#//HE DESERVES TO BE LOVED AND ACCEPTED!!!!

[gifsbysimplysonia]

Hola. Long rambling feedback behind the cut as well as

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

I think this is so beautiful. Anyone who is a creative knows how difficult it can be to find a muse. So for this person to inspire a twitch in Logan after YEARS? That's just a very beautiful thing.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him.  Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring. 

And this is for BOTH 1) thinking it's not ok to be into art??? OK BUT CAVEMEN CARVED INTO WALLS, SIR and 2) "you're nothing if not inspiring" *screamingggggggggggggggggggg*

The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises.  Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing. 

I love that this fits with the Logan I know, the demand on self for perfectionism and the refusal to accept anything but. But it's especially important cuz he wants to do right by YOU/HER. *swoon*

And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more. 

Sigh. Oh Logan. Always thinking he's not worthy while he holds everyone he cares about up on pedestals. I both adore him and wanna shake him for these habits.

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He gets Rogue to show him Instagram for reference photos. HOW CUTE!

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite. 

This is soooooooooooooooo beautiful. It is just a loud beacon of what Logan's heart really is. It's also really precious that he finally produces a drawing of her that he's satisfied with which then produces ANGST in him. Cuz he can't leave it out cuz what if people see? But he doesn't want to hide it cuz what if it smudges? Watching him go back and forth about it and the STRESS shows how much it means to him not to mess it up but ALSO, I think, how much it means to him to be back drawing. As a creative who goes through the longest dry patches, when a period of productivity comes up? OH DO I WANT TO HANG ONTO IT. And probably try so hard that I make it slip through my fingers.

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again.  He could give it to you. 

DO IT LOGANNNNNNNN!

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing? 

YOU care, sir! And people who love you will SEE that and care too!!! Don't we all wish he valued himself and his opinions more.

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him.

It's so precious to me, how relatable this is. Anyone who is a creative can relate, I'm sure. How nervous creatives are before they publish or they post or they even just share with someone they are close to. I wanna hug him.

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it.  Sappy motherfucker. 

Some day, someone needs to tell him he can give himself permission to BE sappy. Corny is part of life and it's a blessing.

He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door.  So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart.  It’s soo stupid. 

It's annoying to read Logan's antiquated views on masculinity here. Completely understand that it fits with his character and how he has aged and evolved but omggggggggggg, it's just frustrating lol

You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

The way we can convince ourselves of the worst possible outcome, eh? *smh*

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing.  You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.” 

SHE IMMEDIATELY TREATED IT AS SOMETHING PRECIOUS!!! SHE WANTED TO PROTECT IT JUST LIKE LOGAN WANTED TO PROTECT IT!!! BUT SHE LOVES IT TO THE POINT SHE MADE HERSELF A COPY TO CARRY IT AROUND WITH HER AT ALL TIMES!!!!!

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that.  But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?”  You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

To see the similarities in how they DON'T see themselves fully is kind of sweet and makes me root for them.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.”  The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created. 

He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing. 

This is HILARIOUS and KILLING ME because I also make rules for MYSELF that are different from the rules I have for EVERYONE ELSE lmao

He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy. 

Logan being an Acts of Service person makes ALL the sense in the world to me.

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end. 

The curse of the sequel! I think a lot of creatives can relate to this type of self induced pressure which means nothing you produce is good enough.

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.” He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

She already has a frame for the new drawing cuz the frames came in packs of 2 and she will NOT STAND for someone not absolutely FAWNING over it and I love that from her. It's doing Logan's heart SO good to see how much she adores what he's created.

If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you. Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

Our man is S-M-I-T-T-E-N and I love that for him. Cuz look what it's brought back into his life?

“I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it. “No one else knows.” You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

This is so intimate. And he's finally comfortable all the way with her. She knows it's him and he's fine with her knowing it's him.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

I appreciate that Logan is just the tiniest bit "selfish" here because this has been such an emotionally taxing ordeal for him. And she really really admires his talent and is THRILLED that it's him and that he sees her the way that he does.

From here the story slips into the Rated R portion of the story which is both hot and very sweet. The buildup means that I feel a genuine connection and intimacy between the 2 that feels "earned," if that's the right word. Cuz it doesn't feel forced or rushed or like we skipped a whole bunch of stuff to get here.

I also love that there's open dialogue. Often, the only talk between lovers is dirty - which I am a big fan of and absolutely fine with - but that here we have sweet confessions, constant check ins, and reassurances; these all fit with the journey we've been on with these two and I just really enjoy that aspect.

There's also good dirty talk, balanced give and take and praaaaaaaaaaaaise which I enjoy thoroughly. Logan also tends to take the possessive "my girl" over and over which just melts my butter!

@selfcarecap thank you so much for creating and sharing this! Thank you for following YOUR muse through to the end of this tale and then being brave enough to slip it under all our doors *bad dum tss* I really loved this look at Logan, his vulnerabilities, his abilities and desires beyond his powers / "job" and what allowing himself to create ultimately gifted him with. Well done smut that I also very much enjoyed too.

And thank you to K for putting it on my dash!

MUSE [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them. 

warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)

word count: 7.3k

also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism

It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him. 

Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring. 

He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises. 

Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing. 

He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more. 

But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.

So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model. 

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it. 

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite. 

He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it? 

But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead? 

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again. 

He could give it to you. 

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing? 

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside. 

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it. 

Sappy motherfucker. 

He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep. 

He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse. 

You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks. 

He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you. 

He wakes up with morning wood. 

Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.

He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door. 

So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart. 

It’s soo stupid. 

He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps. 

He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you. 

Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again. 

He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself. 

It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist? 

He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him. 

He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

-

He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw. 

“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone. 

At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw? 

Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it. 

“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it. 

“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.” 

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing. 

“Did you draw it?” He asks. 

You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.” 

“Secret admirer?” 

Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.” 

“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended. 

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that. 

But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?” 

You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.” 

Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all. 

The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created. 

-

After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven. 

It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing. 

This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy. 

He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect. 

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end. 

It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?). 

He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time. 

He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.

Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.

Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.

“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him? 

“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”

He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.

“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.

“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.

Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”

He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”

Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.

Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

-

He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.

It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know. 

“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”

You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.

Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight. 

But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.

Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.

It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.

Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.

Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.

Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.

He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.

Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid. 

He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.

Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.

“Logan?”

He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.

You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.

He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”

“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.

He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say. 

This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.

You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that). 

He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile. 

This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh. 

You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him. 

It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone. 

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears. 

“You drew this?” you ask.

He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is. 

Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.

You’re kissing him. 

You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his. 

He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long. 

He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better. 

Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access. 

His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide. 

You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged. 

“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead. 

“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.

You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.

“No one else knows.”

You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”

“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”

Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”

You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.

“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”

“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.

Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.

“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.

“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”

You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”

You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”

Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.

You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”

He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.

“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.

Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath. 

“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.

Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”

You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.

“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.

You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.

“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.

“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.

Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.

“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.

You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.

“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.

Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.

You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”

Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.

He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.

You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself. 

You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.

“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.

“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.

“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”

You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”

Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”

You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.

“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.

“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.

“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”

You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.

“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.

“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.

He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. 

You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.

And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.

“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”

You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.

“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.

Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.

“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.

You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.

“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”

You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.

He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.

“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.

“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”

Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.

You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.

You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still. 

You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”

Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.

“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”

“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.

“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”

You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.

“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.

“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”

“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”

You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head. 

You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while. 

Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”

“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.

“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”

“I love your drawings so much.”

Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”

You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is. 

For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

“I’m already yours.”

Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33

gorgeous divider by @pommecita

[theriu]

I have grace on my mind tonight. Specifically, how misunderstood it is, and how that misunderstanding muddies up conversation with others about Jesus.

Something I learned some years ago, as I got to know some excellent LDS friends, is that in the LDS belief system, grace is seen kind of like a ladder. Jesus died for us to give us that ladder, and we have to climb our way up it. Basically, your own works, your own goodness, is still required for you to get the ultimate reward from God.

And honestly, I know a lot of Christians believe something like this, too. That, sure, Jesus saved us by His grace, but you still have to be GOOD ENOUGH to "earn" salvation.

But the truth is that the actual Grace Jesus taught isn't like that at all. Grace isn't like a ladder extended down to you - grace is Jesus's own hand. He's reaching it down to us, offering it, asking us to grab hold. We have to choose to take it - we have to grasp that hand (accept His forgiveness, accept His Kingship, accept that he is not A god or A son of God but GOD HIMSELF, who paid the price of death that our sins deserve).

But when you grab His hand, You know what He does?

He grabs you back. He lifts you out of the muck and mire. HE does all the work. He holds you TIGHT. NOTHING can wrest you from His grip.

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38-39)

If it were at all possible for a human to work their way to God, to earn salvation, Jesus would not have had to sacrifice Himself for us. He didn't humble himself by becoming a human, live a sinless life, and die a gruesome, unjust death so we would keep killing ourselves trying to reach perfection on our own. No good deed can cancel out a sin, just like giving money to charity can't undo a murder. Only when someone pays the price for sin can it be absolved - and the price for sin is death. By being fully man yet fully God, by living a sinless life that did not earn the death penalty, Jesus was able to pay the price FOR us.

We still need to repent - we need to turn away from our sin, admit we need help, admit we need forgiveness and mercy (the inverse of grace, where we DON'T recieve the consequences we DO deserve). And when we do accept Jesus, HE helps us change and become better versions of ourselves. The good works are an outcome of salvation, not the payment for it. We do have to put effort in because our bodies and minds still struggle with sinful habits, but He is helping us, and the intent is to grow closer to and more like Him - not to earn His love.

When it comes to salvation, Jesus did all the work already. Please grab His hand and hold on tight - it will likely be a bumpy ride through this life. But I promise you, He won't let go once you put your hand in His.

(If anyone would like prayer or to ask a question, I'm open. Praying you have a blessed night, wherever you are.)

[littlcdarlin]

dbf!Joel headcanons

warnings: big, though unspecified age gap, 18+ (as always)

note: Uni has been kicking my ass, so I’ve only had time for some headcanons lately. This Joel is very sweet, but I’m open to writing sleazy or dark Joel, too! If you have requests for any headcanons, I will be able to write them even during this stressful time. Full fics will take me a while longer. Enjoy reading, my loves <3 and feel free to add stuff!

