#and then i have to remind myself that it's the same feeling as looking at topstitching

[marvelstoriesepic]

Five days, Five bouquets

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Prompt: "Do I need to remind you that we're not actually married?"

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: talk of a fake marriage for the sake of a mission; fluffff

Author’s Note: This is written for the writing challenge of @elixirfromthestars ♡ I wasn’t planning on writing something so soon because I’ve still got a project going on right now, but your prompts and everything were just so alluring, I couldn’t help myself. I hope you enjoy this, my dearest. And I am almost entirely certain that this won’t be my only entry to your writing challenge, because I've got some more ideas lol

Divider by @saradika-graphics ♡

Masterlist

“Again, Bucky?”

You don’t even try to mask your breathless laughter, the warmth of it slipping through as you rise from your seat.

The front door clicks shut behind Bucky and he scuffs off his boots half-heartedly on the door mat. There is a bouquet of flowers in his hand. And an even larger grin on his face.

The table before you is still cluttered with the remnants of your cover - documents, notes, a meticulously crafted facade of a life together.

A life that isn’t real, except for moments like these, when the borders become smudged just enough to make you wonder.

“‘Course, sweetheart,” he says, still smiling so wide, but his tone does not hold a trace of irony. “What kinda guy d’you think I am? Four days in a row and I just stop?” He scoffs as if the mere thought offends him. His voice is honeyed.

He stalks over to you standing at the table and holds the bouquet out for you. It is an understatedly beautiful arrangement of dusky pink roses, fluffy ruffled carnations, ivory lilies with petals curling slightly at the edges. Wisps of silvery foliage peek through, adding a breath of frost to the warmth. And then there are the deep inky leaves interwoven among the blooms, like something divine pulled from the shadows.

You take them with fingers that begin to tremble just slightly. His hand brushes over yours. A blush makes its way up your face just like every time.

You have been undercover for five days, posing as a married couple by orders from Nick Fury. And every day, even though it’s not at all necessary for you both to keep your cover, Bucky brings you a bouquet when he gets ‘home’ from his fake job.

He is embedded in a high-profile consulting firm, shadowing a suspect deeply tangled in covert operations, while you take a closer look at his wife. She’s not at all innocent. She manages high-stakes charity galas, the kind that funnel money into places they shouldn’t be. You play the devoted wife, hosting brunches, attending yoga classes she goes to, letting cautious friendships lead you to the information you need.

Five days. Five bouquets.

Each one different, but all of them hold some unspoken thing. Something that makes you shiver.

The choking in your throat is disguised with a roll of your eyes. “You do know we’re supposed to be laying low, right? Kinda hard when you’re single-handedly funding the local florist,” you tease rather lightly.

Bucky chuckles, low but bright, and you swear you feel the sound more than you hear it. “Oh c’mon, doll. Long as we’re playin’ house, I gotta keep my wife happy.”

This is a joke. It is all a joke. But your pulse is not laughing, only speeding up, tripping at the way he puts emphasis on wife. As if the word fits too well in his mouth, as if he could get used to it.

Bucky has always been a gentleman to you. Even outside of missions. But since you started this one, moving into the same house on the outskirts of town for the sake of your cover, the grumpiness and stoicism that usually surround his aura at the compound are completely lost here with you. You’ve never seen him smile as much as you have in the last five days.

You clutch the bouquet a little tighter, take a closer look, and take in the many appealing colors and scents. “Thank you, Bucky. I love those,” you say warmly.

His expression falters just a fraction like it does every time, not quite knowing what to do with genuine gratitude when it’s meant for him. Although you show it to him all the time. A flicker of something unguarded passes over his features before he covers it with a scoff that only makes it out halfway. He looks off to the side, shifting his weight. “Well, can’t have my wife thinkin’ I'm slipping already now, can I?” he laughs a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, the tips of his ears just the slightest bit of pink.

You turn with a huffed laugh and perform the task of putting away the flowers. Shaking your head, you start to get highly aware of the wedding band around your finger, a piece of fiction Tony gave you to wear. It looks so real, yet it is a lie. And you hate it.

“Do I need to remind you that we’re not actually married?” The words fall with amusement but they sit heavier in the air than they should.

The ring fits perfectly, Tony made sure of that. But it still somehow presses against your skin. As if to remind you that Bucky is not truly yours.

Bucky doesn’t miss a beat. You see him tilting his head from your peripherals as you reach for a vase. His smile is softened. “Don’t matter, sweetheart. Might as well treat you like my wife.” His voice is quieter now, less teasing. But sure.

The kitchen and living room are already brimming with the past four days of his affections.

One arrangement graces the coffee table, another stands by the window, and two more are carefully nestled between books on the shelf at the wall to your left. A home suffused with color, with life, with something neither of you dares to call by name.

You feel the warmth of his gaze on you. He doesn’t say anything, standing there relaxed, still with that proud and fond smile on his face, watching you as if he is engraving in his memory the way you fuss over where to place this latest offering.

And maybe you take just a little longer than necessary because if you turn too soon, you’ll have to meet his eyes.

And you don’t know if you can right now.

You’re not sure if you’d be able to look away.

But you know you should. Because this is not real.

But maybe - and this is the hope speaking - it could be someday.

“Imagine someone thinking of you and buying you flowers.”

- sleepyurl

[embbarnes]

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

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

Like always my thoughts and such are below the cut ~

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

My first thought was yes, I feel this hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No no...this is good.

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

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

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

A gentleman, don't argue w me.

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

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

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

LMAO same girl 😭

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

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

either way, i'm going your way

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4k

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

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

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

logan howlett masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just her usual requests, then.

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

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

“Hold up!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you like Korean barbecue?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you hungry?”

••••••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

••••••

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?” Logan murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, nervous is accurate.

