#and hey! maybe down the line they might become something more

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Okay Cal I’ve taken some time and calmed down and now I’m so very normal about this news. Nico’s back well isn’t that nice. I feel so very casual about that. Just :) so :) normal :)

First theme this round is non-human Buddie!

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲 (IM OBSESSED WITH THIS ONE!!!! Really loving Buck’s hearing loss story and can’t wait to see where you take it! And I’ve got Thoughts™️ about how it might play into the Diaz family magic… It seems like you’re doing the publish once it’s all written thing again - how many chapters are you planning on having?)

🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️(IM INTRIGUED!! And lol this emoji has bracelets on the arm that totally reminded me of Buck’s line arm tattoo so it’s meant to be! There’s so many interesting directions I feel like this one could go and I’m very excited to watch it play out!)

-PCA <3

HI PCA! So happy you're so excited for Nico.

In the meantime, the creature fics!

96 for 🌲 (THANK YOU!!!!! That makes me so happy. I'm really pumped for this one. I want to hear your thoughts! Yes, publishing this once it's all done. I have a ten chapter outline!)

---

It’s not for very long. Buck said the appointment shouldn’t take more than an hour, plus driving. No biggie. Eddie can handle that. He’s an adult. 

He tells himself the fear is that when he’s alone, something will happen. He’ll cover his house in more leaves and turn more and more into an animal until he loses his human mind. His back will become completely hollow like in all his nightmares. He thinks his fears are rooted in pragmatism. But when Buck is actually gone, the truth of it becomes clear. 

It’s painful. 

Buck being gone is actually physically painful for Eddie. He doesn’t know why. He gets this ache all over his body. This gripping sense of panic and nausea combined. He can hardly function. He needs Buck to be back. He needs to not be alone. His brain sort of abandons reason and starts spiraling to some dark place where he’s forever shut out from any sort of human interaction forever. Where he is utterly isolated. 

He doesn’t just think of Buck. He thinks of Christopher, hating him. His team at work, thinking he abandoned them. Adriana, missing without a trace. Shannon, dead. He starts to shake. It feels like some sort of withdrawal; or at least what he imagines that would feel like. He needs some sort of company. Anyone. Anything. Most of all, he needs Buck to come home. 

There’s a knock on the door around the time Eddie is expecting Buck to get back. If Eddie was in his right mind, he would know it’s not Buck. He would know the door is unlocked, and Buck can walk in. He would know that Buck has keys, regardless. 

Throwing aside any sort of precaution or rational thought, Eddie hurries to open the door. He doesn’t have much in the way of a disguise to conceal himself. He’s still wearing Buck’s sweatpants. Nothing for his face. He doesn’t even think about it. What he must look like to someone who isn’t expecting to see it. 

He’s surprised to see that it’s Tommy at the door. Arms crossed, angry impatient look on his face. Tommy, Buck’s boyfriend. He’s probably here for Buck. But he’s Eddie’s friend, too. Maybe he can keep Eddie company until Buck gets back. 

Not single thought of his own protection in his head, Eddie throws open the door. 

“Hey, Tommy,” he says. “What’s up, man?”

Tommy looks furious and confused. He looks Eddie over, eyes scrunching with confusion. 

“Where’s Evan?” He demands. He blinks a few times. Rubs one of his ears. “I know he’s with you and… And I…”

“Buck isn’t here right now. Should be soon. Do you want to come inside?”

“Do I…” Tommy’s eyes sort of glaze over. It’s like watching drugs settle in. The anger all but evaporates from his face. “Yeah, Eddie. Of course I want to come in.”

Eddie is pleased. That’s good. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He can already feel the pain in his body beginning to subside. 

“Come on, man. I’ll get you a beer,” Eddie says. No matter that it’s eleven in the morning. 

“I’d love that,” Tommy says. 

He leads Tommy inside towards the kitchen. He grabs two beers from the fridge. He doesn’t think about the tail creating a strange bulge in the back of his pants. He doesn’t think of the fact that he’s wearing Tommy’s boyfriend’s pants. He doesn’t think of anything and Tommy’s not reacting to anything. It all must be fine. 

When he turns around to hand Tommy the beer, Tommy takes a step towards him, leaving very little room between him and the fridge. Eddie feels a bit cornered. 

“Uh, hi?” Eddie asks. He tries to give Tommy the beer but Tommy doesn’t take it. Won’t even look at it. 

“Eddie, I think we should talk,” Tommy says.

Eddie gets a bad feeling. 

“Okay… Uh, sure. About what?”

“Us,” Tommy says. 

Eddie coughs a little. “Us?”

“You and me,” Tommy says. 

“What you and me?” Eddie asks.

Tommy smirks a little. “What we could be to each other.”

Eddie blinks. “Uh… Friends? Friends with someone very important  in common?”

Eddie might be feeling a little out of it lately, but he’s not insane. 

“Oh, come on, Eddie,” Tommy says. “You had to know there was something between us. If you hadn’t been seeing that woman. What was her name?”

“Marisol?” He asks. Or Kim? Both? Jesus, he’s a mess.

---

66 for 🧜‍♂️ (YAY! Thank you! I am excited to reveal my - and Annie's - plans):

---

He knows that it changes you. In lots of strange ways, some small and some large. 

“I’d had an accident not too long before that,” Chimney says. “Nearly died, myself. But… I don’t know. It’s different for Buck. Especially about Bobby. I think he’s just jealous you’re the new, shiny person on the team.”

Eddie is hardly new and shiny. Buck just doesn’t know that.

Eddie nods. “I’ll… Well, I’ll try I guess. To get on his good side or whatever.”

“I don’t think he has a bad side,” Hen says. “Just be patient. He’ll come around.” 

Eddie holds onto this promise. Hopes that it’s true. And really, really hopes his suspicions aren’t correct. 

🌻

Things get worse. 

There’s some downtime in the shift. Eddie decides to hit the station gym. Unfortunately, Buck is already there with Chimney. He considers turning around and walking away, not wanting to deal with the guy more than he needs to. But he doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. He doesn’t want to be scared off in his own workplace. Not again. 

So Eddie starts on the other side of the equipment from Buck. The punching bag. He gets a conversation started up with Chimney. They talk about the firefighter calendar, which Chimney wants a spot in. Something Buck doesn’t seem thrilled about. It’s clear Buck wants to win, from all the absurd selfies he’s been snapping. 

“Are you gonna submit photos, Eddie?” Chim asks. “Be honest, you’ve probably got washboard abs under that shirt. You submit one of those classic shirtless suspenders photos and you’re a shoe in.”

Ha. No. Abs? Sure. A shirtless photo? No way. 

Across the gym, Buck makes a frustrated noise. Mutters something under his breath. Eddie doesn’t hear it, but he gets the tone. And all he can hear is the sound of someone suggesting he isn’t man enough for the competition. Whether or not it’s what Buck says, it’s what Eddie takes in. 

So he sort of snaps. 

“What’s your problem, man?” He demands, marching over to Buck at the weights. 

Buck looks up at him. He seems surprised to have been confronted. Surprised, but not unwilling to rise to the bait. He stands up, gets close to Eddie, peacocking his considerable height. He’s not that much taller than Eddie, but it sure feels like it, in this moment. 

“Okay. You.” Buck says, voice low and tight. “You’re my problem. Your comfort level.”

Eddie’s comfort level? Is he serious? He’s been doing everything he can to make Eddie uncomfortable. Is Eddie, what? Supposed to know his place? Stay silent and in the background because he’s different? How does Buck even know that he’s different? 

“You’re-you’re not supposed to walk in here like you’ve been here for years,” Buck keeps going. “It’s meant to be a getting-to-know-you period. You’re meant to respect your elders.”

“You’re not his elder, Buck,” Chimney interjects. 

“I don’t know how old you are,” Eddie replies. “But I’m not a probie. I’ve been a firefighter-paramedic for six years. But if you have some sort of prejudice that makes you think I’m not fit for the job-”

“Wait, what?” Buck interrupts. “Prejudice?”

[xo100]

Hey, can you write about landos gf breaking her arm and him taking care of her? like having to help her change and shower, doing her hair und stuff line that? thank you <3

In his care - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1562

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Lando Norris had always been the playful, light-hearted boyfriend, the type to tease and make you laugh until your stomach hurt. But after three years together, there was a depth to your relationship that went beyond just the banter and the fun. He’d become your best friend, your confidant, and now, your caretaker.

You hadn’t expected to be in this position—broken arm in a sling, unable to do even the most basic things without help. It was a stupid accident, really. A slip, a fall, and now you were stuck in this uncomfortable, frustrating situation. But as it turned out, Lando was more than up for the challenge of taking care of you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

-

The first real test came on day one, when it was time for you to shower. Lando, always the playful one, had teased you when he realized you’d need help.

“So, I get to see you naked... and it’s for ‘medical reasons’? Lucky me,” he said with a wink, earning him an eye-roll from you.

“Lando,” you groaned, cheeks flushing. “This isn’t exactly a fun situation, you know.”

But even as you complained, you couldn’t help but laugh. He had a way of lightening even the most awkward moments. His teasing helped take your mind off the discomfort and frustration of not being able to do things on your own. Lando knew when to joke, and when to be serious.

“I’m kidding, love,” he said, his tone softening as he walked over to you. “I’ve got you, okay?”

And he did. Gently, he helped you undress, his fingers careful around your arm. There was something about the way he moved—confident yet delicate—that made you feel safe. Vulnerable, yes, but never embarrassed. He was Lando, your Lando, and there was no one else you trusted more.

Once you were under the warm spray of water, he joined you, shampooing your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp. It was a strange, intimate experience, but not in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. In fact, it was sweet.

“Maybe I should do this for you more often,” he murmured, lips close to your ear.

“You think I’ll let you wash my hair when I’m fully capable?” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his breath warm on your neck. “You never know, you might like the service.”

But as much as he teased, there was genuine care in the way he handled you. He washed every inch of your body with the gentleness you never knew he had. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest for a moment, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“For being... you.”

-

You never realized how hard it was to do something as simple as put your hair in a ponytail with one hand. By the third day, you were ready to give up on the idea of leaving the house with your hair looking decent. But, of course, Lando wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Okay, I’m going to do it,” he said, determination in his voice as he picked up your hairbrush and an elastic.

You sat in front of him, trying to keep still while he struggled to gather your hair into something resembling a ponytail. The concentration on his face was adorable—his tongue poking out a little as he focused on the task at hand.

“Lando, it’s fine,” you said after the third attempt. “I can just wear it down.”

“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m getting this right.”

It took another few tries, but eventually, he managed to pull your hair into a somewhat lopsided ponytail. He grinned proudly, admiring his work in the mirror behind you.

“Look at that! I’m a pro,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.

You laughed, reaching up with your good hand to touch the ponytail. It wasn’t perfect, but it was endearing in its imperfection.

“I love it,” you said sincerely.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your good shoulder. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

“You’re doing a great job, babe.”

-

As the days went on, Lando had to help you with more than just your hair. Getting dressed with one hand was a nightmare, and you hated having to rely on him for something so simple. But Lando, being the cheeky guy he was, turned it into something fun.

“Alright, love, what’ll it be today?” he asked, holding up two of your shirts. “Sexy red or casual blue?”

You gave him a pointed look. “I’m not trying to impress anyone, Lando.”

He smirked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re always impressing me, though.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at his words. He knew exactly how to make you feel special, even when you were at your most vulnerable.

“Blue,” you said with a sigh, and he grinned.

Helping you get dressed was, of course, another challenge. He was gentle but still fumbled a bit, trying not to hurt your arm as he guided it through the sleeve.

“Sorry, sorry!” he muttered as he accidentally tugged too hard on your sling.

You laughed through the discomfort. “You’re not great at this, huh?”

“Hey! I’m doing my best here,” he protested, but there was no real frustration in his voice. He was patient with you, and that was what mattered.

Once you were dressed, he stepped back to admire his work.

“Not bad, huh?” he said, a proud smile on his face.

“Not bad at all,” you agreed, and he leaned down to kiss you softly.

-

By the end of the week, you were starting to feel a little more like yourself, but the pain in your arm was still a constant reminder of your injury. Lando, ever the attentive boyfriend, noticed when you were getting frustrated or tired, and he was always there to offer comfort.

That evening, you were lying on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, when Lando plopped down beside you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, careful of your injured arm, and snuggled up close.

“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice soft in your ear.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Just... tired of this.”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But you’re doing great. And I’m here, okay? For as long as you need me.”

You smiled, leaning into him. His warmth, his presence—it was everything you needed. You didn’t have to ask for his help; he just gave it freely, without hesitation.

As you lay there together, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles on your back, you realized how lucky you were. Not just because he was helping you through this injury, but because he was Lando. The man who loved you unconditionally, who saw you at your weakest and still made you feel strong.

