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil has always believed that elegance isn't just about appearance, but also about the way a person communicates and expresses themselves.

When he meets you and discovers you're mute, his first impression is fascination.

“How interesting… You speak without words. It's a unique and beautiful form of expression.”

If you use sign language, Vil learns it without difficulty. He has an excellent memory and is a perfectionist, so he masters it quickly.

If you communicate in other ways, such as with expressions or writing, he watches closely. He becomes adept at interpreting your emotions with just a glance.

He loves the way you convey so much with so little. Sometimes, when others are filling the air with unnecessary words, he looks at you and feels that the connection you have is purer and more genuine than any empty conversation.

When you're in public with him, he doesn't let anyone make you feel inferior for not speaking up.

If someone tries to belittle you, a single glance from him is enough to make them immediately shut up.

“You don't need words to prove your worth. Your presence speaks volumes.”

Malleus Draconia

For Malleus, the fact that you are mute is neither strange nor worrisome.

He himself has spent centuries surrounded by awkward silences and conversations filled with empty formalities.

In comparison, your presence is refreshing.

From the beginning, he takes a genuine interest in how you communicate.

If you use sign language, he learns quickly, and whether you prefer to write or use gestures, he adapts seamlessly.

He isn't someone who needs words to understand you. Over time, he develops a special sensitivity to your body language, to the point where he sometimes asks you something and, before you answer, he already knows the answer just by looking at you.

"You don't need to explain anything. I can see the answer in your eyes."

He loves the reassurance you bring. In a world where people always fear him or treat him with extreme formality, the fact that you can communicate without words gives him a special kind of intimacy he's never experienced before.

When you go for a walk together at night, the silence between you isn't awkward.

Sometimes he simply sits beside you and enjoys the feeling of company without needing to speak.

If anyone dares to belittle you or mock your muteness, his dark presence becomes crushing. Suddenly lightning illuminates the sky man, and his gaze turns icy.

"You dare disrespect someone so precious to me? How insolent."

He's a prince, but to you, he's just Malleus, someone who understands you beyond words.

[meadowfics]

in the ring

boxer!kang dae ho x f!reader headcannons

warnings: 18+

dae ho is fiercely protective of you.

he’s not overbearing, but his eyes are always scanning your surroundings when you’re out together.

years in the marines made him hyper-aware, and it shows in the way he instinctively places himself between you and any perceived danger.

he loves holding your hand with his stronger ones, but his favorite is resting his hand on the small of your back.

it’s second nature for him.

sometimes he’ll rub small circles with his thumb, sending a shiver down your spine.

if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, dae ho’s stare alone is enough to send them packing.

he never needs to say anything; the presence he carries is intimidating enough.

the second he looks back at you, that sharp gaze softens completely.

he’s a sucker for you watching him train in the boxing ring.

knowing you’re there on the sidelines, admiring how hard he works, makes him push himself even more.

when he catches you biting your lip as he pounds the punching bag, he’ll flash you a knowing smirk.

“do see something you like, baby?”

dae ho always smells like a mix of sweat, cedarwood, and that subtle hint of cologne you bought him.

after training, he loves wrapping his arms around you, sweat and all.

“thought you liked me raw and real,”

he teases, pulling you closer despite your protests.

"you know I do, big tiger."

he spoils you in the most unexpected ways.

he’s not flashy, but if he catches you eyeing something, it’s yours.

he has a weakness for jewelry, seeing his initials around your neck or a bracelet he bought on your wrist makes him feel like you’re his in every sense.

he uses his prize money from the matches he wins to buy everything you want <3

dae ho loves control.

the man has spent his life gaining it.

he’s the type to pin your wrists above your head, his voice low and raspy as he whispers how beautiful you are.

“mine,”

he growls against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck.

the way his rough hands contrast with his gentle kisses leaves you breathless.

sometimes, he’s soft and teasing, watching you squirm as he drags things out, loving how much you want him.

other times, after a tough match, he’s all adrenaline and dominance, needing to remind himself that he has you, that you’re safe and his.

dae ho’s strength is ridiculous.

he picks you up effortlessly, carrying you to the bed like you weigh nothing.

during sex, he will move you around into different positions without any struggle.

gosh those boxing armssss!!!!!!

he loves how easily he can toss you around.

sometimes, he does it just to hear your surprised giggle.

he trains like a machine, but when he’s home, he melts into you.

after a long day, he loves lying with his head on your stomach, your fingers running through his hair.

he hums softly, letting the sound of your heartbeat calm him down.

he has a habit of tracing his fingers along your skin when you’re cuddling.

calloused hands, rough from years of boxing, slowly gliding across your soft skin.

he memorizes every freckle, every scar, each one making you more beautiful in his eyes.

when he’s away for fights or training camps, he calls you every night without fail.

dae-ho's voice is low and soothing, telling you about his day before he insists you tell him everything about yours.

