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musings-of-a-rose · 2 days ago

Note

Could I request Benny x female reader where they engage in mutual masturbation and they make out throughout?

Touch

Pairing: Benny Miller x best friend f!reader

Word Count: 1900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: Listen. This was a hot ask. I'll admit, I had to think on this one a bit (and that was mostly staring at the wall). A huge thanks to @mermaidxatxheart as usual for listening to my Ted Talks and insecurities.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

“The date went bad I take it?” Benny’s eyebrows are raised as he motions for me to come inside his apartment. He closes the door behind me as I huff.

“He kept taking out his phone and texting. His mom. He was giving her a play by play of our date.”

Benny chuckled. “What? During your date?”

I kick off my heels and set them on his shoe mat. “I’m all for strong family bonds, but maybe wait until after the date? I could barely talk to him. It was literally every 2 minutes.”

Benny chuckled again. “Well I’m sorry it sucked. You’re welcome to come finish this terrible movie I’m watching.”

I follow Benny to his couch, plopping down next to him. We’d been best friends for years. He was always someone I could count on to be there for me, good or bad. He never judged or questioned me, but somehow always seemed to have an answer to my problems. He hands me a drink and offers me some popcorn from the giant bowl in his lap. I grab a handful and watch whatever b horror movie is on the tv.

“Ugh even the ugly ass monster in this bad movie is getting laid why can’t I?”

Benny coughs, choking a little on his popcorn. “What?”

Fuck, I said that out loud.

“I uh…nothing.”

He takes a swig from his drink, clearing the last of the popcorn. “Afraid no one will touch you again?”

I groan, but I’m also desperate for advice. “No. Well…maybe. It’s not even sex. I just want someone to touch me again. Someone that’s not me or Henry Cavill.”

Benny laughs, his head flying back. “You know Henry Cavill?”

I can feel the heat on my cheeks, but I’ve already said it. “That’s…that’s the name of my vibrator.” His laughter is contagious and I can’t stop myself from smiling. He makes some quips about it and then something happens in the movie that captures our attention.

“I can help you with that if you’d like.”

My head snaps in his direction. “What?” Did he just offer to…surely not.

He turns his head, his bright blue eyes boring into mine, a sparkle in them. “I can help you with your problem.”

Heat burns my cheeks and I’m grasping at words. Surely he doesn’t mean…he can’t…without thinking, I glance down at his hands, the grip on his bottle, and how small it looks in them. I swallow hard.

“Ben, be serious.”

He leans forward, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly as he places his bottle on the coffee table before sitting back, casually laying an arm across the back of the couch as if he didn’t just suggest shoving his hand down my pants.

“I’m serious, sweetheart. Look, you’ve had a really rough go of it. And I would make sure you were taken care of. You’re too pent up. Let some steam out.”

I shift slightly in my seat, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. It’s not that I’ve never thought about it. Benny is extremely attractive. I just never would ever think he’d be ok with that with me. For me? I can’t even think.

“Ben…I can’t lose your friendship. That would break me.”

He extends a long finger from the hand that’s across the back of the couch and pokes my head. “Do you think I’d ever let that happen?”

I swat at his hand out of reflex. “Is that something we could control though?”

He thinks for a moment. “It’s us. We’re best friends. We take care of each other. I think we’d be fine.”

“But what if it changes everything?”

He takes my hand in his large one, completely engulfing me. He looks into my eyes and does that thing where his eyebrows pull together and makes me melt. “I promise to not let it change the way I feel about you. Do you promise?”

Could I make that promise? The not-so-minor crush I’ve harbored for him for years is begging. Your feelings won’t change because you already like him.

“How would…I mean, what would you…”

Benny shifts to face me better. “I’d touch you however you need me to. Maybe make out a little bit if you need to be distracted.”

I press my thighs together, hoping that he didn’t notice. But judging by the way he shifts and his eyes darken slightly, I think he very much noticed. Pressing my thighs together did nothing to quell the heat, my body begging me to just let me be touched. I feel safe with Benny and I know he’d never cross a line. My skin is hot thinking about it and I finally cave, promising myself that we’d still be friends. Just friends that gave each other a hand sometimes.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I nod, moving to undo the button on my pants. Benny reaches out and stills my hand with his own and I look up at him.

“I need you to say it out loud, sweetheart.”

I swallow hard, trying my best to give him eye contact. Were his eyes always so blue?

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what? I need specifics.”

I let out a huff and this fucker chuckles. “Touch me, Benny. I..want you to touch me.”

Benny scoots closer to me on the couch, his leg pressed against mine. His large hand cups my cheek as he dips his head close to mine, his breath puffing out over my face, fanning the anticipatory fire between my thighs. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

“Yes.”

I barely get it out before his lips are on mine, soft but guiding, his tongue gently probing at my lips. I open them and his tongue slides inside my mouth, gracefully dancing with my own as he moans slightly into me. Both of his hands are on my face now, cupping my cheeks as he continues to kiss me. Then one moves to the back of my head, slightly gripping my hair as he tips my head back, exposing my neck to him. I gasp as his teeth skirt along my skin, gently nipping and kissing along my pulse point. The hand that isn’t entangled in my hair starts to glide down my body, barely even fumbling as he unbuttons my pants. But he doesn’t touch me. Not yet. Over my jeans, he caresses my inner thighs as I spread my legs, tracing the line where my underwear sits, up and down, up and down, driving me mad. My heart is racing, pounding against my ears. I feel him pause just above my mound and I want to cry.

“Can you slide your pants off for me?” He breathes into my ear. My hands fumble as I try to shove and kick my pants off, ignoring the smirk on Benny’s face as the pants land somewhere across the room.

“Panties too. Promise I won’t look.” He covers his face, a large gap between his fingers where his eye is obviously looking out.

“Don’t you need to see?”

He closes the gap in his fingers but keeps his eyes covered. “Nope. Your sounds will guide me to where I need to be.”

Fuck. Me.

I toss my underwear somewhere by my pants. “Ok I’m-”

I have no time to think because he’s back on me, kissing me hard, like he’s never needed anything so bad. My fingers tangle in his hair, the cool air from his apartment hitting my bare skin, but I don’t care. Benny’s large hand is on my inner thighs again, tracing circles, but also pushing them open. I keep them where he leaves them, my body practically shaking with anticipation.

One long finger slides down me and I jolt, my thighs trying to close, but he pushes them back open before resuming his touch. He slides all the way down to my entrance, gently tracing circles there and I gasp, my eyes still closed as I let myself get lost in his touch. Our foreheads are pressed together, his own breaths coming out a little more ragged as he drags his dampened finger back up me, pausing when my legs jump. He takes his time at this spot, small circles across my clit, fast and slow, fast and slow, my breaths coming out in small, fast pants.

He slows his movements, gently pushing a finger inside me. I moan, louder as he pulls out and adds a second finger, curling them inside of me as he moves them in and out. One spot has me gasping his name and that’s where he stays, curling and rubbing inside of me as his thumb resumes circling my clit, slow and fast, gentle and harder, the pressure building quick and fast. I grip his wrist and he stills.

“Can I touch you? I want you to come with me.”

He nods and I move my hand over and undo his button, sliding his zipper down gently. He’s already hard, straining against his boxers. I lower them enough for him to spring free and he grunts. I grip his wrist again and pull his hand out of me with a whimper, but then slide him back in and out, fucking myself with his hand a few times as he moans in my ear. Then I take his wet hand and rub it against my palm, dropping his hand back on me before gripping him with my slicked hand. He whimpers, swearing under his breath before he pushes his fingers inside me again, immediately resuming the slow curling and rubbing, his thumb pressing gently on my clit. I slowly work him up and down, squeezing harder and softer, matching my pace to his. He kisses me hard but then breaks it, our foreheads pressed together as we pant and moan.

In some super move, he pushes me onto my back, his hand still firmly working me over, my legs spread wide as he settles between them, fucking his hips into my hand. His arm strains next to me as he holds himself up, curling his fingers a little deeper, swirling a little more and I can’t hold back anymore. I cum, his name tumbling from my lips in praise, my legs twitching as I pulse around his fingers. Another few presses of his hips and Benny grunts, small pants coming from him as he spills himself over my stomach, my shirt hiked up to my chest. We stay like that for several long moments, both of us trying to catch our breaths. His eyes open and meet mine, holding my gaze for a moment before he blinks, pulling his hand from me as he sits up. He tucks himself back in as he looks around, shrugs, then reaches behind him and pulls his shirt up and over his head. He drops his shirt on my cunt, using the sleeve to clean off my stomach, to hold up his promise of not looking. He glances down and picks up my underwear and pants, handing them to me as he turns his head away. I make sure I’m cleaned off before getting dressed, sitting back down on the couch, the movie still playing on in the background. Minutes pass in silence between us, my stomach twisting in knots with every passing second.

Benny clears his throat. “So…are we never talking about this again or can I finally take you on a date?”

My eyes snap up to him, his already on me. There’s no pressure here, he’d be ok if I said we’re never talking about it again. But that’s not what I want.

“Just so long as we can have dessert at home.”

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi

@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso

@theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz

@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox

@amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed

@ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol

@mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk

#benny miller #ben miller #benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #benny miller x f!reader #triple frontier #garrett hedlund #benjamin miller #benjamin benny miller #garrett hedlund x reader #garrett hedlund x you #garrett hedlund characters #garrett hedlund character fanfic #garrett hedlund character ff #garrett hedlund character fanfiction

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incorrect-green-lantern-quotes · 1 day ago

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Hey! Just wanna say im really glad i found this account ive been getting into green lantern comics recently and your page is a godsend.Aside from that its one of the few that isnt overrun with batman/batfam content propinng him or his orphan child soliders by putting down other dc characters..so i was curious if you knew any dc fanfics that portray the lanterns as competent and or calling bruce out on his bullshit ( sorry if my text is a bit jumbled english isnt my first language)

I'm glad you like my content!

Tbh the fanfiction situation for Green Lanterns is just as bad as it is on Tumblr, if not worse. So a few of these fics are going to be bat-centric, but I've specifically selected those that I feel actually respect and understand the GLs instead of flanderizing them to be stupid assholes.

I've tagged the authors whose Tumblr usernames I could find in the fic or their AO3 profiles. If you're one of the authors I haven't tagged, just let me know and I'll edit the post to add you.