“Love you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

“Love you more,” he replied softly, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

And in that moment, broken arm and all, you felt more loved than ever.

-

As your arm started to heal, you began to regain some independence, but that didn’t stop Lando from taking every opportunity to tease you. He seemed to enjoy his new role as caretaker a little too much, and he never missed a chance to flirt.

One afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to cut up some fruit with your good hand. Lando walked in, immediately taking the knife from you.

“Let me help,” he said, leaning in close.

“I can do it,” you protested, though you didn’t exactly mind when he was this close to you.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, but I do it better, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. He knew exactly how to get under your skin, but in the best way.

As he cut up the fruit, he stole glances at you, his smile never fading. “You know,” he said casually, “taking care of you has been... kind of fun.”

“Oh, has it now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he said, sliding a piece of fruit toward you. “I mean, I get to spend all this extra time with you, take care of you, shower with you...”

“Lando!” you laughed, swatting at him with your good hand.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you. “I’m just saying, maybe I should be your personal nurse more often.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, but your heart swelled with love for him.

“I know,” he replied, his voice soft as he looked into your eyes. “But you love me for it.”

And he was right.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[emilys-bangs]

the end of beginning | e.p

Tags: bau!reader, fluff, no use of yn, s2 baby emily, a whole lotta yearning

Summary: In which Emily is new to the team and finds a friend in you. Requested here.

Word count: 1.2k

Emily has always felt out of place. 

In high school, in her mother’s lavish gatherings, in the sprawling estate that she’d eventually learned to call home. It’s never something she can help, though with gritted teeth she developed the art of blending in with fake smiles and perfectly crafted words. It’s a habit that stuck with her, one she’s never quite learned how to shake off even after all these years.

So it makes sense that she doesn’t fit in at her new job.

It works just fine with her. Emily has had a lifetime to get used to it; isolation had become her friend, the liquid movement of her following shadow more than often her only, constant, companion. Despite that, she had a small, lingering hope. That maybe coming back to DC would mean making herself a home, finding—if not friends—companions that she could be casual with, invite out for a round of drinks when the thick silence of her apartment was too much.

Hope was quickly snuffed out. Her boss only thinly veils his distrust, and the youngest—Reid—stares at her with accusing eyes. The rest of her coworkers are lukewarm, not quite yet interested in getting to know her; their gazes are more often than not tinged with condescension, as if they’re not sure she’s earned her place. It seems like everyone’s waiting for her to slip up, for Hotch to chew her out and pluck her from the neatly rounded group they’ve found themselves being, a well oiled machine that works perfectly in order without her.

Everyone, apparently, except you.

You and Garcia, that is, but the tech analyst’s influence is a lot less reassuring given that it’s behind phone calls and computer screens most of the time. But with you there with her—in the field, at your joint desks in the bullpen—things are more bearable. 

“Hey.” 

You’re whispering slightly as you slip into the vacant seat in front of her, fingers wrapped around a steaming mug.

Emily looks up at you. The dimmed lights of the jet reflect in your eyes, painting you in softer edges as you sit down across from her without waiting for an invitation. There’s an easiness to your movements, one that she would say is out of place considering how long you’ve known her. Still, warmth spreads to her icy fingertips, and she can’t help the small smile that pulls at her lips.

“Hi,” she says back, matching your tone. Other than the hum of the jet itself—and the rumble of distant snores she’s too far away to be bothered by—a soothing silence has settled across the cabin, and her voice doesn’t carry much farther than your seat. The smile that you return is friendly, a sight that she’s been slowly getting accustomed to these past few weeks.

She’s a little surprised when you don’t offer anything more to say. You simply lean back in your seat and take a sip from your mug, her eyes tracing the bop of your throat as you swallow and look down at the sudoku in your hand. Emily’s finger is still slotted inside her book; she’d automatically marked the page and shut the cover closed when you appeared, some subconscious mechanism turning in her head so that you get her full attention.

The revelation that you might simply want her company comes too late. 

You’re looking back up at her, your eyes meeting hers as a slow warmth runs beneath her icy skin. Emily should look back down; she has nothing to say, other than the blunt but genuine question of why are you here, but you give a small shrug and she’s enraptured, tracing the sheepish line of your pressed lips.

“Gideon’s snores get a little loud.” You say.

Emily’s surprised to hear her own laugh. It seems you are, too. A small movement draws your brows upward, but the curve of your mouth is distinctly pleased, your eyes brightening beneath the dim lights of the jet. The sound doesn’t last long—it’s low, soft, joined by your own laugh for a few brief seconds—but its effect carries tension from Emily’s shoulders, makes her slip her finger out of her book with a genuine smile.

“That they do,” she murmurs back, already familiar with the loud rumbles that have made their way through thin motel walls, occasionally piercing her already irregular sleep. The sleeves of her cardigan are pulled over her knuckles; she tugs them higher, seeking to cover the ice in her fingertips. 

“Are you cold?”

Maybe she is. Maybe the sound of your voice spills warmth down her veins. Emily doesn’t like admitting things, but her smile gives her away. It borders on shy, barely wide enough for her dimples to curve in her cheeks; she wishes she had a mug of her own to hide behind, but she has an inkling that hiding from you would be pointless.

In the end she shrugs.

You set your mug and sudoku down. “I’ll be right back.” 

She’s left staring at your empty seat, brows furrowing slightly as goosebumps break out on her skin. The jet really is ridiculously cold. And yet when you come back less than a minute later holding out a fuzzy blanket for her to take, she shakes her head.

“Oh, I can’t—”

“Please,” you insist. “I remember I forgot to layer up the first few times on here and I was miserable. Makes you stiff,” your lips twist into a smile, and you’re looking at her so earnestly that she submits.

“It does,” Emily says, this time accepting the blanket. You beam at her and she goes warm, though it has nothing to do with the fuzzy, light gray wool now draping over her lap. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Emily places her book on the table before effectively burying herself in your blanket. It’s warm and soft; when she brings it up over her shoulders, a faint scent of perfume nuzzles against her nose. Yours. In seconds, her hands grow warm. She chances a glance at you, a thank you almost tipping from her lips again—just to continue the conversation, hear your voice, when you do it for her.

“What does that say?” You’re peering at the worn cover of her book. The edges are curled, the spine broken. The margins are full of her loopy scrawl and unsteady underlines, more than a few pages dog eared.

Emily bites back a smile at the curious draw of your brows. “Les Liaisons Dangereuses.” The French slips effortlessly from her lips, smooth and curling. “The Dangerous Liaisons. It’s a French classic, one of my favorites. I could tell you about it,” her hand peeks out from the edge of the blanket and she fidgets with her hair, tucks it behind her ear, “if you’d like.”

You lean your elbows on the table, sudoku very much ignored as you peer at her with something like astonishment. A grin pulls at your lips and she’s suddenly overheating.

“I very much would, Agent Prentiss.”

“Emily.” 

“Emily.” You agree, tilting your head in a nod. “Tell me about Les Liaisons Dangereuses.” You butcher the title beyond belief. The displeased wrinkle of your nose says you know it, and butterflies erupt along Emily’s lungs.

She laughs, the beginnings of a blush staining her cheeks.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi @temilyrights @moonlight-simp 

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 5

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: after this point you don’t really see Sofia, at least for a while. Maybe at 1 point but I haven’t decided.

I don’t know what Part 2 of the season will bring but from here on out it’s just a rewrite of events that will include Maybank reader instead. Also there’s some use of Y/N here since some conversations don’t happen with her. enjoy :)

2nd note: please let me know if you like this. I love the story telling and building the plot but wanna make sure it’s doing well. Don’t want anyone getting bored :)

Not proofread

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: nothing but soft Rafe tbh and setting up story lines. Next part will be fun

“I’m going to head out for a bit, okay? I have a few things I need to take care of. How about we meet up later at my place?” He asks as you and Rafe made your way down the path. You carried the cozy blanket and picnic basket filled with remnants from your breakfast, while he cradled Vivienne, their bond already evident in the way he held her close.

“Yeah, sounds good,” you say, a broad grin spreading across his face.

He lovingly passed you Vivienne after showering her with a load of affectionate kisses, and then, without missing a beat, he leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the lips. The warmth of that brief connection caught you off guard. You wouldn’t lie; while you had anticipated this moment, you hadn’t expected the domesticity of it all to hit you like this. It felt so natural for him, yet it brought a flurry of emotions bubbling to the surface for you.

The kiss lingered on your lips, and you could feel the warmth emanating from both Rafe and Vivienne, creating an intimate bubble that shielded you from the rest of the world. Rafe's ability to seamlessly blend fatherhood with his charming personality was surprising; he made the whole experience seem effortless, like it was second nature to him.

You couldn't help but marvel at how your relationship had transformed over the course of just a couple of days. Just a year and a half ago, Rafe was simply the bad guy, made to make your brother and his friends lives hell. Now, he was someone who shared quiet moments and laughter with you as a family. Holding the blanket and basket in your arms, you felt an undeniable connection forming. Guilt still creeping in. You wished you allowed him to experience her first year.

As you began to walk away, your mind twirled with thoughts about what the evening might hold. You both had created unforgettable memories together, but this moment felt distinct; it brimmed with the promise of something more profound. Perhaps it was the awareness that you were becoming an integral part of his world—a world filled with simple joys, late-night giggles, and unexpected kisses. As the sun raised above the horizon, painting the sky in beautiful shades of orange, a smile crept across your face at the thought of the future and what lay ahead.

“Say bye dada” you tell V

“Bye dada!” V yells from off the porch

Rafe yells bye back and blows her a kiss. Driving off to do his business as you head inside.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Rafe returns to his house, his thoughts racing as he walks through the door. On the way there, he texted Sofia, asking her to meet him. The weight of the conversation ahead loomed heavy in his chest.

Sofia arrives shortly after. “Hey, Rafe,” she greets him warmly.

“Hey.”

She steps in close and pulls him into a tight, loving hug, but Rafe doesn’t return the embrace with the same intensity. Her smile falters, and she looks up at him, concern etched across her face.

“What’s wrong? Did things not go well with your daughter?” she asks softly.

Rafe shakes his head. “No, that’s not it.” He gestures for her to sit with him outside by the pool. Once they’re settled, he continues, his voice a little distant. “She’s… she’s perfect. Vivienne. That’s her name. She’s the most perfect little girl to ever exist. She looks just like me. She’s so beautiful, so happy.” His words trail off, but Sofia knows there’s more. She feels a knot forming in her stomach.

“I needed to talk to you about some things,” he adds, his tone turning serious.

“Okay…” Sofia replies hesitantly, her heart beginning to race.

Rafe takes a deep breath. “I want to focus on her. On Vivienne. And… um… I want to focus on my family, with both of them. I never expected things to play out this way, and I’m sorry, but this is what I want. I need to be there for them. We need to end this.”

Sofia’s face falls, the words hitting her like a punch. “Oh,” she whispers, barely audible. Her mind scrambles to make sense of it. She thought what they had was special, that he felt the same. But now, he was going back—back to Y/N, back to his family. “Maybe you should, then,” she adds quietly, trying to maintain her composure. “It’s only right.”

Rafe finally meets her gaze, his eyes pleading for understanding. “It wasn’t planned, okay? You know that. But everything came rushing back—every memory, every feeling. And now that V is in the picture, I can’t deny it.”

Sofia doesn’t speak for a few moments, letting the weight of his words settle. She hadn’t anticipated this. She hadn’t imagined she’d be here, blindsided by the sudden shift in his priorities. She didn’t expect to become a ‘stepmom,’ but she had been willing to sacrifice for him—she had believed in what they had.

But now, as sadness sinks in, so does a flicker of anger. It drags her back to a few days ago, when everything still felt right—before Y/N came back into the picture. She remembers overhearing Rafe talking to Ruthie and Topper, saying she was just a hookup, that he could never be with a Pogue like that. Even though she knew it wasn’t true two times, one for you and the other her, the words had stung. They had left a mark. And now, with this revelation, they hurt even more.

In the days that followed, she had been tempted to meet with Hollis, after her dad suggested it. Initially, she’d rejected the idea because she had loved Rafe. She thought he loved her too. But after overhearing him she met with him. Took the money from her too. she planned to return it not being able to do it. But now, with Rafe pulling away, with him choosing another life—another woman—she has nothing to lose.

“I was thinking about that deal you mentioned,” she says, her voice steadier than she feels. “You should do it. I was hesitant before, but maybe it’s a good opportunity. It could be a way to build something for your daughter.”

Rafe looks at her, surprised by her sudden shift in tone. “Maybe you’re right. I still have to decide, but I’m leaning toward going for it. It could be a good opportunity.” He shrugs, unsure of his next steps.

They sit in silence for a while, the weight of their relationship hanging in the air. Finally, Rafe turns to her. “You have no idea how much you’ve helped me,” he says earnestly. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just think my place is with Y/N and Vivienne.”