He doesn’t really know how to cook well and mostly eats his faves every day but when you stay over more and more he makes an effort to learn and actually finds out he really likes it

Whatever pressure your parents put on you, he relieves it by accepting it rather than trying to fix it for you — you can just exist around him without expectation

He worries the age difference means you don’t have much to talk about, so he watches your favourite show that you mentioned and although it certainly wouldn’t have been his first pick, it lets him unwind. He likes watching something he knows you’ve watched and loved when you’re not around, it makes him feel closer to you

When he first starts looking at you differently he blue balls himself so as not to disrespect you — when he has sex with someone to relieve himself, he accidentally says your name to them

He keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet and cashiers wonder why he smiles at his debit card so much

He finds it hard to stay friends with your dad, because it makes him feel weird about this dynamic with you. He distances himself from your parents after they react badly to the news of your relationship, not because of guilt or cowardice, but because he doesn’t tolerate how they treat you

He thought he would hate the gossip after the two of you go public, but when you do, he finds himself imagining knocking you up just so everyone knows what he does to you. He opts for lots of hickeys until kids might be a possibility, but that doesn’t stop him from pretending you don’t have an IUD when he finishes inside of you

He loves when you wear his clothes, but when you forget your scarf at his place he wears it and enjoys that just as much — it smells like you and he likes the idea of people being able to tell it’s somebody else’s

When he figures out how much you like him talking to you during sex, he starts using the same voice/phrases in public to get you flustered & wet for him

He keeps everything that reminds him of you, like parking tickets etc. He doesn’t do anything with those things, doesn’t put them in a box, so they linger around his house, reminding him of you the way photographs would, except more privately

He starts “putting in an effort” for you when you start dating: styling his hair & wearing clothes he thinks you would prefer, until you tell him you like nothing more than his flannels and band tees and jeans, and although he doesn’t tell you, he’s beyond relieved. He realises you like him for him

When you tell your parents, Joel asks your father to hit him because “he knows he deserves it”. With time he learns he also deserves your kisses and smiles. Those things coexist within him, he thinks both are true

Despite completely supporting you in your pursuit of a degree & career, he likes when you’re on holiday, waiting around for him in his house wearing nothing but a pair of panties he bought for you & one of his hoodies. During those lazy weeks, he fucks you morning, afternoon, and night: before he leaves, when he gets home, and right before you go to sleep

He buys you a ring during the first week of dating because you mentioned how much you like it. He doesn’t give it to you until he knows you feel certain about him — he doesn’t want to freak you out. Still, even before that, he sometimes looks at it in its little black box and envisions it on your finger

During your first couple of “public dates” (neighbourhood barbecue where your parents are present etc.) he refrains from touching you much, although everyone knows about your relationship. You have to take his hand and initiate small touches for him to feel more comfortable

It takes him a short while, but then he loves being able to touch you in front of people: a hand on your lower back, an arm across your shoulder, his fingers lacing through yours, him pulling your back against his front and wrapping his arms around you. People stare sometimes (your Dad breaks one or two wine glasses in his hand), but Joel stops caring when he sees how happy it makes you

He tells you that you can change things about his home, that it should feel like your place, too and asks if you want to go shopping for “candles and stuff”, but you love being in a space that feels completely like him. It’s not how your apartment looks, but it makes you feel at ease, like you’re somehow living inside of him

Before he tells you he loves you, he whispers it in your ear when you’re sleeping, hoping your subconscious will somehow pick up on it. When he does tell you while you’re awake for the first time, it’s during breakfast. You stub your toe, and let out a string of curses you must have picked up on from him, and while he presses ice against your foot, kneeling in front of you, he smiles up and tells you: I love you.

The first time you sleep over at his house after he spent the night in your apartment, two brand new bottles of the shampoo and conditioner you use are in his shower. You thank him and jokingly ask why he didn’t buy your shower gel, too. He kisses you and tells you he likes when you smell like him.

He likes making you come more times than you thought you could — something about moving in and out of you while you tell him you can’t do it again, that you’re done, and then watching you fall apart on his cock anyway, thrills him to the bone. It makes him feel powerful, but part of it is knowing you let him fuck you without expecting an orgasm, that him being inside of you is enough for you to feel good

He doesn’t tell you, but he adds your name to his car insurance, so that you can drive it whenever you want

When you figure it out you give him road head every time the two of you drive somewhere — until he almost crashes the car and he forbids you to tempt him while he’s behind the wheel

He’s so nervous he asks Tommy for help when picking out a birthday gift for you — Tommy goes overboard and the gift turns out to be something completely ridiculous like a pair of huge earrings you would never wear. You tell Joel you don’t need a big fuss to feel loved by him. At night, he gives you a present he’s been wanting to give you for a while: he plays you a song he wrote for you on his guitar. It’s quiet and simple and so perfect you cry for half an hour

He doesn’t sleep well when you’re not around, and loves being close to you at night. If he could, he’d sleep nestled inside of you after a round of lazy midnight sex every night

As much as Tommy annoys him, it makes him happy to see how well you two get along. When you become actual friends with Tommy and hang out with him on your own, he’s more than pleased: the two people he loves the most in the world have become close

He would never ask it of you, but when you tell him you have stopped masturbating because he fucks you so often, it pleases him deeply. He likes being the only source of your pleasure. When you are apart for a while because of work/collage etc., he buys you a toy he can control from his phone

He tells Tommy he thinks he’s going to marry you during the first month of dating, which you find out about only on your wedding day during Tommy’s speech

[girl4music]

What I think is really neat is the reason why Glinda picks on Elphaba isn’t because of her skin colour being green at all, but because Madam Morrible chose her over her.

She makes a pretence about it being about her skin colour because she doesn’t want it to reflect on her perceived failure at being special to Shiz enough that the Wizard would take the time to notice her the way he does with Elphaba for her magic abilities - and then as soon as they’re best friends - Glinda immediately just gives up that whole rouse and is just like: “actually, she deserves it over me” because - in her own way - Glinda feels outcast too and she compensates for it by being the most popular. But through their friendship, she learns to accept herself just as much as she learns to accept Elphaba. She learns to accept being no one special. Un-extraordinary. But instead a real support system to someone that is what she will never ever be.

She’s humbled by her experiences with Elphaba.

And it makes her a very beautiful person too. That’s the reason why her magic grows beyond her capacity for it.

Her magic is in healing, in supporting - in loving. But in order for her to reach this potential, she had to look beyond and outside of herself. Outside of her bubble.

In a sense: she can do so much for “the little people”when she doesn’t see herself as being above them.

What makes Glinda the Good is not her popularity or her vanity - but her need to relate to others for other’s sake. When her unconditional love for them is as bright and blinding as her physical beauty. This is her power.

In that scene where she tells Elphaba that she is beautiful just as she is, she glows in reflection too.

It’s because for seemingly the first time - she’s put inner beauty above outer beauty. It’s very attractive.

Elphaba teaches Glinda - without realizing it I have to add - that beauty is not skin deep. Beauty is within.

Glinda only becomes such a powerful force for Good because she’s learned to accept in herself what she once believed was not just as much as she has others.

Putting herself on the same level propelled her higher. It’s not because she already had that high position in her society. Likewise it’s not because anyone else was below her. She had to earn the right to be that high up by understanding what it took for someone to fall down.

That’s the overall message of WICKED.

It’s not about being Good or Evil.

But what it takes to get there.

And what is lost from it.

That’s why I love that it’s not a success story. It’s not supposed to be. It’s supposed to be a representation and reflection of hardship and failure and weakness.

But within that - how the attempt is still very notable when things are sent to try us, defame us, oppress us.

Stories like that are hard to come by because success/victory is just far more appealing and entertaining than the opposite is. But I’ve never been interested in what was appealing or entertaining. Only in what educates.

thinking about how the best case scenario that elphaba can imagine in the wizard and i is that finally someone will come along who will be able to change everything about her. even in her wildest dreams, she views that as her best option.

and then.

along comes galinda. who - after spending an entire night attempting to give her a makeover - settles on: ‘actually, you’re perfect just the way you are. i wouldn’t change a thing. except maybe to tuck a little piece of myself in with you, just there.’

and i just think that’s neat.

[astralspen]

Something amazing about In Stars and Time is how it makes you feel what Siffrin feels.

And yes, when you go through Act 5 and everything breaks down that's cool.

But when Siffrin feels loved and safe, I think that's what's special. That's what makes this game and these characters so special to me.

As someone who, too, had a similar feeling of feeling unlovable for a very long time. This game really healed that part of me.

When the timeloops start, and Siffrin clings to being useful, you still feel little bits of love. Small, barely there, a little distanced, because Siffrin feels distanced. But it's still there. The party looks out for you, pays attention to you, makes stupid jokes with you.

As you go through, you feel love through Loop. Loop who despite all the teasing and bullying helps. Helps the person who they so wish they could be. The one who holds their own heart, who has the family they lost. Loop reaches out to you, reminds you, you're here, I see you. It hurts, but I see you. And I will always see you and sit with you. And I will keep you from becoming as detached as I did, whether that be by annoying you or having a heart to heart or just yapping in general.

You feel love from the head housemaiden. That cruel kind as she weeps for your situation, and crys tears you can not. As she apologizes over and over again. Euphrasies loves by showing you the painful kind of mercy, the one that stabs you in your heart and makes you want to scream, because she loves through pity. Through pitying you and your suffering. No matter how much it hurts it is love nonetheless.

And finally, in the end, after everything you've done, after everything you went through. You feel love again. This time in your face, so burning and bright that you can not ignore it, you feel loved from the very people you loved from the start. The party who runs in to save you, despite everything you said. Who tells you it's ok, you were going insane, we may be a little mad at what you said, but in the end that doesn't matter. Because we love you. And man, when they really showed the unconditional love, I was going to cry. Because a love like that, especially one with the party, is so hard to find. And it's so precious.

Finally, you see love, one more time. Twohats. The Loop fight. Loop, who is trying to kill you, Loop who is so jealous because that is the love they so wanted. They want their family back. Loop who despite everything. They still can't kill Siffrin. Siffrin, who despite being forced to fight again, who could drop dead at any moment because of his craft exhaustion, refuses to oblige Loops request. They both refuse to kill. Because they still love each other. Siffrin who pulls Loop into a hug, and apologizes. Apologizes to who they once were, the Siffrin who should've gotten this. The one who had their family and their heart stolen from them. The Siffrin who never got to feel love. He thanks who they are now, Loop. For sticking with them despite everything. Who watched Siffrin, guided them, gave them a shoulder to cry on, bantered with them so Siffrin did not lose himself. Who despite everything, still decided to help. Siffrin isn't mad at Loop, because Siffrin knows, he would do the same. Siffrin gives Loop back all the love they gave. He let's Loop move on, knowing they're loved. That they always have been. Loop accepts that their family is gone, that they loved them all the same. They learn that even with them gone, they were still loved. Loop is allowed to be happy as they leave.

And isn't that just what this game is about? That no matter what, everyone deserves to be loved. To know it too, and to be happy. And that's what healed me a bit. Because if even the King, who spent his days weeping for a kingdom long gone, who lost all his family and could not build a new one, who froze everything in time, was still able to know and remember the love he had in the end, then why can't I? Why can't anyone? If even the ones who hated and cried and destroyed everything, the ones who hid it all until they couldn't, who didn't understand their emotions and felt trapped within a construct, who didn't feel like them no matter how much they changed, then can't we, too, love and be loved?

This game shows that love does not have to be romantic, does not have to be displayed in any way, is not something earned, but is a basic right for all of us. And for that, I thank it.