“i miss you, baby,”

he whispers.

“i hate sleeping without you.”

sometimes, he gets jealous, though he tries to play it cool.

if anyone flirts with you, his arm tightens around your waist, and he’ll lean down, murmuring something like, “they should know you’re taken.”

it’s possessive, but never in a way that makes you feel trapped.

it’s like he needs the world to know you’re his.

he loves teasing you. sometimes when you’re getting ready, he’ll sneak up behind you, peppering kisses down your neck.

“we could stay in,”

he whispers, his hands wandering towards your hips.

“who needs dinner when i’ve got you to eat?”

again, he’s a huge tease in the gym too.

when you come to work out with him, he’ll stand behind you at the squat rack, hands just barely grazing your waist.

“lower,”

he instructs, his voice dripping with amusement as he just stares at your ass and waist.

“that’s it, baby. perfect form.”

if you ever wear his boxing robe around the house, it’s game over.

seeing you in his name, his team logo stitched proudly on your back, ignites something primal in him.

“damn, baby,”

he groans, pulling you against him.

“you really wanna test me today?”

"come and find out what is underneath here, big boy."

at the end of the day, no matter how rough the fight or how long the training, dae ho always comes home to you.

you’re his peace.

“i love you, baby. forever.”

masterlist

author's note: this is based off of this inbox message someone sent me <3

taglist: @chunkzdeluluwife , @theredvelvetbitch , @martinasr00 , @ameliahaa , @googie-jeon , @casually-simping , @erinkeenan , @thewinterv , @breakmeoff , @breeisaslay22 

I do not own the pictures used above

[affableramen]

nsfw headcanons for some men in genshin impact

Neuvillette:

Neuvillette has a great deal of self-control. If you work closely in the same space, he will treat you respectfully, despite you having bounced on his dick a night before.

He’s not very acknowledgeable at BDSM and he certainly hasn’t thought about it before your presence in his life, yet with you he is open for new feelings and sensations, that’s for sure.

His go-to strategy with his lover is pushing them against the wall when he feels excited. He’s passionate in bed, no matter how collected and calm he’s in public, one-to-one with you he can bring you immense pleasure and vivid emotions.

He’s very suitable for a virgin partner, making the surroundings incredibly welcoming and comfortable for you.

Adores food play and wants to feast on you with excellent preparation and meal options.

Pantalone:

He likes bending his lover over a surface. Desk, kitchen counter, or a wall.

He loves receiving head a little bit too much. He likes being “serviced” in general.

Light BDSM but only if he is in a mood for it. He rather prefers using his body and fingers as a tool.

Very edgy and tricks you into cumming but stops once he sees you nearing the peak, and restarts all over again.

He is quite horny, but separates working times and personal life. He might ignore his lover if they work in the same space, because he doesn’t want to get animalistic.

Suitable for a partner who is inexperienced. He takes his time and ensure he’s gentle enough, throughout the process asking whether or not you’re okay. King of aftercare.

Dottore:

He likes doing it in public, because of the thrill it gives him.

He likes edging you and coercing into belief he’d let you cum so easily, but instead he prolongs your both’s orgasms.

He would create a toy personally for your needs and specific body type.

Dottore is all way into experimenting, so he doesn’t fear BDSM and other practices. Yet, he asks you before trying something new. No matter how much of a villain he is, he is not a villain one-to-one with you.

He likes giving, rather than receiving. He’s a very active partner.

He’s a bit rough, so better for experienced people. But he’s only rough because he’s inexperienced himself. This man spent his whole life on the science, he’s not that interested in psychical pleasures at all.

Baizhu:

He is super gentle and patient in bed, especially in the first time between you. However, as you get to know each other, it is just a matter of time until he grabs you by your wrists and presses you against the wall somewhere in a secluded corner.

He is not loud at all, and most of the time he focuses on your sounds that fuel his passion up.

Baizhu is the person who doesn’t hesitate to go down on you, and he will do so (in your first time too).