“That obvious, huh?” he sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

reblogs/comments are always appreciated, thanks for reading!

[bcksbarnes]

snipped

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky is feeling plagued by his past so he asks you to cut his hair.

word count: 1.2K

genre: fluff, sad!bucky

bucky wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to do this, unfortunately his hair had been apart of him for so long that it was like an extension of himself. it was both a mask that represented a time that he wished to forget, and a reminder of the better human he needed to become. but, the thoughts of the tragedies he caused while looking the way did weighed heavy on his mind. he already spent most of his nights woke up with nightmares from his time as the winter solider, he couldn’t continue looking in the mirror and feeling the same way as well. 

“hey,” he says as he walks into your bedroom, leaning against the doorframe while he watches you lay in bed. when you don’t respond right away he calls your name, causing you to look up from your phone with a small blush on your cheeks. 

“sorry, nat’s on a date and i wanted to see how it was going.” you respond, placing the phone next to you on the bed. 

“did she answer?” he asks, a small smile on his face as he watches you. 

“yeah, she said he’s boring. what else is new.” you tease, your eyes raking over his face. it only takes you a second to realize he’s uneasy. “what’s wrong?” 

you two had been together long enough that it didn’t take much for you to know when bucky was upset or thinking about something. his usual quiet and brooding behavior was always met with small quirks like tapping his foot or biting his top lip when there was something on his mind. this time it was the former. 

he sighs as he kicks off the door frame, moving to the edge of the bed and sitting down, still an arms length away from you as he tries to think of how best to approach the topic. 

“can you cut my hair?” he lays it out, his fingers picking at a piece of lint at the bedspread, feeling sheepish as he doesn’t meet your eyes. he’s embarrassed by this for some reason. he’s cut his own hair before, usually when he was on the run and was able to find a rusty pair of scissors, but that was usually just a trim and now there’s something about the meaning behind this that makes it hard for him. 

your gaze softens as you hear his request, sitting up further on the bed as you wait to see if there was anything else he was going to say. when you were met with silence you speak up. 

“of course i can.”  

bucky looks over at you, his smile had faded a few moments ago and now all he could think about was how this was going to feel. liberated? angry? happy? he wasn’t too sure, and maybe that’s what scared him the most. 

he had done horrible things as the winter solider, things that he could never forgive himself for, but life was different now. he was deprogrammed, he was helping people, he met you and he was starting to feel like he was allowed a life of not always having his demons follow him around. he was ready to move forward. 

“hey.” you move off the bed to stand in front of him, your hand moving to gently grab his chin and tilt his head up towards you. “we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, bucky.” 

he sighs softly at your touch, his hands moving to rest at your hips as he pulls you a bit closer, your legs slotted between his. it’s intimate and full of affection, you two always know how to keep your touches light but meaningul. 

“i am ready.” though he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself by saying it out loud. “i think ... i’m ready to stop torturing myself every day with the reminder of my past. i want to move forward. i want to show myself that i’m capable of moving forward.” 

your heart aches at his words because you will never understand the pain he goes through everyday, but there was nothing that was going to stop you from supporting him. your hand moves from his chin to cup both of his cheeks, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. his grip on your hips tighten a bit as you hear him let out a shuttering breath that he had been holding in. 

his hands move up to press against yours, keeping your touch on his face close for a moment as he relishes in the comfort. and despite popular belief, bucky barnes needed comfort. 

it’s a few minutes later that the two of you are in the bathroom, bucky is sitting on a folding chair he managed to find and you had both the scissors and clippers ready to go.  

“are you sure?” you stand behind him as he sits, your hands on his shoulders as your gazes meet in the mirror in front of you. he nods his head softly, saying everything that he’s incapable of verbalizing in that moment. “okay, i’ve only cut hair like once so if it comes out bad don’t hate me for it.”  

bucky cracks a small smile before he closes his eyes, letting out one last deep breath before you get to work. a comb works through his long hair one last time, getting all the knots out as you place it in a short ponytail.  

the metal scissors are in your hand and you whisper a soft you got this to him before you begin to cut. it takes a second to cut through it all but before you knew it you were holding onto most of it in the ponytail. it was shorter, shaggier, needed to be buzzed down and given a little height – but he looked good. different, but good. 

you can feel the way he shifts anxiously while you use the clippers, having to tell him to stop moving on a few occasions so you didn’t accidentally cut him, but it’s over almost as soon as it starts, his eyes still closed tightly not wanting to look until the finish product. 

your hands find their way back to his shoulders once you put your tools down, taking a moment to admire your work and how different he looks. you bring your lips down near his ear. 

“you can open your eyes, buck.” 

a beat passes and you can tell he’s nervous to but he has to face it at some point. one last deep breath leaves his lips before his eyes flutter open, landing on the mirror in front of him. 

he doesn’t speak for a minute, his eyes taking in his features and his new defined haircut. it looks great, if you say so yourself, but in that moment he’s hard to read and you’re not sure what he’s going to say. 

bucky rests his elbows on his knees and his head drops forward, your hand soothingly rubbing his back. when he looks up again his eyes are red and teary, the moment obviously catching him off guard with how much it would mean to him. 

“how do you feel?” your voice is soft, keeping the both of you grounded in this moment which you know he appreciates.  

a tear slips from his eyes and he runs a hand through his freshly cut hair. one word slips through his lips. 

“free.” 

[florencebirdsong]

Could I request Agatha + Rio + Deaf!Fem reader?? I was thinking of possibly they learned how to say I love you or something meaningful to sign to Reader..or something along the line of them being protective of reader on their date because people are quick to judge reader because she is loud without realizing it..

( I would like to say that I am a irl deaf person myself so I would love this!!)