But without further ado, the GL contents of my bookmarks in no particular order:

Fics where the Bats are uninvolved or only play a minor role

In the end, we all bleed Green. by @catboyollie (series) - a collection of GL shortfics

Kink Meme #5 by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic) - my all-time favorite Guy Gardner fic

Friendship, Ice Cream, and Green Lanterns by MildlyRebelliousMint - GLs hanging out after a battle

Family is What You Make Of It by @exasperatedfey - in which Hal has to bail his fellow GLs out of jail

In Case of Emergency by @susanphoenix - Kilowog’s been adopted by the Earth heroes as the GL to go to if they can’t find the earth lanterns. No one told him that.

i ate up all the light by @effietrinket1619 - Six times Hal was there for a fellow GL (and one time they're there for him). TW for roofie

Good Cop/Bad Cop by @meduseld - shortfic of Hal being a scary mf

Adrift by @rose-cake - Simon and Jessica are partners. That word has multiple meanings. Minor Simon/Jessica

These Mountains by pastelplastic - Superman meets Tomar-Re, the Green Lantern who failed to save Krypton

Justice League's most wanted fugitive: Hal Jordan by Panamic - The Justice League are trying to find Green Lantern. Hal does not want to be found by the JL. Shenanigans ensue

No Rest for a Superhero by Crimson_Crystal - Kyle sacrifices sleep to finish an art commission and crashes

A Mind Of His Own by @wolfsbanesparks - The Justice League finds out Captain Marvel is actually a kid, and Hal is the only one who still treats him like a fellow hero

The Goddess of Petty Annoyances by @galahadwilder - Jessica invades Apokolips specifically to annoy Darkseid. Crack

Shooting for the Stars by @green-lanterns-c0ck - Guy in his yellow ring era bumbles into saving a galaxy far far away. Crack crossover with Star Wars

Hal & Kyle fics (there's enough of these that they warrant their own category)

Luminance by @lanternwisp - Hal slowly realizing he thinks of Kyle as a son

trajectory from me to you by @softpunks - deaged!Kyle thinks Hal is his dad

the moldy cup is not a metaphor by MildlyRebelliousMint - Kyle calls Hal "dad" and Hal goes to visit Barry, totally not freaking out

friendly fields and open roads by @ufonaut - Hal returned to life and feels like shit. Kyle comes seeking a mentor.

ship in a bottle by @hopeworth - Two former hosts of Parallax meet up for brunch

Fics involving Bats that respect Green Lanterns

we're in the mellow mayhem together (series) by lunaratlasky - Jason seeks out Hal whenever he wants to piss off Bruce

Emergency Line (series) by @crucifixinhell - jason looked at hal once and went "you seem like good dad material"

For Whom We'd Give Blood (series) by Boogalee99 - How Hal Jordan becomes the favorite uncle of the batfam

There's Always Another One by lapsedpacifist - Dick gets fired and decides to crash at Hal's place

To Overcome Fear (ongoing) by @dc-sideblog - Stephanie gets fired and Kyle decides that if the Bats don't want a perfectly good superhero, the Green Lanterns definitely do

Disclosure by @aj-artjunkyard - Maybe Hal isn't as at peace with a certain android's death as he thought he was... and maybe he's not alone in his grief either.

Stars in a Paint-Filled Sky by @thenaphorism - Kyle has to explain to the Justice League why he has a Red Hood/Troia tramp stamp

because you know better by @matchahater - Ion and Red Hood contemplate the ethics of resurrection

catch the asteroids that come your way by @thepackwantsthed - the only JayKyle fic that I've ever liked

Justice League International - Spoiled! by @secretlystephaniebrown - Guy Gardner, Crystal Brown's childhood neighbor and best friend, ends up taking in her daughter Stephanie after an unexpected turn of events.

the superhero game (ongoing) by Nyame - Jason Todd Peggy Sue longfic ft. a near-omnipotent White Lantern

I'm gonna pin this post and update it as I encounter more fics I like, so drop some recommendations in the comments for me and everyone else!

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justagalwhowrites · 1 day ago

Text

Halcyon - Ch. 21: That's Been a Long Time Comin', Baby

You and Joel have a long overdue conversation. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 20, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Nothing really! Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 4.3k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter

“You finally get arrested and it’s by goddamn rent-a-cops,” Tommy was beaming as he and Joel made their way from the police station to his truck. “Only you could make gettin’ in trouble this fuckin’ lame.”

“It wasn’t a rent-a-cop,” Joel said, grinding his teeth. “It was university police.”

“That’s a rent-a-cop.”

“They’re real police!” Joel said.

Tommy scoffed.

“Not like you’re gonna have a record now.”

“Only because they let me go without charging me with shit,” Joel said. “No idea why… Shouldn’t have even called you, wasn’t trying to waste your time.”

“Not like you knew they were going to just let you go,” Tommy said, serious now. “I was Googling attorneys and shit, I thought I was going to have to bail your ass out for a change. Nice that they didn’t lock you up.”

“Yeah,” Joel said as they reached Tommy’s truck. They got in and buckled up and Joel sighed, looking out the window. “Just wish I knew why.”

He was at a loss. The police had hauled him out of your office so fast he didn’t even get a chance to find out what you were thinking, if you had anything at all to say. If he was right about the book, God he hoped he was right about the book.

He thought - or maybe just hoped - that you’d show up at the police station. They threw him in a holding cell with a few college-aged fuckups and he watched the door, half convinced that you’d come walking in. Like if he just stared at it long enough you’d appear, come inside and walk right up to the bars and grab him and kiss him. Or at least yell at him.

But you didn’t.

Instead, he just stood there, watching the door, until a cop came over to take his information and gave him the chance to call someone. Tommy got there about the same time as the same cop came over to tell Joel that he was free to go, at least for now.

“So,” Tommy said eventually, drumming his hands on the steering wheel. “You gonna tell me exactly how you got your ass arrested by rent-a-cops?”

Joel quirked his jaw.

“Not saying you have to or anything,” Tommy continued. “But if you don’t tell me I will just make up some shit and it’ll be lame. Real lame. Like they caught you with a flask on campus and mistook you for a freshman lame.”

“I…” Joel sighed. “I might have done something stupid.”

“Likely thing for you to do,” Tommy said.

“Fuck off.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Tommy said. “I’ll lay off but… c’mon, man. This is weird for you. You got me worried, you don’t do shit like this.”

“I know,” Joel said, wondering if maybe he’d done something like this sooner - like when he saw that fucking guy kissing you years ago - maybe everything would be different now. “I… I read Goldie’s book.”

“Alright…” Tommy said, glancing his way. “Last time I checked, that ain’t illegal.”

“It’s not,” Joel said. “But… I’d never read it before and… Look, maybe I’m crazy, maybe it’s all fiction but it don’t feel like fiction and… I think she… she might… she might feel the same way I do.”

“Oh shit,” Tommy laughed, grinning like an idiot. “Fuck yeah, man!”

“I went to talk to her,” Joel said. “But she was there with her fucking husband and I overheard one of her students say he hit on her and then I went to her office and he was kissing her and I… I just… I punched him.”

“Good for you!” Tommy clapped him on the shoulder. “About damn time somebody put that jackass in his place. What’d Goldie say?”

“Not much,” Joel sighed. “Not like we got a chance to really talk. Said the book was ancient history, asked why I cared… Kept hoping she’d show up at the station but…”

Tommy pulled up alongside Joel’s truck and he sighed.

“Least I wasn’t locked up when I needed to get Sarah from school,” he muttered.

“Don’t matter,” Tommy said. “I’m gonna go get her.”

“What?” Joel laughed.

“Not going to let you chicken out on this shit,” Tommy said. “I got Sarah, you go talk to Goldie. Actually talk to her, not yell some shit at her and then punch her husband. You’re finally - fucking finally - doing something about it. You’re finally going after what you want and I’m not going to let you give up because you got arrested by some mall cop on steroids.”

“Tommy…”

“I’m serious,” Tommy said. “I’ll get Sarah from school, she can stay with me tonight. Go get your girl, Joel.”

Joel smiled a little. His brother might have more faith in him than he deserved but goddamn, it felt good.

“Alright,” Joel said. “I’m gonna go get my girl.”

He went to call you, just in case you unblocked him, but his phone was broken, the entire outer case bent - probably from when one of the cops wrestled him away from your office. He considered, for a minute, just going back to your office but he didn’t want to get arrested again.

So he went home, just to grab your book. He wasn’t really sure why but he wanted it. He wanted to hold it in his hands, have something solid and yours there with him while he did this. He took a quick look in the mirror, feeling a little like the boy he was when he went to pick you up for prom. Everything felt so consequential, the way his hair fell against his forehead and the way his shirt hung on his body, anything that might help you look at him like he was something worth wanting suddenly vitally important in his reflection.

“Right,” he said to no one but himself before taking a deep breath. “Now or never.”

He drove to your house. He thought about getting flowers or something on the way but what if that was too much? What if this wasn’t what you wanted and something like flowers made it worse? Why didn’t he just know what to do? Loving you felt like the most natural thing in the world, why wasn’t telling you just as easy?

He came to your door with nothing but your book in his hands and he was pretty sure you weren’t home but he knocked, anyway. He paced for a minute when you didn’t answer, then stood there, clenching his jaw and staring out at the road like a dumbass before he decided to just sit down and wait because what the fuck else was he going to do.

After what felt like forever - but probably wasn’t much time at all - Joel opened the book.

He wasn’t looking for anything in particular but he found himself lingering on the parts where Cressida and Eli were together and, if not happy, at least hopeful. He was reading a passage where they were all tangled up in each other and while it was sensual, the intimacy of it came from the deep knowing and understanding the two shared. It was a feeling, Joel thought, that could only be found in one person. He’d spent half his life searching for it again and never found it and he wanted it, he wanted it so bad it hurt.

“When you said you read it, I assumed it was the whole thing, not just the first 50 pages.”

Joel’s head shot up from the book and found you standing on your walk with your house keys in your hand.

He jumped up, snapping the book shut when he did.

“I did,” he said. “I was just… I wanted to read it again. Parts of it again.”

You nodded slowly and walked up to him, stopping close enough that he could reach out and grab you and kiss you if you’d just let him.

“I tried calling,” you said. “It went straight to voicemail.”

“Oh, uh,” Joel passed the book from one hand to the other and pulled his phone out, holding it up as proof. “It broke, probably when I got arrested but… well, since you blocked my number, wasn’t too worried about it.”

You frowned, eyebrows knitting together.

“Blocked you? I didn’t block you.”

“Think you did,” Joel laughed a little. “Believe it or not, turning up at your office wasn’t my first choice but I got a message that said your number was unavailable when I called so…”

Your frown deepened and you pulled out your phone, scrolling on it for a moment before gaping at the screen.

“Son of a bitch,” you swore. “That…” You looked at Joel again. “I didn’t block you, I’m guessing Gale did sometime in the last few days…”

“Where is your husband?” Joel asked, looking over your shoulder. “Not gonna let me get another swing on him is he?”

You laughed once.

“He’s at the hospital,” you said. “I don’t think he’ll be showing his face here any time too soon.”

“Good,” Joel said. “You deserve better than that asshole.”

You smiled tightly.

“What are you doing here, Joel.”

“I…” he searched your face for some indication of what you thought, what you wanted, but even though he knew your face better than any other he couldn’t seem to read you. “I needed to see you, I had to see you, baby, I…”

You bit your lip and he fought the urge to pull it free of your teeth and run his thumb over you there.

“Let’s go inside,” you said. “We… we can talk. Just talk. If that’s OK.”

His heart beat a little faster. He could work with that.

“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Let’s talk.”

***

Your heart was pounding, so hard and fast you thought Joel must be able to hear it.