[gayofthefae]

Thinking about him tonight

Thinking about him when he knew everything he wanted and it was all in reach.

[joyfulsolavellan]

I have been thinking more about this and I am actually convinced now that Solas would absolutely have a religious experience with Lavellan in the Fade.

This is the woman who has defeated all the odds, on many occasions, but through it all she’s the one person who showed Solas there was more to this world than what he thinks is his duty. He thought he was stronger, he thought he could just go through it all on his own, he thought he had to abandon the desire to love someone else because of his regrets…

So when they step into the fade, my head canon is that he will be overwhelmed.

And in a completely fantasy-like way, she wouldn’t initially appear to him the way we expect her to. I think her energy would envelop the area around them, the light radiating so much, it would almost blind Solas. He’d call out to her, as anxiety and fear would envelop him that she didn’t actually step through the barrier.

And then in a few moments, the outline of her body would appear to him as she stepped closer. He would feel her through all of his senses, the heat emanating from her, the light surrounding her, the wisps circling around her. When he once said that she changed everything, he didn’t realize the extent of what her love could do to him and the world.

Vhenan would gain a different meaning that day.

That day he would believe in a god himself. Because she deserved that title. And because she held that much power over him and he gladly accepted it.

Didn’t Cole say that Lavellan/Inquisitor blazed so bright in the fade?

So when she goes to the prison with Solas, is she still blazing as bright? Will Solas, instead of being faced with the grimness of the prison, be overwhelmed by the light and warmth that’s coming from her? Will that instantly change how he feels? Will he feel the rush of hope and love and joy? Will they both change the nature of the prison and the fade world? Will he have a religious experience himself when he looks at her and there she is, smiling gently at him, eyes full of love and forgiveness. With a metaphorical (but perhaps also literal) halo around her.

His Savior.

[starbylers]

How much of “El” was actually in Will’s van speech, why this scene does NOT point to him letting Mike go, and what we actually know about Will's arc/Byler because of it

I know everyone jokes about the Will crying in the van shot so we sometimes forget how serious of a moment that was but like…..he was devastated. It’s always bothered me when people act as though this scene was about El in any genuine way, and that the message to take away is that Will is accepting Mike and El love each other and starting to move on. Both of these things couldn’t be further from the truth, they’re just convenient interpretations to fit a certain narrative.

In reality, Will assumed what El feels because he loves Mike, and that’s how he feels. There was no conversation between him & El, nothing Will ever witnessed, for him to determine that Mike "makes her feel like she’s better for being different”, that that helps her "fight". It’s what El wanted to feel from Mike, but she clearly didn’t (“You think I’m a monster too”). We never see Mike uplift her for her differences throughout the entire time they're dating, and then in s4 El gets a plot about feeling like she doesn't fit in (“I am different”) and actively lies to Mike about it ??? So...when exactly does Mike make her feel like she's "not a mistake at all"? El doesn't even feel safe giving him the opportunity, in fact she actively refuses to repeatedly: lying in her letters, asking Angela to lie to Mike at the rink, in their fight when he tries to understand & she tells him he doesn't. (And then when he tries in the monologue to use the sentiment “I love you for exactly who you are” etc.…she loses.)

And aside from that, explaining the painting and its meaning was the most blatant lie we see Will tell, and that’s all him. El didn't say all these wonderful things she loves about Mike, didn't create a gift inspired by something personal to Mike (DnD) to emphasise that message. Those were Will’s thoughts and feelings, unquestionably. There is nothing to suggest that El perceives Mike in that way ("the heart", "guiding the party, inspiring us", "without [you] we'd all fall apart"), that she understands Mike and knows exactly what to say to make him feel important, special and needed, that she loves him the way Will loves him (which just coincidentally happens to encompass exactly what Mike needs to hear to soothe his insecurities (“I’m just some random nerd” etc.)). And frankly even if we pretend El thinks the exact same things, Will was the one who did the work to make Mike happy. The idea that El should be able to coast on the efforts of someone else because "well she obviously feels the same way" (where ???) is kind of disturbing. Mike deserves better, and it makes no sense that the writers would narratively reward a love interest who put no effort into showing how much Mike is valued vs one who went above and beyond to make him feel loved.

That speech only applied to El insofar as Will sprinkles in "these past months she's been lost without you", "she's so different from other people", "we'd all fall apart, even El, especially El" and "if she was mean to you/seemed like she was pushing you away". Not because El said any of this, but because it's plausible for Will to come to these conclusions on his own and think he's correct (and even be partially correct). He knows El was doing awful in Lenora because she is different, he knows she's part of the group and has experienced Mike's leadership, he knows she fought with Mike and then left him. All of these things also affect him - he missed Mike's friendship while they were separated, he's different because of his sexuality, he's part of the group too, he "sabotaged" the day in Mike's eyes after not reaching out much and we know he's scared of losing Mike due to his feelings.

But the rest? "Of course she needs you Mike, she'll always need you", "You make her feel like she's not a mistake, like she's better for being different and that gives her the courage to fight", "if she [...] was pushing you away, it's just because she's scared of losing you" (I do think that one's partially true but Will wouldn't know beyond a guess), “if she was gonna lose you I think she’d want to get it over with quick", "El needs you and she always will” (and of course "El commissioned it" and the compliments he gives after)...who is Will to make those claims? He doesn't know how El feels, he didn't even know El was lying to Mike, she clearly doesn't confide in Will about her relationship. No, these things are all Will guessing/outright lying and letting his own feelings slip through. And just in general outside of Will, El hasn’t done/said anything elsewhere in the show to confirm that she feels any of this (in fact it was de-confirmed, in the case of the “better for being different” stuff).

Essentially, it’s all just Will's assumptions about El, some of which are based in reality and some of which are Will projecting. But most importantly, the reassurance and comfort he gives (the painting stuff) in response to Mike talking disparagingly about himself are Will and no-one else, and part of the most blatant lie he tells (“she told me what to draw [...] your coat of arms, it's a heart [...] without heart we'd fall apart”) is specifically what is called back to to push Mike into confessing!

Now, the idea of Will "accepting the reality" of Mike loving El is so ridiculously irrelevant. Will was heartbroken after he did what he did, this boy was literally sobbing out the window, but the whole reason he does is because he fully 100% believes Mike loves El. He knows, people! He spends the entire season giving Mike advice and pushing him towards her. Why would Will need to "accept" something he's been actively supporting before and during this scene? In his mind it's fully unrequited and he's operating within that reality in the most selfless, helpful, unobstructive way! He's not in denial, he has no hope.

What they really mean is he needs to move on and that this scene is somehow an indication that he is, but again, no: "[I] need you, and [I] always will" is Will's final projection before he cries his eyes out, and then later on we see him miserably staring at them again. The fact is, Will has accepted his "reality", that just didn't lead to him getting over Mike. No, it led to him sacrificing something he poured his heart into to save Mike’s relationship because he thinks that what will make Mike happy is to be with El, so he's making that happen. He is a bigger M!leven shipper than anyone. He still loves Mike, shows no signs of letting go, but he's just that selfless. And it's perfect, because no amount of knowing Mike loves El seems to change how much Will loves Mike. Incredibly inconvenient for a "plot" that relies on the gay character’s silly feelings magically disappearing out of reverence for a het couple and their deep soulmate love……

But this is why some people try to invent an imaginary arc where Will was somehow trying to get in the way of M!leven/had hope Mike could feel the same way, because otherwise you just get: Will likes Mike, knows it's hopeless, and then it randomly fizzles out lmao. Everyone knows that's not an arc; there's no change, no development, nothing learned. Plus, if Will is already in full acceptance of M!leven endgame…what’s next seaon's alleged rejection going to do/change? Nothing, Will’s feelings aren’t dependent on Mike reciprocating as has been shown, so the only purpose would be rubbing salt in the wound. And again, you end up with not an arc but a flat, depressing line. Will likes Mike, knows it's hopeless, has it painfully reaffirmed that yes it is hopeless, and then fizzle. If you know stories you know this makes zero sense, and therefore is not happening 👍

[seokmn]

EXPIRATION DATE .𖥔 ݁ ˖

pairing: seokmin x gn!reader wc: 1k words warnings: pure highschool fluff, reader reassures seokmin

“i want to stay with these feelings forever”

the night sky was beautiful, with no clouds to be seen, but countless stars to guide lost people. the night breeze hit your bodies, which caught seokmin’s attention to you, noticing how you were slightly shaking.

“told you to bring a jacket,” he said softly and took off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders instead. “here, youll start to feel warm soon.”

seokmin wrapped his arm around you and brought you closer to him, as if he wanted to transfer some of his warmth to you. his hand started to rub against your covered arm in a soothing way.

you turned your head to look at him, hoping you were going to find him looking at you as well, but he was looking at the sky with a small smile on his face. you thought youd be a bit upset with him not looking at you, but instead you felt your heart skip a beat when your eyes landed on his side profile. his eyes moving as he mentally tried to look at all of the stars on display for him, his small smile giving you the feeling of being at home.

when he finally looked at you, you swore there were actual butterflies in your stomach. his smile grew a little and you smiled at him without realizing. “enjoying the night?” you nodded, still fascinated with his face. you couldn’t help but think to yourself how could someone be not only the most handsome guy in this entire world, but also the most kind and heartwarming human being ever?

“what is it?” he touched the tip of your nose. “cat got your tongue?” you could feel your cheeks heating up, you let out a small giggle and shook your head. “no, im just enjoying the view. its breathtaking.”

seokmin chuckled and looked up. “it really is.”

oh silly seokmin, only if he knew you were talking about him. to you, nothing could beat seokmin's beauty, not a sunset by the beach, not a sunny morning, or even a night sky full of stars and full moon.

he turned his gaze towards you again and placed his hand that was on your arm to the back of your head, caressing it with the lightest touch ever. “i see you in my future,” he chuckled. “ah, maybe i shouldn’t have said that. i think i’m going too fast.”

“i see you in my future as well,” you said without any hesitation and you could swear you saw seokmin’s eyes grow bigger for a couple seconds before they became almost too small because of the bright heart shaped grin he gave you. “im not sure what i will do after graduation. i’m not sure about basically anything when it comes to my future, all i can say with 100% certainty is that i see you there.”

he sighed happily and looked back up, but not without taking your hand in his before. “how long do you think these emotions will last?” you tilted your head as you saw his smile faltering. “what do you mean?”

“i mean, for how long will we be in love with each other and what will happen when that passion dies?” the vulnerability and fear were clear in his voice, which got quieter than before in each word that came out of his mouth. he slowly looked back at you, his eyes running through your face as if he wanted to capture it in your mind so he could never forget how you look.

seokmin is a hopeless romantic, but being in love with someone can only take two turns: a happy and long life with the person you fell in love with or a terrible heartbreak. being in love and admitting it means showing the person the most vulnerable side of yours, not knowing what they will do about it and only hoping that they will accept you with open arms and love you in the way you deserve to be loved or even better.

you knew he tended to hold himself back every time he became aware of his true and raw feelings out of nowhere.