Yes, I can! I only know super basic Auslan. Like the stuff you’re encouraged to learn in multiple languages (hi, how are you, I’m good, finger spelling, where’s the bathroom, I love you, help, hospital, etc) and I don’t know which sign language you use so I’ve kept the actual sign language descriptions vague. I hope that’s okay :) Please enjoy!

Valentine’s Day Event 2025

Tags: annoying man, small moment insecurity, ficlet

Authors note: sorry the bickering isn’t actually written at the start. I’m trying to keep these as ficlets and those two could go for pages

You watch fondly as Agatha and Rio’s hands fly as they sign. Their bickering-like banter easily picking up your mood. The start of the year has been rough but tonight is just what you need. A romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant that you’re going to leave far too early to go and find something much more unhealthy to eat.

A particularly witty response from Rio has you snort a laugh. Agatha quips back just as fast and you laugh freely. She winks at you before turning a smug look on Rio, who would look annoyed if it weren’t for the smile tilting the edge of her mouth.

Both of their faces drop at the same time and it takes you a moment longer to realise a man has stopped by your table and interrupted you all. He looks agitated, his gestures sharp and his features hard. He’s on the other side of the table from you and clearly only addressing your two girlfriends. You can’t tell what he’s upset about and you watch Agatha and Rio for any indication of this becoming a serious altercation. Relaxing when they only look slightly madder than usual, you wonder what the man is talking about. They both seem more pissed off than their usual reaction to being hit on by a man, even when being interrupted during a special dinner. But it is Valentine’s Day. Surely the man has some clue?

They continue to sign when they respond to him but you still can’t glean what exactly this is about. Only that they seem to be about to chew him out.

“No one asked,” Agatha snaps, her hand movements short and sharp.

You tap the table to get Rio’s attention. The dark look means she needs to be distracted. Agatha may be vindictive but Rio is merciless.

“What’s happening?” you sign.

“He thinks we’re being too loud,” she signs back. “Like he hasn’t been bellowing for the last half hour.”

Your eyebrows furrow, suddenly self-conscious. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt badly about being too loud, but for it to be bad enough for someone to try and interrupt a romantic dinner…

Rio taps the table within sight of your dropped gaze. You reluctantly look up.

“He’s been shouting half the night,” she reminds you. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologise,” she adds pointedly.

Your eyes flick to Agatha, whose disgusted scowl is directed at the man’s retreating back. She notices your gaze and her face immediately softens.

“You know the study, dear,” she signs. “Women speak up slightly more and men think they’re dominating the conversation. I’m sure it’s the same for volume.”

You nod, hesitantly. Knowing you aren’t likely to stop thinking about it without a distraction, Rio stands up suddenly.

“I want cheap chocolate in stupid shapes,” Rio declares.

Agatha doesn’t take any more prompting. She picks the napkin from her lap and flings it onto the table. Rio holds her hand out to help you out of the chair. You all have finished eating and you haven’t even glanced at the dessert menu yet so you don’t feel too badly about taking Rio’s hand.

“Such a gentleman,” you sign after she helps slip your coat on.

Agatha steps closer to you both and signs without shame, 

“I doubt you’ll be saying that once she has you in bed.”

“Nope,” Rio agrees with a sharp smile. “But chocolate first.”

You don’t even glance at the man on your way out.

[iheartsophie]

Surprise!!

Harry Lewis (W2S) x Fem!Reader (3.6k words)

Summary: Reader surprises Harry during the Sidemen’s “$20,000 VS $200 HOLIDAY” after not seeing eachother for a month

Warnings: Swearing, PDA, small panic attack, NOT PROOF READ!!!!

Author note: i linked “I Got U” as a song because i feel like that is the most summer feeling song i know and im missing summer rn

So a bit of backstory, Josh has planned a $20,000 vs $200 holiday an he called me around two weeks ago asking if I would join in the video and surprise Harry as well as the other lads- of course I said yes! I’ve currently been away on a business trip for the past month and I haven’t been able to see Harry, the only way I’ve seen him is on FaceTime which isn’t the same as seeing and hearing his voice in person. Every week when the boys have been recording they’ve secretly been messaging me and sending me photos of Harry moping around and complaining about how he won’t see me for an extra week due to the holiday video. The only people who do know are Josh, Kon, Kirsty, Cal and Freezy. Cal and Freezy are also tagging along to surprise the boys.

As soon as my last business meeting was over I rushed out of the doors and directly onto the train home because I needed to pack as soon as possible because I would not have time to in the morning because Mr. Josh Zerkaa decided to book the earliest flight in existence, Cal and Freezy were fine with it; me on the other hand, I was fuming… because that means I’m missing out on my beauty sleep!

(The night before surprising Harry… )

After the excruciatingly long train ride from Manchester to London I was finally back home at mine and Harry’s shared apartment, it was weird walking in through the doors and not having Harry greet me at the door was a hug and a kiss.. but I reminded myself I would be in the same country as him in just short of 17 hours. I headed towards our bedroom and threw on some pjs which consisted of one of Harry’s t shirts and some shorts. Packing was a nightmare, let’s just put it that way. I had not been on holiday in so long and I had forgotten how stressful it is making sure you have enough necessities to last you the time you’re away and also making sure you have not forgotten anything… So I just grabbed all of my clothes that were in my “summer side” of the wardrobe and tried to stuff it into one suitcase and that did not work, so I ended up with two family sized suitcases almost bursting at the seams full of my things.

As soon as I had finished packing I went to make a quick pot noodle in the microwave as I knew I wouldn’t tend to the dishes in the morning and I don’t want to come back to messy dishes after the holiday and I definitely don’t think Harry would either. As I was eating my pot noodle my phone started buzzing, I looked at the contact “Bog 💙” - I answered straight away

(Italic- Harry)

“Hello (y/n/n)”

“Hiya babe you okay? How’s the trip so far?”