But if he could, he didn’t say anything. You just let the two of you into your house and tried to force yourself to stay calm, to not let your racing thoughts get too far ahead of yourself.

You hadn’t expected to find him on your front porch when you got home. You’d called him. You’d called the police station again but he’d left by then. You’d even tried going by his house but no one was home and you had this sinking feeling that you’d blown it, somehow. Not that you even knew what ‘it’ was but it seemed as though the moment in your office was a breaking point you didn’t know existed and it was behind you now and there was nothing you could do to get it back.

And then Joel was there on your porch, a copy of your book in his hands, one that he was reading so intently he hadn’t even noticed you drive up.

You hung your bag on a hook and put your keys in the dish by the door and Joel followed behind you, his eyes intent enough on you that you could feel them even at your back.

“Can I get you a drink or anything?” You asked, more for something to say than anything else because what the fuck were your supposed to say in this situation?

“Not here for a drink, Goldie.”

“OK,” you said, turning to face him as you stood in the middle of your living room because sitting down felt too strange. You crossed your arms over your chest to keep from touching him. “Why are you here, Joel?”

“I read your book,” he said quickly. “And I know it took me long enough but I just couldn’t… I thought it was gonna be about you and that fucking guy but it wasn’t and… Goldie, I need to know if it was about us.”

Your fingers dug into your arms as you tightened your grip on yourself, your stomach churning.

“What does it matter if it was?” You asked. “I didn’t need to ask your permission to write about my own life, that’s not how that works and…”

“No, Jesus,” he cut you off. “I… I don’t care, you can write about whatever you want with me but Goldie, is this how you felt? Back then, when we were kids, was this -” he held up the book “-how you felt?”

You frowned and looked at the book. It was signed, your signature broad and looping on the dust jacket.

“Where did you get that?” You asked. “I never signed a copy for you…”

He lowered the book, looking at the cover for a moment before looking back at you.

“I bought it online,” he said. “Some charity auction thing, years ago. I… I wanted a copy that felt more like it came from you. Stop changing the subject, please, and just… we have to actually fucking talk about this, baby, we can’t keep avoiding it forever because it hurts. Please. It’ll wreck us both.”

“Yes, OK?” You said, louder and more forcefully than you’d really meant to and you had to take a breath to calm down, closing your eyes because you weren’t sure you could look at him and admit this. “Yes, that… that’s how I felt.”

“Goldie…”

“Please don’t make this a thing, Joel,” you said, looking toward your windows because anywhere was better than looking at him. “Please don’t.”

But he didn’t let you turn away from him. Instead, he closed the small gap between you and took your face firmly in his large hand, his grip on you tight.

“Goldie,” he said softly. “Look at me.”

You steeled yourself and obeyed, tears already starting to build and you tried to hold them back as best you could.

“Do you still feel that way?” He asked quietly.

“Don’t do this to me, Joel,” you whispered. “Please.”

“Don’t do what?” He asked, his eyes tracing your face again and again.

“Don’t ask me to…” you took a deep, shaky breath. “Don’t ask me to be the one to ruin everything. I can’t…”

“I love you,” he cut you off. “There, now it ain’t you, it’s me.”

“Joel…”

“I love you,” he said it again. “I’ll keep saying it, I don’t care. I love you. I loved you then, too, and…”

You pulled yourself away from him, shaking your head, desperate for some distance. It didn’t make sense, none of this made sense.

“Don’t do that, don’t lie to me because you feel guilty or whatever,” you said, tears falling now. “I know how you felt, Joel, I heard you. If… if things changed, then… then maybe we can… I don’t know, but don’t lie and tell me that I was anything to you back then, alright? I know it was forever ago now, I know we were kids, but it still hurts, OK? It hurts, it hurts every fucking time I look at you but I just keep living with it because you’re worth it to me and-”

He grabbed you and kissed you then, harsh and rough and forceful and your body bowed to his instinctively, curving and arching into his touch, kissing him back desperately before you remembered what you were doing here and pulled back from him. Your eyes were wide, lips swollen, cheeks wet and Joel was panting for breath, watching you.

“Don’t do that!” You shook his hands from you and wiped your mouth with the back of your wrist. “Stop trying to distract me, stop treating me like I’m just some girl you fuck, just stop!”

“That’s not what I’m doin’, baby,” he said. His voice was calm, sure. “Swear I’m not.”

“Then what were you doing in your kitchen?” You demanded, trying to make yourself calm down and failing. “After Sarah’s party, what were you doing then?”

Joel looked like he was trying not to smile.

“What!” You demanded.

“You love me, too,” he said.

“Joel.”

“S’why you’re all worked up,” he said. “I love you and you love me, too. I’ll feel better when you actually say it, but…”

You shook your head, your heart beating a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

“You’re being mean,” you said.

“I’m not trying to be,” he said. “I love you.”

“Stop saying that.”

“No,” he said. “I love you.”

“Then why would you do that?” You cried. “Why did you treat me like I was just… just…”

“Just what, baby.”

“Just a warm body!” You said.

“Baby…”

“That’s what it felt like!” You kept going, on a tear now. “That’s what it felt like back then when you avoided me and you told your friend how it would have been better if you’d fucked anyone besides me, that’s what it felt like every time you avoided me because you caved to whatever baser instinct you had and touched me a few months ago, that’s what it felt like when you practically fucked me in your kitchen and made it sound like all we were to each other was some way to get off and that might be true for you, Joel, but it was never that way for me!

“And it’s pathetic! Because when we were kids, I felt so bad for all the girls you’d fuck and leave. I pitied them! I thought they were so desperate and sad and then I turned into one of them! And I… I just…”

“Just what,” Joel said softly.

“I just…” your voice broke and your eyes met his. “I can’t be nothing to you, Joel. I can’t.”

“Oh baby,” he said, so gently. He delicately took your face in his hands and dried your tears, thumbs curving over the arch of your cheekbones. “You’re everything.”

You rolled your eyes and looked away, scoffing.

“Joel…”

“You gonna let me talk for a minute?” He asked, brows raised, his hands moving to your shoulders. “Because I think we need to.”

You sniffed and gritted your teeth for a moment but you nodded, anyway.

“Well, you’re a lot smarter than me but you’re wrong about a lot,” he said. You opened your mouth to protest but he gave you a look and you closed it again and he smiled a little. “Thank you. Promise I’ll let you yell at me once this is all out, alright?”

You just sniffled and nodded again.

“I have loved you since that day on the football field almost 20 goddamn years ago,” he said. Your heart beat faster. “Pretty sure the first time I saw you holdin’ that damn gold notebook of yours I was a goner. I was just… I was young and dumb - still pretty dumb to be honest…”

“Shut up,” you shoved him lightly. “You’re not dumb.”

“No, I am,” he said. “Because I let my fear and my insecurity keep me from telling you all of this years ago. You were so smart and talented and driven and even then, I knew you were going to be something. Figured there wasn’t a chance in hell that you’d want someone like me so why would I try. All I’d do was fuck up what we had. But then prom happened and I panicked.”

“You said anyone would have been better than me,” you said softly, searching his face for some sign that he was sugar coating this in some way. “I heard you…”

“I know,” he said. “I didn’t know you’d heard me then but I know what I said. Took me a while to remember it after you told me but I did and… Look, I know… I know you think I was sleeping with those girls back in high school but… I wasn’t.”

You frowned.

“What?”

“Prom night…” he sighed, wincing a little as he did. “That… that was my first time, too.”

You looked at him like you were waiting for a punch line but none came.

“But…” you shook your head. “You… You dated all those girls then and…”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Yeah, I was tryin’ to get my best friend out of my system. Didn’t work so well for me in the end and then all I really had going for me was that you thought I was cool and when you assumed I was sleeping with those girls I just… didn’t tell you you were wrong.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” You were so close to him you were sure he could hear your heart racing.

“Well, that meant that I didn’t know anything about sex besides porn and the bullshit they taught us in school,” he said. “So I went to talk to Ricky because I thought he’d actually know how to handle that shit and tell me how to handle it and… I was afraid, baby. I was afraid I got you pregnant, that I ruined your life and that’s why I said it. I didn’t want to fuck things up for you, I didn’t want to trap you with me when you deserved so much better than that. It wasn’t because I didn’t want you and it wasn’t because I didn’t love you. It’s because I loved you so goddamn much that I freaked out at just the thought of fucking your life up.”

“Joel,” you whispered, your heart racing.

“I never thought you’d just leave like that,” he said. “I thought… I thought I’d be able to talk to you, once I had a plan, once I knew I could make it all OK, once I stopped freaking the fuck out, I thought we could talk and figure it out.”

You just stared at him, open mouthed, for a moment.

“I…” you managed eventually. “I didn’t…”

“I know,” he said softly, gently.

“I thought you didn’t care about me,” you said, almost choking on the knot in your throat. “I… I thought you saw me as some stupid, geeky girl who you just… I don’t know, got stuck with one day and I couldn’t… I couldn’t face that so I left, I went to school early and…”

“I know,” he said again before he laughed once, darkly. “I know. I… I went to find you.”

“What?” You asked.

“Back then,” he said. “Eventually wore Anna down, she told me where you went and… well… I went to find you. Talk to you. Didn’t think you’d just pick up if I called your new number, figured you couldn’t ignore me if I showed up.”

“But,” you frowned. “I’d remember you coming to Brown…”

“I’m sure you would,” he nodded. “But you never saw me. I saw you, though. You were with him. I couldn’t take that, either, so I left.”

“Oh my God,” you whispered, your eyes searching his, so open and honest. “You loved me.”

He smiled a little, one of his crooked smiles, just enough to make his cheek dimple.

“Yeah,” he said. “I loved you with your weirdly good breakfast sandwiches and too much cream in your coffee and your smart-ass movie commentary and your obsession with dippin’ French fries in Blizzards - which is still an abomination, by the way.”

You laughed wetly.

“Joel,” your hands found his waist, fingers tightening in his shirt.

“Never stopped loving you, baby,” he said, taking your face gently in his hand. “Not since the day I met you, not for one second. Figured I was kind of a lost cause in that department, after a while. Thought I’d have to settle for whatever little piece of you you’d give me but now… well, now I’m hopin’ that book means you feel the same way.”

You couldn’t seem to find your voice so you just nodded, fast and sure and he laughed, sounding almost giddy, before he smiled, big and broad and all encompassing, like you’d just given him the world.

“Think I can try somethin’ I’ve been wanting to do for about 20 damn years?” He asked. You just nodded, still speechless, and Joel stepped closer to you, closing what little gap there was between your bodies. The hand not against your cheek went to the small of your back and he cradled you to him, his eyes searching yours, his nose brushing your own. You could feel every line of his body against your own and your breath hitched, his gaze locked on yours until the last second, your eyes closing just as your lips met.

You’d kissed Joel plenty before, more times than you could possibly count, but it had never been like this. Every other time your lips had touched his, it had been with some pretense attached - because he was rescuing you from your shitty husband or to make you feel better about being alone on New Year’s or as the build up toward some physical release. You’d never gotten to kiss him because you loved him, you’d never gotten to kiss him because he loved you.