Sofia nods slowly, her heart aching. “I understand. You think you’re doing the right thing, and that’s all that matters.” She leans over and presses a soft kiss to his cheek before standing to leave.

Rafe grabs her hand gently. “I’m sorry, Sofia. Really, I am.”

“It’s okay,” she replies, her voice steady but hollow. “But you should definitely take that deal.”

Rafe smiles weakly at her, grateful for her understanding. As she walks away, leaving him alone by the pool, he takes a deep breath, the enormity of the situation sinking in. He knows he’s made his choice, but something nags at him—the way she had pushed the deal so hard. For a moment, it puzzles him, but he brushes it off as her wanting the best for him.

Sitting in the stillness, he lets his thoughts swirl before finally reaching for his phone. After some time alone, he dials your number, needing to see you, ready to move forward with the life he’s chosen.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You arrive an hour later. V wobbles into the house, running straight to Rafe. “Dada!” You both smile, the word now coming naturally to her. Rafe is completely smitten. She leans in for a kiss, then holds up her stuffed turtle for him to kiss too.

Rafe looks at you with a serious expression. “I broke up with her.”

Startled, you ask, “What?”

“I ended things with Sofia. I know what I want—it’s you and V.”

“Oh… That wasn’t my plan, Rafe. I didn’t want to ruin everything you’ve built.”

“It wasn’t mine either, but I’m sure now. Is this what you want? Please say yes, because I need to show you something.” He steps closer.

“Of course, yes.”

Rafe leads you and V upstairs. It feels strange not being at Tannyhill, a place you knew so well. You stop at a door with a wooden “V” hanging on it. Inside is a complete nursery—books, toys, a beautiful crib, and a cushioned rocking chair. One wall is covered with sea animal wallpaper, the others a clean white.

“I had an interior decorator come yesterday after I found out. I wanted it done quickly. The wallpaper went up this morning. Kelce stopped by to make sure everything was right.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You pull him in for a kiss and turn to see V already making a mess.

Later, you all head downstairs for dinner. As you eat, Rafe opens up about a deal involving Goat Island, the same place your brother and his friends recently visited.

“What are you going to do?” you ask as he clenches his fist.

“I’m not sure. It could be great—for us, for her.”

“You’ll figure it out. It does seem strange, but maybe Hollis is really looking out for you. I’ll support you no matter what.” You reach for his hand.

“I love you, Banks. You’ve always been the best to me.” Your eyes widen at the old nickname. Smiling softly, you reply, “I love you too, Cameron.”

Taglist-

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @bigbonenative @writtenbyhollywood @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @leilanizcals

[pumpkinbxtch]

— your book vs. me ｡⁠:ﾟheadcanons

The HoO guys fight for your attention when you read, how do they do it?

warnings: actually none but maybe sexual suggestions (it's something very tiny) a/n: I still have my writer's block (Or something like that) but my mind is very imaginative. here you go. I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE ARE GOING TO SAY WHERE IS APOLLO? Excuse me, I'm going to compensate you in the following posts.

Percy:

This man is used to being surrounded by people who love to read.

He knows that if you're so immersed in it, he simply won't be able to pull you away unless the end of the world is around the corner (and even then, he wouldn't be sure you'd let go of the book).

Instead, he takes some things he can distract himself with and fiddles with them while lying on your legs. He loves that spot. While he's distracted with a fidget toy (one of the many he got in therapy for ADHD), he might catch some reactions as you read: when something makes you laugh, annoys you, or embarrasses you.

He loves watching you enjoy something you love.

Sometimes he'll rise and cover the book, and you give him a annoyed look. "Just a second, sweetheart," he assures and steals a kiss from your soft lips.

He hums softly before pulling away and lying back on your legs.

Jason:

Jason won't bother you, instead, as you're reading, he'll take you in his arms and sit you on his lap or position himself in a way that their bodies become intertwined.

He'll gently stroke your head or thighs, wanting to be with you but not interrupt your reading.

Sometimes he'll give you kisses on the cheek as you read, and you'll exchange sweet glances. Jason grabs one of his books, and they both immerse themselves in a comfortable, everyday, peaceful silence.

Frank:

Frank would never disturbe you while you're reading; he feels he couldn't cross that line.

However, he's eager to share moments with you so he ends up adjusting you onto him in a way that he can also see what you're reading and accompany you.

Sometimes he'll share certain comments under his breath—"I can't believe it," he says in amazement while waiting for you to turn the page—"Was it him all this time? He doesn't deserve her."

And you pause, turning towards him. Frank fears he might have bothered you, but instead, he gets a peck on the lips that throws him off balance, girl, you took his breath away, and you continue reading.

Sometimes he notices that what you're reading is a bit steamy, and he blushes.

Sometimes he clears his throat and lets out nervous giggles. When you look at him, he shakes his head slightly: "Did you know that could be done?" he asks,

and you end up suggesting that they could try it sometime.

Leo:

He can be gentle, cute, but not when he seems to need your attention. He'll want to try everything before giving up

, and even though he knows he'll probably lose, he doesn't miss the chance to show his affection in a thousand different ways.

He'll be singing for your attention: "Hey, look at me, look at me, I love you more than that book."

He'll jump on the bed and crawl towards you, some mischievous thoughts crossing his mind, "maybe this will work,"

and he'll settle between your legs and start kissing your knees and then the inside of your thighs.

When he sees it's not working, he moves away and lies down beside you.

He gives you repeated kisses on the cheek and steals some from your lips, but when he sees it's not provoking anything, that's when he finally gives up.

He flops onto the bed and pats his chest; that's the only thing you react to. In the end, all he wants is to have you close.

[nhlclover]

RUNAWAY DOG! WILL SMITH

pairing: will smith x fem!reader

summary: your dog unexpectedly bolts on you, leading you to a loving stranger.

warnings: fluff, reader being a dog owner

word count: 1.10k

notes: i keep seeing videos of will with dogs and i can't with how obsessed he is with every dog he pets

The brisk autumn air nipped at your cheeks as you strolled down the tree-lined street, Freddie trotting beside you with his tail wagging in excitement. The colorful leaves crunched beneath your boots, their fiery oranges and reds swirling in the gentle breeze. Ever since you'd rescued Freddie, these walks had become your little sanctuary, a comforting routine that outlined your day. Twice a day, rain or shine, you two explored the neighborhood, Freddie eagerly sniffing every tree trunk and bush while you zoned out to your favorite podcasts.

But today, Freddie was different. He had more energy than usual, tugging at his leash like he was on a mission. You chuckled at first, trying to get him to slow down. “Freddie, heel,” you called gently, but your words might as well have fallen on deaf ears. His focus was laser sharp as he pulled harder, the muscles in his sturdy little body tense with anticipation. Before you could react, Freddie twisted, shook free of his collar, and took off down the sidewalk at full speed.

“Freddie!” Your heart leapt into your throat as you bolted after him, the crisp air burning in your lungs. The world blurred as you raced down the street, dodging people who stared at the sight of a panicked dog mom chasing after her runaway pup. You shouted apologies over your shoulder, but your eyes stayed locked on Freddie’s furry body, which was quickly rounding the corner.

Just as you were about to lose sight of him, you spotted Freddie barreling toward a tall stranger standing on the corner, waiting at the crosswalk. You feared the worst — what if Freddie startled him, knocked him over, or worse, ran into traffic? But as you got closer, you saw something unexpected. The guy wasn’t upset or even alarmed. He was grinning, kneeling down to Freddie’s level, offering scratches and soft words as if they were old friends.

“Hey, buddy! Who’s a good boy, huh?” the guy cooed, laughing as Freddie licked his face in delight.

You finally caught up, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you bent over, hands on your knees. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you panted, grabbing Freddie to reattach his collar. “He slipped out, and I—I—”

The blond stranger stood, towering over you but with a relaxed smile that made you feel instantly at ease. “No worries at all,” he said with a soft chuckle. “This guy is awesome. He’s adorable!” He ruffled the fur behind Freddie’s ears, and your mischievous dog melted into the touch, clearly smitten.

You glanced up at the guy, momentarily distracted by his easy charm. His grin was infectious, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made your heart skip. He had this laid-back energy about him that made you feel like maybe everything was under control after all.

You couldn’t help but smile as Freddie kept lunging back toward the stranger, desperate for more pets. “Well, thank you,” you said with a soft laugh. “He’s usually much better behaved, I swear. His name’s Freddie, and he’s a lab mix.”

“Freddie, huh? You’re a handsome boy, Freddie,” the guy said, still grinning as Freddie whined and pawed at him. “What kind of mix is he?”

“Lab and maybe a bit of shepherd? I rescued him, so I’m not totally sure,” you explained as you loosened your grip on his leash, allowing Freddie to trot back over to the man.

“Well, whatever he is, he’s gorgeous,” the guy said, squatting back down to give Freddie more love. Freddie, of course, leaned right into it, practically glowing with all the attention. “I’m Will, by the way,” he added, glancing up at you with a grin.

“Oh, I’m y/n,” you replied, trying not to sound too breathless. “Nice to meet you, and thanks again for not freaking out about Freddie jumping all over you.”

Will’s smile deepened as Freddie gave a playful paw, trying to get his attention back. “Looks like Freddie’s found himself a new best friend. I’m starting to think I might need to schedule playdates for him with you.”

“I can’t say that I would hate to see this cutie again,” he said, scratching a spot under his chin that elicited a groan from Freddie. Will grinned as he looked up at you from his crouched position, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I also wouldn’t hate seeing his equally cute owner again.”

Your breath caught in your throat and a warmth crept up your neck, surprised by his comment. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a grin as you looked away, suddenly feeling a bit shy under Will’s gaze.  “Well, Freddie seems pretty taken with you,” you said, your voice a little higher than you meant it to be. 

Will chuckled and stood up, dusting off his hands. “I have that effect on dogs,” he joked, before pausing, as if thinking carefully about his next words. “But… if you're up for it, maybe we could plan one of those playdates? I mean, for Freddie of course.” He smiled, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “And, I wouldn’t mind seeing you again too.”

Your stomach did a little flip, the casual charm in his voice sending a flutter through you. You nodded, still trying to maintain your composure despite the little spark of excitement you felt building. “Yeah,” you agreed, “I think Freddie would love that. And I would too.”

Will reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Great. How about I give you my number, and we can set something up?”

You fumbled with your phone, unlocking it and handing it to him with a nervous laugh. “Here, you can just put it in.”

He quickly typed his number into your phone, then handed it back with a smile. “There. Just shoot me a text whenever you and Freddie want to hang out.”

“Will do,” you replied, grinning as you pocketed your phone.

Will knelt down one last time to ruffle Freddie’s ears. “See you soon, little guy.” Then, standing up, he shot you a sly smirk. “And you too.”

As he turned and walked away, Freddie tugged at his leash, trying to follow. You chuckled, shaking your head as you bent down to soothe him. “I know, bud,” you murmured. “He seems great, doesn’t he?”

As you started walking again, your heart still fluttering, you couldn’t help but think how unexpected this whole encounter had been. Who would’ve guessed your rambunctious dog, the one who never seemed to behave on walks, would turn out to be such a good wingman?

[tokkiwrites]

summary: you are staying with your aunt this summer. she loves talking you to places only she enjoys, so when your night together was becoming increasingly irritating, a handsome stranger shows you that jazz clubs aren't so bad.

tags: pwp, old man logan, human logan, age gap, mention of divorce, afab reader, sex with a stranger, sex in a public space, p in v unprotected (that's spooky!! don't do it), creampie, dirty talk, a few pet names, sir kink, a little breeding kink (for like a line).

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! I'm kicking this off with a logan fic because i can't be stopped. this is around 3.1k words, so i hope you enjoy it. omg, my 2nd kinktober guys, yeppeee. IF YOU SEE ANY TYPOS NO U DIDN'T

The people here don’t rush—they settle. its something you had to learn the hard way, now that your parents left you with your aunt for the summer. She enjoyed the finer things in life, like pearls that had to sit perfectly, right above her clavicle, aged whiskey with no ice in it, and jazz clubs.

"Oh, I wish I grew up during those times... the roaring twenties. Everything was much more sophisticated andㅡ what's that word..? oh, polished." she went on. "Yeah, and more racist." you perk up. "Young lady! Your dad left you with me so you can straighten your act up. Now you speak when I tell you to." her voice was stern.