“Could be better… The trip is alright , I’m on the good team so that’s good I guess, could be better if you were here”

“Aww I’m missing you too, don’t get yourself down love, only 5 more days left! Then you’ll be back home and we can go see that movie you wanted to see if you’re up for it”

“I know and of course I want to go to the movie are you mad! My all time favourite movie franchise ever”

(I giggled as I heard JJ, Tobi and Josh in the background telling harry to get off the phone and go to the sauna with them)

I shouted down the phone

“Oi you lot shut your mouth we are talking over here! Anyways, I best get going I need to call Cal and Freezy to make sure they’re up and ready early in the morning tomorrow”

Shit, I’ve slipped up…

Harry frowned at me through the phone

“What do you mean? Why do you need to do that?”

What do I say? Think y/n. Think!

“Oh! Did I not tell you? We’re going on a hike tomorrow, yeah! To the Lake District?”

“Ohhh okay, yeah best let you go then. Love you!”

“Love you too, bye!”

That was close… I can’t believe that just happened. How did I manage that? Anyways, I put my empty pot noodle in the bin and put the fork in the dishwasher to deal with later. I went into the bathroom and completed my night routine and got into bed, and quickly messaged Cal and Freezy to have their alarms set and where we will meet at the airport in the morning. Soon after that I dozed off…

(Time skip to the getting off the train)

As I was getting off the train I got a message from harry:

“Bog 💙: Have a nice day with the boys, please don’t push them off the mountain🙏, love you��

I sent a quick message back:

“I’ll try my hardest, love you too”

I somehow bumped into Cal and Freezy at the train station instead of at the airport, they both brought their cameras to get footage of us on the way their so the editors can put it in and we have our own little segments in the video. “Look who we have here…” Cal teased, “Mrs. Harry Lewis”. “Not a mrs yet, I’m still waiting” I corrected while holding up my left hand beholding my empty ring finger. After that small segment they put their cameras away and we caught a taxi and made our way to the airport. Getting out of the taxi was a struggle not for the boys, just for me, because of my two huge suitcases it was hard trying to pick them up and out of the boot of the taxi. And instead of the boys ,who are meant to be like brothers to me, helping me get them out they just filmed me while laughing in the background and caught a clip of my tripping over the suitcase which was behind me. “You’re both such dicks, wait till I tell Harry”, “What is Harry going to do? Cause I can bet you £100 right here that he will laugh too.”

We finally made track down the road to the airport and Freezy started filming a little bit with Cal next to him and me behind them still struggling with my suitcases, which you can imagine is causing me some unneeded anger. “As you can see y/n finally got her suitcases out and we are on the way to the best holiday, we are going to the best destination. Thank you sidemen for this holiday, we really appreciate it”, “Bro you’re such an arse licker, you just want to be on the good team if you’re invited again!” I pointed out, Cal turned around to me “Now, now, y/n don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same thing.” I stayed silent and they both laughed.

“We are on our way to meet- surprise them, they have no idea that we’re going I’ve been playing tricks with Harry all week, y/n told us that she nearly slipped up on the plan”, “I didn’t mean to! I feel so bad lying to him, he told me to have a good day in the Lake District and to message him when we get there.. he’s going to be so worried when I don’t message him.”

(Time skip to when we’re in the airport)

Poor Cal is not having a good time, he’s left his phone on the train and now his bag has been chosen for a search and I know this isn’t about me but I just want to get on that plane now, and all of this messing about is causing me to stress so bad and I can’t talk to harry about it because it will give away our secret so I just keep to myself and put my headphones on.

We’re finally on the plane, at last! But the only problem is I haven’t told the boys I’m scared because whenever I’m on a plane I’m usually with Harry and he can just sense my worry and comforts me without me having to tell him or ask him to. Though only Freezy is aware because of when I went skiing with him and Harry and started crying when that plane took off. When plane started to move my breathing started to pick up and I leat my elbows on my knees and looked down. Unbeknownst to me Cal and Freezy looked at each other over my body and mouthed to eachother “Is she alright?” Cal asked, “She’s terrified of flying” Freezy pointed out. Freezy tapped my shoulder for me to look at him and when I did he opened his arms for me to go into and he hugged me while I cried into his shoulder, and whilst I did he was rubbing my back and trying to soothe me the best he could.

It took me a few minutes to calm down and when I did Cal let me watch a movie on his laptop, which lasted almost the whole flight. We finally landed and all three of us made sure we turned out locations of for the boys, whilst we were doing that all the messages that didn’t send because we were on the plane we’re coming through, all of mine were from Harry and a few of the boys..

Bog💙: message me when you arrive so I know you got there safely x

Bog💙: and don’t forget to tell me if Cal slips up the hill again

Bog💙 hello? It’s been 3 hours now surely you’re almost there by now

Bog💙: why aren’t my messages going through are you okay?

Bog💙: babe please tell me you’re okay

Tobi: Harry’s freaking out are you okay? Please let us know

JJ: Fam what are you playing at, are you alr??

(Time skip to getting to the harbour)

I quickly replied to them all reassuring them I’m okay and that I forgot about telling Harry I arrived. Josh messaged us to tell us to meet at the harbour with our suitcases because we can leave them on the yacht when we get to it. So while we were waiting for Josh to get here we found a British bar and we ordered a nice English breakfast each, though while we were waiting I went to the bathroom and got changed into a bikini and put some denim shorts over the top and some of my nice sandals on. We finished our breakfast and Josh arrived outside the bar.