It was slow, gentle, patient, like you had all the time in the world instead carrying the undertones of something illicit. He was soft and warm, his hands against you like you were a delicate, precious thing. Your lips moved with his, your mouth opening along with his, just enough that you could taste him, breathe him, feel some part of him settle inside of you with a grounding certainty. He loved you. Joel loved you.

Your arms looped around behind him, holding him close but not too tight - you knew he wasn’t going anywhere, not this time - and you kissed him the way you always wanted to kiss the love of your life.

Eventually, breathlessly, you pulled away from each other, just enough to look into each other’s eyes again before you both laughed a little, bodies still pressed close.

“That’s been a long time comin’ baby,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “It really has.”

“Think I can take you to bed?” He asked. “Think we have some lost time to make up for.”

You just smiled and laced your fingers with his before leading your best friend to your room.

A/N: I sincerely hope the end of this chapter wasn't a let down! I'd originally intended for them to sleep together in the same chapter as the confession but SO MUCH got laid on the table here it felt like adding their first time having honest, loving sex would be too much all at once, you know? But that is coming up next, I promise.

Special shout out to @dancingtotuyo, @dundienominee and @mysticnightmarewrites for helping me figure out how to close this chapter.

Hopefully, this conversation was at least somewhat worth the wait! Thank you for still being here, a small eternity after I started writing this story. I really do love you all so much!

Taglist: @kaseyconnour

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #halcyon #joel miller x oc

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rafesbowbunny · 2 days ago

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𝜗𝜚 farmgirl!reader surprises stableboy!rafe with a picnic

c!w; basically none... fluff ! yippee! soft!rafe !

notes; first actual farmgirl!reader fic yayay ( someone take my tumblr away before i make too many !readers. i'm obsessed. )

the sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the sprawling fields. the scent of wildflowers mingled with the earthy smell of freshly tilled soil as you tugged rafe’s hand, practically dragging him behind you. his larger frame followed reluctantly, boots crunching against the grass, his gruff protests falling on deaf ears.

“what’s the rush?” he grumbled, his deep voice tinged with amusement, though he made no effort to pull away. “i’ve got chores to finish, y'know.”

you glanced back at him, rolling your eyes as you tightened your grip on his calloused hand. “you’re always working,” you shot back. “besides, you’ll like this. just trust me, okay?”

he huffed, his expression skeptical but curious. “’m not sure i like surprises,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

the field stretched wide before you, its gentle slope leading toward the crest of the hill. the soft rustle of the grass in the breeze mixed with the distant hum of cicadas, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d done too much. rafe wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who cared about pretty views or picnics, but you’d wanted to do something for him; something simple, something good.

when you finally reached the top, you stopped and turned, throwing out your arms like you were presenting a masterpiece. “ta-da!”

he stilled, his brows furrowing slightly as his gaze swept over the setup. a faded checkered blanket was spread over the grass, a wicker basket sitting in the middle, surrounded by wildflowers you’d picked that morning. from here, the view of the setting sun was perfect, painting the horizon in streaks of amber, pink, and lavender.

“you... did all this?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain.

you nodded, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his intense gaze. “'course. for us.”

rafe looked at you then, really looked at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. his jaw tightened for a moment, and then he exhaled, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

his words sent warmth blooming in your chest as you dropped onto the blanket, patting the spot next to you. “figured you deserved it. all that hay doesn’ stack itself.”

he sat down, his weight sinking into the ground beside you, his knees brushing against yours. “can’t remember the last time someone did somethin’ like this for me,” he admitted, his voice gruff but honest.

“well,” you said, pulling the basket closer and opening it up to reveal the food you’d packed, “someone’s gotta take care of you. you’re always so busy taking care 'f everything else.”

his eyes softened, the usual guarded look he carried melting away as he watched you set out the meal. “you’re too good to me.” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

the two of you ate in comfortable silence, the sun sinking lower with every passing minute. rafe leaned back on his elbows, his broad shoulders stretching the worn fabric of his shirt as he watched the horizon.

“this is nice,” he said finally, breaking the silence.

you smiled, lying back beside him. “see? i told you you’d like it.”

when he turned to look at you, the fading sunlight framed his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the softness in his blue eyes. “i don’t deserve you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place.

you opened your mouth to argue, but before you could, he shifted closer, one hand cupping the side of your face. his touch was gentle, his thumb brushing against your cheek as his lips captured yours. the kiss was slow, deliberate, filled with a tenderness that didn’t match the rugged front he usually put on.

his other hand found your waist, pulling you closer until you were pressed against him. when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“you drive me crazy, y'know that?” he whispered, his voice low and rough.

“good,” you teased, a breathless smile tugging at your lips. “someone’s gotta keep you on your toes, stable boy.”

he chuckled, the deep sound rumbling through his chest as he kissed you again, this time with more urgency. the world around you faded, the soft hum of cicadas, the cool breeze, the golden light of the dying sun. it all melted into nothing but the warmth of him, the weight of his hand on your waist, the way he kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered.

and as the stars began to dot the sky, you stayed like that, tangled together on the blanket, the field quiet except for the sound of your laughter and the steady beat of his heart against yours.

taglist ! ; @drewscoquette , @dollyfiles , @holes4rafe , @filthyrafe , @bambiangels , @rafesheaven , ( pls lmk if you want to be added or removed, i wont mind ! )

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drdemonprince · 23 hours ago

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I’m liking the normalized conversations around childhood sexual assault and sexuality. There’s something even more “taboo” that no one talks about. I dont know if you actually want to respond to this but I’ll type it out if even just for cathartic purposes.

People very rarely discuss sexual assault where the victim actually gets pleasure out the experience. I was molested by a neighbourhood kid not much older than me who I believe was sexualized by his dad and encouraged to do things to the girls in our neighbourhood. I heard rumours about other girls.

Anyway I dont know if these events caused hyper sexuality or if it was already there and that’s why I responded the way I did. But basically he would do things and I would just kinda giggle and enjoy it. I was super young like maybe 4 and he was around 6. In my mind he was showing me attention like grown ups do who are in a relationship so I thought he was kinda like my boyfriend which I liked and I felt kinda special. But he was not into me like that at all and grew up to be a good looking popular prep school boy with like a million girls after him.

I look back and go yeah actually that was kinda gross and weird but my responses always made me feel more shame than what he did. Like there was something wrong with me for reacting that way.

I don’t know if you know Billy Connelly the Scottish comedian. He was molested by his dad and spoke about how it caused pain but there was pleasure in it too. It is like that because if you touch a human body in a certain place and way we will have natural responses albeit unwillingly.

I recently read something on here where this chick who was raped said she orgasmed through it. She still felt violated, traumatized, all those things. But her body responded that way and that caused her a lot of shame.

I wonder if this is more common than we think but no one talks about it? Which makes it a really hard place to come from and harder to try and talk openly about it and get support. Because people just probably think it’s gross and unnatural. Or that is means you “wanted it” therefore it’s not assault and your experience becomes invalidated.

I wish Tumblr's search function was better because I have talked about this many times before! I came during the majority of my assaults, it makes sense that this would be a self protective mechanism that the body employs to prevent physiological damage during rape. One of my assaults is so vividly linked to unstoppable/unintended pleasure in my mind that it's still one of my number one spank-bank topics; I masturbate about my assault on a regular basis and have frequently used sexual scenarios with consenting partners to recreate it for myself. What you are describing is super common anon. Try looking back in the archive for the taboo kinks asks to hopefully see more about this.

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sasheemo · 17 hours ago

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When We Collide

Chapter 14

Chapter Summary: You wake to Agatha's unsettling yet impossibly grounding presence, unspoken questions threatening to unravel a fragile moment. And just like that, walls begin to crack.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N (very long, sorryyy): I still can’t believe it, but here we are. After exactly one month since the last chapter was published, I’m officially back! I can’t promise the creative block I’ve been struggling with for When We Collide is completely gone, but I’m really trying, and I’m so happy to continue this story.

Before you dive in, I just want to take a moment to make a small dedication:

Over the past week, I’ve received an overwhelming amount of love and support that I never expected. Moots, strangers, and even anonymous readers stepped forward in the comments of my update posts on Tumblr or slid into my DMs to show their appreciation and encouragement. You know who you are. It’s because of all of you that, in just over 24 hours, I managed to write an entire chapter after being stuck for a whole month. You gave me an incredible boost of energy and motivation. So, this chapter is for you. To my moots, followers, and each dedicated reader of When We Collide. To everyone who messaged me privately or left a comment on a post or a fic. To those who, even without reaching out directly, have always supported me with their thoughts and good vibes, waiting patiently for an update and never abandoning this story. What you’ve done, and continue to do, for me is amazing. You’ve filled me with so much love and support, and I truly hope this chapter (and the ones to come—yes, they’re coming, hehe) can serve as a proper thank-you.

It’s true that writing should primarily be for yourself, but when you receive this kind of support and encouragement, it becomes something truly special to write for others too.

Let me know what you think of the chapter, and thank you from the bottom of my heart! 💜

PS: Spoiler—I literally felt my heart break while writing a certain piece of dialogue. Had to pause, pick up the pieces, and keep going. Sorry y’all, I couldn’t resist 💔

Chapter Index

Read on AO3

You stir awake to the faint glow of the early afternoon, the light filtering softly through the edges of the curtains. For a brief, suspended moment, your mind lingers in the haze of sleep, the kind where nothing feels quite real, and you’re not entirely sure where you are. Then the weight registers.

The warm, undeniable weight of someone pressed against you.

Your breath catches, your body locking in place as you become acutely, painfully aware of Agatha’s head resting on your shoulder.

Her dark hair brushes against your neck, faintly ticklish, while her arm lies draped across your waist.

You don’t dare move. Not even a twitch.

Every nerve in your body stands at attention, screaming for you to do something. But you lie there, frozen, your heart hammering so loudly you’re sure it’ll wake her. The thought of turning your head to look at her fills you with a mixture of terror and curiosity, and you’re too paralyzed to face either.

You try—really try—to focus on the practicalities. How did this even happen? You’d climbed into bed hours ago, stiff as a board, determined to keep your distance. You’d stayed on your side, curled up awkwardly, staring at the wall like it held the answers to every question you were too afraid to ask.

But then sleep had come. Or at least something like it—a restless tangle of half-dreams and unconscious movements, shifting and turning under the weight of the night’s tension.

At some point, the gap between you must have closed. At some point, her arm must have found its way across you.

A thousand excuses rush through your mind, each more fragile than the last, as if rationalizing the moment could make the closeness disappear. But they all crumble, leaving behind one undeniable truth: you don’t want to move. Not really.

You tell yourself it’s fear. Fear of waking her. Fear of the look on her face if she realized the position you’re in. Confusion? Annoyance? Disgust? The thought twists your stomach into painful knots. But beneath the fear, another emotion lingers, quieter and far more dangerous.

It feels… good.