"Oh, now I truly feel like I'm in the 1920s, next up, my lobotomy!" you say with a strained smile whilst doing the infamous 'jazz hands'. By the time you finish, your aunt is red in the face, and it wasn't from the absurd ammount of rouge she had on. You clear out your throat and get up from the table. "I'll go use the washroom. Sorryㅡ" the woman scoffs as you turn around and leave "We'll talk about this home."

holding in your giggles, you swiftly make your way to the bathroom, finally letting go of the laughs you were keeping down as you close the door behind you. you didn’t hate your aunt, you hated that she tried to be something she wasn't; those pearls were not 'swanky originals' as she would say when people asked, but a $7 gift from her cheating, ex-husband. then again, maybe that why she felt the need to create this persona when others are around. and maybe that's why your parents sent you away from home, as to not hear about their inevitable divorce. it's not like you were a child. you were their child, but an adult nonetheless. alas, you were 22, stuck in a jazz club with your divorcee aunt, laughing all on your own.

well, almost.

"What's so funny, young lady?" what. the. fuck. why is there a man in the woman’s bathroom? and why is he talking to you? "Excuse me, old man, this is theㅡ" you raise your voice, and you turn around to face him but the words get stuck in your throat as you lay eyes on him. he was stunning, incredibly handsomeㅡ to say the least. His dark hair, streaked with the slightest touch of silver at the temples, was slicked back with utmost precision. A neatly trimmed beard framed his strong jawline, the salt-and-pepper strands giving him a distinguished air, as if life had brushed him with just the right amount of experience without taking away any of his vitality. His eyes, a deep, knowing hue, carried the weight of someone who had seen the world, yet still found wonder in it.

"Lady? Hey, 'r you okay?" he pulls you out of your trance. "What, oh- I, yeah! What are you doing in the ladies room?" you finally speak up again and he raises one of his brows before questioning you again. "You sure? 'm pretty positive the door distinctly said 'mens room' then againㅡ" he point to the sign printed on the door "I'm just an old man, so you might be right." oh, how you regret calling him that. even though he was oldㅡ not the old you meant when you said it. with your face scrunched up you turn around and read the sign.

fuck.

"What's it say, sweetheart?" he prys as you let out a defeated sigh. "mens room.." you reply. "what's that? sorry, I'm so old I can barely hear ya." you ball up your fists in embarrassment and say it louder. "mens room."

"Yeah...mens room." you can hear the sound of his footsteps coming closer from behind you. His voice was low, teasing, the kind that sent shivers down your spine despite your frustration. You could feel him standing behind you now, the warmth of his presence far too close for comfort. His breath brushed against the back of your neck, and you bit down on your lip to suppress the strange rush of nerves rising in your chest.

"Looks like you wandered in here by mistake," he said, voice smooth and almost amused. "But I won't hold it against you. Happens to the best of us, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. There it was again, the casual endearment that somehow made your skin prickle. You turned around to face him once more, trying to muster some semblance of composure, though it was nearly impossible with him standing near you. Up close, he was even more disarming, his gaze sharp yet somehow warm, like he was in on some private joke you hadn’t quite caught on to yet.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry," he cut you off, one corner of his mouth lifting into a crooked smile that sent your pulse racing. "No harm done. Besides, it’s not every day I get to have a conversation this... interesting in a bathroom." he motions his hands around.

"I didn’t mean to call you old. That was... uncalled for."

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through the air between you. "Don't sweat it. I've been called worse, trust me. Besides, a little gray never hurt anyone, right?" He ran a hand through his hair, almost like he was flaunting it, as if daring you to disagree.

You found yourself at a loss for words again, caught between wanting to melt into the floor and the strange, undeniable attraction pulling you toward him. a little gray never hurt, indeed. "So," he continued, breaking the silence as his gaze roamed over your flustered expression. "What’s a lady like you doing in a men's room anyway? Trying to stir up trouble?"

You rolled your eyes, finally finding your footing again, and crossed your arms over your chest. "I could ask you the same thing, considering you're not exactly rushing me out of here."

"Maybe I’m just enjoying the company," he said, his voice dropping just a bit lower, sending a flutter through your stomach. "Or maybe I’m just waiting to see if you figure out how to get out of this mess." the man takes a step closer. Before you could stop yourself, you let out a small laugh. "You really are full of yourself, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he replied, stepping even closer, his voice now barely more than a murmur. "But you're still standing here, aren't you?" his palm now sitting on the small of your back, and it feels like you've been waiting for this your whole life. it was disarming, intoxicating—how effortlessly he touched you, as if he’d always known you, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady the pounding in your chest, but the way he looked at you made it impossible. His eyes, deep and piercing, held you in place, like they were pulling you into some unspoken dance, something wild and unnamed.

"Not saying much now, are you, sweetheart?" he whispered, his lips so close to your ear you could feel the heat of his breath. His fingers splayed ever so slightly against your back, and you swore you could feel your pulse thrum beneath his touch, like a melody. You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to moveㅡ to break away from him this instant, but your feet were rooted to the spot.

"I'mㅡ" you tried to speak but your voice betrayed you. The curve of his mouth shifted into a slow, devilish smile as his hand slid a fraction lower, just above your hip, a silent invitation pulling you nearer.

"See?" His voice was like velvet, wrapping around you. "Maybe you didn’t wander in here by accident after all." he tuts. "Your daddy was right, you do need straightening up, sweet thing."

"Y-You know my dad?" and he can only chuckle. "I don’t, baby," he drawled, "But that little fight you had with your aunt a few minutes ago? Well, it was heard by more ears than you think." You’d thought your quarrel was contained, tucked away in a corner where no one could witness the messy unraveling of your family drama. But apparently, you were wrong—so very wrong.

"I-It wasn't really a fight.." you huff, trying to fight the growing warmth in your core. "Right, you were just being a brat. I got that, too." your eyes find his again, heart plummeting into your chest. "I'm good with brats." god, how wrong it all felt, yet you couldn't find a way. you didn't want a way out. your aunt was waiting, but you were dripping with arousal in the arms of an older man who was a complete strangerㅡ not to forget you were in the bathroom of a bar, where anyone could walk in on you at any moment. but was it so wrong to want what's wrong?

"So...You gonna let me teach you some manners, young lady?" The words hang between you, igniting something you couldn’t name , but you felt it, burning, spreading. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. No, you didn’t want to care. you felt drawn, tethered to him by something far more primal, more consuming. The risk, the recklessness—it was intoxicating. You couldn’t deny the hunger that twisted in your belly, the way your body leaned into his touch despite the alarm bells ringing faintly in the back of your mind. Maybe you’d always been waiting for something, or someone, to break you out of the mold you were supposed to fit into.

"You're thinking too much, sweetheart," he teases, his voice low and rough, sending warmth coursing through you. "Just let go. You know you want to."

The last piece of resistance crumbles. You don't want to fight anymore. You want to see where this will go, consequences be damned. You want the wildness, the chaos, the thrill of stepping outside the boundaries you've always kept yourself within.

Without thinking, you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of defiance and submission. His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he's won some battle. "Good girl," he breathes, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. The contact sends sparks through you, and your skin burns where he touches.

"Can you at least...tell me your name? please?" You’re caught in this moment, teetering on the edge of something dangerous, and part of you needs to know who has you under their spell.

"My name’s Logan, sweet thing," he says, the name rolling off his tongue with a rough edge, like it holds more than he’s letting on. His fingers trail lightly along your shoulder and down to your cleavage, the contact making your breath hitch. "But you won’t be needing it for now," he adds. "You'll be calling be sir. Understand?" whatever happens next, you're no longer in control so you nod your head eagerly, but he isn't satisfied. "Speak, girl."

"Yes, sir." you force the words out. The moment you say it, you feel the world tilt, like something has shifted between you, pulling you further into the depths of whatever this is. The man's lips curl into a smile yet again, he reaches behind you and you close your eyes. you hear a faint click and then a soft chuckle. "Let's hope no one gets a hold of the key, wouldn't want anyone to interrupt our time here, unlessㅡ" your cheeks heat up, your thighs now pressed further together. "You'd like us to get caught, huh? Dirty girl." those last words send your head spinning and you swear you could come just from his voice alone. you never thought you'd be in a situation like this, but deep down, you wished someone just walked through that door only to see you splayed out under Logan.

without any hesitation, he spins both of you so that you are facing the large golden mirror above the counter. Logan groans, rolling his shoulders back as he bends you over the sink, your hips snug in his grip. "God, you're so fucking gorgeous, baby."

"Thank you, sir." this earns you a tug at the hair, his face right in the crook of your neck. "Say that again, baby." and you do. even if to you he's just a stranger, the need to obey him burns at your insides. you can feel his hard-on rubbing against your ass, so you press up against him making logan hiss. "You getting cocky, miss? Or are you just that excited for an old man to fuck you?"

you look down. "Please.." The man shakes his head and lands a hard smack on one of your asscheeks, making you yelp in the process. He takes his time pulling up your almost see-through dress, finally taking a look at your soaking panties that were barely covering anything. His calloused thumb makes contact with your clothed folds, dragging it up and down, in painfully slow circles. Without a warning, you hear the material rip and feel the flimsy undergarments fall on the cold tiled floor. "Pretty pussy." he mutters under his breath, undoing his trousers. he pulls them a bit down, enough for his manhood to spring free and slap against his covered bellybutton. you can see it all in the mirrorㅡ it's huge. you gasp softly as you feel him drag the tip of it against your swollen bud, and you hide your gaze, head hanging low. this doesn't last long, as you feel his rough palm grab at your face and pulling it up again. you're making eye contact with him through the mirror and you see him shake his head. "No, no. You watch while I fuck you, understand?" you shake your head, agreeing, but that isn't good enough so he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, lightly. "Words, baby, words."

"Yes, sir." he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough, turning you into a whining messㅡ truthfully you never wanted it to end, so maybe him teasing was his way of making sure this lasts. after he thinks its sufficient, logan starts to push inside, and godㅡ your breath gets stuck into your throat, from the feeling laden with thorns; every prick of discomfort is countered by an unexpected surge of delight. Your tears fall down onto the surface under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "You're okay, baby, you're okay. C'monㅡ" he assures you, asking you to surrender. "Take it all- there we go.." he praises, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. Logan moves gently at first, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements.

his hips dive down with force, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat, assuring you see how good he's destroying you. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, baby, knew you could take it." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around Logan. "Fuckㅡ sir, please.." you manage. pulling at your hair he starts "What if your sweet aunt walked in just now, huh? What ifㅡ fuck! What if she saw how good you take this cock? Yeah, nice and deep, there ya go, baby, there ya go." while thrusting relentlessly into you, your legs barely holding up anymore.

Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, giving you a chance to take in a big gasp of air. "want me to breed this pussy, huh? feel you up with my babies? let people inside this room, let them see your pussy filled with my come- you want that?" the room spins around you, body floating as if ready to plummet back down, you try your best to reply. "yes, yes- please, please, sir, I'mㅡ"

"Go ahead." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much, sir!" you say as if praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into you. The man buries himself into you as you come down from your high, body almost too limp to register your surroundings. he slaps your ass, and watches you writhe under him. With a few more snaps of his hips you know he's close, nails digging roughly into your skin as he finally paints your walls with white ropes. "God fucking dammit!" you know that you'll be bruised tomorrow.

the bathroom feels sticky, and the mirror in front of you is all fogged up, but you can just barely make out your face, all tearstained and messy. You moan as he pulls out, the sudden feeling of emptiness leaving you shivering. Logan watches intently as his seed drips out of you, your body beautifully splayed out right under him. You squeeze around nothing, licking your lips, as you feel the warm beads of come trickling from inside of you, down your thighs. you're both quiet for a bit, catching your breaths. you feel like you are floating.

The sounds of the world fade away, leaving just the echo of your heartbeats. The weight of what just happened presses down on you both, thick and suffocating as you exchange glances through the mirror. Finally, you break the silence. “What do we do now?” The realization sinks in. What's done is done. "We clean you up and pray no one heard anything, baby." Logan laughs reassuringly, sensing the uncertainty in your voice.

maybe jazz clubs nights with your aunt aren't so bad after all.

[actual-changeling]

Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner, and today I have something surprisingly not kiss-related—though it is still about the final fifteen because hey, gotta keep the brand image.

I read this post by @goodoldfashionednightingale and began typing a small response. Then I made the mistake of drinking half a litre of coffee on an empty stomach right after taking my adhd meds and my brain began vibrating at the speed of light.

But oh, have I discovered parallels. This, my friends, is about the nightingale, where it comes from, what it means, and what the fuck happened in part 3 of 1941.

Ready? Let's go.

Now, as OP said in her post, s1e3 is important. In the script book, Neil himself says that these flashbacks are where the producers would tell him to cut scenes to save money. They suggested every single one—except for the one he ended up taking out, which was the bookshop opening scene set in 1800. The others are building blocks, you need them to see how their relationship progressed and what kind of important milestones they had.

(side note: author is very miffed that english does not have a separate subjunctive form like german which makes quoting lines way more confusing than it has to be)

The one I want to mention is neither 1941 nor 1967. No, what I want to talk about is 1601. This might be about to get a bit rambly but I will do my best to keep it tidy.