He secretly loves leaving bite marks all over your body, your neck is his favourite.

He’s open for toys, but he prefers exciting substances instead.

[gingerteafairy]

“more rodrick fics!” me and the crowd yell in unison

say no more, rodrick's back

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

rodrick heffley x reader

summary: Rodrick feels bad for being dyslexic, but you're always there to support him. tags n warnings: fluff, college!rodrick, maybe a little angst and low self esteem, dyslexia.word count: 1.5k masterlist

A/N: one of my best friends is dyslexic, so i thought about her doing this. she believes in canon dyslexic rodrick lmao

What wouldn’t a human do to rack up extra hours for their college resume? Once again, you and Rodrick found yourselves sitting through a lecture you didn’t even know the topic of.

On stage, an older woman spoke with the confidence of someone in the middle of a great dream, refusing to wake up. The audience, on the other hand, looked like they were trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

Rodrick, already slouched in his seat, pulled out his phone and started typing, subtly gesturing for you to do the same.

Rod: This lecture sucks. Get me out of hereeeeee.

You: So boring. I don’t think she even knows what she’s talking about. She keeps asking if she’s making sense or if she’s right.

Rod: you actually paying attention to this shyt?

You: I would be if I weren’t distracted by the fact that she’s wearing a leopard print dress, a neon green belt, and hot pink boots.

Rodrick lowered his phone slightly, glancing up at the woman on stage.

Rod: That’s stile right there. You got any woter?

You: Woter?

Rod: Yeah, woter. The liquid that kills thrust.

You: THRUST

Rod: OH MY GOD. Watter and thirst.

You: AAAAAAAAA.

Rodrick widened his eyes and smacked his forehead with his palm.

Rod: Doesn’t matter. You know I’m epileptic.

You: You mean dyslexic?

Rod: No, that’s a soda.

You nearly choked on your laugh, quickly covering your mouth to avoid drawing attention.

You: Dyslexia is when someone has trouble reading and writing. Epilepsy is seizures.

Rod: Ure just making up words now. My psichrist told me it’s epilepsy.

You: Considering what you do with drumsticks, I kinda see it.

Rod: stfu, you’re being a idiot.

You: How did you even get into college?

Rodrick smirked, lazily draping an arm over the back of his chair.

Rod: Because you woudn’t suvive with out me.

You: So you rigged the tests?

Rod: Anything for my wondrfu girlfriend.

Rodrick finally glanced away from his phone to look at you. His smirk softened before he leaned in and pressed a slow, unhurried kiss to your cheek. Then, he lowered his phone and scanned the room. The auditorium was empty enough that no one cared what you two were doing.

Picking up his phone again, he typed:

Rod: Looks like this thing wraping up. Wanna go get an amburger?

You: Let’s go now. We already signed in at the entrance.

Rodrick nodded in approval, shoving his phone into his pocket as he stood up. He waited for you to step ahead, then grabbed your hand, fingers intertwining with yours as you walked toward the parking lot.

The campus was quiet—the other students were probably skipping the lecture entirely or napping somewhere.

When you reached the van, Rodrick unlocked the door and pulled it open, pausing before getting in.

“Hey, what did you put for letter three?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“For the test?” You held back a laugh as you caught the small mistake and slid into the passenger seat.

“Yeah. I think I got it totally wrong. Why do we still have math in college anyway?” He shook his head, turning the key in the ignition. “I mean… we still have that thing with the number lines.”

“You mean Roman numerals?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms with an amused smile.

Rodrick rolled his eyes dramatically, throwing his head back against the seat.

“Yeah. There’s this crowd pleaser in my class who wrote the test questions in Roman numerals. Everyone laughed at him.”

“Wow, that’s mean.” You bit your lip to keep from laughing.

Rodrick waved his hands around dramatically before dropping them onto the steering wheel.

“There’s something wrong with that kid. He asked me what LII was like I’m an idiot.”

You tilted your head, curious. “And what did you do?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, like he was still annoyed about it.

“Told him to quit being a psychopath making up numbers. That one doesn’t even exist. I know because numbers only go up to XX. High School biology.”

You widened your eyes, barely holding in your laughter. "I never made that connection before. You must be a genius."

Rodrick, clearly pleased with himself, puffed out his chest and stretched his arms as if he were carrying the weight of immense knowledge on his back.