Josh took us to the yacht they had rented and where we were going to surprise the boys, and we chose were we were hiding and a code word Josh will say for when we were to jump out which was “chips”, though they told me to come out a little bit later as an extra EXTRA surprise for harry. Cal and Freezy hid behind the seat were the wheel was and I was at the bottom of the stairs on the lower deck, enough to hear Josh but also enough so Tobi, JJ, and harry walk last and don’t suspect anything.

Everything was in place and ready to go. Now we were just waiting and anticipating the boys’ arrival. Josh mumbled that he could see the boys and I slightly looked over the steps to make sure Cal and Freezy were hidden and I couldn’t see them so I did I little nod to myself and ducked back down because they finally listened to something for once. I could started to hear the boys, I could hear Tobi repeating “you’re a king, you’re a king” to Josh and JJ saying “oh my god” and the nervous laugh I could recognise anywhere, harry. I started to get butterflies in my belly coming to terms that I’m seeing harry for the first time in a while.

“I’m buzzing to eat these chips”

All you could hear on the yacht was cheering and laughing. And Harry’s infamous screams. All the boys ran to hug each other and tackled each other. When it all calmed down Harry went silent as if piecing things together, “Whats the matter Harry?” Tobi questioned, “If Cal and Freezy are here, where’s y/n then?” and I took that as my queue to come up the stairs with a tray of drinks. “Hello? Special delivery” ( yes when I was in the lower deck I found the bar and made everyone drinks) Harry just stood up and stared at me, while Tobi and JJ ran up to me, I was quick to put the drinks on the closets surface to save them from being spilt everywhere. I welcomed Tobi and JJ with a hug. When they let go Harry had finally took it all in and realised I was here and ran towards me and tackled me onto the large sofa and gave me the biggest hug and repeating how much he had missed me.

The boys went up to the other side of the boat to give me and Harry some space to speak a bit and catch up, I told him about how my business meeting went well and how my brand is expanding and he was telling me about how the shoots were. We sat in comfortable silence after our conversation and I looked down at his legs and realised he was wearing sweat shorts and frowned, “You know I don’t think those are the best shorts to swim in”, “Don’t worry I’ve got some swim trunks with me”, “Where?”, He reached to his shoulder to prove that he has them and that they’re slung over his shoulder, I started laughing “I think you’ve flung them off the boat in excitement. We both looked over the side of the boat and low and behold there they were, bobbing along in the water. “Oh for fucks sake”

(Time skip)

It was soon time to have a bit of a feast on the boat me and harry sat next to eachother. Cal, Freezy and I weren’t that hungry considering about an hour and a half ago we had a full English, so we just stuck to some picky bits. There were many laughs and stories exchanged at the table mainly questions towards me cal and Freezy about how long we knew about this and how I managed to keep it a secret from harry.

Josh excused himself from the table to answer a phone call from Ethan which we all predicted was him complaint about the conditions he was currently in, we all told Josh to put it on speaker phone so we could hear his complaints and we were all creasing in laughter, at one point I wheezed which all the boys could recognise anywhere. Ethan picked up on it and shouted down the phone “Oi! Was that y/n? What the fuck, traitor! You said you would never go to the good team.” , “I fear you heard me wrong Behz, I said “I would never go to the good team if you were on it” “, my answers errupted in laughter and screams of shock from the boys. I then left and walked away to go a sunbathe and enjoy myself for a while.

With my headphones on and music playing I spent at least an hour sunbathing, unaware of the carnage going on around me. So when I took my headphones off and heard screaming and jet ski engines blaring I was very confused of how they did all this without disturbing me. I got up out of the deck chair and the whole top deck was soaked in wet foot prints and discarded towels, I watched over the side of the boat as the boys were jumping into the deep blue sea. Though all of a sudden I heard wet feet plodding behind me and I turned around to harry creeping up on me. “Harry, no!” “What are you talking about? I’m not going to do anything” I was then picked up and thrown into the water, harry still clinging onto me, “Harold! Why would you do that!” I scolded. “Just helping you cool off,” he shrugged. While all this happened the boys were looking down at us pointing and laughing.

I stayed in the ocean for a while until they started circling me with jet skis and trying to peer pressure me into going on the surf board, which i declined straight away and also the fact I was getting tired from the travelling and then sun beaming down on me. So I climbed back up the ladder and propped a nice parasol up to give me some shade and I decided to have a nap. A couple of minutes later I was woken up by Harry sitting next to me, “Why aren’t you laying down?” I asked, “I didn’t want to wake you and get you wet because you’ve seemed to have dried off and caught the sun already!”, “Don’t be silly come here.” I told him and opened my arms for him to cuddle into, and I started to play with his wet and tousled hair which he hummed in reply to. We both dozed off in each others hold, I did hear a camera shutter near by though I thought nothing of it a just thought it was Kirsty taking pictures of the boys on the jet skis. I jolted awake when I felt this large weight on top of my body and opened my eyes to see all the boys piling on top of me and harry, “what are you doing!” I exclaimed, “we’re basking in the love!” One of them replied and started making kissing noises to eachother, which me and harry both laughed at.

(Time skip to the villa)

Freezy pulled out his camera and started speaking “Lux, y/n this is the first time we’re gonna see it [the villa], we know it’s sick though because we know we’re in the good team.”

We got out of the car and I held Harry’s hand and walked up to the gates, waiting for them to open. Me and harry stayed behind the group because we haven’t had much alone time together since I arrived so we just distanced ourselves a little. I yawned and rubbed my eyes, “You tired?” Harry asked me “oh my gosh yes, I can’t wait to go to bed.” I groaned. When the gates opened my jaw dropped, this place was stunning, I want to live here!