The focus of that flashback is on the Arrangement, yes, but it gives us a lot more information than that.

they both see Shakespeare's plays regularly, maybe even meet in the crowd

Crowley prefers the comedies

Aziraphale does not seem to have a preference, he enjoys the tragedies and presumably the comedies too

there is an oyster woman selling food -> reference to their meeting in Rome when Aziraphale tempted him to try some oysters

Aziraphale reflexively denies their relationship

Crowley might say he is not worried but circles Aziraphale the entire time, keeping watch

they both ask favours of each other and both agree to do them

What stands out to me in relation to what I am about to expand on is the line that Crowley delivers after Aziraphale's little 'buck up'—which Crowley finds adorable btw but that's a post for another time.

"Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety."

Why would he say that? What exactly is prompting this? WHY say that specific line?

At first I thought it might be to tempt Shakespeare because he does commit art theft by just copying that line down, BUT I think there is more to that. So much more, in fact. I am wiggling now because I am very excited about this and my adhd meds are kicking in anyway.

First things first: the line itself.

It appears in Shakespeare's play Antony and Cleopatra, a romantic tragedy, which was first performed in 1607 aka six years after this meeting. Enobarbus is talking about Cleopatra and describing why Antony won't leave her. Her.

Ccrowley uses his—again, who is he even talking about? Hamlet? Shakespeare? Random poetic quote?

No, I think this line is about Aziraphale and it's a code. Right after, the next line from Aziraphale is "What do you want?", meaning that this is their code phrase for 'I have a favour to ask of you'.

Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety

Age will not affect his appearance nor will he ever become boring to Antony. Crowley, who later chooses the name Anthony for himself, tells Aziraphale, an immortal, that he will never age and that he will never grow bored of him.

It's flattery, pure and simple, and it's code at the same time. This establishes the important fact that they might use more of Shakespeare's work as code/already have a system in place (even though he steals Crowley's line for later).

They play their little morality game of back and forth, Aziraphale agrees, Crowley probably manipulates the coin toss, and THEN we find out that the oyster woman is called Juliet.

Why? What is the meaning of that? Why give her a name and that name in particular? Why bring the sexy oysters back into it?

Romeo and Juliet premiered in 1597, so it is safe to assume they have both seen it by 1601, but this is mostly for the audience, not for us-or is it?

Aziraphale gives Crowley puppy eyes until he agrees to make Hamlet popular, and while I don't think Juliet itself is a code word, although it's very interesting that the OYSTER woman is the one with that name (especially adding what we now know about Job), Romeo and Juliet might be.

Yes, the Nightingale song came out in 1940 but the bird has been around for much, much longer, and, as many probably know by now, also shows up in Romeo and Juliet.

This is where I am starting to vibrate at the speed of light because listen to me. Listen.

Crowley is Juliet. Anthony J. Crowley. Antony Juliet Crowley.

(side note: I'm not saying that Crowley chose it based on that—though I am not not saying that—but that it is a clue for us at the audience.)

Why do I think that? In the play, Romeo spends the night with Juliet and then goes to leave as the night begins to end. Juliet tries to stop him and tells him that the birds they are hearing aren't larks, which sing at dawn, but nightingales, which sing at night.

Who is the one always pushing for more? Crowley. He is the one trying to convince Aziraphale it's safe, they're safe to spend time together.

Romeo disagrees with Juliet and says 'I must be gone and live, or stay and die'.

Leave and stay alive, or stay and hell/heaven will punish us. It gets even better though.

We all know how Romeo and Juliet ends: Romeo thinks Juliet is dead, kills himself, Juliet finds him and then kills herself too.

Hey, do you know how Antony and Cleopatra ends?

Antony thinks Cleopatra is dead, kills himself and dies in her arms, then Cleopatra also kills herself—by snake poison; Romeo also died by poison.

The parallels are THERE. They are jumping down our throats! Two tragedies, two sides, several familiar names and phrases, same fear, same ending.

I think by now you can guess how this ties back to 1941.

We do not see how that night ends, but we know it ends. One of them wants to stretch it out, maybe even quotes Romeo and Juliet because look at the setting!

Candlelight, wonderful night they spend together, the threat of Crowley's early demise, and, to quote the play once more, this time Romeo: I have more care to stay than will to go.

Crowley thought it was his last night on earth and went with Aziraphale to his bookshop, to be with him, because he cares more about that than the fact that he will be dragged to hell come morning. Do you remember?

"Expect a legion to come for you first thing tomorrow" THAT is the threat. They have until dawn, just like Romeo and Juliet, which is why she is so desperate for the birds to be nightingales. Fortunately for them, Aziraphale saves the day, BUT there is NO SECURITY. They do not KNOW if a legion will still show up or not. If dawn is a deadline and they will need to fight.

Sure, they improved their chances, but who knows? Maybe they will come for him anyway, it's not like hell is all fair and square.

The best part: it gets even better.

Juliet eventually panics and tells him to go, and Romeo drops a line that huh, sounds oddly familiar, doesn't it?

'More light and light, more dark and dark our woes!'

Remind me, what does Aziraphale say again? Ah, yes. Perhaps there is something to be said for shades of grey.

There is more. Yes, even more. We know the whole rescue relies on a magic trick, a switch. Guess what Juliet yearns for while telling Romeo to go save himself?

Oh, now I would they had changed voices too. While they did not for Romeo and Juliet—they kiss and part—they did for our two. One fabulous switch and we're good.

(side note: Toads? Associated with hell. Larks? Associated with the dawn, yes, but also heaven since Romeo says 'Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat the vaulty heaven so high above our heads.')

So, this was a whole lot of information, let's see if I can summarize my thoughts.

I believe the nightingale is a code word that has existed even before 1941 and gained a lot of importance over the years. In 1941, the song is added to the meaning and whatever happened between the two that we have not seen yet, it fundamentally changed their relationship. Maybe they kissed, maybe one of them tried to convince the other to prolong the night but they parted on not-great terms.

The nightingale and the song become a symbol of hope, a goal to achieve, another uninterrupted night, maybe, or an uninterrupted life.

When they part in the final fifteen, it's morning. Crowley points at the sky and says "no nightingales", which at that point has several different layers to it.

No nightingales because their night is over, just like with Romeo and Juliet, and please, please allow me to add another detail, because I am frothing at the mouth over this. The scene I quoted, known as balcony scene, do you know what it is preceded by?

A ball.

Star-crossed lovers defying their sides, falling in love at a ball, getting a hurried, wonderful night together but torn apart by danger of punishment, the nightingale as a dream, as a wish for unhurried time together. Family rejection, torn apart by parents, willing to die for each other so they can reunite in death.

No nightingales. The ball, the romance, is over, their dancing is over, heaven is tearing them apart, and Aziraphale returns to heaven while they are both stuck in a pit of misunderstanding and miscommunication, all bound together by fear for each other.

The thing is, Crowley hates tragedies, he never liked the "gloomy ones", and he does not want them to end in one—luckily, this isn't the end. Yes, they kiss and part, but the play keeps going. We have an entire act 3 to fix what Romeo and Juliet couldn't, to ensure that this is a COMEDY, not a tragedy.

Both Antony & Cleopatra and Romeo & Juliet died out of fear, hurried into making bad decisions because they knew what would happen if their sides were to catch up with them.

Crowley and Aziraphale can reunite heaven and hell with love, not death. This is THEIR story and they are writing the ending. No more day and night, no more deadlines, no more hiding and sneaking about, no more fear of larks and sunshine.

Good Omens will end the way it began: In a garden with two no-longer-star-crossed lovers embracing the song of a lark as well as that of the nightingale.

I hope this made sense to everyone who was no present while my mind started to vibrate itself into a puddle because the thing is I can see Neil doing all of this completely on purpose.

Thoughts? Questions? Additions? Come and join me in my insanity and until next time I have a mental breakdown over this show (probably in like two hours).

[irisintheafterglow]

he's the death you chose (you're in terrible danger)

summary: married life with husband!gojo means cleaning up bodies at 2am.

wc: 1k

cw/tags: mentions of violence, blood, and deaths (nothing graphic), mild angst/comfort with happy ending, some swearing, yes this is the albatross coded

note: honestly not sure where this came from! was just listening to ttpd and thought about what being married to gojo realistically would be like (aka always being targeted as his weakness that it becomes routine). hope you like it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

Wise men once said, “Don’t sleep with your windows open,” and you should have listened to them. If you had, there wouldn’t be three dead mercenaries in your living room, and another somewhere in your kitchen. There were five, originally, but you figured the last one was being hunted down a hallway as he tried to escape your building. The blood-spotted microwave’s clock reads 2:08 when you glance at it to grab cleaning supplies from the cupboard. 2:10 is when Satoru re-enters the apartment and kicks off his shoes. 

“I called Ijichi; he’s sending over cleaners right now,” he says, carefully stepping around the blood and curse guts splattered on the floorboards. Stray drops of who knows what speckle the photos on the bookshelf and he wipes them with his sleeve, scowling. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” 

“Yeah, there’d probably be less of a mess,” you admit, wiping down the kitchen island and guiding the crumbs and dust into the trash. “But they’d still be dead, so I guess it doesn’t really matter in the end.” 

“You handled yourself pretty well for being out of the country for a few months,” he adds appreciatively, retrieving the carpet cleaner from under the sink and sprinkling it onto the living room floor. “I still think it’d be better if you lived on-campus, though.” He squints in the pale moonlight at the pile of abrasive powder and decides to dump a little bit more for good measure. 

“I know–Hey, what’d I tell you about wasting the carpet cleaner? A little goes a long way, remember?” Satoru sets the tube down and puts his hands up in surrender, reaching back and tightening his blindfold before he approaches you in the kitchen. “I can hear your thoughts as they make their way to your mouth, dear.” 

“Look, I know what you’re gonna say–”

“Don’t ask what you’re about to ask, then, if you already know the answer,” you interject with that lightning-quick wit he adored so much. You move to grab the broom from next to the fridge, but he gently catches your wrist and turns you to face him. 

“You’d be safer there,” he continues and you pull your lips into a tight line. 

“Only place I’m safe is wherever I'm with you, realistically.” You had a point. In any other circumstance, the sentiment would be sweet if it wasn’t horribly true. You’d heard time and time again from Satoru how he stared restlessly at the ceiling, anxious about what danger might be coming wherever you were. He theorizes that the higher-ups promoted you to spite him, to have you travel even more often than he was and visit more places across the globe than any seasoned sorcerer would be comfortable with. Phone calls weren’t enough to verify that you were safe; he had to see you, feel you, know you were alive. “This is, what, the second time this month? The first time was when I came back from Paris, right?”

“I don’t think that was this month. It might’ve been the last week of the month prior. Monaco, maybe?”

“Eh, same thing. They always come after me when I get back from Europe. You think they’re trying to catch me off guard or something?”

“I don’t know if we can predict a schedule with these guys, babe,” he grimaces. As much as he liked that you were making light of the situation, the churning in his gut about what could have happened if he didn’t come was too painful to ignore. “Your dad would kill me if he saw how much danger I put you in.” 

“It’s a step up than sneaking me out of the third story of the house, I’ll admit,” you tease. How you could still find humor in times like these, he could never fathom. It’d taken months to convince your father to let Satoru court you, let alone marry you. To your family, he was an impediment, an obstacle, and, unfortunately, the love of your life. “Maybe even as bad as the food poisoning you got from that one place in Sendai.”

“I don’t think ‘in sickness and in health’ is supposed to apply to attempted assassinations. Food poisoning and sprained ankles, sure, but that other one toes the line a little too much.” The frequency of your life in danger was why he wanted you to live full-time on one of the Jujutsu Tech campuses and become a teacher, like him. Sure, a selfish part of him wanted you closer all the time, but he’d pick your safety over your proximity any day. 

“How far are the cleaners?” You yawn, washing your hands at the sink and scanning for everything in your home that needs to be wiped or scrubbed. 

“Ten minutes, tops. I can wait for them if you wanna go back to bed.” He knew you weren’t going to take him up on his offer. You were never able to sleep properly after attempts like this unless he was in the same room. “Though I know you won’t.”

“Isn’t it a little fucked up that we know how the rest of these nights usually go?” You chuckle, a soft, airy sound that takes some of the weight off of Satoru’s chest. You were truly sunlight incarnate and he was the darkest, unseen side of the moon. 

“I’d say this is all my fault, honestly.” You look at him curiously and he shrugs. “I’m the one who made you fall in love with me, after all.” 

“By that logic, I’m also partially to blame,” you point out, flashing him the ring on your left hand. The glow of cursed energy Satoru had embedded into the gemstones glows like Christmas lights in the darkness. The energy was more concentrated than your own body’s natural reserves, allowing him to pinpoint you immediately as long as you were wearing it. Danger and plans A through Z, and everything in between that came with marrying the strongest sorcerer in existence. “I can’t count the number of people who warned me about you.”  