"A lot of geniuses were dyslexic. I looked it up on ChatGPT." He paused dramatically, resting his hands on the steering wheel before shooting you a serious look. "By the way, I love being born in this era. I have no idea how I’d survive without ChatGPT."

You laughed, leaning slightly toward him.

"So I guess you hate those people who say they were born in the wrong generation."

Rodrick groaned, throwing his head back once again.

"Totally. As if these kids wouldn’t be glued to their phones no matter what era they lived in." He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "At least I’m honest about my eight hours of screen time."

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised.

"I never realized you were on your phone that much."

Rodrick scratched the back of his neck, glancing out the window like he was reluctant to admit something.

"It's just... when you're not with me, I kinda get stuck on it."

Warmth spread through your chest at his confession. You smiled and reached out, gently touching his chin to turn his face toward you.

"You’re such a sweetheart, you know that?"

Rodrick blinked a few times, looking caught off guard. He opened his mouth to say something but hesitated, his gaze flickering down to the dashboard before meeting yours again.

"Don’t you ever feel bad about dating someone so…" He took a deep breath, swallowing hard. "...so dumb?"

Your smile disappeared instantly.

"Dumb?" You furrowed your brows, leaning in slightly.

Rodrick pressed his lips together, staring at the steering wheel. He shook his head, like he already knew you were going to deny it but still couldn’t fully believe it himself.

"Rodrick, you're not dumb. You just have more trouble reading. That doesn’t make you stupid."

He let out a long sigh, his shoulders sinking as if he’d been carrying that thought for a while.

"It’s not that... I don’t know. You’re so smart, and I just keep messing things up all the time." His voice was lower now, almost like he was talking more to himself than to you.

You slid your hand over his, which rested on the steering wheel, and slowly intertwined your fingers, giving a firm squeeze.

"You’re sweet for ignoring my mistakes and not making fun of me," he murmured. "But sometimes, I feel like you’re just lying to make me feel better."

Without hesitation, you squeezed his hand tighter.

"Rodrick, I love you." Your voice was steady, leaving no room for doubt. "And that’s never going to change. Never let this make you feel less than you are."

Rodrick lifted his eyes slowly, like he was trying to fully absorb your words. A small, almost hesitant smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Then, without saying anything, he brought your hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss against it, closing his eyes for a moment.

He stayed like that for a while, just gently brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, as if he wanted to hold on to this moment forever.

"You know when I realized I was in love with you?" he asked, locking eyes with you.

"When?" You leaned in closer, curiosity shining in your gaze.

“When I asked if you wanted to see my dick and I said duck.” He beamed, intertwining your hands with his. “Seriously, you didn’t break the mood or anything, you just laughed and kept going. That was, like, the nicest thing anyone’s ever done to me.”

“It was kinda cute tho.” You smiled, playing with his hands. “The only thing cuter than when you saw a cat and said you were petting a pussy.”

"Oh, okay. You might as well run me over with a truck now."

He threw his hands up in an exaggerated gesture before covering his face with both palms, as if he wanted to disappear from existence.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter. A loud, uncontrollable laugh bubbled up from your chest, filling the van.

Rodrick froze for a second, narrowing his eyes as a dramatic sigh slipped from his lips. Slowly, he peeled his hands away from his face, the corners of his mouth twitching into a satisfied smirk.

"At least my epilepsy makes you laugh."

You rolled your eyes, still laughing, and tilted your head to the side, letting it rest against the seat.

"It's always good to see the bright side of things."

Rodrick watched you for a moment, his gaze softening. Then, he leaned in slowly, his hand trailing up to your face, cold fingers barely grazing your cheek before gently pulling you into a quick, but affectionate, kiss.

"Guess not everything about me is a disaster."

[demonic0angel]

Danny travels to Gotham to check out the university and to visit Jazz, when Shades starts approaching him, begging him, to kill a clown called Joker. Ever since Danny took down a GIW satellite that put Amity into a media black out and blocked their calls to the Justice League, Danny's been able to more easily look up information outside of what goes on in Amity Park. The Shades can feel the power Danny tries to keep hidden and can sense he's a protective spirit. Danny learns from the Shades that Batman refuses to kill even though the Joker has hurt him and his family, including killing the second Robin. Danny is conflicted since he knows that sometimes protecting means killing and that killing is wrong. Danny also has clown trauma, so maybe dragging the Joker to court in the Ghost Zone for a proper trial would work, especially since Gotham's a corrupt city. The next time Joker shows his face in Gotham, Danny is still in town by coincidence, Phantom appears before Joker's latest attack starts piling a body count and freezes him before hauling him to the infinite realms for trial. The Bats are stunned

(May I introduce you to this post?)