“seokmin, im in love with you, not with the idea of being in love. my feelings for you dont have an expiration date, and if they did, there would be no meaning to me living,” you sighed and placed your hand on his cheek, the tip of your fingers in contact with his hair. seokmin leaned into your touch and closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your warm hand on his cold cheek due the weather. “i know being in love is scary, sometimes i am afraid of how strong the feelings i have towards you are. but when i look at you, that fear is gone.”

seokmin smiled and tried his best to not cry, holding back his tears as if his life depended on it. “we’re still young, lets enjoy our time together without thinking about a deadline or anything like that. im sure there won’t be, but still… i want you to stop worrying too much, i’m here and i don’t plan on leaving at all.”

he nodded and placed his hand over yours that was resting on his cheek. “i know, i dont plan on leaving as well. it’s just,” he took a deep breath before continuing. “sometimes its scary. i dont want to stop loving you or stop being loved by you.”

you pouted in response, finding his words endearing and at the same time kinda silly. how could you ever stop loving him? is he aware of how good looking he is? is he aware of the big and kind heart he has? “i wont stop loving you, silly.”

he brought your pulse near his lips and kissed it, making your heart beat so fast you could swear he was able to listen to your heartbeat. he looked at you like a baby looking at its mom after crying for hours because it missed her.

seokmin held a constellation in his eyes. his love for life and for you being so much that it pours out through his eyes, his words and his cute aggressions from time to time.

“love you more than anything,” his voice came out as a loving wisper. he kissed your hair and hugged you. that was when he knew everything was going to be fine, that your love for him was more than true.

[ladyeyrewrites]

💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭 MORE PLEASE I LOVE THIS SERIES

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Thanks so much anon! I've been blown away with the response to what I've posted so far. I'll probably start posting this on Ao3 later this week once I've got a bit more backlog built up. Have a little Tommy POV:

Tommy holds it together until Evan is calm enough to listen to the doctor explain next steps. He keeps himself in check, his weakness at bay, even though all he wants to do is breakdown and scream.

He tires to smile encouragingly as an orderly wheels Evan away to take him for a brain scan, but it’s strained. As the door closes behind Evan, Tommy slumps into the chair next to Evan’s bed and buries his head in his hands. He waits for tears to come.

They don’t, despite the fact he can feel them pressing against his eyelids, they refuse to fall.

“He’ll be okay.” Maddie places a hand on his shoulder and Tommy shudders, instinctively shying away from comfort before he forces himself to be still and accept it.

“What if he never remembers?” Tommy asks. “What if he decides he’d rather live a different life?” A different life than the one they’ve built together. A life without Tommy. And as devastating as this is, there’s a part of Tommy that’s not even all that shocked.

Four three years, he’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop. And here it is, Tommy flattened underneath its rubber sole.

That little voice that he thought had quieted down is back, the one that lurks in the back of his mind, whispering that he doesn’t deserve to be happy, that his relationship with Evan is a fluke, a cosmic mistake, that he was never meant to be the forever guy after all. Evan’s forever is still out there somewhere waiting for him. If Evan wants a divorce, Tommy won’t protest.

If?

Who’s Tommy kidding? Of course, Evan will want a divorce. As far as Evan knows, he’s twenty-five-years old and straight. He’s still in his Buck 1.0 days. Or is he an even earlier version because he’s not even Buck yet?

This Evan, this proto-Buck, has never been in a serious relationship, has never held a long-term lease, barely has a credit history because of all the under-the-table work and crashing at friends houses he’s done. Tommy really would be this Evan’s first.

“Breath, Tommy,” Maddie says and for the first time, Tommy realises his breathing is fast and ragged. He’s hyperventilating. Head spinning.

Spinning. Vision dark.

He squeezes his eyes tight and tries to breathe along with Maddie’s counts: in-two-three-four, hold-two-three-four, out-two-three-four. Over and over until warmth returns to his face. He opens his eyes and gives Maddie a weak smile. “I’m good,” he says.

“You’re really not,” she replies. “Neither am I.”

“Ten years,” he says. “Ten fucking years.” He shouldn’t be angry. It’s not Evan’s fault this happened. As far as Tommy’s been told, there wasn’t time to issue an evacuation order before the roof collapsed on top of Evan. Tommy knows he should be relieved that Evan made it out alive. That the fire was nearly out by the time the roof collapsed. That Evan escaped with no burns or broken bones, only bruises and a gaping hole where their life together should be.

[rubywillkins]

Lando Norris | Beyond the checkered flags

Pairing Lando × female reader

Warning smut, frenemy, insecurity

Y/n had always been part of the Formula 1 world, though not directly. Her childhood friend, Lando, was one of the most celebrated drivers on the grid, and their mutual friends ensured she was never far from the paddock drama. They had grown up together, thick as thieves but constantly at odds—a dynamic their friends loved to tease.

“You two fight like you’re in love,” Clara quipped one evening at a dinner.

Y/n smirked. “Please. His ego would suffocate me.”

Lando shot back, “And her stubbornness would drive me straight into the gravel.”

The room erupted into laughter, but neither noticed the fleeting glances they exchanged when the other wasn’t looking.

It wasn’t until a rainy summer barbecue that their dynamic shifted. Yn was sitting under a gazebo, watching Lando charm a group of fans who had crashed the party. She sipped her wine, trying to ignore the dull ache in her chest. Meanwhile, Lando couldn’t shake how Y/n’s laugh—melodic and carefree—seemed to pierce through the noise around him.

Later that night, as the rain drizzled down, he found himself texting her.

“You should come to a race,” he wrote.

Y/n stared at her phone, her heart skipping a beat. “Sure, let me just hop on my private jet,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“I’m serious,” Lando texted back. “Let me handle it. I want you to see me race.”

Y/n hesitated. She hated the idea of accepting something so extravagant, even from Lando. “I’ll think about it,” she finally replied, hoping he’d drop the subject.

But Lando wasn’t one to give up. Over the next few days, he bombarded her with calls and texts. “Y/n, don’t be stubborn. It’s nothing for me to arrange. You’ve always been there for me—let me do this for you,” he said late one night, his voice softer than usual.

Her resistance melted. A week later, she found herself walking beside him in the bustling paddock of the British Grand Prix. The air vibrated with the roar of engines, the sharp smell of rubber and gasoline filling her senses. She felt out of place, but Lando’s presence was grounding.

But the day wasn’t without its thorns. By the evening, y/n discovered a slew of toxic comments on social media: “Who’s the girl with Lando? Another fame-hungry wannabe.” “She looks so out of place. Clearly, not his type.”

Y/n tried to shrug it off, but the words gnawed at her. Back at his hotel room, Lando noticed her unusually quiet demeanor.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.

She hesitated before showing him her phone. “It’s just...people online. Nothing important.”

Lando scrolled through the comments, his jaw tightening. “y/n, don’t let these idiots get to you. They have no idea who you are.”

She looked away, biting her lip. “It’s hard not to care.”

He cupped her chin, gently tilting her face toward his. His touch was warm, his eyes smoldering with an intensity that made her pulse race. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice low. “You’re incredible. And anyone who says otherwise doesn’t deserve to know you.”

Her breath hitched, their proximity electric. “Lando…”

Before she could say more, his lips were on hers—firm, urgent, yet achingly tender. Lando melted into him, her hands clutching the front of his shirt as he pulled her closer. The kiss deepened, years of unspoken emotions unraveling in the heat between them.

He broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against her lips, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Y/n gazed up at him, her cheeks flushed. “Maybe I’ve wanted it too.”

Lando’s hands slid to her waist, his touch firm yet reverent. “Stay with me tonight,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Y/s’s heart pounded, but there was no hesitation. “I’m not going anywhere.”

What followed was a night of raw, unrestrained passion. Lando worshipped her like she was the only thing that mattered, He took her in his arms in bridal style, and than put her on bed slowly. "I just love you sweetheart so much" before she could even reply he just started kissing her hungrily... it was rough but with care...

He started to undress her while making out..

The moment the Bra was off of her.. he just froze.. he admired the her breasts like they were kind of sweet.. " lando stop.." she said while blushing.. "oh c'mon they are adorable, lemme taste them" he started sucking them like a hungy poor guy who didn't get food since days...

One hand pinching other niple while other was gropping one while he is sucking it.. and you.. you were a fucking moaning mess.. and than he slowly moved to your clit... And started drawing circles on it... He suddenly slipped his all 3 fingers inside you... You gasped... " Lando..be gentle Baby".." yea baby.. I will try.. i will try to be very gently rough"..

"argh you are so good lando"... He was fucking you with his all three fingers... While sucking your clitoris... And than... He put his dick inside you in a split second.. givinh you shockwaves every min.. or should I say every second..

He was good infact he was firee.. after some time.. you both cum together...

You let yourself fall, surrendering to the heat and emotion that had simmered between both of you, for years.

By morning, they lay tangled in the sheets, the first rays of sunlight painting the room in soft hues. Lando traced lazy patterns on her bare shoulder.

“So,” he began with a smirk, “will you come to more races with me?”

Y/n laughed, her fingers trailing down his chest. “Only if you promise to win.”

“For you?” he said, leaning down to kiss her again. “Always.”

From that day on, y/n and Lando faced the highs and lows of his career together. In a world of speed and chaos, they had found something steady and unshakable: each other.

..........................................................................................

Authors note

As per the pole results.. Lando Norris won by 0.6% from Oscar. I personally think it's almost a tie. So if you guys want an Oscar fic too than you can request me. I'll only be making the oscar fic after this if I get enough requests. So if you guys want an Oscar fic just after this fic than my next fic will be about oscar. Thankyou ❤️

[oceans-tide]

love how sonadows share a hive mind and it's write post sonic-3 fics --

[sonic 3 spoilers below]

-- with shadow ending up in greenhill - in sonic's old cave one way or another before sonic (or any wachowski family member) eventually finds him and he becomes an honorary wachowski .

and eventually the wachowskis catches on to sonic's crush on the other hedgehog and they're relentless about it.

shadow's just happy he has a roof to live under and a bed to sleep in (though not without his crippling anxiety of "they'll kick me out soon they actually hate me i almost destroyed their family i dont deserve forgiveness" <- most are just his projections; the wachowskis accepts him) . oh and not to mention sonic challenging him to runs and everything. shadow likes sonic's company just as much as sonic looks for shadow's

[osohchoso]

Blood and Chains

Chapter Seven- Behind Those Eyes

Choso x F!reader

Previous | Chapter Index | Chapter 8 coming soon!

Content: HEAVY LORE CHAPTER, flashback episode before he met you, Choso's POV, angst, blood, violence, minor character death

This story is set in a slight alternate universe from the real JJK, if you need a reminder on the lore please look at the prologue for a refresh :)

He was never supposed to love again. Not after everything that happened, not after her.

A year after the Shibuya incident, Choso was still adjusting to human society. It was hard for the half-curse to learn all the rules that accompany his flesh form. Not only did he have to figure out how to keep his body alive: food, sleep, warmth. He also had to understand the unwritten rules of society that come naturally for those born human. 