“Why didn’t you listen to them?” 

“Because they’re not you,” you smile. “If you say that you’ll keep me safe, then I trust you to keep your word.” Sunlight incarnate, he thinks again, and God help anyone who tries to block you from him.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[itsnothingofinterest]

This is probably a weird note to end my time with MHA's run on; but I find it so strange how I still see people calling Tomura out on just being a destruction-hungry villain with supposedly no plan or follow up...as though he is unique for that simplicity. Especially after the ending we got. Like, Deku and All Might never really had a plan when they were reshaping society by beating up the enemy and everything worked out fine for them, but does anyone call them out for just using violence to mindlessly solve everything with no further plan? (Well, yes. Me. Right now.)

Because like, really thinking about it; how different was All Might's plan from the start of his career to take down AFO and become a symbol, and Deku's plan to end the villains and bring everything back, from Shigaraki's plan to end hero society and bring about a world accommodating to the League? It all seemed to boil down to the same basic premise of Step 1) Beat everyone & everything making things worse, Step 2) ...it all just kind of works out from there. (I guess All Might planned on being inspiring and uplifting, but then we could also count Tomura's plan to be imposing and...uplifting but for different people. Deku was winging it every step of the way though.) Everyone's getting on Tomura's case for doing nothing but destroying; but all evidence from when the heroes do it suggests violence & destruction works. And it just never fails to bug me when people call Tomura out for stuff that's fine when heroes do it.

Which, yeah, let's touch on how it did just work out for Deku that way for no logical reason, least of all anything he planned. He punched out the big bad just like All Might and now things are like a hundred times better than they were under All Might with no more Tenkos abandoned in the street. If stuff like that just happens if you punch out your enemies hard enough, then why couldn't that happen for Tomura? Maybe if he had destroyed the government & hero society it would've, idk, been so fear/awe-inspiring that all the villains would've been nice and cooperative under the PLF and everything would've been fine. Or something. No more contrived than what we saw with the old lady plot line, MHA is just a series where that stuff works out. Heck, one time it actually did just work out that way for Tomura:

Again, violence and destruction works in MHA. I mean; duh, it's a shonen manga.

Plus all this is ignoring the fact that, unlike those two, Tomura did have a follow up to the violence. He did have a step two, or at least one & a half, after "beat down all the bad guys in the country." Rather than just going "and everything will work out from there," he had his guys plan for the future so he could say "and Spinner, Toga, and RD et. all will make sure everything works out from there." (Admittedly, not much; but also, not hopes and dreams.) He did have a plan, it was just the plan from the Overahul arc, where he was last asked to have a plan: leave it to his allies.

And hey, that means it's actually better than what we saw from genius All Might and brainiac Deku. So why are we still, even after everything was over, acting like there's some expectation as a villain he didn't meet? I guess it's just in the nature of a 'tantrum-having man-child who wants nothing but destruction' to put more forethought into the future he wants to build than the society-uplifting greatest heroes.

That or maybe everyone had really detailed follow-ups for when they won that Hori never went much into, but that'd render this post a bit pointless so shhh.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Helloooo your recs give me life. You’ve probably done this before, but any recommendations for fics that include a brutally pining Derek and oblivious Stiles? Ideally canon-verse but aus are also loved. Thanks in advance!!

I'm sure I have, but I love pining in all fics. So I'm happy to make a million lists of it.

Fun by Halevetica

(1/1 I 3,889 I Teen)

Stiles convinces Derek to go to the annual Beacon Hills bonfire with him, with the promise of fun. What he gets instead are a lot of assumptions that he and Stiles are dating, and Stiles' too-eager dismissals, which are decidedly NOT fun for Derek.

Game On by stilinskisparkles

(1/1 I 6,391 I Teen)

Derek first sees him from across the quad four days into fall semester. He’s sitting on one of the long benches, a marker pen in his mouth, grinning at something the kid lounging on the bench beside him is saying. When he laughs properly he pulls the pen out and throws his head back, his neck a long, lean line Derek is entranced by. He flicks the page in his book and highlights something, tossing the cap up in the air and catching it with his teeth.

Written in the Stars by Quixoticity

(6/6 I 26,586 I Mature)

Derek Hale is a lucky guy. He's got a great family, good friends, and a fulfilling job as a tattoo artist.

He's also one of the twenty-five per cent of the population born with a soul mark.

He likes his life, but he's waiting for his soul-match. The odds of meeting them aren't great but hey, Derek's a lucky guy. He has faith.

He can't believe how good his luck really is when one day his soul-match wanders right into his studio, all long limbs and copper eyes. There's just one problem: Stiles is there to get his soul mark covered up. Permanently.

Mating Habits of the Domesticated North American Werewolf by lielabell

(5/5 I 35,458 I Mature)

Derek doesn’t do pining. He doesn’t. So when it becomes clear that Stiles is much more interested in having Derek as a new best friend than a boyfriend, he puts on his big boy pants and makes it fucking work. He becomes the best goddamn friend a spastic teenager could ever hope to have.

too busy being yours to fall for somebody new by whiry

(12/12 I 64,278 I Teen)

Stiles, worried that Scott may actually leave him behind because of his newfound popularity, is desperate to cling to something away from the drama of Lydia Martin's amazing parties and the woes of high school lacrosse. What he finds is Derek Hale, a guy who seemingly hates Stiles at first, but slowly, and insistently, becomes friends with him. As their friendship grows, Stiles starts to wonder if they could ever become something more or if pushing what they have will lead him to being alone for good.

All the Weird Kids (Know How to Take it Slow) by Ionaonie

(26/26 I 112,477 I General)

Stiles never thought being part of a werewolf Pack would end up being so normal. Even being around Derek had a degree of normality about it. Even if he was still an overbearing jerk most of the time.

When it all comes crumbling down by Littleredridinghunter

(18/18 I 216,191 I Not Rated)

Stiles is recovering from the Nogitsune. Erica is the only one that is really there for him, Scott's too busy rekindling his relationship with Allison and Stiles feels like he's falling apart.

When a near-miss with a kelpie results in an encounter that he could never have predicted, Stiles begins to think his life might be getting back on track.

He's wrong.

Stiles' life is so messed up he can't even begin to explain it, maybe it's time for him to finally do something for himself and get out of Beacon Hills. But where will that path lead?

With Stiles involved, no doubt danger and death won't be far behind.

AND

@the-diggler and @adventures-in-mangaland suggested this one!

Safety in Silence by Survivah

(5/5 I 66,901 I Mature)

It's perfectly understandable. Even Derek wouldn't want to be Derek's soulmate.

[outsideratheart]

Fear of Failure (Alessia Russo x reader)

A/N: An Alessia Russo fic after I go see Arsenal is becoming a thing.

You had felt like a failure after losing the World Cup Final. It was you job as captain to lead and as a striker to score. When the 90 minutes were over you felt like you did neither. 

The pain you felt was tough but it failed in comparison to what you felt when you saw Alessia crying. If possible, her eyes were a brighter shade of blue due to the tears she had shed. 

“Come on. Let’s go in” Alessia tried to take your hand but you pulled away. 

“I’m going to stay out here. I can’t face them” you walk away leaving Alessia stood alone until Ella comes. 

Your relationship was Alessia was very new even though the feelings you had for each other were anything but. It was the first time she had seen you like this and she didn’t know what to do. 

The lockeroom is quiet but goes silent as you walk in. You ignore the eyes on you as you head into the ice bath where Lucy is waiting for you. 

“What should I do?” Alessia asks Lotte knowing that the defender has experience with you at a club level.  

“Give her time. She’ll come to you when she’s ready” it was wise advice and Alessia listened to it. 

You came to her when she was on the coach. She left the seat free next to her and you happily slid in. You didn’t say anything but you didn’t pull away when Alessia held you hand. She saw that as a good sign. 

She thought that once you were back in England and at Arsenal that you might have cheered up but that wasn’t the case. You were focused on the champions league qualifiers. So much so that you were working yourself into the ground. 

The whole team knew it was a cruel form of punishment for the summer so they told Jonas who promised to keep an eye on you. 

The first game comes 17 days after the final. You had missed a penalty in the first half but you were relentless after that. Arsenal get the win yet you cannot bring yourself to celebrate. This is what you expected when you play a team like Linköping. You did however make the extra effort to celebrate your girlfriend’s debut. 

“Girls” you stand up gaining the attention of the entire team “to Alessia who is now officially a member of the Arsenal” 

“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen her smile since Australia” Lotte nudges the woman in question. 

“It is and even now I don’t think it’s real” Alessia was really begin to worry about you. Everyone you normally talk to isn’t here. Leah, Beth and Viv will meet the team in Germany. Your girlfriend is hoping that once you’re around them then something will change. 

When you line up against Paris FC you expect the same result but you find yourself two nil down until the final ten minutes. Alessia gets a goal and hopes you celebrate with her but by the time she finds you, you have the ball in your hand and are running back to the spot. Your determination is rewarded as you score in injury time. Paris then take a lead but you manage to get one back and the game is sent to penalties.

It ends with Arsenal losing and you are quick to blame yourself for the loss. It feels like yet another reason why you are a failure.

“Hey” Alessia tries to get your attention as you walk down the tunnel but she gets not response. She doesn’t give up though “Y/N” her voice is a slightly more serious tone.

“Less, please, I can’t” you cannot meet her eyes.

“Can’t what? Talk to me.” The blonde asks. You were never one to hide from her. Maybe other people but you were always open with her.

“No” 

The whole locker room goes silent. A moment that seemed to be private was being held out in the open. 

“Why?” 

“Because I don’t want to!” She didn’t deserve you to snap at her “I cannot have you look at me like I’m broken”

“Y/N, you are—“

“Not good enough, I need to be better. Please leave me alone so I can be better” 

The next couple of days you were worryingly quiet. You may have spoken to Alessia but you didn’t really say much.

When you landed in Germany you pulled Jonas aside. He told you that you would be rooming with Alessia for the duration of the trip and that it would be a trial for future away games. 

“I need you to split me and Alessia up” you told your coach.

“Y/N, I have no issue with your relationship with Alessia. You told me as soon as you knew she was joining the club and I trust you to be professional” 

“I don’t mean our relationship, god no. I mean I cannot share a room with her. Jonas I am struggling right now and I cannot put that on her”

“Ok. If that is what you think is best then I’ll put you with Lia” 

“Thanks coach”

It was hard for Alessia to see you pull away from her but you did. She noticed that you spent more time with the injured players than you did her. The only person she felt comfortable talking to about this was Lotte as she knew her well and Lotte knew you.

“I don’t get what I did wrong. I know she is struggling and I want to be there for her but she won’t talk to me, not about that anyways”

“She loves you Alessia, anybody with a set of eyes can see that, and you know that she isn’t good about asking for help”

“She’s talking to Leah and Beth though. Why is she ok talking to them but not to me?” 

“She isn’t talk to them, she is talking with Viv or at least that is what i’m guessing. Viv is the person Y/N goes to when she doesn’t know what she is feeling. Once she figures that out then she will come to you”

Lotte saw you do the exact same thing when you lost the Champions League semi final. It took you a few days to come to terms with what happened and even then you still blamed yourself.

“I hope so Lotte because I can’t stand to see her hurting and knowing that I can’t do anything to help her”

Meanwhile you were in your therapy session with Viv in one of the quiet areas, or at least that is what it felt like. The Dutch woman was patient with you and listened when you needed to talk. She didn’t ask questions unless you asked her one. 

“I failed everyone Viv. First England and now Arsenal. That hurts enough but to know that I have failed the person I love most in the world, that is not something I can handle. I feel like I’m on the verge of breaking and she shouldn’t have to deal with that”

“Have you stopped to think maybe she wants to? I know you struggle with these kind of things but this is the first time you are going though it whilst having a girlfriend. You need to stop seeing her as a team mate because she is so much more than that now”

You hated how right Viv was. You have opened up to Alessia before and she didn’t love you any less when you showed your vulnerable side.

Your girlfriend had accepted that you would come to her when you were ready and now she just wanted to be with you. Only problem is that she couldn’t find you. She had asked every player and staff member yet none of them could give her the answer she was looking for. Then she saw Viv leave one of the physio rooms and between the crack of the door and the door frame she saw you. 

For the first time in a long while you looked into her eyes and let her see the pain behind yours. You watch as she hesitated on the other side of the threshold. 

“Come here” 

Alessia all but ran you to you. Whilst you stayed seated on the physio table, she took a stand between your legs. With her arms wrapped around your neck, her fingers begin playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. 

“I’m struggling Lessi. I felt like a failure after Australia and I thought I would be able to redeem myself this season at Arsenal but I’ve failed again” 

“Thank you for telling me” 

When she leans down you don’t pull away. You feel your shoulder relax as her lips touch yours. 