You hate how much you notice it, how your senses seem to betray you with every passing second. The softness of her hair brushing your neck, the heat of her body radiating against your side, the faint pressure of her arm resting on you—it all feels far too natural, far too easy, like some cruel joke the universe decided to play.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to move, to shift, to put some distance between you. But your body doesn’t listen. You’re too hyper-aware of every tiny detail, of how close she is, of how safe she feels.

A shaky exhale escapes you, your chest rising just enough to disturb the delicate stillness between you. Agatha stirs slightly in her sleep, a soft sound escaping her lips as her arm tightens instinctively around you.

Your heart practically leaps into your throat.

You swallow hard, trying to convince yourself that this is normal. That there’s nothing strange or inappropriate about lying here like this. That it doesn’t mean anything. That it’s just an accident, a coincidence. That’s all.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. Except it’s not.

Because no matter how much you want to believe that this is accidental, that she’s completely unaware, a small, traitorous part of you wonders what it would mean if she wasn’t.

You try to focus on the ceiling, on the faint creak of the house settling around you, on anything other than her. But it’s impossible. Because no matter how still you stay, no matter how hard you try to quiet your thoughts, Agatha’s presence fills every corner of the room—and every corner of you.

Your breath hitches as you finally, finally let yourself turn your head. It’s tentative at first, a small, hesitant shift of movement.

Your chin almost brushes her forehead, and the nearness of her—so close you could count the faint freckles scattered across her skin—leaves you utterly undone.

For a moment, you can’t think, can’t breathe. The sight of her like this, her face so close to yours, is enough to send your thoughts spiraling.

Your gaze moves carefully, tracing her features as if each one might dissolve into smoke if you looked too quickly.

Sharp and soft. The words loop in your mind like a mantra, and you can’t stop staring. The sharp lines of her jaw and cheekbones, the delicate curve of her lips—they blend danger and allure in a way that leaves you off-balance, like she was never meant to be anything less than both.

Your let your thoughts drift, unbidden, to what you know about her. And, perhaps more troubling, to what you don’t.

You’ve spent all your life in the same coven, shared the same spaces, breathed the same air, yet she’s always been distant. A figure just out of reach, admired and feared in equal measure by most.

You sift through your memories, trying to piece together fragments, to make sense of the person sprawled across you now.

Everyone has been speaking of Agatha’s power in hushed tones since you were children—the raw, unpredictable force of her magic. How it brims with potential but defies control. Even the older witches have always been wary of her, watching her like a storm poised on the horizon.

And then there’s the story. The one no one speaks of outright but that lingers in fragments, carried around by rumors and half-truths.

It was just over a couple of years ago. One of the daughters of your mother’s friends—a girl you barely knew, though her name still echoes through the village homes and halls—was found dead in the woods. Cold, lifeless. Drained.

The whispers said it was Agatha.

They claimed she had taken the girl’s power, siphoned it like a flame devouring a candlewick. That she left her there, alone in the woods, to die.

But that girl wasn’t just anyone. She was Agatha’s best friend.

The rumors painted it as a calculated act of power, a way to send a message and solidify her place as the rightful heir to the coven’s legacy. They said her magic demanded sacrifice, and she hadn’t hesitated to give one.

But that version of the story never sat right with you.

Even more so now, with Agatha asleep beside you, her head resting on your shoulder, her breathing slow and even in sleep. The idea of this Agatha—the Agatha who clings to you in her slumber—being the monster the rumors describe feels impossible to reconcile.

You’ve always wondered if there was more to the story. If the truth had been buried beneath layers of fear, jealousy, and Evanora’s carefully orchestrated manipulations.

Because if there’s one thing you know about Evanora Harkness, it’s that she’d burn the truth to ashes to protect her image.

The slow rise and fall of your chest brushes faintly against Agatha’s arm, jolting you back to the present. You exhale shakily, your gaze locking once again on her face.

She looks so… harmless. The thought slips into your mind unbidden, and you can’t stop yourself from clinging to it. Here, now, in your bed, tangled against you, she does look harmless. Innocent, even.

And yet… the stories remain. The danger, the sharpness, the fury—it’s still there, lurking just beneath her momentary serene exterior.

You should move. You really should. Break the moment, pull away, regain the distance you’re supposed to have. But you don’t. You can’t. Because for all the danger and mystery that surrounds Agatha Harkness, there’s something else, too.

Something that keeps you rooted in place, your gaze drinking her in, feeling her presence in every breath you take.

The stillness is interrupted by a faint shift. Agatha stirs against you, her body shifting slightly as her fingers twitch where her hand rests near your waist. Her breathing changes, no longer the even, steady rhythm of sleep but something shallower, more conscious.

You freeze, your own breath caught in your chest. Her head lifts just a fraction before settling again, her hair brushing against your neck in a way that sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. For one agonizing moment, you wonder if she’ll pull away.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, Agatha lets out a soft exhale, her lashes fluttering as her eyes blink open, slow and heavy with sleep. There’s a beat—a single, suspended second where her gaze adjusts, flitting from the faint light of the room to you.

Her arm remains draped across your waist, though her fingers flex slightly, testing their place. Her lips twitch, just barely, into something resembling a smirk.

“Is this how you treat all your guests, or am I just special?” she murmurs, her voice husky and rough from sleep, the teasing lilt sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

The words pull you from your haze of panic into full-blown mortification, heat rising to your face as you open your mouth, then close it, scrambling for a response.

“You—you asked me to stay!” you stammer, your voice breaking as you shift just a little, glaring at her. “Don’t twist this into—”

Agatha cuts you off with an expression so faux-innocent you want to scream, her tone light but laced with mockery.

“Did I?” she muses, her brow quirking as though she’s genuinely pondering it. “Hmm. Doesn’t sound like me.”

Your jaw drops.

Your heart hasn’t stopped pounding since she stirred, and her smirk only makes it worse. The audacity, the smugness. She’s so calm, like waking up tangled together is just another morning for her.

For you? It’s a waking nightmare—or at least, that’s the excuse you cling to as you try to suppress the heat that is completely taking hold of your whole body. Your fists clench at your sides, and your frustration boils over.

“You did! You said—” you stop yourself, huffing in exasperation as her smirk turns into a full-blown grin. “Ugh, you’re impossible.”

“And you’re far too fun to annoy.” she counters shifting slightly, her arm sliding away from your waist as she props herself up on one elbow.

You bite back another retort, your face burning as you turn your head to look anywhere but at her. She’s infuriating. Smug and sharp-tongued and—close. Too close.

The silence stretches for a beat, and you take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down.

It doesn’t help that she’s still watching you, her gaze a quiet weight against your skin. You can feel it without looking—how her smirk lingers, how her eyes flicker between amusement and something unreadable.

She shifts again, finally breaking the silence.

“Well,” she says softly, her voice still carrying that teasing lilt, “if this is how you handle all your guests, I can’t imagine they stay very long.”

Your breath hitches, and you glance at her despite yourself, catching the faintest flicker of something beneath her grin. She’s teasing, sure—but there’s an edge to it, a quiet discomfort she’s trying to mask.

You huff again, crossing your arms and refusing to let her get the last word. “Maybe they don’t. But you did ask me to stay, so if you have complaints, take it up with yourself.”

Her grin softens slightly, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she leans back a little, her hand brushing against the blanket as she rests her weight on her palm. Her gaze flickers briefly to the window, her expression almost thoughtful.

You watch her for a moment, your own irritation ebbing away as curiosity takes its place. She’s still infuriating, still impossible—but there’s something else, too. Something quieter.

You should let it go. The tension, the moment—it’s already too much and you both literally just woke up. But the question lodges itself in your throat, unspoken words buzzing like a swarm. You don’t even mean to say it. It just… slips out. “What really happened that day?”

Agatha’s head tilts slightly, her eyes cutting back to yours in a sharp, measured motion.

“What?” she asks, her tone casual, but there’s a sudden wariness in her gaze, the edge of a blade being drawn.

You hesitate, regretting the words almost immediately, but it’s too late now.

“The girl.” you clarify, your voice quieter than you intended. “The one they say you… killed.”

The room seems to still, the air shifting as the words settle between you.

Agatha doesn’t move, her expression unreadable, but the flicker of something raw flashes behind her eyes—a shadow that vanishes almost as quickly as it appears.

Her lips curve into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Really?” she drawls, leaning back slightly, the picture of feigned nonchalance. “That’s what you want to talk about? Here? Now?”

Your stomach twists at the sharpness of her tone, but you don’t look away.

“I just…” You pause, choosing your words carefully. “I just want to know the truth.”

Agatha lets out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking her head as she looks away again.

“The truth…” she mutters, her voice low, almost mocking. “You’re the first person to actually ask me for it, you know?”

The words hit you like a slap, leaving you momentarily speechless.

“Wait.” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “No one’s ever—?”

“No.” Agatha cuts in sharply, her tone laced with dry amusement that barely conceals the bitterness beneath.“Why would they? They already think they know. They don’t need my version.”

She scoffs, her lips curling into a sardonic smirk.

Your chest tightens painfully at the words, the weight of what she’s said settling over you like a heavy fog. If no one’s ever asked for her version of the story, if no one’s cared enough to hear the truth… then everything you’ve heard—the whispers, the rumors, the stories—might not be true. Or at least, not entirely.

Agatha’s gaze flickers back to you, piercing and unreadable, as if she can sense where your thoughts are heading.

“I know what they say.” she continues, her voice quieter now, colder. “Some of it’s lies, some of it’s not.”

Your breath catches, her words hanging between you like a challenge, daring you to press further. And you do.

“But if not all of it’s true…” you ask, your voice trembling slightly, “… then why?”

You hesitate, the question twisting in your chest before it finally escapes. “Why do you let them believe those things about you, hmm?”

That stops her cold.

Her gaze locks on you, her expression sharp and unyielding, but there’s something flickering beneath the surface—something fragile and dangerous and far too human.

For a moment, you swear you see something shatter behind the mask she wears so flawlessly. And when she finally speaks, her whispered answer tears through the silence like thunder.

“Because the truth is too awful.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at her. The rawness in her voice, the vulnerability she so desperately tries to hide, steals the breath from your lungs.

But you don’t back down. Not now.

“Maybe.” you say quietly, your voice softening but steady. “But I don’t think it’s worse than the lies, than the stories people tell.”

Her head tilts slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. The tension in her shoulders doesn’t ease, but there’s something in her gaze—a flicker of hesitation, of consideration.

“You’re persistent.” she mutters, the edge returning to her voice, though it’s quieter now.

“And you’re exhausting.” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual despite the knot in your chest tightening with every passing second. “But since it looks like we’re stuck together—and you’re literally in my bed—you might as well tell me.”

You know the truth, though: you’re not really stuck together. Agatha could leave anytime she wanted—she’s clever, resourceful, and probably already thought of four different ways to slip out unnoticed, if she needed or wanted to.

But you also suspect that getting Agatha Harkness to open up requires more than simple patience. She needs to feel cornered—not with malice, but with intent. She has to know that someone is paying attention, that someone cares enough to ask, and that walking away won’t make the questions disappear. So you hold her gaze, refusing to let the moment slip away.