The first year wasn't just tough on Choso, but it was on Yuji too. Yuji was put in charge of him, expected to teach him everything he needed to know. Which is hard enough for a 15-year-old, but it was even harder with their originally rocky relationship. It took Yuji a few months to finally accept Choso as his older brother. 

Who could blame him with the family dynamic they have? Choso seemingly dropped from the sky into Yuji’s life. They tried to kill each other, of course their relationship would be strained. Thankfully, that period didn’t last long. The two brothers formed a strong bond within the first year. 

But not everyone trusted Choso. 

The higher-ups wanted him executed, a way to pay for his crimes in Shibuya. Choso would have accepted his fate too, he felt he deserved it for helping Kenjaku’s plot. To his surprise, many of the other sorcerers stood up for him, holding their ground against the decision. Without Choso, they wouldn’t have released Gojo from the prison realm that day, and there would have been many more casualties than there were. They saw value in him as a new ally. 

Reluctantly, the higher-ups decided on a new punishment. Sentenced to an eternal life serving as a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Hunting down curses until the end. In Choso’s eyes, it was justified, and he would carry out the sentence willingly.

Just to make sure he followed through; they tacked on an additional term. If Choso ever abandoned his post, ever betrayed them. He would be sentenced to death, with Yuji as his personal executioner. 

Which is why for the first year, he wasn't allowed on any mission alone. Every mission, even every walk out in the normal world, he had to be accompanied by Yuji or Gojo. Just in case he ‘went rogue’ as they said. The higher-ups still didn’t trust him, and they never truly will. 

After that first year was up, he was finally granted some freedom. Getting assigned missions alone and no longer needing an escort into town if he wanted an order of takoyaki. 

To celebrate his longer leash, he did just that. Walking into town and up to his favorite food stall, one him and Yuji frequent often. 

“The usual, Choso?” the elderly woman at the stand asked, already pouring the batter into the takoyaki maker she was hunched over. 

“Yes, please.” He responded with a polite nod and small smile. 

“No, Yuji today?” she questions as she flips the balls over in the pan. 

“Nope, not today.” He beams at her. Even though he loves coming to this place with his brother, he can’t contain the excitement he feels today. She smiles and transfers the cooked octopus balls to a paper tray, handing it to him. Choso fishes around in his pocket for the money but she shakes her head.

“Not today, this one is on the house. Enjoy the rest of your day dear.” She smiles at him.

“Thank you!” He smiles back, continuing on his stroll. He decided to make his way to the nearby park, just outside the city. Marching up a vibrant green hill and sitting underneath a shady tree. He stabs one of the takoyaki, bringing it in front of his lips and blowing on the steam. Then stuffing it inside his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he hums. He continues to devour his snack as he overlooks the park. Kids playing, couples having a picnic, a man and his dog playing catch. Today really was the perfect day. 

He stabs his last takoyaki and brings it to his mouth. Before he can savor the last ball, it falls off the pick and begins its descent down the hill, rolling at an incredible speed. He can do nothing but watch it roll away, straight toward two girls who are sitting on the grass. The ball rolls right into one of the girl’s white purse, staining it with its brown sticky sauce. He can hear them gasp, one of the girls glaring back at him.

Yuji said you have to apologize, even if it was an accident. He reminds himself of one of the rules his brother taught him. Pushing himself off the ground and making his way down the hill. As he approaches, he can hear them bickering. The one without the ruined purse seems more upset than the other. By appearances, he can tell they are in their twenties and also look strangely identical. Both with unusual long, snow-white hair. Reminding him of a certain sorcerer he knows. The only way to tell them apart is one of the girls had dazzling flecks of gold on her irises. 

“Um…I’m really sorry.” He interrupts them, pointing to the stain. “It just…fell off” He fidgets a bit as they turn their gaze to him, scanning his facial features as he avoids eye contact by looking at his feet. One of the girls berates him for being so careless, hurling insults that he tries to ignore. Standing there like a wounded puppy, his pigtails drooping slightly. 

As she continues her rant, Choso wishes he could crawl away in shame. Tail tucked between his legs and run. Yuji never told him that strangers could be so mean. He dares to raise his face as her sharp words continue to cut deep, locking eyes with the other girl, gold dancing in her eyes. She smiles in return. A soft and kind smile, one opposite to her rude accomplice. And she was beautiful, more beautiful than anything he's ever seen. 

His heart thumps in a way he's never felt, vibrant blush spreading across his face.

“Sis, that's enough. It was an accident and you're just making him uncomfortable.” The nice one tells the mean one. 

“Y-yeah. An accident.” Choso echos quiet as a mouse. 

“Still, that was an expensive gift and-” 

“Lysithea! Stop!” She interrupts her sister before she goes back to reprimanding Choso. The mean one, Lysithea, closes her mouth. Lips in a tight line as she glares at her. “Ignore her…she's the evil twin.” She teases, turning back to Choso.

“I’m really sorry. I can replace it!” Choso blurts out, guilt eating him alive for ruining such a nice possession. She looks like she's about to object, then her lips curve into a cute smirk. Standing up in front of him. 

“Let me see your phone.” She asks, hand out waiting for him to oblige. Choso reaches a hand in his pocket and freezes. He left the stupid thing at home. In all honesty, he hated that confusing rectangle. Yuji gets so frustrated with him when he tries to show him how to use it, so he doesn’t even bother trying.

“I…Uh...” He stammers, not sure what to say. Cheeks still bright red as his eyes roam her pretty face. She lets out a slight laugh while shaking her head, bending down to retrieve something from her stained purse. 

“Let me see your arm.” Even though he's confused, he obeys. Sticking his forearm out in front of her. She grabs his wrist, the touch sending an electric shock through him. She pushes up his sleeve with one hand, her other uncaps a sharpie. Scrawling a string of numbers along with her name, ‘Lilith’, across his pale skin. She releases his hand, looking back up at him.

“Text me later, pretty boy?” Her words send an unfamiliar heat straight through him. He swallows hard.

“Yeah…I will,” he whispered hoarsely.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

It started with the purse.

Yuji helped Choso send the text, feeling a bit of pride. His older brother got a girl’s number all on his own, even if it was due to a silly mistake. The little brother also wanted to act as wingman, setting him up for his first time out with a girl. Even though Choso keeps telling him it isn't a date, Yuji continues to think otherwise. Sitting down and making the brother watch romance movie after movie, until he felt he was prepared. 

Choso never saw this as a romantic outing, it was just fixing his wrong doings. 

When he met up with Lilith at the mall, his heart skipped a beat. Wearing a casual and flowy maxi dress, not a hair on her head out of place. Suddenly, he wishes he had dressed a little nicer, instead of the tee-shirt and jeans he threw on in a rush. 

The pair went and found another purse, almost identical to the one she had before. With a large price tag. Choso didn’t mind though, this is what he promised to do. He can always make more money. 

Afterwards, he turned to her. Muttering an awkward goodbye before turning to leave. As he tried to walk away, she reached a hand for his, enveloping it in warmth.

“Wait…stay,” she urged him with a smile. A look of surprise washed over him, he expected her to leave once she got the replacement. Maybe there was more to this after all? 

So he stayed, the two spent the remainder of the day together. Shopping, eating, the whole time chatting and giggling. Staying out until the black curtain covered the sky and the moon illuminated the path. Choso walked her home, seeing her sister glare through the window, and thanked her for the fun day. 

He had never felt this way before, the way he felt with her. It was all a new experience. A feeling he wanted to keep chasing, and hoped she felt the same way. Luckily, she did.

Over the next few months, their relationship blossomed. Spending every waking moment together when they weren't working. Neither of them spoke much about their jobs, it didn’t seem important to ask and he didn’t want her involved in the dangerous daily life he deals with. All that mattered was each other. Going on dates to coffee shops, restaurants and movie theaters. Each more exciting than the last. 

They never put a label on their relationship, but Choso knew he was madly in love with her. Already imagining a future, her as his wife. He knew it was too soon, but he knew what he wanted. Her. 

Neither of them had explained their relationship to their siblings yet. She didn’t seem all that interested in telling her twin. Her sister who seemed to form a hateship with Choso the day they met. The closer she got to Choso, the less time she spent with Lysithea. On the other hand, Choso knew he would tell Yuji eventually but was waiting for the right time. His younger brother is getting sent on lots of missions lately now that he is a second year, finding less and less time to spend with Choso.

Lilith was a list of firsts with Choso. His first kiss, first date, first love. Unlocking each moment was more exciting than the last. He even lost his virginity to her, an experience that left her equally as breathless as him. The two had an insatiable hunger for the other. Every night together always seemed to end with their legs tangled around each other. 

Choso laid on his bed, naked and still coming down from the high of his last orgasm. Sounds of cascading water can be heard from the shower down the hall. His heavy eyelids flutter closed as he awaits her return. Listening to Lilith’s soft hums as he drifts off to a light sleep.

He didn't realize how long he closed his eyes for until he heard the front door close followed by his brother’s booming voice.

“Hey Choso, I’m home I- oh.” He stops mid-sentence. Yuji wasn't supposed to be home tonight. He hears the gentle voice of Lilith chatting with Yuji, the reality of everything shocks him awake. Leaping out of bed and scrambling to pull some clothes on until he's stumbling down the hall. Spotting his love wearing the clothes she arrived in, hair slightly damp from her shower as she speaks to his brother casually.

“Y-Yuji!” He stutters, interrupting their conversation. “What are you doing home?”

“Choso! Can’t believe you were keeping her a secret from me!” He exclaims, obviously excited that his older brother found someone special. The younger brother smacked shy Choso on his back a few times. 

“Sorry Yuji, I was going to tell you. I swear.” Choso defends sheepishly. 

“Well, it was nice to meet you, I was just about to head home.” Lilith interrupts, pushing forward to grab her shoes. Eyeing Yuji a few times like she was searching for something. 

“No! Stay!” Yuji begs. “I got out of work early today and picked up some food. I think I have enough for all of us.” He holds up a plastic bag to show it off. “Let's watch a movie, I want to know all about the girl Choso has been ditching me for.” He continues to tease.

So she stayed, joining the brothers on the couch as they ate and watched some movie Yuji swears by. The whole night felt fun, his two favorite people under one roof. Yuji would ask questions about her and in turn, she asked about him. Some of it felt a little odd and uncomfortable to Choso. Lilith was vague with her personal details when his brother asked, yet she asked him countless unnecessary questions. All that Yuji happily answered. 

That was the last night Lilith felt truly normal.

The month following, Yuji always seemed to be the center of every conversation with her. Asking more oddly personal details and questioning his whereabouts, his daily schedule, his fears. It made Choso feel a little uneasy, so he kept the answers vague and would try to steer it elsewhere when possible. Whenever he didn't give the details she wanted, Choso would come home to her waiting at his front door. Asking to speak with Yuji.