“You’re not a failure. You lead the lionesses to their first World Cup final and I think that is an amazing achievement” 

How could you believe her? She was your girlfriend, never would she admit you let her down. 

“I failed you. I wanted to win for so many reasons but you were one of my biggest motivations, you always are. I wanted to win so that I could see the smile on your face as you lift the trophy like you did at the euros. Instead I watched you cry”

“You know one of the things that annoys me the most about you?” Alessia asks and you feel your stomach drop “you are one of the biggest hypocrites I know” 

“I am not” you defend yourself and rightly so. 

“You are when it comes to football. It’s both a good thing and a bad thing. You always say how we are a team, win or lose we do it as a team. After we played Australia in Brentford, Leah blamed herself. You told her that a loss is not one persons fault” 

“It’s not” 

“Baby, do you hear yourself?” 

You did hear yourself and you realise what your girlfriend was insinuating. 

“I just wanted to do good” 

“You did. You did so good. Right now though we have to process what happened and move on” Alessia knew that you would talk about your failures all night and maybe that’s what you needed. She also knew that you needed to find closure before it destroyed you. 

“And how do we do that?”

“Together” you laugh at her cheesiness “I mean it. I knew I’d learn things at Arsenal but I didn’t think the first one would be that my girlfriend doesn’t come to me when she’s hurting” 

“I’m sorry. It’s hard for me to open up to people. I don’t like people seeing me weak, definetley not you” 

At first thought that hurt Alessia and she is about to tell you that much but you cut her off. 

“I am going to try though. I don’t want to shut you out anymore. For the last couple of days I’ve missed being with you and I don’t want to feel that again. I can’t promise that I will tell you everything, not right now, but I will let you in Less” 

This seemed to be enough for your girlfriend because she pulls you up so she can give you a proper hug. 

“I’m here and you won’t push me away again. I won’t let you” Alessia’s voice was adamant and you never argue with the blonde when she used that tone. 

“I love you Alessia. Do you think we could go away somewhere just the two of us? We have a couple of days off when we get home and I need some time away from football. I’m in desperate needs of some quality Alessia Russo time” 

“You know what? Now that I think of it, I am long over due some one on one time with you. How about we go get some food then you can come my room, the room you will be moving into, and we can look at some places?” 

You agree with the forward and take her hand as you leave the room. When the two of you walk through the campus restaurant everyone notices the closeness between you and how your hands are intertwined. They also saw a smile of both of your faces, a smile that they were yet to see in Germany. 

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Hey! I was reading on your character arcs and was wondering how you would write character regression over the course of the story :)

Hey there, fellow writer! Thanks so much for your message. Sorry, this response took so long. But, I'm thrilled that you found my posts on character arcs helpful, and I'm excited to dive into the topic of character regression with you. It's a fascinating and complex aspect of storytelling that can add so much depth to our narratives when done well.

What is Character Regression?

Before we dive into the nitty-gritty, let's define what we mean by character regression. In essence, character regression is the opposite of character growth or development. It's when a character moves backwards in terms of their personal growth, beliefs, or behavior. They might lose skills they once had, revert to old, harmful patterns, or abandon positive traits they've developed.

This doesn't mean your character simply becomes "worse" or "evil." Regression is a nuanced process that can happen for various reasons and manifest in different ways. It's about your character losing ground on their personal journey, facing setbacks, or struggling with challenges that push them back towards old habits or mindsets.

Why Use Character Regression?

Now, you might be wondering, "Why would I want my character to regress? Isn't that the opposite of what we usually aim for in storytelling?" Great question! While it's true that we often focus on character growth, regression can be an incredibly powerful tool in your storytelling toolkit. Here's why:

Realism: Let's face it, real life isn't a straight line of constant improvement. We all face setbacks, make mistakes, and sometimes fall back into old patterns. Including regression in your character's journey can make them feel more authentic and relatable.

Conflict and Tension: Regression can create internal conflict for your character and tension in your story. It gives your character something to struggle against, adding depth to their arc.

Emotional Impact: Watching a character we care about struggle or backslide can be incredibly emotional for readers, creating a strong connection to the story.

Set-up for Greater Growth: Sometimes, a character needs to hit rock bottom before they can truly grow. Regression can set the stage for even more significant character development later in the story.

Exploring Complex Themes: Character regression allows you to delve into themes like addiction, trauma, fear of change, or the difficulty of personal growth.

How to Write Character Regression

Alright, now that we've covered the what and why, let's get into the how. Writing character regression requires a delicate touch and careful planning. Here are some steps and tips to help you navigate this tricky terrain:

(Beware Very Long Post!)

Establish a Baseline

Before you can show regression, you need to establish where your character starts. What skills do they have? What are their core beliefs and values? What positive traits define them? This baseline will be crucial for showing how the character changes over time.

For example, let's say we have a character named Alex who starts the story as a confident, outgoing person with a strong sense of right and wrong. This is our baseline. (I will be using "Alex" as an example character for the remainder of the post)

Identify the Catalyst

Regression doesn't happen in a vacuum. There's usually a triggering event or series of events that start the process. This could be a traumatic experience, a significant loss, a series of failures, or even a gradual wearing down of the character's resolve.

In Alex's case, maybe they witness a horrific crime that shakes their faith in humanity and the justice system.

Show Gradual Changes

Regression, like growth, usually happens gradually. Start with small changes in behavior, thought patterns, or reactions to situations. These should be subtle at first, things that the character (and maybe even the reader) might not immediately notice.

Alex might start being a little less friendly to strangers, or hesitate before helping someone in need – small shifts that hint at bigger changes to come.

Internal Conflict

As the character begins to regress, show their internal struggle. They likely won't be happy about these changes and might fight against them. This internal conflict can be a great source of tension and character depth.

Alex might berate themselves for their newfound hesitation, trying to force themselves to be the person they used to be.

External Consequences

The character's regression should have real consequences in their world. How does it affect their relationships? Their job? Their role in the main plot of your story?

Maybe Alex's friends start to notice their withdrawal and become concerned. Or perhaps their hesitation in a crucial moment leads to negative consequences in the main plot.

Escalation

As the story progresses, the regression should become more pronounced. The character might start to rationalize their behavior, or fully embrace their new, regressed self.

Alex might start actively avoiding social situations, or develop a cynical worldview that contrasts sharply with their former optimism.

Rock Bottom

In many stories with character regression, there's a "rock bottom" moment – a point where the regression reaches its peak. This is often a powerful, emotional scene that fully illustrates how far the character has fallen.

For Alex, this might be a moment where they refuse to help someone in danger, fully betraying their former values.

Potential for Redemption

Even if your story ends with the character in a regressed state, it can be powerful to show a glimmer of their former self. This hints at the potential for future growth and can leave the reader with a sense of hope (or tragedy, if that potential is never realized).

Maybe in Alex's darkest moment, they have a flicker of doubt about their new worldview, or a memory of who they used to be.

Tips for Writing Effective Character Regression

Now that we've covered the general process, here are some additional tips to help you write compelling character regression:

Keep it Believable: The reasons for the regression should make sense for the character and the story. Don't have a character completely change overnight without good reason.

Show, Don't Tell: Instead of simply stating that a character has regressed, show it through their actions, thoughts, and dialogue.

Use Supporting Characters: Other characters can serve as mirrors, reflecting the changes in your regressing character and providing commentary on those changes.

Maintain Sympathy: Even as your character regresses, try to maintain reader sympathy. Help the reader understand why the character is making these choices, even if they don't agree with them.

Consider the Pacing: Regression can happen at different speeds. It might be a slow burn throughout the story, or a rapid descent following a major event. Choose the pacing that works best for your narrative.

Don't Forget the Positives: Regression doesn't mean a character loses all their positive traits. They might still show flashes of their old self, adding complexity to their portrayal.

Use Metaphors and Symbolism: Visual cues, recurring motifs, or symbolic elements can help underscore the character's regression in subtle ways.

Explore Different Types of Regression: Regression can be moral, emotional, professional, or related to specific skills or relationships. Mix and match for a nuanced portrayal.

Common Pitfalls to Avoid

As with any writing technique, there are some common pitfalls to watch out for when writing character regression:

Making it Too Sudden: Unless there's a massively traumatic event, regression usually doesn't happen overnight. Be careful not to have your character change too quickly without proper buildup.

Losing Reader Sympathy: If your character's regression makes them completely unlikeable, you risk losing reader investment. Always strive to keep them understandable, even if not always sympathetic.

Inconsistent Motivation: Make sure the reasons for your character's regression remain consistent and logical within the context of your story.

Ignoring the Impact on Plot: Remember that character regression should impact your main story. Don't let it become a subplot that doesn't connect to the main narrative.

Overdoing It: Regression doesn't mean your character has to become a completely different person. Maintain some core aspects of their personality to keep them recognizable.

Examples from Literature and Media

Sometimes, it helps to see how other writers have handled character regression. Here are a few examples you might find inspiring:

Walter White from "Breaking Bad": His transformation from mild-mannered teacher to drug kingpin is a masterclass in character regression.

Daenerys Targaryen from "Game of Thrones": Her descent into ruthlessness in the final season is a controversial but noteworthy example of character regression.

Oscar Wilde's Dorian Gray: His moral decay over the course of the novel is a classic example of character regression in literature.

Michael Corleone in "The Godfather": His transformation from war hero to ruthless mafia boss is a powerful portrayal of moral regression.

Studying these and other examples can give you ideas on how to handle regression in your own writing.

Final Thoughts

Writing character regression can be challenging, but it's also an incredibly rewarding aspect of storytelling. It allows us to explore the complexities of human nature, the fragility of personal growth, and the myriad ways that life can shape and reshape us. When done well, it can create some of the most memorable and impactful characters in literature.

Remember, there's no one "right" way to write character regression. The key is to make it authentic to your character and your story. Let it grow organically from the events of your plot and the unique personality of your character. And most importantly, don't be afraid to dig deep into the messy, complicated aspects of human nature.

As writers, we have the privilege and responsibility of reflecting the full spectrum of human experience in our work. Character regression is a part of that spectrum, and embracing it can lead to richer, more nuanced storytelling.

Balancing Regression and Reader Expectations

One thing to keep in mind as you write character regression is the balance between realistic portrayal and reader expectations. Readers often come to stories expecting character growth, so a character who regresses can be jarring or even frustrating if not handled carefully.

Here are a few strategies to help manage this:

Foreshadowing: Hint at the potential for regression early in the story. This can help prepare readers for what's to come.

Clear Motivation: Make sure the reasons for the regression are clear and understandable, even if not agreeable.

Moments of Hope: Intersperse moments where the character shows glimmers of their former self or potential for growth. This can help maintain reader investment.

Character Self-Awareness: Having the character acknowledge their regression can help readers process it.

Narrative Purpose: Ensure the regression serves a clear purpose in your overall story. If readers can see why it's necessary, they're more likely to accept it.

Character Regression in Different Genres

The way you approach character regression might vary depending on the genre you're writing in. Here's how it might look in different contexts:

In Literary Fiction: Character regression often serves as a deep exploration of human nature and societal influences. It might be subtle and psychological, focusing on internal changes rather than external actions.

In Fantasy or Science Fiction: Regression might be tied to magical or technological elements. Perhaps a character loses special abilities, or technology they relied on fails them, forcing them to regress to a more primitive state.

In Romance: Regression could manifest as a character retreating from emotional vulnerability, perhaps due to heartbreak or fear. The challenge becomes learning to open up again.

In Thrillers or Crime Fiction: A character might regress morally, crossing lines they never thought they would. This can create intense internal conflict and external tension.

In Horror: Regression might take on a more visceral or psychological form, with characters losing their grip on reality or reverting to primal states in the face of terror.

Character Regression and Story Structure

Consider how character regression fits into your overall story structure. It can be a powerful tool at different points in your narrative:

As an Inciting Incident: A character's sudden regression could be the event that kicks off your main plot.

During the Rising Action: Regression can add complications and raise the stakes as your story progresses.

At the Midpoint: A significant regression at the midpoint can dramatically shift the direction of your story.

During the Dark Night of the Soul: This low point in many story structures is a perfect place for a character to experience severe regression.

In the Resolution: Sometimes, a story might end with a character's regression, leaving readers with a sense of tragedy or unresolved tension.

The Role of Regression in Character Ensembles

If you're writing a story with multiple main characters, character regression can play an interesting role in group dynamics. Here are a few ways to use it:

Contrast: Have one character regress while others grow, highlighting the different paths people can take when faced with similar challenges.

Domino Effect: One character's regression might trigger changes in others, either pushing them to grow in response or causing them to regress as well.

Support Systems: Show how a group responds to one member's regression. Do they try to help? Enable the behavior? Distance themselves?

Power Dynamics: Regression can shift the balance of power within a group, creating new conflicts and alliances.