Tim leaned in close to Dick. “Shouldn’t we do something to help?”

“We don’t know what’s happening right now. And besides, Jason is up there with the king. We have to be careful,” Dick said carefully.

The Ghost King sat on his throne at the judge’s place, where two other guards stood near him, one wearing flowery motifs and the other looking like the Egyptian god Anubis. All three of them looked solemnly at the Joker, who was grinning like a loon as he sat in the defendant’s seat.

The courtroom they were in was crowded and bubbling with noise. Ghosts and monsters sat in the stands and jury. Dick was pretty sure he could recognize one of Tim’s Young Justice friends sitting amongst the jury, but he wasn’t too sure.

Multiple hero teams had also found their way inside of the Ghost Realm in order to be here for the Joker’s trial. Bruce sat next to them, stone faced and clenching his fists. Dick glanced at him but wasn’t able to say anything as the King then stood up, silencing the room.

“You have a choice,” the Ghost King said, addressing the Joker. “For this trial, we’ve decided to do something different for only one time. In this trial, you, the defendant, are allowed to choose the attorney for the plaintiff’s side. The plaintiffs are also able to choose the attorney for you.”

Immediately, multiple people from the audience stood up in protest.

Dick cried, “That’s not fair!”

He was immediately silenced by the Ghost King’s glare as the Joker’s smile widened. Dick ground his teeth together, about to speak up again, when Tim pulled him down.

“Shush, I think there’s a plan,” Tim said and Dick reluctantly sat back down, grimacing. He glanced in Jason’s direction, where he sat stiffly in a sea of victims. There were so many of them that they looked like another part of the audience, all pale faced and bloody, many of them crawling back from the gaping maw of the Dead to see Joker’s demise.

And now it was going to be ruined with this new random rule.

Dick had thought the Ghost King was fair and just, but had he been wrong?

The plaintiffs were allowed to choose the Joker’s attorney first, and they chose Impulse, who had been horrified to be chosen before he seemed to receive some sort of signal from Tim, because he then looked determined and sat in Joker’s space, although very far away.

“The person defending the plaintiffs’ case is Impulse, who’s last name is Allen, once Kid Flash, a hero within the team Young Justice,” the Ghost King announced.

There were some claps. Dick watched the proceedings nervously, almost wanting to throw up.

It was soon the Joker’s turn.

He hummed and his beady eyes scanned the room. He was still grinning when he zeroed in on a woman in the back.

Her red hair covered her face as she bent over her computer, trying to look small as she typed away. She was clearly some sort of court reporter and was keeping to herself, tucked into a corner.

Dick’s heart immediately dropped into his stomach.

“I choose her,” the Joker crooned and the crowd went silent, staring in horror.

The Ghost King said, “Are you sure?”

The Joker nodded, smirking.

There was silence as the plaintiffs immediately seemed to give up, some even bursting into tears.

The Ghost King, however, threw his head back and laughed loudly. He laughed so loudly and so humorously that it was almost funny, if not even more baffling. Even when looking at Bruce, he had no idea what was going on either. The room began to buzz again with confusion.

Finally, the Ghost King reached beneath his mask to wipe away a tear and called to the red haired woman, “Jazz! You’re up!”

She looked up and smiled. When she straightened and stood up, the room fell silent as she rose to her full height, smoothing down her pencil skirt as she tucked away her computer and chirped cheerfully, “Reporting for duty, Your Majesty.”

There was no worry or anxiety on her face. Instead, there was excitement in her eyes and smile as she walked down from where she had been sitting behind the throne to stand near the plaintiffs.

They too, fell silent, staring at her tall frame in awe. Dick was pretty sure he could see Jason’s jaw drop.

Which, real.

But the real shock was the Ghost King’s next words.

The Ghost King smiled as he gestured to the woman standing near the plaintiffs side. “May I introduce you to the person defending the plaintiffs’ case. Introducing Jazz Nightingale, sister of the Ghost King, the Attorney General of the Ghost Zone, a recent graduate of Yale University who graduated summa cum laude for both law and psychiatry, and former queen regent of the Infinite Realms.”

Jazz gave a wave and a small smile.

The Ghost King tipped his head at the Joker, whose smile fell off his face for the first time.