It felt obsessive, and he wanted to confront her. But he hesitated. Maybe she just really wanted to be friends with his brother, maybe she knew just how important Yuji was to him so she was trying her best to get along and learn everything there is to know about him. It was kinda sweet when he thought about it that way. So he kept his mouth shut. 

The days where she spent every moment possible with Choso were long gone. Now making excuses of why she couldn’t come over or canceling dates last minute. Now ditching Choso for her sister when it used to be the opposite way. 

The last time she had sex with him also felt weird, forced and rushed. None of the passion it used to be, he was struggling to understand what changed. Once the heat of the moment was over, she crawled off of him, quickly putting her clothes back on. 

“You're leaving already?” He blurts out, unable to hide his disappointment at her hasty departure. Was it so wrong to want to spend more time with her? 

“Yeah, sorry love…gotta go” She shrugs him off, pulling her shirt over her exposed flesh. Do you even love me? He wants to ask, biting his tongue to keep the spiteful comment to himself. She looks over at him, seeing the conflict creasing his forehead. “Hey? How about date night this weekend? My treat.” She offers, her voice a bit softer than before. 

“Yeah, I would like that.” He sighs. Maybe then he could bring up his worries, express his feelings and talk things through. That's what you do in a healthy relationship after all.  He doesn’t want to keep feeling so distant with her. 

“Okay. Dinner at that place we like? Friday?” she smiles, the genuine smile he missed so much. 

“Yeah, sounds good” He exhales, a small smile of his own the mask his uncertainty. 

With that, she walks out of the bedroom. Choso pulls his own clothes back on, thinking she has exited the apartment already. A loud clatter tells him otherwise, he hurries out to the main area of the home. Seeing her bent over, a chair knocked to the ground and Yuji’s red hoodie on the floor. 

“Sorry” she says as she pinches the hood and picks the chair back up, placing the fallen clothing on the back of it. “Ran into it after I put my shoes on," she laughs. 

“Clumsy girl” Choso shakes his head with a smile, hugging her one last time before she leaves completely. 

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

Choso sits at the table of the Thai restaurant they love. He made sure to dress nicer than usual, his loose long locks being the cherry on top to complete the outfit. He sips his glass of water, staring ahead at the empty chain in front of him. She was late. 

“Sorry!” she apologizes profusely when she finally shows up, 30 minutes after the date should have started. She didn’t offer any type of excuse as she settled into the chair, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. Her eyes avoid his as she reaches for a glass of water, taking a small sip.

“It’s fine,” Choso sighs. It wasn’t fine, but he wouldn’t let that show. Not when he practically had to pull her teeth to get some quality time with her. He didn’t want to push her away even more. 

“So, what do you want to order?” She asks, propping the menu up in front of her face. 

“The usual,” he mutters. He doesn't even need the menu, they order the same thing every time. She should know this. He rests his elbow on the table, placing his chin in his hand as he looks around the room. Other couples holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes. A sight that made his heart ache. He places his other hand on the table, sliding it across and hoping she will take the hint. She doesn't, still scanning the menu in front of her like she isn't about to order the peanut noodles with tofu.

Choso sighs and retracts his hand, feeling defeated once again. How could the girl he loved change so much? 

A vibrate in his pocket gets his attention, pulling his phone out. An incoming call from Yuji, odd. His brother knew Choso was going on a date tonight, he wouldn’t normally call if it wasn't important. He hesitates, knowing it’s rude to pick up while out with someone else. Sliding the phone back inside his pocket. Surly Yuji will text or call again if it’s urgent. 

Almost as quickly as he put it away, Yuji calls again. Now Choso is worried, scrambling to grasp the phone in a hurry to answer it. He’s about to press the answer-call button when his date’s voice cuts through to him.

“Don’t answer that.” She says sternly, setting the menu down and glaring at the still vibrating phone in his hand.

“Why? It might be something important, or maybe he got hurt.” Choso barks back, his fears escaping him in shrill whines.

“Am I not Important?” Her words stung hard, of course she is but so was Yuji. “You are supposed to be spending time with me. Your attention on me .” Her tone a harshness he isn’t used to, causing him to flinch. The phone silences again, missing the call a second time in a row. 

“Put the phone away” She tells him like a command, expecting Choso to obey like an obedient dog. 

“No,” he challenges. “Yuji is my brother, I need to make sure he's ok first.” Lilith swipes a hand forward across the table, trying to snatch the phone from his hand, but Choso is quicker. Leaning back and holding it above his head. By now, several patrons in the restaurant are watching their lover's quarrel. She retracts her hand as Choso shoots daggers across the table. What is wrong with her?

His phone vibrates twice more, alerting him of two incoming text messages. He quickly unlocks the device to read them. His heart pounding wildly with fear.

Yuji: [pinned location]

Yuji: BACKUP!!!!

His suspicions were correct. Yuji is in danger! His little brother needs help. The texts are vague, leaving Choso to wonder what he had got himself into. He jolts up from his chair, the sudden movement knocking it back to fall on the floor with a loud crash. Everyone in the restaurant stops eating to watch the scene he's causing. 

“I have to go,” is all he mutters, still angry about the way she has acted this evening. Her eyes on the floor, not even bothering to look at him as he departs. As he walks past, her hand catches his wrist, holding him with an almost crushing force. 

“Let go,” He growls out in warning. While he is mad, he still doesn't want to cause her harm. But if he has to pry her fingers off one by one, he will.

“Stay!” she growls back, once again in that hateful tone she has never used with him. This isn’t the woman he knows, isn’t the woman he loves. She is a stranger to him. Can’t even bother to look him in the eyes. He yanks his hand free, his raw strength easily outweighing hers. 

“Goodbye” he mutters, vein popping on his forehead as he strides for the door. Walking away from whatever their relationship is for good. Bursting through the front door and running to the location Yuji sent him. 

He made it to Yuji’s location in record time. The adrenaline and fear pushed him to move faster than ever before. He finds him in a dimly lit park, fighting a lithe figure cloaked in black. A hood up concealing their face. Yuji doesn’t appear to be in good shape, the younger sorcerer taking quite a beating as his opponent relentlessly lands attack after attack. Frozen in horror, he watches the enemy raise a sword, ready to deal the finishing blow. 

No! He can’t even bring himself to speak out. His body starts moving on his own, adjusting his stance and pressing his palms together. Posed to shoot a piercing blood attack before the blade can so much as touch his brother. He shoots the beam of blood, a powerful force that rips through the lower half of the attacker's body. A fatal wound no doubt. Their hand releases the sword, letting it crash to the ground with a metallic clang. Choso rushes forward to his brother’s side. 

The body of the attacker falls backward, hood flying off to reveal the snow-white hair and a familiar face. Lysithea? No. Even with the barely helpful flickering streetlights, Choso can see the shimmering gold in her irises. Lilith.

She was never the one at the restaurant with him tonight, the twins had swapped so she could go off on her own mission. One that involved killing his younger brother while he was distracted. A wave of emotions crashes over Choso. Anger, sadness, confusion. He can’t keep his tears at bay as he kneels down next to her, scanning her face. 

“Why? Why?” He repeats over and over, guilt swallowing him whole. He was happy to save his brother of course, but the shock of who he had to save him from started to dull his senses. He moves a gentle hand to cradle the back of her head, forcing her to look at him. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows hard, awaiting any type of answer. 

“I’m sorry…Choso.” She croaks between labored breaths, a hand pressed to her side that continues to leak fresh blood. She was way past the point of saving. “We deceived you. I used you.” 

The storm of anger grows in his stomach. Was anything real during these past few months? Every romantic adventure, every honeyed word, every time loving touch. Did it mean nothing to her? Just a way to gain his trust, to bring his guard down.

And he believed her. Everything felt so real with her, how could she fake it so well?

He’s unable to speak, still struggling to process the new information as it enters his brain. Acutely aware of his brother, injured, lifting himself off the ground and limping past. Speaking to someone who just arrived at the scene, another sorcerer for backup no doubt. Choso doesn't move, doesn’t even turn to see who arrived. Solely focused on watching the slow rise and fall of Lilith’s chest. 

“I’m sorry Choso,” She repeats sweetly with that happy smile she usually wears. She raised a bloody hand and pressed it to his cheek. He flinches at the contact. “I really did love you,” she whispered hoarsely, taking her last breath. Her cold hand falling limp away from his face, leaving a red imprint on his skin. 

The mental dam breaks, hurling Choso over the edge. Spiraling just as bad as he did in Shibuya when he tried killing Yuji. His stomach churning, he can't breathe. Someone was beside him trying to talk him down, but it wouldn't reach his deaf ears. The rest of the night a blur, feeling completely numb. 

The only memory he has during the ordeal was hearing her sister, Lysithea. She was detained by another sorcerer shortly after Choso fled the restaurant. He can’t remember how she looked at him, with her sister’s blood still stained on his face and hands. But the venom in her voice is something he would never forget.

“You're a monster.”

He convinced himself he deserved this. He doesn’t deserve happiness or love. He fell for the first woman who was kind to him, and this is where it took him. Down a path of pain and misery. He put his own brother in danger just for her, because he was so hopelessly in love with her. Maybe if this wasn’t his first relationship, if he wasn’t so naive, he would have seen the signs. But he didn’t. Playing a leading role that almost got Yuji taken from him, and playing the part of executioner to his first love.

Never again. To protect himself, to protect his only family left. He will never allow himself to love again. 

The following weeks meshed together for him. Days blending, not being able to tell apart if the sun was blazing or if the stars were shining. He drifted around the apartment like a ghost, all greasy hair and dark circles. Just a husk of his former self. It was starting to worry Yuji.

Lysithea was taken into custody, set to be questioned by the higher ups on their motive before she was also sentenced to death. Yuji filled Choso in on the details. Apparently, it took a great deal of torture for her to reveal anything, and she still didn’t give away everything they wanted. Some secrets left unanswered, clutching them to her grave. 

The twins were curse users who were working for Kenjaku. Their orders were simple: bring back Yuji Itadori, dead or alive. They used Choso, he was their ticket to get close to the younger brother. Stringing Choso along in their plot unknowingly. They had even placed a tracker in Yuji’s hoodie so they could bump into him with his guard down. Lilith was stronger, with a cursed technique more suited for combat. That is why she sent her identical twin to swap her place on the date, attempting to keep Choso distracted and away from saving his brother. 

To make matters worse, the higher-ups knew about this whole thing. They had the power to stop things before they got out of hand and chose not to. They couldn't care less if Sukuna’s vessel or the half-curse were taken out in the process. They just watched, waiting on standby as things unfolded.

The two things they really wanted to know, Kenjaku’s whereabouts and his next move, were something Lysithea refused to reveal. Leaving everyone at Jujutsu Tech clueless on how to proceed. 

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

A part of him died with her that day. It took him a long time to recover, to return to himself again. It wasn’t until he met you that he realized how love should feel. You made him feel whole again, piecing together the still shattered pieces of his heart. 