Regression and Theme

Character regression can be a powerful way to explore and reinforce your story's themes. For example:

If your theme is about the corrupting influence of power, showing a character regress morally as they gain more influence can underscore this idea.

For a theme about the importance of human connection, you might show a character regressing into isolation and the negative effects this has.

If you're exploring ideas about identity, having a character regress to an earlier version of themselves can raise interesting questions about who we really are.

A Word of Encouragement

As I wrap up this deep dive into character regression, I want to offer a word of encouragement. Writing regression can be emotionally taxing. It often requires us to delve into dark places, to imagine our characters at their worst, to confront difficult truths about human nature. This can be challenging, even distressing at times.

Remember to take care of yourself as you write. It's okay to step back if things get too intense. Talk to fellow writers about what you're working on. Engage in self-care practices that help you process and separate from the darker elements of your work.

And most importantly, don't lose sight of why you're including regression in your story. Whether it's to create a more realistic character journey, to explore complex themes, or to set up a powerful redemption arc, keep that purpose in mind. Let it guide you through the difficult moments of writing.

Remember, every character's journey is unique. There's no one-size-fits-all approach to writing regression. Trust your instincts, stay true to your character and your story, and don't be afraid to push boundaries and explore uncomfortable truths. That's where the most powerful writing often emerges.

I hope this deep dive into character regression has been helpful! Keep writing, keep exploring, and never stop pushing yourself to grow as a storyteller. Your voices and your stories matter.

Happy writing, - Rin T

Sources:

K.M. Weiland's blog post: "How to Write Character Arcs: The Flat Arc"

K.M. Weiland's "Helping Writers Become Authors" blog: "5 Ways to Write a Negative Character Arc"

TV Tropes: "Fallen Hero" 

[missrosiesworld]

Starlight Flutters

Here are some cute headcanons for Billy Kid when he has a crush:

Starlight Hero Persona: Billy adopts a more heroic persona around his crush, often quoting lines from "Starlight Knight" and trying to emulate the show's protagonists.

Billy: "In the name of justice, I vow to protect you! No harm shall come your way while I'm around!"

Crush: "Are you quoting Starlight Knights again?"

Billy: "Maybe, but I mean every word!"

Over-the-Top Gestures: He tends to make grand, dramatic gestures to show his affection, like showing up with a bouquet or performing a flashy stunt to grab their attention.

Billy, arrives with a dramatic flourish, bowing slightly: "For you, a token of my admiration!" hands over a bouquet of holographic flowers.

Crush, laughs, clearly amused and touched: "You didn't have to go all out, but thank you!"

Billy, his voice warm and sincere: "Anything for my favorite person."

Nervous Energy: Despite his confident exterior, Billy gets nervous around his crush. He fidgets with his hands and his voice may rise a notch higher when he's excited or flustered.

Billy, fidgeting with his hands: "So, um, do you... like movies? I mean, of course you do, who doesn't, right?"

Crush, smiling: "Yeah, I do. Got any recommendations?"

Billy: "Oh, totally! I've got a list! Uh, maybe we could watch one together sometime?"

Show-Off Moments: Billy loves to showcase his skills, especially with his custom-made revolvers, "the girls." He might challenge others to friendly duels or display impressive marksmanship to catch his crush's eye.

Billy, pulls off a perfect trick shot: "Not bad, huh? Just a little something I picked up from Starlight Knight."

Crush: "Wow, that's impressive! You're really good."

Billy, trying to act casual: "Oh, it's nothing. Just, you know, a hobby."

Special Attention: He gives special attention to his crush, remembering small details about their likes and dislikes. Whether it's their favorite snack or a specific hobby, Billy tries to incorporate these into his interactions with them.

Billy: "I remember you mentioned liking spicy food, so I brought you this hot sauce. It's got a kick, just like you!"

Crush, surprised: "You remembered? That's so sweet. Thank you, Billy."

Billy: "Of course! Anything to see you smile."

Protective Stance: Billy becomes protective of his crush, always positioning himself in a way that he can keep an eye on them. He wants to ensure they're safe and will step in if he senses any danger.

Billy steps in front of his crush: "Hey, stay close. I’ve got this covered. No one's getting past me."

Crush: "You don't have to do this, Billy."

Billy: "I know, but I want to. It's my job to keep you safe."

Clumsy Sweetness: When Billy gets flustered, he can become adorably clumsy, sometimes tripping over his own feet or dropping things. He laughs it off, hoping his crush finds it endearing rather than awkward.

Billy, stumbles slightly, almost dropping a package: "Whoops! That was... not supposed to happen."

Crush, giggles: "Are you okay?"

Billy, laughing nervously: "Yeah, just distracted by... something, or someone."

Secret Glances: He often steals glances at his crush when he thinks they’re not looking. 

Crush, catches Billy staring: "What is it? Something on my face?"

Billy, his voice faltering slightly with a hint of nervousness: "No, no! Just... admiring the view."

Crush, teasingly: "Smooth."

Confiding in Nicole: Billy confides in Nicole, seeking her advice on how to approach his crush. 

Billy: "Nicole, what do I do? I can't stop thinking about them, but what if I mess it up?"

Nicole, smirking: "Just be yourself, Billy. And maybe tone down the Starlight Knight lines a bit."

Acts of Service: He goes out of his way to do small, helpful things for his crush. Whether it's fixing a malfunctioning gadget or finding something they’ve misplaced, Billy is always eager to lend a hand.

Billy: "Hey, I noticed your bike was making a weird noise, so I tightened the chain and oiled the gears."

Crush: "You did that for me? Wow, thank you so much!"

Billy, rubbing the back of his neck: "It's no big deal, really. I just wanted to help."

[changetyre]

P2 to the logie smut? It was just getting good!! Love your work :))

I need a hand...or something else II Logan Sargeant x Reader Ⓗ

SUMMARY: Ever since the day in the closet you haven't been able to get the feeling of Logan's fingers out of your mind...you might just have to take him up on his offer. PART ONE

WARNINGS: **18+**, short, not proofread

A/N: Once again sorry for the delay. Hope you enjoy.

After you had crossed the line of professionalism with Logan you were having a hard time looking into his eyes. Looking at him after knowing the way his fingers felt inside of you was a situation you had never found yourself in but despite your shyness and embarrassment on the matter, Logan seemed to enjoy the effect he now had on you.

It was stressful, to say the least. So stressful that soon enough you find yourself in the same predicament as you did only a few days ago where you had thought it a good idea to go hide inside a closet to relieve yourself.

Only this time the issue was that satisfying your own desires didn't seem too exciting anymore, you just knew it wouldn't be enough and you knew it wouldn't be enough because you had spent nights in your hotel room trying to pleasure yourself to no avail.

And desperate needs call for desperate measures so somehow you found yourself standing in front of Logan's hotel room after yet another night of frustrated attempts at decompressing.

Knocking on the door it didn't take more than a few seconds for Logan to open the door, an immediate smirk appearing on his face at the sight of you standing there.

"Hey" He greeted you, leaning his body against the door, your eyes falling to the tight fireproofs that accentuated his muscles.

"Hi...I was...uh...I need-" You hadn't thought ahead. You simply wanted him to make you feel good again, you wanted that helping hand he had offered but you seemed to have overlooked the fact that looking at him turned you into a puddle of shyness now.

"What could you possibly need at this time of the night baby?" Logan asked, obviously enjoying the stuttering mess you'd become, and the tint of red that slowly invaded your whole face.

He knew what you wanted because he found himself desperate for you too and if you hadn't come knocking on his door he would've found himself in your room soon enough.

"Sorry... never mind I-" You gave up on trying to say what you needed, ready to walk away. Maybe suffering in silence would be better than admitting to the fact you needed Logan now to have an orgasm.

"No way." Logan didn't give you a chance to even take a step before he took your hand dragging you into his room not even caring if anyone had seen.

"Lo-" You didn't have time to react before Logan's lips came crashing down on yours. You heard the door slam shut as Logan pressed you to the wall his hands all over you as he kissed you.

"I've missed the way you feel," Logan whispered in your ear as he kissed down your neck, his hand slipping past your pants, past your panties, and directly inside you.

The bliss that consumed you was dizzying. Your hands clasped at Logan's arm as if willing him to go deeper.

"Is this what you wanted baby?" Logan asked, his fingers pushing deeper inside you.

"Hmm." You were struggling to produce words. "Mhm."

"Say it baby, tell me what you want." Logan urged you. His fingers momentarily pulling out.

You whined at the loss of friction. "Please." You whined.

"Tell me what you want." Logan repeated, pushing his leg between your legs.

You whined again this time from the contact to your sensitive bud. Logan could feel the way you began rubbing against him.

"C,mon, what do you want?" Logan took your face in his hand, kissing you sloppily once again. "Tell me." He pulled away.

"You. I want you. Inside me." You whispered, a newfound confidence in your voice.

"That's it darlin." Logan smirked, he picked you up with ease taking you to his bed.

It didn't take him long to line himself up with you caging you under him. "You ready baby?" He asked rubbing his tip up and down your slit driving you crazy.

"Yes please." You nodded desperately almost pushing yourself up so he could just fill you already.

He didn't need to be told twice as he entered you slowly letting you adjust to his size a big sigh left your lips and he watched as your eyes rolled back as he bottomed you out.

"Move please." You continued begging needing to feel relief already.

Logan began thrusting in and out of you initially slow before finding the perfect pace. His mouth latched onto one of your breasts as he flicked his tongue across your nipple.

All of these feelings were driving you crazy, your mind in a haze. Logan was equally growing addicted to the feeling and taste of you as he kissed you passionately and you moaned into his mouth. He would never be able to let go of you now.

[justporo]

Hey you :D

Here’s a request just to add your huge list for after vacation muahaha 💖

How do you think a slow, bickering romance with Astarion (kinda like Howl and Sophie) would go down.

Hey darling ❤️ You might’ve forgotten about this ask but I have not! I'm combining this with another one asking about where Astarion rejected Tav at first but then slowly fell for them.

Also haven't done one of this headcanon posts for a whole haven't we? Here we go:

Headcanons about Astarion slowly but surely falling in love with you (and how he pursues you)

Oh, it's all just a game for him, isn't it? At least at first. But this silly little jester didn't realise he was playing himself.

He might have rejected you at first (because he's a prick who has looked at the sun a little too long, let's be honest) but he quickly realises he can't take his mind off of you

You keep stirring the vampire's undead little heart and it scares him at first - and of course you had given up on it after that first hurtful rejection

But his crimson eyes start to never stray far from you, no matter if in battle or at camp: he can't tear his gaze from you - gods dammit, you're lovely!

It's in the way you always put others first, always have a kind word to spare, always a warm smile. How you laugh and how brave you are, how you bite your lip when you're lost deep in thought.

Quite frankly: a stake to his heart couldn't have been more effective.

But he realises another thing: he wants to be real with you, he wants to fall slowly with you - not a vicious thunderstorm but a soft, warm summer rain

And so Astarion begins to yearn in silence as you too can't keep your thoughts from turning around him often

It's painfully obvious to everyone around you how much the two of you are in love with each other; so much so that bets are being made in camp if you're gonna make it before you all reach the Gate

You notice that Astarion keeps sneaking around you like an adoring cat would: always a playful quip on the tip of his sharp tongue that you never take serious because... this Astarion we're talking about. "Oh my heart, aren't you even more blinding than the sun today" "Look who's blessing us with their grace and insight." "A copper for the thoughts in your pretty little head, darling."

Astarion doesn't know how to live the teasing out of his tone, maybe out of fear you might actually start taking him seriously; but if you would peel back the generous layer of faked sarcasm you'd find he's actually being serious

This man is downright smitten by you and you don't realise it as he achingly yearns for you - so much the others can barely take it

Sometimes you find little gifts on your pillow when you wake up: a sweet treat, snuck away from the others, a single blossom, a mysterious line of poetry - you are at a loss at where this comes from or if someone is playing with you

Meanwhile Astarion swallows his pride to regularly go to Wyll and ask his advice who... does help him but not without a haughty grin whenever he sees the lovesick vampire stroll over in his seemingly hopeless endeavour

Meanwhile you keep doing your utmost best to be at Astarion's side because you truly only want to help him and be happy and safe

Again: have mercy with the poor tortured soul, sometimes Astarion almost feels like he could combust on the spot if you give him one of your adorable lopsided smiles

When Moonrise and unpleasant people happen something in Astarion breaks, it all bursts out of him at once, overpowering even his terrible fear of rejection

The hug and tender first kiss you share that night tears both if your walls down.

You have not defeated the big bad enemy but something in your heart lightens knowing you have someone who will travel the road to whatever end with you

From there on out the two of you become even more unbearable in your pining for each other - meanwhile not trivial amounts of gold are passed between the other companions with quite some grumbling - but be assured: all of your friends are rooting for the two of you.

There we go, I love idiots in love with each other, hope you enjoyed!