The volume inside of the room rose rapidly as everyone immediately burst into screams of either delight or shock. Dick wasn’t exempt from this either, gasping as his eyes widened. He stood up and planted his hands on the table in excitement, barely able to believe his eyes and ears. He was pretty sure Bruce and Tim were doing the same.

The Ghost King smirked as he gazed into the Joker’s terrified eyes.

“You’ve fucked up.”

[babsf1world]

FAULT LINE.

“So stay for the night, it’ll bury the crime.” — Your relationship ended, but neither of you seem to let go. It took you multiple nights to realize what’s it all about.

pairing. Lando Norris x fem! reader

warnings. angst, hurt/no comfort, mention of sexual activities, unhealthy ex relationship, Lando being dickhead and fuckboy, mention of cheating.

music. Siren Sounds by Tate Mcrae.

LN4 masterlist. // Main masterlist.

FROM THE START, you knew deep down that your relationship with Lando Norris was something of a modern tragedy, destined to unravel in chaos. There was an inevitability to it—a feeling you couldn't shake, no matter how many times you convinced yourself otherwise. Something about the two of you felt doomed, as if the universe itself had conspired to keep you apart.

How could he date someone like you? That question lingered in your mind more than you cared to admit, sowing tiny seeds of doubt that threatened to grow.

Everyone told you he was wrong for you. His party demeanor, his carefree lifestyle—none of it aligned with yours. You heard the whispers, the warnings, the concerned looks that came with every mention of his name. He wasn’t the type to settle down, they said. He wasn’t the type to treat you the way you deserved. But you didn’t want to believe them. You couldn’t, because to believe them would mean letting go of the image you had built of him in your mind.

For a while, you held onto hope, believing that perhaps your connection was different, special. You thought you saw sides of him that others didn’t, glimpses of vulnerability that he only showed to you. Maybe, just maybe, you could be the one to change him.

But hope has its limits, and reality eventually makes its way through even the most determined denial. At least you found out the truth—he cheated. The realization hit like a blow to the chest, knocking the wind out of you. You had seen the signs, of course. The late-night texts, the moments when he seemed distant, distracted. But you ignored them, telling yourself it was nothing, that he cared for you more than he let on.

When the truth came out, it shattered the fragile illusion you had been holding onto. You didn’t scream or cry, at least not in front of him. Instead, you stood there, numb, as he fumbled for excuses that you didn’t want to hear. The betrayal burned, the realization that you had ignored the warnings, pushed aside the doubts, only to end up here, heartbroken and questioning everything.

You knew from the beginning that it was destined to be a disaster. But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

For the first time in your life, you had done something purely for yourself. You had walked away from the chaos, from the heartbreak, from Lando Norris. It was liberating, empowering even. You told yourself you were done, that you were moving on, that you deserved better. But then, as if he could sense your newfound strength, Lando started to pull you back in.

It began with the texts—short, simple messages that carried far more weight than they should have. “I miss you,” he’d write, and you’d stare at the screen, torn between deleting the message and replying. Then came the calls, his voice on the other end of the line, soft and familiar, stirring emotions you thought you had buried. Sometimes, those calls ended with him at your doorstep, his presence filling the space you had tried so hard to make your own.

Even though you told yourself you were far from over him, the truth was undeniable. You loved him. Part of you hated him, too, for the pain he had caused, for the betrayal that had shattered your trust. But you couldn’t let him go. No matter how much you tried, no matter how many times you told yourself it was over, he had a hold on you that you couldn’t break.

If he wanted to be a casual fling, a “fuckbuddy,” as you bitterly called it in your mind, you’d let him. Because the thought of losing him again was unbearable. You’d rather have him in fragments than not at all. It was a tragic compromise, one that left you feeling hollow and conflicted, but it was the only way you knew how to keep him in your life.

Every time he came over, you told yourself it would be the last. You’d let him in, share a moment of intimacy, and then promise yourself you’d end it. But when he looked at you with those unforgettable eyes, when he smiled that devastating smile, all your resolve crumbled. He was your weakness, your addiction, and no matter how much you hated yourself for it, you couldn’t walk away.

“I have to go,” Lando said abruptly, his voice cutting through the stillness of the room. He was already moving, quickly getting up from the bed and gathering his clothes from the floor in a hurried, almost frantic manner. You lay there, still trying to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling as you watched him. The sight was all too familiar—him leaving, always leaving.