“One thing is though these aren’t filled with water,” harry pointed at the small fountain at the front door, “I may have to leave a four star review because if this.” I slapped Harry’s shoulder jokingly “Don’t even start!” We walked through the front doors and me and JJ looked at eachother and immediately knew what to do, and I let go of Harry’s hand i quickly stood next to JJ and we started to sing the halo theme tune together in the large foyer. As we finished the boys laughed and and Freezy said “Ayy that’s the halo soundtrack!”

The boys started to give us a tour round the place and I was shocked at the size of the kitchen and the the large living room that looks out into the garden and also there’s a lift! They took us to the garden and told Cal, Freezy and I to face away and then turn around. JJ counted us down from 3 and when we turned around my eyes widened- the view was breathtaking…”you’ve got a mountain, in your back garden!” I exclaimed. The tour lasted awhile which I wasn’t surprised about because look at the size of this place. When they mentioned the poker table, mini arcade and the sauna I decided to find mine and Harry’s shared room and unpack my things because those things don’t interest me at all.

I had to memorise the route to mine and Harry’s room and started to unpack and when i finished I plopped myself onto the bed and let out a large sigh out of exhaustion. I heard the bedroom door open and close ,but I was too tired to lift my head up, and I felt the bed sink next to me and someone started to play with my hair. I opened my eyes to see Harry smiling down at me, “Did you see Freezys instagram story?” Harry questioned, “No not yet why?”, “Look..”

Calfreezy posted an instagram story…

“Aww they’re so cute! - even though I’ve been here for half a day already I’ve had so much fun.” I told harry, “I’m glad, because I’m really happy you’re here because you don’t know how much I’ve missed you, it’s been so boring and lonely coming home to no one for a month!”, “Don’t worry I couldn’t handle it either, I even told them at my meeting that from now on I’m working from home, so I can be with you more often.” Harry smiled and kissed my forehead. “Shall we get a shower and into some pjs and chill downstairs or do you want to watch a movie up here?” He asked me. “I think I want to watch a movie with you!” We went and got our shower and into some pjs which mine -again- consisted of one of Harry’s shirts and some shorts. We got tucked into bed and chose a movie that we both enjoy and I laid back and cuddle into harry and laying my head on his chest. We both fell into a deep slumber, not without saying “I love you” to eachother.

[doberbutts]

I understand why you don't want to get into the nuance of what privilege is and such but I have been aching to every time I pass by someone talking about this post.

And you know what! I don't feel bad linking it, because it's free! Available for free from the mouth of the woman who gave us the concept itself! And you can pay just $4 for the rest of the essay!

Specifically:

For this reason, the word “privilege” now seems to me misleading. We usually think of privilege as being a favored state, whether earned or conferred by birth or luck. Yes some of the conditions I have described here work to systematically over empower certain groups. Such privilege simply confers dominance because of one’s race or sex. I want, then, to distinguish between earned strength and unearned power conferred systemically. Power from unearned privilege can look like strength when it is in fact permission to escape or to dominate. But not all of the privileges on my list are inevitably damaging. Some, like the expectation that neighbors will be decent to you, or that your race will not count against you in court, should be the norm in a just society. Others, like the privilege to ignore less powerful people, distort the humanity of the holders as well as the ignored groups.

And

Difficulties and dangers surrounding the task of finding parallels are many. Since racism, sexism, and heterosexism are not the same, the advantaging associated with them should not be seen as the same. In addition, it is hard to disentangle aspects of unearned advantage which rest more on social class, economic class, race, religion, sex and ethnic identity than on other factors. Still, all of the oppressions are interlocking, as the Combahee River Collective Statement of 1977 continues to remind us eloquently.

And

One factor seems clear about all of the interlocking oppressions. They take both active forms which we can see and embedded forms which as a member of the dominant group one is taught not to see. In my class and place, I did not see myself as a racist because I was taught to recognize racism only in individual acts of meanness by members of my group, never in invisible systems conferring unsought racial dominance on my group from birth.

You see, it's very interesting to me as I'm sure you're tired of hearing by now, that we've got the theory directly from the people who have coined the words, and for some reason we have a serious, grievous misunderstanding on what the theory is talking about.

To put it bluntly, privilege is about material benefits for being a member of an empowered class, and not simply something that you possess due to your identity. This is not just my understanding but the direct words of the woman who coined the word "privilege" to be used to talk about this exact concept. To say that it is not is actively going against the theory that surrounds the concept in the first place.

As for whether or not trans men have male privilege- that entirely depends on the trans man in question, is highly conditional and individual, and relies on a significant amount of overlapping dynamics of various systems of oppression. I don't know that Julie (but Jack in his head) who looks identical to any other cis woman and moves through life this way has a demonstratable amount of male privilege. I do think perhaps Roger, who looks identical to any other cis man and moves through life this way, probably does as long as he keeps his mouth shut about certain things. I think the same system that harms Julie is the one that uplifts Roger. I think this system hurt Roger quite a bit when he was still going by Kendra. And I think this system turns on Roger the instant it smells blood in the water, and hurt him very badly the moment it gets the opportunity

In this essay, McIntosh goes on to list a number of privileges she as a white woman holds over any and all black people. She relates most to black women- unsurprising as she namedrops the Combahee River Collective and is working primarily through an anti-racist yet deeply feminist lens- but does mention at times how whiteness grants her a shield not shared by black men's own male privilege.

This is why I always ask- what are you (general) defining as privilege? Give me an example, and don't just say it's because the demographic exists or by definition of identity. Identity is not privilege. How the world treats you, how society is structured to either lift you up or grind you under the heel, and the relative safeties or dangers of your life are what privilege amounts to.

If you (general) don't want to hear it from me, you don't have to. But at least read the damn essay so I can stop saying "that's not what privilege means though" every time I read a take like this.

i’m not even gonna break this one down bc “male privilege isn’t a material benefit it’s just literally not being a woman” i think pretty much speaks for itself.