Agatha exhales sharply, the sound laced with frustration as she rubs a hand over her face. For a long, agonizing moment, you think she might retreat entirely. But then her hand falls, and she looks at you again.

And just like that, the walls begin to crack.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha x y/n #agatha harkness fanfic #agatha all along fanfic #aaa fanfic #when we collide

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lol-jackles · 1 day ago

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Hello,

It’s nice to see you more active on here at the moment.

I was thinking about how you tend to say that the bi-bros who lean towards Sam are more in line with the GA.

But, I watch lots of reactors watch SPN for the first time, and they often lean towards Dean (I’d say 3/5), and I’ve heard a similar ratio say that they think Jensen is a noticeably better actor than Jared.

So, my questions are, are they letting fan expectations colour their reactions (hellers and Dean girls are very fast to pounce on new reactors), are they already Destiel curious from seeing edits in tumblr (I know of at least one who fits this), or do they acquaint “they make me feel emotional therefore they are the best actor”?

For me personally, on my first watch, Dean killed me with his love for family and Sammy and I empathized more with him usually, at least until Season 4/5 where he started pissing me off regularly. But, when I rewatch, I love episodes like Mystery Spot and Born Under a Bad Sign, or Souless Sam episodes because Jared is just so good when he gets something interesting to do. I find the Dean crying stuff less compelling on rewatches because it’s not as interesting to me (with a few expectations) after the first and second viewing. And acting at mirrors scenes gets old for me in particular very quickly.

In short, I think both are good, with different strengths, but I wonder why so many new viewers that I come across see Jensen as being stronger and Dean as being better. Do the just fail to see past the narrative bias? Or they just like Sean because he’s more fun?

Anyway, I appreciate any thoughts you want to share on this. And I’m also wondering if there is stats anywhere in GA favoring Sam?

First, because Sam girls commit “geek social fallacies” by also liking Dean because they love that Dean revolves around their Sammy. But Dean/Jensen stans don’t return the favor because they hate that Dean revolves around his Sammy so they hate on Sammy even though under their breath they’ve said if Jensen had been playing Sammy all along they wouldn’t change any of the writing. That’s why there appears to be a Dean bias in the SPN fandom because Sam fans also likes Dean.

It’s not a coincidence that Sam girls are the fandom’s official representative (all the meta fans on the show are Sam fans). The show is mostly Sam-centric, if the bitter Sam girls won’t believe me then believe Jensen’s interviews when he said that SPN is Sam-centric and called season 10 a "rare Dean-centric storyline". (X)

Second, Dean is supposed to be a scene stealer, that's what support-protagonist do. Often our favorite characters are not the protagonist but these scene stealers characters, they are usually cool or very funny. But it becomes a problem when producers try to capitalize on the character’s popularity, like creating a spin-off. Like spices, which can not take the place of the main course, scene stealers often fail as leads because their “special-ness” evaporates when they have to carry the show. It's why WB canceled Supernatural when Jared told them he was leaving, because they knew a Dean-led Supernatural wouldn't work.

So while I'm watching an episode, I am more drawn to Dean because he’s more fun or interesting to watch. However the next day I remember the episode through Sam’s actions and interactions. Some of my readers tell me that they were surprised that they seem to “forget” Dean when they recall specific storylines, I said that’s supposed to happen with the support-protagonist. We don't remember much of what John Watson did in the classic Sherlock Holmes or what was Nick Carraway's deal in The Great Gatsby.

It's the protagonist who mobilizes the story and stands out in readers’ or audiences’ minds. Dean needs interaction with Sam in order for the audience to even remember him because he's part of the protagonist’s story. It’s why I keep saying Supernatural is Sam’s story, it's his Hero’s Journey. Dean is at his best when he’s focused on Sam (which is why season 10 sucked and season 5 was kind of weak).

Third, Jensen is a personality actor and people are generally more drawn to them. Jared is a character actor who is trapped in a leading man role. Jensen has been Jensen “Dean Winchester” Ackles for the majority of his TV and movie roles since 1998. It’s why Jensen initially made a bigger splash with Dean in the early Supernatural seasons because he’s already been playing Dean for years since Days of Our Lives. In 2005 when SPN premiered, Jensen had a 7 years head start playing Dean compared to Jared who was just starting to play Sam and had to create Sam from scratch. By season 3, audiences began to notice Jared's versatile acting skills and he would soon be tasked with playing different characters because that's what character actors do.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester

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romana-after-dark · 2 days ago

Text

Our Gentle Sins: Part 13

Thank you so so so much to @plasticbabies for making this beautiful header!!!! we finally have a good one!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Series Masterlist : Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

Spotify Playlist

Follow @romana-updates and click follow, join my tumblr community or ask to join the tag list to keep up!

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Chapter summary: Past. Dolly is a part of a family. Present. Seeing Stevie

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religious trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

a/n: PAST is a short chapter. the floor of the next few chapters is.... bad?? so im trying to chop it all up the way its best but its so hard trying ot match themes up with the before and after ;-; so im sorry. I feel like this chapter was boring.

Before

You tried, he really fucking tried to go back to normal after that, but ever since kissing you, feeling you body… things became more charged than normal.

You sat closer to him now, his body warm and inviting and buzzing with energy with everyone piling into the media room to watch a movie. Earlier today, Remy came into your room while you taught, trying to rally everyone together for a movie night.

You hear the door creek and glance over, smiling when you see Remy’s black and red eyes popping through the cracked door. Waving him in, you continue with the lesson. At 6’1 but not built too wide, Remy would not be out of place in your height school class seats…

Unfortunately, he was sitting in on your small elementary class.

Most mutations manifest with puberty, but some, especially second generation mutants, have the x gene activated much earlier. Your class was small, small enough you usually had to figure out how to teach content at 3 different grades at the same time… You couldn’t have a whole class just for the one 1st grader. When Remy came in, you were getting ready to read a book. You explained that each of the grades would have an assignment based off the book, and what each grade should be thinking about during the book, but to try and concentrate on the story first and foremost.

“I’ll be doing a think-aloud, so I will be modeling to you how readers think through books as we go.” You don’t have any degree, but you've been doing research on how to be an effective teacher.

Remy listened intently, looking like he’s about to REALLY enjoy the story, but you have some mercy. His legs look like they are losing circulation.

“Okay friends, how about we read the book on the carpet.” The kids erupted into cheers. “IF we can show Mr. LeBeau out best quiet feed and listening ears, okay?”

It was not very quiet, but they didn’t run.

“Mr. Lobo!” Said Micheal, not watching where he was going. “Are you and Miss Palmer in wuv?”

Remy bursts out in laughter, while your face burns red, quickly apologizing to Remy and trying to quell the kids.

“No!” Another kid, Katy, piped up. “She loves Mr. Howlett!”

Remy was no help, your handful of students arguing that you were in love with “Mr. LeBeau”, “Mr. Howlett”, “Mr. Summers” and even one kid asked about “Miss Grey”, which felt like the start of a very convoluted love… square?

“1, 2, 3, eyes on me!”

The children chimed back. “1, 2, eyes on you.”

“Okayyyy” You cleared your throat. “You guys don’t need to worry about who loves who. Me and Mr. LeBeau are just friends, and he is going to model good listening for me.”

30 minutes later, Remy did not model good listening, but he did at least help the younger kids with their assignment, so there was that.

“You’re a pain, you know that?” You tidy up before heading to the high school English room. This room was used for most subjects so the elementary school so most of your kids just stayed in the room coloring or reading or talking.

“A pain in your ass?” He whispered, and you gasped in response, smacking him with crumple cardboard paper.

“Hey! I whispered!” But he stopped swearing. “I wanna have a movie night with all of us, are you in?”

As much fun as it sounded, big groups of friends still made you nervous. Remy was friends with everyone, and although no one had treated you badly, there were people you knew still thought you were weird. They weren’t wrong. Moreso, it was hard with a large group of people who all were friends together. Then there was you. Last week's dance was enough for a little while. “Whose all coming?”

“Well, Logan of course, but I think he’s assuming you’ll be there.” He answered, and smirked at your little smile. “Kurt and Ororo said yes, Hank said maybe, you know how he gets caught up in his work, and I’m gonna invite Scott and Jean after you tell me yes because you love me so much????”

Your head sank a little at that. You liked Scott a lot, and Jean was always kind to you. You had no reason to dislike them…

“I don’t… I don’t think I can make it. Papers to grade and all that…”

Remy’s face crumbled. “Why? What? Too many people? I’ll uninvite everyone!! I’ll grade all the papers! Pistache, you’re the one I actually want there!”

You don’t know what to do with that. You knew Remy loved you, and that he was your good friend, but you weren’t used to someone choosing you first.

“It’s just… Well, don’t uninvite people, that��s crazy.”

“But I want you to come! What is it?”

He was too loud, some of the kids were trying to eavesdrop (nosy little things. You loved ‘em.) so you pull him off to the side, talking quieter.

“It’s just… Scott…”

Remy frowned at that, a little concern on his face. “What, has he given you problems? I thought he’d be understanding, knowing he knows what you-” But then he stops himself.

You almost missed it. Pinching your brows, you shake your head, “N-no, Remy, he’s fine- he- it’s Logan and Scott, Remy, come on. The fight?”

He relaxed. “Oh. Well, aren’t they over it?”

Over it? You don’t think they’d ever be over it. There was never friendship, never something to rebuild, only jealousy, anger, and a little bit of attempted murder.

You sigh, pinching your brow. “Remy. Logan tried to kill him. Scott keeps accusing him of abusing me. Logan slept with his wife. Scott accused him of m-o-l-e-s-t-i-n-g Rogue”

“Wait, what?”

“I can’t expect them to get along. And if Jean’s in the mix I- Remy, why would you want to invite all three of them?? Are you trying to start another fight?” The tone was harsher than you wanted it to be, but you’d had an intense week, and he gave you a piece of information you weren’t sure what to do with.

Your friend in front of you completely deflated, his normally happy face falling and his red eyes looking down. “Yeah, you’re right… I didn't think it through…”

You instantly felt bad. How could you be so mean to Remy? Sweet, sweet Remy? Remy who’d been there for you though it all. “I know. You’re friends with everyone, so you want everyone to be friends. I get it. I’m sorry.”

Remy gives you a small smile, seemingly recovered. “It’s alright, Pistache. What if I just don’t tell Scott and Jean? Or we could just watch something together? I uh… I heard from Rogue today. Got a letter and it… wasn’t very long, is all. Bit worried she’s forgotten about me in her grand adventures.” He gives a little laugh, but it’s nervous.

You consider the people coming, and decide it’s a small enough group. And Logan will be there, so you won’t be alone.

“Yeah, the movie sounds fun. Thanks for inviting me, Remy.”

You leaned against Logan, snuggled up to him comfortably as everyone found their spots. Kurt poofs in front of the large TV, see’s you in Logan’s arms, and his yellow eyes light up. “YAYYYYYY! Darauf habe ich gewartet!!” He teleports to you and Logan, squeezing both your cheek, poofing onto Logans shoulders to hug his whole head, then to behind the couch where he gave you a hug that clearly respected your personal space stuff.