He leans forward in his chair, watching the rise and fall of your chest as you rest in the hospital bed. It has been 7 hours, and you still showed no sign of waking. 7 hours he stayed awake, fighting the burning in his tired eyes as he refused to leave your side. Machines and cords hooked to you, steady beeps filling the air. Fluorescent lights illuminating the room, highlighting the fresh bandages that wrap around your body. One of his large hands firmly wrapped around yours. 

He wishes he could take everything back. Never met you, never started seeing you. Every kiss, every shared moment, he would undo it all if it meant he didn’t have to watch you suffer before his eyes. If it wasn’t for him, you would never have ended up in this situation. You would be safe at home, drawing in your sketchbook or out with your friends. He has ruined you.

Shoko healed you to the best of her ability, using both her cursed technique and medical expertise. You were alive, you were stable, but still not awake. Even though the blood he transfused to you did help until Shoko arrived on scene, it was attacking your body. She wasn’t able to fully flush that from you. 

“It’s up to her now,” Shoko told him after leaving the operating room. “She has to win the fight on her own.”

“She will” Choso assured her, you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. Even when everyone doubted if you could pull through or not, he refused to give up on you.

“Please, little flower.” Choso begged, scooting his chair closer to you. The legs screeching loudly against the hard tile floor. He rests his cheek on top of your chest, looking up at you with red and puffy eyes. “Wake up. Please wake up for me.”

dividers by @cyberangel-graphics

Taglist: @lavenderdaydream97 @angel04-01

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read so far! With this chapter, we are now caught up to everything I have on my Ao3, which means it is time for new stuff to be released! The next chapter is written and will be uploaded sometime next week :)

[dragqueenstarscream]

G1 Starscream with 4, 5, 8, 11, 16, and 19 pls(a lot srry)? This version specifically is my bastard love and he deserves it

yeahhhhh, g1!! he's such a specific flavor of bastard that i really love. have some headcanons!

4 - i feel like he's a switch, but prefers to bottom. every once in a while, if he's feeling generous, he'll be on top and take care of his cute little human partner, but usually, he prefers to be on the bottom. he's the great lord starscream, and he deserves to be pampered by his favorite human.

5 - yes, and he loves to surprise you with it. one of his favorite things to do is sneak in a french kiss when you're not expecting it, just to see your reaction.

8 - that probably goes to one of the times where the two of you decided to experiment. g1 starscream is kinky as hell, and he loves to try new things. this time around, it was edging.

now, starscream is used to getting what he wants, so when he got so close to overloading only to have it denied, he started to pout and fuss. he didn't use the safeword, so he still wanted to keep going, but his poutiness was so cute that you had to take advantage. you started teasing him, calling him cute nicknames as you brought him closer to overload again, watching the look on his face go from excitement to frustration as he was denied once again.

by this point, he was demanding that you let him overload, so you decided that he earned it. this time around, though, you were relentless, riding his spike and teasing his valve at the same time. he wanted to overload, and you were gonna give it to him.

he ended up living up to his name, screaming as he overloaded inside you and squirted all over the berth. he was furious with you for tormenting him, torturing him, denying him what he deserved. you made it up to him with extra energon and a wing massage. he would later admit to you, though, that, as awful and mean as you were, he really enjoyed it.

he won't admit it, but he's eager to do that again.

11 - when he's accepting aftercare, he views it as a necessity. he deserves to be taken care of after interfacing, after all. he'll accept nothing but the best from his partner.

but that also means he'll do his best for you. he's a little clumsy with it because humans are so much smaller, but he still tries his best, and from someone like him, that's a high honor.

16 - as with every seeker, his wings are highly sensitive, but i also think that his servos would be sensitive, as well. he has something of a hand fixation, so teasing you with his servos or watching you try to suck on his digits really gets him going.

19 - starscream is willing to try most things once, and that includes bondage. he likes when you tie him up, but he much prefers tying you up in beautiful ways and having his way with you. you look like a work of art, all done up in twists of rope, and he'll enjoy you at his own pace.

[searchingwardrobes]

Scarborough Fair 9/?

Yes, it's true. You aren't dreaming. I am finally updating this long-neglected fic! Not only that, but I will be finishing it. As a matter of fact, you will have an update every day this week. If anyone still cares, that is, lol. I know the fandom isn't what it once was. However, I suddenly got inspired again to finish this. So whether or not anyone reads it, it's getting the resolution it deserves. Why did I neglect it for so long? Writer's block. I just haven't written hardly a thing in at least a year, probably longer. So when I laid awake, unable to sleep because I was finishing this fic in my head, I was ecstatic. That's why I'm finishing it whether anyone reads it or not. Of course, if you are still reading it, may I politely suggest commenting? It definitely feeds the muse!

Rest assured, there will be an update tomorrow. I don't have much going on tomorrow, and I actually planned more in this chapter originally. So be looking out for that!

Much thanks to the two biggest fans of this fic, Krystal @kmomof4 and Marta @snowbellewells - re-reading your reblogs of this fic helped kick me back into high gear!

And as an extra treat, here is a picture of Emma's wedding dress in this chapter:

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Emma Swan has had a charmed life, despite being a foster child. She has a wonderful family who loves her, and the best friends in the world. The only thing that mars her idyllic existence is her birth mother: a homeless woman who mutters nonsensical rhymes and claims to be Snow White. One fateful night, however, Emma’s world is shattered. Perhaps her mother’s rhymes aren’t nonsense after all.

Rated: M for date rape, dubious consent, teen pregnancy, and sexy times (the good kind!)

Words: Over 1k in this chapter

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Liam and Ingrid, unsurprisingly, had concerns when they came home to Emma and Killian announcing their engagement. Anna, unsurprisingly, was bouncing up and down with joy. 

“Are you sure you’re proposing for the right reasons?” Was their main question for Killian.

“Well, the main reason is I love her,” he told them with conviction, “but it’s also the timing. She needs me. I know deep in my bones I was always meant to be her husband, so if she needs me now, why wait?”

“Are you sure you aren’t just accepting out of fear? Because it’s safe?” Was their main question for Emma.

Emma’s answer was delivered with just as much conviction. “It isn’t just that I feel safe with Killian; I love him. Shouldn’t love feel safe, anyway? And I feel the same way he does. If we waited five more years, or ten, or twenty, nothing would change. We’re meant to be together.”

Liam and Ingrid couldn’t pretend to be surprised. Both of them had noticed a soulmate type of connection between Emma and Killian for a long time. They also couldn’t deny the logic of the decision when it came to Emma’s security and the baby’s. There was only one other concern.

“What about school?”

“I can finish high school married just as well as I can single,” Emma told them with a shrug, and Killian vowed he wouldn’t get in the way of her education. 

“But Boston College, Killian?”

He squared his shoulders and looked his brother dead in the eyes. “I won’t be returning. I’ve already told my boss he can count on me full time with the construction company. He’s promoting me to a foreman position, so I can easily support Emma. When the baby’s a little older, I can enroll at Red Oak and get my degree there.” 

Liam wanted to argue, but there really wasn’t anything wrong with Killian’s plan. Lots of people worked a year or two, or longer, before getting a degree. He wanted to say that Boston College was a lot more prestigious than Red Oak, but he knew full well it was a pretty weak argument. Killian would save a lot of money by transferring to Red Oak, not to mention gaining job experience. He let out a long breath and shared a meaningful look with his wife. 

“Well okay, then,” she said, her signature grin filling her face, “let’s plan a wedding!”

*******************************************************

A date was set for mid-August, giving Emma two weeks between the wedding and the first day of her senior year. Unfortunately, Elsa wouldn’t be back from her study abroad program in time for the ceremony. It also gave them only three weeks to throw a wedding together. Thankfully, neither Emma nor Killian were big on grand ceremonies. 

The first item on Ingrid’s checklist was the venue. The bride and groom solved that easily: their own living room. Anna and Ingrid - and Elsa via Zoom - tried to protest that it was too small, but Emma just shrugged them off. 

“We can just pull out all the furniture and line up folding chairs. It’s not like we’re inviting that many people.”

Ingrid was concerned that the second item, the dress, would be impossible. Fate, however, seemed to be in their favor. Emma found a vintage dress that suited her personality perfectly at a thrift store downtown. She hadn’t even been dress shopping that day. Ingrid had taken her for ice cream after one of her prenatal appointments, and they had decided to stroll around the square with their ice cream cones. They were simply walking along the sidewalk, licking scoops of chocolate ice cream, and suddenly, there it was, displayed in a window. 

Emma wasn’t even sure it was meant to be a wedding dress, but it didn’t really matter. It was a cream colored, empire-wasted, sleeveless dress with one tier on the bottom of the long skirt. The fabric had a delicate floral pattern in light gold that shimmered when Emma moved. The top was a halter, which flattered Emma’s fuller bust due to her pregnancy. The empire waist also masked her growing baby bump and provided plenty of room in case she gained more in the next few weeks. When she tried it on, Ingrid started to cry. 

An employee stopped to admire Emma. “We just got that in yesterday,” she told her. “A woman told us it was her mother’s prom dress in 1976.”

Emma’s mouth fell open as she locked eyes with Ingrid. Her foster mother pressed her hands to her mouth and let out a happy squeak. 

“It’s fate, Emma,” she told her, and the two embraced. 

They left the store with the dress lovingly wrapped in its original box, having paid a whopping thirty-five dollars and seventy-five cents. 

 Every single item on Ingrid’s list was checked off with simple solutions by the bride and groom:

Killian’s tux? Well, if Emma was wearing a 70s prom dress from a thrift shop, Killian would find a thrift store suit, too.

The food? A potluck lunch would do just fine. 

The cake? The ones at the grocery store would do. As George Banks said in Father of the Bride, a cake is just flour, eggs, and sugar, right? Or something. 

The only thing Killian was concerned about was a place to live. Sure, he knew his brother and Ingrid would never kick them out, and there was at least a modicum of privacy in his attic suite. Still, it would be a little awkward, for one. More than that, however, was Killian’s pride. If he was really providing for Emma and the baby, he should be able to put a roof over their heads. 

His pride wouldn’t even allow him to go to his own brother with his concerns. Yet, Liam somehow knew anyway. Which was why he greeted Killian at the door one evening, a week and a half before the wedding, with a huge grin on his face and a slip of paper in his hand with an address on it. 

After hearing what Liam had to say, Killian raced eagerly up the stairs to Emma’s room with the good news. He came to a sudden stop in Emma’s open doorway, the smile falling from his face. She was sitting atop her bed, hugging a pillow, hastily wiping tears from her cheeks. Her mother’s journal rested atop the quilt beside her. 

“Hey,” Killian said softly as he entered the room, “what’s wrong?”

Emma slid over to make space for him on the bed, still trying to wipe the traces of tears from her cheeks. Killian picked up her mother’s journal as he made himself comfortable against the throw pillows along the headboard. Emma lifted his arm, put it around her shoulders, and tucked herself against him. 

“Is it the curse?”

She shook her head. “It’s my mom,” she told him softly.