“Like always,” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes as you sat up and began to pull on your clothes. The words were laced with bitterness, but you didn’t bother to hide it. Why should you? This wasn’t the first time, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. He was always in a rush, always somewhere else to be, someone else to see.

There was no aftercare, no lingering moments of tenderness, no asking how you were doing. Nothing. It was as if the sex you just had evaporated the moment he decided it was time to leave. The bed still carried the warmth of his presence, but the room already felt colder, emptier.

You glanced at him as he pulled his shirt over his head, his movements quick and efficient, like he was checking off a task on a to-do list. He didn’t even look at you, didn’t notice the way your expression hardened, the way your hands trembled slightly as you buttoned your shirt.

This was the pattern, the routine you had come to expect. And yet, every time it happened, it stung just as much as the first. You told yourself you were fine with it, that you didn’t need more from him, but deep down, you knew that wasn’t true. You wanted more—more than hurried goodbyes and empty promises, more than being just another pitstop on his endless journey.

You followed him to the kitchen, your feet moving before your mind could decide why. There he was, standing by the counter, tossing his keys in his hand as if he couldn’t wait to leave. “See you later. I love you,” he said casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Every word of that sentence landed like a question in your head. See you later? Absolutely not. And I love you? Did he even mean it, or was it just something he said out of habit? It made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite put into words.

“Yeah, of course,” you snapped, cutting him off mid-departure. The edge in your voice was unmistakable, sharp enough to make him stop in his tracks. His hand froze on the doorknob, and he turned to face you, his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping closer, his voice softer now.

You crossed your arms, the tension in your body rising with every step he took toward you. Oh, so now he cares? you thought bitterly. It was ironic, really. When he was cold, distant, disappearing without a second thought, it was fine. He didn’t ask how you felt, didn’t stay long enough to notice. But now, when you mirrored that same detachment, it wasn’t okay. Now, he wanted answers.

“Nothing,” you shrugged casually, your tone as indifferent as you could muster. Right, nothing was wrong. Why was he even asking that? The question felt hollow, almost laughable, given the circumstances. You turned away slightly, avoiding his gaze, as if the act of looking at him might unravel the fragile composure you were clinging to.

“You know I love you,” he said, his voice soft but insistent, as though repeating the words would make them true. But for you, they were far from the truth. You didn’t know it. How could you? Love wasn’t supposed to feel like this—like a constant tug-of-war between hope and heartbreak, between wanting more and settling for less.

“You say that only because we fuck,” you reminded him, your voice sharp and cutting. The words hung heavy in the air, a brutal truth you couldn’t hold back any longer. You knew why he said those words, why he threw them out so casually. They weren’t rooted in love; they were a reflex, a way to keep you tethered to him. And you hated that you let them work.

He looked confused, his brows furrowing as he tried to process your accusation. “That’s not true,” he started, but his voice faltered, lacking conviction. You could see the cracks in his confidence, the way your words had shaken him. For once, he didn’t have a quick comeback, didn’t know how to charm his way out of the situation.

“That is true, Lando,” you said, your laugh tinged with sarcasm, the bitterness slipping through despite your best efforts to mask it. You wished—no, you longed—for his visits to be driven by love, by something deeper, something real. But you knew better. You knew why he was here, and it wasn’t for the reasons you wanted.

“You’re here only because you’re horny,” you sighed, the words heavy with resignation. You crossed your arms, trying to steady yourself, to stand your ground even as your heart wavered. The truth was out now, hanging in the air between you like a storm cloud. You watched his expression shift, the faint flicker of confusion crossing his face.

“And if you don’t remember,” you added, your voice firmer now, “we are broken up.” The words felt like a shield, a reminder to yourself as much as to him. You weren’t supposed to be doing this, letting him back into your life, into your bed, into your heart. But here you were, caught in the same cycle, trying desperately to break free.

Lando paused, his hand still resting on the edge of the counter. His brows furrowed slightly, as if he were trying to process what you had just said. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his tone defensive, almost incredulous. It was as though the idea of his intentions being questioned had never even crossed his mind.

You shook your head, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Don’t act like you don’t know,” you said, your voice quieter now but no less resolute. “You come here, you say the things you think I want to hear, and then you leave. It’s always the same.”