“What are you on about, elf?” Logan pretends to be grumpy, but other than Wade, Kurt is his best friend.

He’s standing in front of you two again, grinning wildly and you can see his sharp teeth. “You two!” He gestures. “I’ve been knowing something is going on between you! Liebe, nein? I’m so happy it had finale happened!”

Morph threw a popcorn kernel at him. “Nothings happened yet. They are in denial.”

“We’re not in denial!” Logan barks, but he’s blushing. “We’re just…” he looks at you. “Taking it slow…”

“Oh.” Kurt’s shoulders drop. “Then… wat eez all dis?” He gestures to Logan’s arm around your shoulder.

You giggle. “Well, like he said, we’re not in denial.”

Kurt observes you for a second. “Mph. Well, dis eez… embarrassing for me, ja?”

You were about to protest when when Remy throw a pillow at him, yelling something about sitting down and shutting up. Kurt BAMF’d away, and reappeared on the armrest next to Logan.

“Dis guy.” Kurt gestures to Remy, whispering a little too loud. “Get’s broken up with vone time and he’s a mess.” He shimmers down between the arm rest and Logan, forcing the wide older man to scoot himself and you over, muttering, ‘well excuse me, I guess.’. Kurt settles into his spot opposite you, next to Logan. “Meanvile, I get broken up with, MANY TIMES! Including by him, and wat do I get!”

“We weren’t dating!”

“But you like to say I love you during sex, no? Oh, Kurt! Mo linm twa!” he mimicked, but the humor was in his voice, as it was in Remy’s as he retorts.

“At least I don’t pray the Hail Mary after sex!”

“At least I know the Hail Mary”

“I’m Cajun, do you really think I don’t know basic catholicism?”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I just have catholic guilt about.”

“You could use a little guilt, mein freund.”

“I’ll leave that to Scott.”

Hank slaps the armrest of his seat. “If we’re not actually going to watch a movie-”

Remy and Kurt laugh, and Remy starts the movie.

As you watched, you couldn’t help think about how good life had gotten. A peaceful, easy feeling comes over you as you listen to Kurt and Remy whisper to each other the whole time, Logan telling them to ‘shut the hell up or I will stab you.’ Morph loudly booing the cheesy sex scene, and Hank letting all of us know what is impossibly and unrealistic in the movie. Things were good.

There was, however, a gnawing piece of your mind… it reminded you what Remy said. Scott knows. Scott knows what you’ve been through… or what you’ve done, you didn’t let Remy finish.

You’d figured Charles had told Scott at least a baseline of what you’d experienced. Scott was his man on the ground, the one who had these day to day interactions with you, the staff, the teens. It made sense, and you didn’t expect the top teacher and school leadership (and basically the HR department) to NOT know one of his staff was severely traumatized.

You’d JUST told Logan what you’d done. You’d told Remy last month. You just wanted them and Mr. Xavier to know… had he gone and told Scott you were a killer? Did people other than Scott know?

After

Jean was all ready at the table when Logan brought you in, gently laying you down on the bed for Jean to examine.

“What happened?” She asked, frowning as she looked at your slightly bloodied face. The cabinet hit your forehead and nose.

Logan began to answer. “She hit her face on-”

“I was asking Miss Palmer.”

Scowling, Logan shut his mouth. “I… I slipped on water cleaning up from the party. My face hit the cabinet.”

“Did you fall?”

“No, I caught myself. Or- I think Logan caught me? It’s kinda hard to remember.” It was fuzzy, honestly. You’d thought he hit you, the ghost of the slap still stinging your cheeks… but that was probably something else.

“Yeah, I caught you.” He strokes your cheek, soothing the leftover pain there.

Jean does her work, informing you that you were mildly concussed.

“You’ll need to rest. No work for a few days minimum.” She raises an eyebrow at you. “No repeats of when you got sick and refused to tell anyone until you passed out. You’re going to take off the rest of this week.”

You open your mouth to argue, but she points a finger with a slight smile. She’s tired, but her bedside manner is compassionate. “No. We can shuffle a few things around. Wade can take over a few simple classes while he’s here and move those teachers to your kids, and Hank can easily slide back into teaching English. Well, maybe high school and middle. I can handle the littles.”

She turned to Logan.

“Logan, I don’t think we can get you off that long, but we’ll get you off a few classes so you can look after her. I’m sure Wade will be happy to teach gym, and Professor can take on history. Next week is finals anyway, so I know you guys have a lot of study periods planned.” She touches your shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

You nod, but there’s a more pressing issue. “And Stevie?”

Jean smiles. “He’s doing fine. Don’t take aspirin as it could cause bleeding but tylenol is okay for your head pain. Stay hydrated, nothing caffeinated.” She types everything up for you, then prints it out. “Here’s a care plan, but know I’m right here if you need me.”

“Thanks, Jean.”

Logan gave a nod. “Yeah, thank you. I know you were in bed.”

She closed up her laptop. “Not a problem. Now, I know you’re seeing a regular doctor, and that’s okay… but I thought… if you’d like, I could share what I saw when I checked on Stevie.

You blink. “You mean… like an ultrasound?”

“Kind of, but much more clear. It’ll be almost like you’re there with hi-”

“Yes!” You’re so excited you almost forget any fear or pain.

Logan nods his head, eyes wide, and takes Logan’s hand before laying her other one on your stomach again. Suddenly, her mind’s eye was your own, and you could see him. You little baby asleep in your stomach, and it was like he was in a pool of water; not quite totally clear, but not blurry either. It was incredible.

You begin to cry.

“Go get your girl to bed, Logan.”

Logan laid you down on to bed after having you drink a bunch of water. “Wake me up when you need to pee, okay?”

You don’t look at him. “Okay.”

There is a short pause. “Hey.” Logan cups your face, bringing it to you. “It was an accident, okay? Just an accident.”

And all you can do is give him a smile, because you don’t know what option you have. “I know. I’m kinda tired, Lo. Can we talk in the morning?”

He gave a sad smile back. “Yeah dollface, we’ll talk in the morning. You’ll see. It’s all be better in the morning. I’m gonna step out for a sec, but I promise I’ll be here if you need me, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Goodnight, baby doll.” He kisses your tummy. “Goodnight, Stevie.”

Logan’s head was reeling. How did that happen? What the hell even happened? He hurt you, he hurt you, his pregnant fiance, his sweet, loving girl, carrying his child. What if something had happened to Stevie? Jean said he was fine…. But what the fuck did she know? Nothing! That bitch and her smug attitude. Stupid fucking cunt. She was probably just lying, trying to sabotage him. Not wanting to have his baby wasn’t enough. She can’t let him be happy. She won’t let anyone else have his baby. She’s just as bad as Scott, stupid mother fucking pansy ass shithead. Couldn’t fuck his wife right then got mad she needed someone else to satisfy her. Must’ve learned how to take it up the ass like he’s always dreamed and won her back, now he can’t let him be happy.

They are out to get him.

Logan needed to clear his head. He needed to let it out.

He needed insight from someone who, while being God perfect idiot, had a strangely good sense of the world. Sure, he didn’t understand what the fuck the mouth was talking about half the time, but Wade understood the world in a way Logan couldn’t.

When Wade answered his door, he was in a hello kitty t-shirt. That was it.

Logan only paused a moment before saying. “Meet me in the west lounge in 5?”

“Hell yay!” Wade sleepily cheered. “I’m on my way!” He began stepping forward, but Logan stuck a hand out to shove him back, He glanced down to his dick, then back up. “Pants on, Wade.”

An hour later, Logan had spilled it all. The slap, the… sex he might have been a little forceful on, how Stevie’s conception was from that… half drunk, he let it all out.

And for once, the merc with the mouth only had 4 things to say.

“Jesus fucking christ, Logan.”

Okay, next chapter we see logan baring it all and i think??? I think we see what triggered logan into the assult

ugh its soooo hard to plan i keep changing the outline so much. This series has given me the most problems out of every series ive written! and ive written many ;-;

Anyway guys im talking to a guy and he knows x men stuff and is chronically online like me and i realllllly like him we met on hinge bc he made a Jim Croce reference which if you know me you know i looooove old music!!! heres too hoping!

I sent him my x men restaurant au bc he's familiar with fanfiction! he really enjoyed it :))) Im taking requests for the restaurant au drabbles!

I also started a romcom/omegaverse/enemies to lovers Logan x reader! Im leaning into the goofy and silly bc too much dark i think isnt good. dark fics help me work through things but too much is.... too much. Im not in a great place mentally rn so i dont wanna linger you know?

I also want to just highlight my go fund me bc im once again struggling greatly to pay for school and im just... so close .;-;

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia a @new-genesis100 @teaganthemorningstar @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight @nonamevenus

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zarathelonewolf · 2 days ago

Text

Latest gachiakuta chapter hurting real good rn.

I am sorry for not writing analysis on the other chapters that have come out in the last month but I have been feeling like absolute shit and simply didn't come here on Tumblr very often.

I did read the chapters. This mess between Rudo and Follo has been building up for a while now. Tamzy said a chapter or two ago that it was a waste how Rudo was refining his powers... Probably because Rudo is refining them for a good cause and he would like Rudo to simply go ballistic. Well... It seems like his desire will come true.

I mean...

This last panel doesn't forebode anything nice.

Rudo is angry. Follo is angry.

I really hope someone defuses the situation. On the other hand, I doubt it will happen. What I DO see happening is:

-Gris tries to stop them

-Tamzy suggests that they should let the boys fight

-Tamzy ends up revealing himself and having to try and kill Gris because Gris is determined to try and stop him no matter what, even though as a Supporter he may not be a match for Tamzy

-Gris is killed, OR Rudo and Follo make up on the spot because Gris is about to get killed

Maybe I am overreacting with the theory, but I have also started school again and my mind is all over the place so, yeah. Doesn't get much better than this for now. I don't even think I formulated my thoughts well.

I have to say, though... This argument...

I have read on Reddit that Follo seems to be projecting, but to me, it goes deeper than that. Both of these boys have gone through so much, but...

-Follo in particular wants to feel as if his pain is important, he does not want for it to be as insignificant as his role as a Supporter (for the way it is perceived by civilians I mean; Supporters aren't actually useless after all). He does not want his pain to be "second rate"

-Rudo wanted to keep Follo safe and he does not see what he is doing as looking down on Follo

-Follo thinks Rudo should gain more social awareness

-Rudo thinks people should be more open about their intentions and speak clearly

To everyone headcanoning Rudo as neurodivergent or an allegory for a neurodivergent individual, I salute you. I am joining your ranks because I believe you are spot on. This is EXACTLY where most of this argument stands: where should the effort be put in conversation and social interaction? How should words be weighed? Should it always fall on the people who are socially aware to "lower their standards", and is it at all what matters and how the issue of misunderstandings must be addressed?