He waited, rubbing her arm gently, and pressing his lips to the top of her head. Emma let out a shaky sigh before continuing.

“I wish I knew where she was. I’m getting married, and she doesn’t even know.”

Killian nodded but said nothing. Emma lifted her head just enough to look up at him. 

“Is it crazy that I wish she could be there?”

“Of course not. She’s your mother.”

“My insane, homeless, unpredictable mother who threw glass bottles at my head.”

Killian chuckled lightly. “True,” he tapped the green, cloth-covered notebook resting on the bedspread, “but I think reading her journal has given you a glimpse of the woman she was before. I think it’s made you realize, maybe for the first time, what you’ve lost.”

“That makes sense. I think I’m also worried that we haven’t heard from her in so long.”

Killian didn’t know what to say to ease her worries, so he cupped her face in his hand, tipped her chin up, and covered her lips with his. The kiss started gentle, intended simply to comfort, but then she responded so fervently and eagerly, that he lost himself. He shifted so she was beneath him, which caused a mewling sound to pass her lips that drove him wild. Emma slid her hand beneath his t-shirt, sending shivers up his spine as her fingers caressed his lower back. His hand grasped her waist, and his thumb slipped beneath the hem of her shirt. At the simple contact, Emma arched into him, and he began to trail kisses along her jawline. With one hand still on his back, her other hand threaded through his hair. She gasped when his lips trailed to the sensitive skin behind her ear, and something about the sound snapped him out of his haze of desire.

Killian pulled away abruptly and sat up, putting some distance between them. Emma still lay there on the bed, her face flushed, her hair splayed out on the pillows beneath her, a look of confusion marring her brow. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he said thickly, fixing his own mussed hair with shaking hands. 

“What for?” Emma asked indignantly, sitting up beside him. “We’re engaged.”

He turned to her and took her face gently in both hands. “I know. I love you, Emma, and I plan to cherish you. You deserve that. After everything you’ve been through, I’m not going to take you like this, hurried and frantic, thinking in the back of our minds that someone could interrupt us at any moment.”

Emma glanced sheepishly at the still open door and giggled. “Then close the door next time.”

He laughed with her and pulled her to him, holding her gently. He ran his fingers through her slightly tangled hair. 

“I want to make love to you. Slowly. Thoroughly.”

Emma shivered in his arms. “Are you trying to torture me on purpose?”

He laughed again. “I feel a bit tortured, myself, truth be told. But we only have a week and a half. Then we’ll have the time and the privacy we deserve.”

“Time maybe. But privacy?”

Killian pulled the forgotten slip of paper from his pocket. “Yes, privacy.”

Emma snatched it from his hand, looking at it curiously as she settled in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed. “An address?”

“Our address,” he told her, grinning broadly.

“For real?” Emma’s eyes widened.

“For real.”

Emma squealed and threw her arms around his neck. He laughed as she peppered kisses all over his face. 

“How?” she finally asked. 

“There’s a professor of archaeology taking a sabbatical to do a dig in Greece. He told Liam he was looking for someone to take care of his house while he’s gone. So it’s ours. For free.”

“For free?”

Killian shrugged. “Well, there are also some maintenance things on the house I’m agreeing to do for him free of charge, but basically.”

Emma gazed in shock and happiness at the paper in her hands. “It’s too good to be true.”

“It’s fate.”

Emma’s eyes shone with happy tears as she looked back up at him. “It really is.”

Killian was ready to throw caution to the wind and press Emma back down into the pillows when Ingrid appeared in the doorway. He was worried what she would say, seeing him on Emma’s bed, but Ingrid seemed too ecstatic to notice. 

“We’ve found her!” she told them. 

“Who?” Emma asked. 

“Your mom!”

[realest-nilou-kinnie]

every single time i'm reading anything about him, fan fiction or not, and someone describes him as lazy, i can't help but blurt out loud to myself, "he's not lazy" and sort of roll my eyes. It's in his character bio in the game for crying out loud: he doesn't see the point in trying anymore because every time he has ever tried in his life, he has been shot down and shown that nothing he does will ever matter.

self-indulgent elaboration under the cut

also, i would argue that it's about as clear as can be that he is "rude" on purpose to push people away...because he knows he was born in a silver spoon in his mouth and thinks he doesn't deserve people being nice to him. of COURSE he is snarky and snappy when he gets the chance, he WANTS people to stay away from him. He does NOT, however, want them to talk behind his back, i dont think. We know it hurts him. He doesn't want them to whisper that he's dangerous and he could probably kill everyone within a 50 foot radius with his UM at a moment's notice. Which is true. I think he's afraid of that possibility (and I believe in the novel it's described as being a volatile spell that other second princes have been effectively cursed with, and that he could accidentally kill people around him. That's why he grew up overhearing the palace servants whispering about the spell as if it was already a known UM.)

I know we don't know how he got his scar yet, other than it being something he clearly doesn't want to remember, but I can't help but wonder how he first "got" his UM. It isn't one he developed like Azul did, for example. He was born with that being the UM he would one day manifest. I definitely have ideas about how he got his scar and how it could relate to the advent of a Unique Magic like his, but I DO NOT think he killed or seriously hurt someone. I think the King's Roar spell has been popping up in previous generations of the Sunset Savanah royal family in second-born sons, and the people know it can lay waste to everything around the user. Even the things the user didn't touch or mean to affect start to turn to sand, like the air. Idk i just think his magic hasn't killed someone but I think he and everyone around him knows it could. From past experience, if you will. So maybe he showed signs of it being his UM and people FREAKED out as if he killed someone. That can be really damaging for a kid.

With this in mind, how could it be any clearer that he is trying to push people away? Now, allow me to be a blatant Leona Kisser on main (joke intended, that's my sideblog @leona-kingscholar-kisser LOL), but....HE'S NOT EVEN DOING THAT GOOD OF A JOB OF PUSHING PEOPLE AWAY. BECAUSE HE ISN'T A NATURAL AT IT!!!!! 😭😭😭😭 I'm not saying he craves connection, yet, because i haven't seen his part in book 7, but he definitely is not just meanspirited. He doesn't enjoy pushing people away, he feels that he has no choice in order to not hurt others. Isn't that the most selfless thing of all?

Knowing how he was treated as a child during his formative years, I'd say every glimpse of kindness and generosity and selflessness and passion for life he shows is indicative of someone who is all of those things even more so than it would be for someone who had no adverse childhood experiences. To me, the fact that he is all these things even in the face of the agony he must feel looking in the mirror every day means he is an even better person than someone who only does the right thing to earn praise and be celebrated. Character is doing the right thing even when no one is watching and all that.

I literally could write 50 paragraphs about him with MLA citations, but here is what i mainly wished to impress upon the part of twstblr whom i think are a wee bit confused about his characterization:

examples of Leona not being a massive sack of shit:

he pretends not to notice when Ruggie steals jewelry from him just about daily, but he doesn't outright give it to him because that would be too philanthropic for his image. He lets Ruggie think he's getting away with it. He doesn't want a "thank you" because he thinks he doesn't deserve it

he lets Ruggie bring his own laundry to be washed together with Leona's, while giving him his credit card to buy the nicest detergent and anything else he might want to buy at the Mystery Shop

the reason he doesn't wear his uniform jacket isn't because he just wants to break the dress code or make a statement, it's probably because he gave it to Ruggie. Hence why Ruggie's jacket is massive on him.

he skips his classes because he already knows everything they're teaching. he always shows up for tests, meaning he does keep track of when they are.

- personal note: he had all the NRC-level material drilled into him from a younger age than most as a prince. That level of focus on academics takes away time in your youth that you feel like your peers are spending having fun and having social lives. If i were him, going to classes where everyone around him got to learn something for the first time that he had been forced to memorize years ago would be really hard. It might be a reminder of how he had to grow up too soon. I personally relate a lot to being faced with the reality that every other student in your class didn't have the same amount of academic pressure put on them that you did and wanting to just curl up and cry at your desk. Being in classes where you already know everything or where other kids clearly have a lot less pressure on them can make you feel even more alone and hopeless and unloved than you already felt. it makes you grieve all the weeks and years of feeling like a workhorse instead of a child that you'll never get back. So i guess in that way I'm biased towards him and I completely support him skipping class :'3

he only got held back because of missed attendance. here are two important notes about that, in my opinion:

- firstly, he obviously doesn't want to go home. he also feels unenthusiastic about the 4th year internships even though he's going to take one in his home country and hopes to make some positive changes using his ideas. Still, he knows it will not come with the recognition and appreciation from his family he wants. Even if his ideas for oil mining fracking 🤮 bring great economic growth and can feed the children starving like Ruggie was, I doubt his older brother would see Leona for what he is or praise him as things stand now. hopefully that will come later in the story

- secondly, he wants to be held back and stay at NRC another year so his dorm can win the Spelldrive tournament against Diasomnia. He literally says that's the reason he is so desperate to for HIS TEAM (not him) to win that he puts himself in the position to be the bad guy and make the hard decisions he thinks he has to in Book 2! With the actual Spelldrive team, it's slightly different because Malleus isn't involved. It's interesting. In his Spelldrive Uniform home screen dialogues, he says winning is more important than doing your best... because he thinks his team wouldn't be happy with coming in second even knowing they did their best. I think he is blinded by self-hatred. I don't think what he seems to think is actually true. I think Epel and Jack and Ace and all the Savanaclaw members who bawled their eyes out when they thought he was turned into a Tsum are just happy to receive guidance from him. That makes him different from Azul or Kalim or Idia as housewardens, for example. They literally cry lollll. He knows all his Spelldrive players and they literally never shut the fuck up about how good of a coach he is and how attentive he is to their strengths and weaknesses. He doesn't even try to change them! He doesn't insult or belittle Epel when he wants to train to aim better, he literally just compliments how he is a great player in other ways and tells him not to change a thing. For no reason, bitch. He's such a fucking softie.

he buys us a drink in one of his chats, saying he "knows how to reward good service 😒". oh come on bro you're not fooling anyone, you probably weren't even thirsty anyway

he only went to Playful Land to keep an eye on the underclassmen because he's always like that. smfh

finally, if you pay close attention, he's really only rude to people who disrespect him first. OR to people who try to drag him into annoying shenanigans he doesn't want to be involved with. if someone did all that to me during a depressive episode i'd bite their head off, too -- which is every day because i have major clinical treatment-resistant depression and i feel like i know how he feels. i get where he's coming from :( and then they all STILL call him lazy. that is so fucking mean and hurtful. he is doing what he can. he's just sick. he is enough.

okay that's all i can think of right now i just really wanted to elaborate because AHHHHHHH. AAUUGHHHHH. EEEEEUEUUUUUUUUUUAUAG HE IS NOT LAZY AND HES NOT A DICK HE JUST HATES HIMSELF AND NONE OF IT IS HIS FAULT

and while i'm on the subject, Leona is actually NOT lazy or arrogant or selfish at all but some of yall are not ready for that conversation lol