[hrizantemy]

Comparing evil people like Amarantha, King Hybern and his whole court, Rhysand and all of his IC especially their high lady,(who I feel definitely has turned evil or really bad). Do you think Beron and all of his sons are evil? Do you think some of them are acting and playing the part? Or do you think they all have evil in them from their upbringing of being Beron sons? Myself I can’t help but see it as they are evil-ish, but not the whole court and I even think Beron isn’t evil he just sucks as a husband and father. Then again depending on the reader, not everyone wants to be good and just choose to be evil for different reasons whether it be validated or not. This has been on my mind for a long time now, because I want to know more about the other courts, who is actually good? Who is actually evil? Who is morally grey? We know nothing else of other courts and the HL’s everything is NC and it’s annoying that they have 3 books on them and nothing on any other court, to give us something to know about them. About their true feelings on the human race, about the NC and their sneaky conniving ways!! I just want to pick the mind of other people on these topics.

This is such a great question because, honestly, the way the courts are written leaves so much unanswered—especially in terms of morality, politics, and the actual complexity of characters outside the Night Court. The books spend so much time making the Night Court look like the only progressive place, but at the same time, we’re given very little real insight into how the other courts function beyond surface-level stereotypes.

Are Beron and His Sons Truly Evil?

I don’t think it’s as black and white as “they’re all evil,” but I also don’t think they’re all just playing a part. Beron himself is clearly an abusive, cruel, power-hungry ruler, but does that automatically mean his entire court is evil? No. Does it mean all of his sons are? Not necessarily.

• Beron – I wouldn’t say he’s “evil” in the way that Amarantha or Hybern are. He’s not out here committing mass genocide or enslaving entire courts, but he is a ruthless and abusive ruler. He is clearly manipulative and enjoys exerting control over his family. However, I don’t think he’s interested in outright destruction or chaos—his goal is power and maintaining his rule. That makes him cruel, oppressive, and controlling, but not necessarily a mustache-twirling villain. If anything, he reminds me more of the classic corrupt politician—someone who values power and control over morality but isn’t inherently sadistic the way Amarantha was.

• Eris – Now this is where things get interesting. Eris is a wild card in all of this because we know he’s been playing the long game for a very long time. He’s been framed as cruel and conniving, but there have been multiple hints that he’s not as bad as he seems.

• He let Lucien go instead of killing him, despite the fact that Lucien was a threat to his standing in the family.

• He told Feyre and company that they have no idea what he’s had to do to survive.

• He clearly hates his father, which means that a lot of his actions could be self-preservation rather than outright malice.

• I think he’s the closest in power after Beron and most likely the next heir and is scheming against his father, which suggests that at least some people in Autumn are willing to support him.

Eris might be morally gray, but I don’t think he’s outright evil. He plays a role because he has to—because in the Autumn Court, weakness is fatal. He’s an opportunist, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s without a moral code. He clearly has some sense of honor, even if it’s buried under layers of self-preservation and political maneuvering.

• Lucien – Easily the most morally good of the brothers (at least from what we’ve seen). He’s compassionate, loyal, and genuinely tries to do the right thing. But what’s interesting is that he survived Beron’s court for centuries without being killed, which suggests that he was either really good at staying out of trouble or that his brothers weren’t as eager to kill him as people assume. If Beron’s sons were all pure evil, Lucien probably wouldn’t have made it out alive.

• The Other Brothers – We don’t know much about them, but they seem to lean more toward Beron’s side of things. That said, I think it’s possible that some of them are just going along with the system rather than actually believing in it. It’s a brutal court, and not everyone has the luxury of open defiance.

The Problem with How the Other Courts Are Written

One of the most frustrating things about ACOTAR is that we barely know anything about the other courts. Everything is so Night Court-centric that we never get a truly unbiased look at how the others function. The only information we get is from Rhysand, Feyre, and the IC—who, let’s be honest, are not reliable narrators.

For example:

• Day Court – We know Helion is powerful and progressive, but what does his court actually look like? How do his people live? We’re barely told anything.

• Winter Court – We know they’re supposed to be noble and that Kallias loves his people, but beyond that? Nothing. How do they govern? What are their struggles?

• Autumn Court – We only ever see it through Lucien’s trauma and Eris’s politics, but there are still regular citizens living there. Are they all suffering? Are they all cruel? Or is the court only as bad as its leadership?

It’s incredibly frustrating that five books in, we still don’t have a real understanding of the other courts. Instead, we’re fed this one-sided narrative where the Night Court is somehow the only place with a functional society and everyone else is either “backward,” “corrupt,” or “stupid.”

Who Is Actually Good? Who Is Actually Evil? Who Is Morally Gray?

If we step back from the Night Court propaganda, I think it’s fair to say:

• Amarantha & Hybern → Truly evil. They engaged in mass slaughter, enslavement, torture, and war with zero remorse.

• Rhys & The IC → Morally gray at best, hypocritical at worst. They act like they’re the good guys, but they’ve done questionable, manipulative, and even cruel things to get what they want.

• Beron & His Sons → Somewhere between evil and morally gray. Beron is cruel, but we don’t know if he’s pure evil or just a ruthless politician. Eris is likely gray, and Lucien is actually good.

• Tamlin → Not evil, just deeply flawed and traumatized. He has done bad things, but he’s also been one of the most realistically written characters in terms of regret and guilt.

• Helion, Kallias, and Tarquin → Seem good, but we don’t know enough about them to say for sure.

Final Thoughts

I think the biggest problem is that ACOTAR presents morality in a very biased way. We’re expected to believe that the Night Court is the only place with real progress, the only court worth rooting for, while the others are either evil or irrelevant. But that’s just not good worldbuilding. There’s so much potential for complexity in the other courts, but we don’t get to see it because everything is filtered through Rhysand’s perspective.