I believe I stand mostly with Rudo on this issue. People need to learn to become more open and direct. "If something annoys you, you should tell me. I need people to be honest with me because I hurt and think about what if they are lying just like the other times". But I also empathize with Follo. "I feel like I shouldn't be too straightforward, because people do not think someone of my stature needs to do so; people don't think I matter enough for these feelings to be worthy of time".

I just. I care for them. So much.

And I hope Tamzy keeps away and lies underneath his cover for a while longer.

#gachiakuta #gachiakuta spoilers #rudo surebrec #follo #tamzy caines

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quathxr · 19 hours ago

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Idk if I’ve ever talked about writing on tumblr before… but surprise I’m a writer too! My good friend @splashheart8 and I have been working on a story of ours for years. I wrote a little snippet today, and I thought I’d share it!

cw: mentions of injuries, blood, stitches, and brief panic.

“Can I take a look at what happened?”

After a moment of hesitation, Lila nodded tersely. Moving as slowly as she could, Mara pulled back the layers of clothing around Lila’s abdomen to reveal her wound. Her clothes were soaked, caked with blood that had now coated Mara’s hands. With a grimace, she eyed the wound.

Clearly, the women had not taken it easy as Mara would have hoped. The stitches around her arrow wound had almost completely popped. She placed a gentle hand near the wound, pretending to ignore Lila flinching away from her touch. The surrounding area felt warm. “You probably got it infected. What were you doing?”

Lila stared at the floor behind Mara. “Not dying.”

Mara muttered a string of curses under her breath. “This is gonna take some work.” She looked over her shoulder to where the merchants and Nyx were hovering. “Some space would be nice?” The less people nearby, the easier it was to focus. Plus, she could only take so much Nyx in a day.

The trio obediently shuffled out of the treehouse, taking turns climbing down the tree. Benji gave her a tight smile as he closed the trapdoor behind him.

Turning back to her patient, Mara raised an eyebrow. “Did they really kidnap you?”

Lila tilted her head side to side. “Eh. Depends on your definition. I’m not exactly here willingly.”

Mara snorted. She opened up her bag and pulled out a clean rag. She dabbed at the wound with the fabric, sending Lila apologetic glances at every wince. Once she’d wiped away any excess blood, and stars above she was praying that wasn’t puss, she set the rag aside and carefully removed the torn stitches.

With a pause, Mara considered her Ka. She had only done some mild practice with Sarah earlier, she should be fine. Right? Mara let out a breath, hoping Lila didn’t notice the quiver in it. She closed her eyes, and let the colors flood her eyelids. Lila’s Ka was a vibrant off-white, bursting at the seams with life, similar to how Clover’s had been, but with a more rhythmic feeling. Mara focused on the weakest spot of her Ka, down by her wound. With a much steadier breath, she reached out with some of her own Ka. Even before Mara’s greenish Ka mingled with her patients, Lila’s Ka lashed back, as if rejecting the healing. Mara opened her senses back to reality, to hear what sounded like her patient hyperventilating. “Lila, I need you to breathe.” She was met with staggered attempts to calm down. “I promise I will not hurt you. But I cannot heal you if you’re this panicked. Breathe with me.” Mara breathed in loudly, and was pleasantly surprised by the sound of Lila matching her breathing. They sat like that for a few more breaths, before Mara focused back in on Lila’s Ka.

Extending her Ka, Mara hesitated before interacting with Lila’s Ka, letting it sit with the unfamiliar energy. The white Ka rippled away momentarily, before settling. With a breath out, Mara infused her Ka into the wound. She let as much of her Ka flow as she could, before she was abruptly cut off by the whitish light pushing her away again.

Mara opened her eyes. She reached out to feel around the wound. With a breath of relief, she said, “I think the infection is gone.” She looked up to meet Lila’s eyes. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but your Ka is… Violent.”

Lila snorted. “Not the first time I’ve heard that,” she paused, “but thank you.”

if you have any questions about the world building or something, I’m always happy to share :3

#gots #guardians of the stars #Writeblr #writing snippet #writing #author #creative writing #fantast #magic #fantasy book #my writing #ocs #worldbuilding

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mylove-thresher · 3 days ago

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(😨 no! This cannot be! Our reputation will be cooked!/j)

ah ah jittereen had the no face starter pack that’s crazy 😭😭😭😭😭

I guess that’s right but I am flabbergasted, discombobulated, shocked, speechless, disconcerted and whatever else the Oxford dictionary has 😭

OMG I remember when they took down like all of the Pokémon games like Pokémon fighters and brick bronze bc of a guy that was the son of my parents friends who let me watch him play 😭. I wanted to play so bad but cuh was older than me so he took that to his advantage and acted superior 💔. I remember how bad bacon heads got tortured like nowadays people dgaf anymore idk why back then it was such a huge thing like ok u have robux but that’s it 😭. (My municipality dgaf ab shi I don’t think they’d do anything ab it and even the one I lived in before didn’t have anything good in library so I just accepted to give up 💀) YES THATS WHAT I MEAN LMAO and sometimes there’s manga that has images on both sides so I’m like??? What side.

I literally was a Caesar kinnie but honestly my kins are all over the place (the entire fucking torture dance trio??? How the fuck do I kin them all there has to be something completely wrong w me) so. Idk no more. 💔 I actually never got into vld even tho it looked kewl? Like I wanted to watch it but I was tryna act tough bc my dad was watching it (he watches everything on Netflix idk) and he was gonna tease me for getting me into it and I’m too prideful to let that happen 😔

tbh is there a better dude than Bucciarati? Polpo prob chose favourites. So I agree. Realest hc ever fr ‼️‼️‼️ Im pretty sure Bucciarati got into the mafia when he was like. Maybe a few years over 13. He still looked like a twig in jojo years. So he def went thru the worst to learn and earn his position. He should’ve been at the club 💔/ref

tbh I just go on twitter to like or reblog 😭 I don’t have any oomfs, I don’t speak to anyone, just peacefully liking art and funny shit. The lifestyle. (I thought ab posting art but then I was like… do I really like twitter that much… more than tumblr… nah… my moots aren’t there…)

honestly most social interactions drain me esp at home and at school my friends can be in a bad mood or do shit (I’m actually Responsible™️ and Respectful™️ and a Law Abiding Citizen™️ at school) and it drains me even more. I just wanna. Lay down on the fuzzy floor of the amphitheater thingie we have. And sleep. But sometimes when keel stuff happens I get pumped with the Social Juice™️ (until it wears off an hour later and I get tired.)

LITERALLY THIS IS WHY I STOPPED YAPPING AB JJBA AND STUFF TO MY FRIENDS BC THEY DONT LISTEN TO SHIT 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I remember last year I was watching part 5 w my friend every dinner and like midway thru p5 she said that she wasn’t paying attention. Look at me rn and be fr. And I get that sometimes I get rlly exited and just yap a lot but. Vro please I listen to u listen to me too 💔. (Also execute ur friend the guillotine for thinking that mista=fugo./j) (it’s probably the results u found 😭 it’s an item in regretevator (Roblox) that basically fills up ur screen w glaggle stuff (smiley faces) and is super overwhelming (in a good way. Makes me feel silly.) (go on the regretevator wiki if you want an image lolz 😭))

You should totally ramble to me about ships you like :3 However many you like I’m just curious uwu

(I didn’t answer this as soon as I got it bc I was thinking about what to say lolz 😭)

tbh I like most ships as long as it’s not problematic or I find them weird/that they don’t have much chemistry. I also don’t mind poly or platonic ships (duh). I’d be sitting here all day yapping ab the ships I like/am okay w bc frankly it doesn’t have to strictly be character A X character B, I think it could also be character A X character C, etc. as long as it’s not any wrong. I won’t be going apeshit(/neg) over ships that I don’t like as much or have like a 2 year age gap. I mean, I think it starts to get weird when there’s 4 years of difference. I think people do too much when they hate on less popular ships smh if it’s nothing weird then let ppl have fun w their little kitty witties smh 😞

Huge yapping starts here vvv

Some ships I like tho r a lot of Ghibli movie couples in general bc they’re just super cute and I love the writing Ghibli does for its characters (I want what they have.). I also like Yukito/Yue X Touya and Syaoran X Sakura from CCS but that doesn’t mean I don’t also like Tomoko X Sakura (pretty sure Tomoko implied to like her anyway). I also like some other side ships from CCS but I barely remember their names bc it’s been so long since I’ve watched it and Netflix took it down 💔. CCS ships r cute in general I think, I’ve never seen any problematic ship (except that one girl X her fucking teacher. Pookie. You’re like 13. Don’t date ur teacher. And she was so pretty too bro why did they make her a questionable character 😭). And now. Getting to jjba my beloved. Since I unfortunately focus so so so much on p5 those are the only ships I’ll yap ab 😢. Huge honorable mention to Jonathan X Erina (jonaeri) tho they’re super cute together even if a lot of ppl said they barely have screen time and stuff :3. Anyway. Part 5. I honestly don’t care much about ships in la squadra as long as they had some form of interaction y’know (I don’t pay too much attention to La squadra anyway 💔). Usually ppl get really divided when it comes to Bucci gang ships tho. Honestly I’d rather see them all as a friend group that see each other as siblings to avoid all that shipping, but I admit I really like some pairings, like fugonara, bruabba, giotrish, futrish, naratrish, etc. I really don’t mind it that much (I don’t rlly ship mista w anyone bc I just don’t think there’s anybody matching his freak 😭). I mainly ship fugonara as you can see just bc to me it makes a lot of sense even if I also see them under platonic light. If there’s fugo, there’s narancia, and if there’s narancia, there’s fugo. I just find that rlly cute :3. I also like their backstories and how they tie together and the narancia death scene ripped my heart out in the anime so (IM CRYING AGAIN JUST FROM THINKING AB IT STOP 💔). Again that doesn’t mean I dislike the other ships, I just don’t pay much attention to them or think they had as much chemistry or time together. I love seeing my fave characters tho, so it’s not like I won’t like the content if there’s like gionara or something. Honestly I like seeing ppl have fun w their cutie patooties as long as it’s not too controversial, once again. It’s rlly a shame that ppl can jump at each others throat bc they disagree on a mere ship. It’s literally not gonna alter your life. Also, bc I say a ship some bucci gang characters doesn’t mean I don’t also ship them platonically. (I’ll type it like it’s ao3 tags lolz. Pretty sure & instead of / is for platonic, right?) I rlly like Narancia&Mista&Fugo (torture dance trio is literally the best friendship ever to me bc wdym you did a coordinated dance w ur homies to torture someone that’s so cool). There are also a few others, but they don’t come to mind rn (and there’s a f,y in my room annoying me.) You know what I think I gave jjba way too much attention. I also like Mimi X Sheshe (my fav lesbians fr 😍) from mermaid melody pichi pichi pitch. They tried censoring them by making them “sisters”, but they were blatantly and very obviously lesbians. Like vro. They are touching each other so homoerotically and have complimenting colours. And I think that’s most of it…

I don’t wanna make this any longer than it is so um. Yeah. This was a ramble. I didn’t realize it was so long lolz. But yeah it’s basically that :3

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