For some reason, he was quiet now. Maybe because, for once, you were telling the truth he couldn’t deny. The silence stretched, thick and oppressive, and it only fueled your frustration. “Oh my god, Lando!” you shouted, your voice breaking the stillness as you threw your hands in the air. “Why don’t you even try to defend yourself a bit?” Your words came out sharp and raw, laced with the bitterness of all the times he had made you feel small, unseen.

He flinched at your outburst, his gaze dropping to the floor, but his lips remained sealed for a long moment. Then, finally, he spoke. “I love you, Y/n, but it’s just not that simple.” His voice was low, almost pleading, as though he expected those words to be enough to fix the shattered pieces between you.

But they weren’t. Not anymore. You were done being nice, done bending over backward in desperation to keep something alive that was slowly killing you inside. You were done clinging to empty words and hollow promises. “Can you stop lying, Lando?” you shot back, your tone venomous, toxic in its delivery. “Can you stop lying for at least a second in your damn life?”

His head snapped up, his expression shifting between confusion and hurt. “I’m not lying,” he said quietly, but you didn’t believe him. Not a single word. His declarations of love felt cheap, as fleeting as the visits where he left you feeling more broken than before.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself for what you were about to say. The words came unfiltered, raw, and unrestrained. “I’m done,” you said, your voice firm and unwavering. “I’m done with this shit. I’m done with you.” The weight of your declaration hung heavy in the air, and for the first time, you felt a sense of clarity, as though the fog of confusion and heartbreak had finally lifted.

“What do you mean?” Lando asked, his expression shifting to one of disbelief. It was almost comical, the way he looked at you now, as if he didn’t understand English anymore. His confusion only fueled your anger, the fire burning hotter with every second he stood there, pretending not to know.

“Get off of my fucking eyes, that’s what I mean,” you snapped, your voice sharp and cutting. You wouldn’t beg again, wouldn’t plead for him to stay or try to fix what was already broken beyond repair. You were done being the one who cared more, who tried harder, who sacrificed everything for someone who gave so little in return. “You ruined everything,” you added, the words spilling out like a final blow.

“But I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said, his tone soft, almost pleading. No way. Was he joking now? The audacity of his words made your blood boil. How could he stand there, after everything he had done, and say something so utterly meaningless?

“You should have thought of that before you cheated, asshole,” you shot back, your voice dripping with venom. The truth was out now, and there was no taking it back. You weren’t holding anything in anymore, weren’t sugarcoating your pain to make him feel better. He deserved to hear it, every word, every ounce of anger and betrayal you had bottled up for far too long.

“Get out,” you said, your voice firm and steady as you pointed at the door. The finality in your tone echoed in the room, leaving no space for negotiation. Lando froze, his hand still resting by his side, as his eyes locked onto yours one last time. Those green eyes—piercing, unforgettable, the ones that had once undone you every time—met your gaze, pleading silently for a chance. But this time, you felt none of the pull that had always kept you tethered to him. This time, you resisted.

“No, just let me explain—” he began, his voice desperate, his words rushed as if he could fix everything if he only spoke fast enough. But you wouldn’t let him. You wouldn’t let him use his excuses or empty promises to worm his way back into your life.

“Get out before I call the police,” you interrupted, your voice cutting through his plea like a knife. Your words carried an unmistakable edge, final and unyielding, daring him to challenge you. You stood your ground, your hand still pointing toward the door, your expression resolute. You weren’t going to beg anymore, nor would you let yourself fall for his attempts to salvage what was already irreparably broken.

Lando hesitated, his expression shifting from desperation to something unreadable. For a moment, it seemed as though he might protest, try one more time to explain, to reason with you. But the weight of your command—the realization that you wouldn’t bend this time—settled over him, and he finally relented. Without another word, he turned away, his movements stiff and mechanical, like he was forcing himself to leave.

The sound of the door opening and closing echoed through the room, marking his departure with a harsh finality. You stood still for a moment, staring at the empty space where he had been, your chest tight with a mixture of relief and lingering pain. You had done it—made him leave, chosen yourself for once. But the victory felt bittersweet, as if closing this chapter had come at a cost you weren’t yet ready to fully comprehend.

The room was quiet now, but the silence felt different. It wasn’t suffocating, wasn’t filled with the tension of unspoken words. It was lighter, freer, and for the first time, you felt like you could breathe. You exhaled slowly, letting the weight of him, of everything he had put you through, begin to slip away.

You were alone now, but it didn’t feel like a loss. It felt like the start of something new—something that was yours, something that didn’t revolve around him anymore.