So are Beron and his sons evil? Some, maybe. Others, probably not. But the fact that we’re never given the chance to explore that nuance is what’s really frustrating. And until the books actually give us more about the other courts, we’ll just be stuck with this one-sided view that makes the Night Court look like the center of the universe—which, frankly, is getting really old.

[luckypunklemonade]

2/14

“Second guess these words of mine, I always thought that I’d be fine with you. But ever since we crossed that line…”

[Implied smut MDNI 18+; friends to lovers; mutual first time; 2k words] You made a decision with your best friend, Stiles Stilinski, that it was logical to be each other's first time. After all, you trusted each other, and, well, it made you both safer.

an: I love this concept, but I wanted to get this out today, so It's sort of rushed, sorry :( Happy Valentine's Day :)

This work belongs to me, luckypunklemonade (Minte_Condition on AO3). I do not give anyone permission to distribute or share my work without consent.

It started just so we could both get out of the victim pool. Another supernatural event killing off virgins. Shocker. So, naturally, I proposed the idea to Stiles. One of my closest friends who also happened to be a virgin. I trusted him, had known him for years, and knew he’d also hopefully see the logic in it. It’s not like he could make fun of me. I’ve seen him say and do much more embarrassing things. I won most debates because of that. It was starting to become a problem now that it had happened, though.

“Do you remember what this hieroglyphic is?”

Studying a new round of killings in Beacon Hills, the category was Egyptian, and the suspect was a Sphinx demon. Having had a bit of a fixation as a child, I could be of help. 

“What does it look like?” 

“A bird–a stork.” 

I leaned over his shoulder to look at the computer, my hand pulling his shoulder back toward me so I could get a better look. I got the answer out, “Amenophus,” but his cologne cut me off after that. The scent only reminded me of him in my bed, softly and awkwardly humming to try and make it less awkward as he tried to figure out how to take my bra off. He was sort of hugging me, his head next to mine as he peered over my shoulder at his own hands, fiddling with the clasp. He laughed, “I can’t figure this shit out. I don’t know how this is allowed. It’s like a Chinese finger trap.”

I laughed into his shoulder, glad he could tell I was nervous and that he wasn’t making it a big deal. “It’s nothing like that. Here, I can–”

My heart seemed to drop with the weight of anxiety as I felt him finally succeed. He noticed, holding the bra together between my shoulder blades. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just nervous.”

“Hey, me too.” I scoffed. He was more likely excited or just wanting this to be over. Stiles tilted his head and brought it back to look at me. “I’m serious. You couldn’t feel my hand shaking? Why do you think I had so much trouble undoing this freaking restraint?”

“Oh, so you’re otherwise an expert?”

“I can figure out a Rubix cube, puzzle boxes, secret Celtic runes; I think I can figure out how to take off a bra.” “You saw it in porn.” Stiles leaned his forehead onto your shoulder, an embarrassed frown audible in his answer, “Yup.”

Now, all I could notice were things that made me think about him above me in my bed. The way he sat down on Scott’s couch, getting comfortable by pushing his hips up to settle back down into the seat. I realized just how determined he was in his endeavor with me when I noticed his ‘focused’ face the other day and matched it to the one he was making as he stared down at me. He would scratch his forearm, and I’d think of him sliding it beneath me to help me get comfortable, and then his voice as we talked each other through the nerves.

We’ve been close for forever, but I never realized how often I touch him mindlessly until it felt like static every time I did it. My hand twitched as it rested on his back, for the first time wanting to ease up to the back of his head and play with his hair. A lot of things were the same, and it just felt like I was the problem. I felt like I was reading too far into my own emotions. Of course, I’d be a little frazzled and attached to my first time, but I had to remind myself I see him every day. He’s one of my best friends. This confusion will blow over.

Valentine’s Day was coming up. He should get you something, right? I mean, yeah, you guys aren’t dating, but you were each other’s first time. You were best friends. Does this qualify as friends with benefits? He wished he had asked before things settled back into normalcy–when he woke up with your head on his chest. It’s the week of. He could use a conversation with you about this. Friends for seven years, he knew Valentine’s Day was your second favorite holiday behind Halloween. Not because you’d ever had a valentine, but because you loved the definition you gave it. You did that to everything. Even if there was a preconceived understanding, you defined everything. He might’ve been the only one to notice. He loved your version of Valentine’s Day. You dress up, you curl your hair, do your makeup. You take the morning to get yourself coffee, listen to music, and be with yourself. You always came back with donuts for your friends because the day was about love in every aspect. 

He needed to do something. Love in every aspect, right? Even in the weird, unsure, sort-of-still-stuck-on-you-when-he-shouldn’t-be way? He was a little late to be planning too much. You weren’t really a candy or chocolates girl; seven years of friendship, and you only had a select few stuffed animals; you liked to read, but the only thing he knew about the romance genre was that you didn’t read it often because it was getting more and more difficult to execute correctly. So, you stuck to the books you both needed to blow dust from, certain classics, banned books, and miscellaneous genres on your “To Be Read” list.  Whatever he did, he was going to try and be cool about it.

He spent the day before Valentine’s Day in his kitchen practicing. The sheriff came home to his son washing a sink full of dishes and trying to force-feed him his dish. When his critique was satisfactory, Stiles let his dad go to bed and kept washing dishes. He set his alarm a little earlier than usual and went to bed, reassuring himself that he should show you he was thankful. You kind of made sure he wasn’t brutally sacrificed and, of course, that he got laid. And he did learn a few things about sex. Everything real so far, actually. Now that he thought about it, everything he knew was applicable to you. It wasn’t just girls in general who liked it when he made sure their hair was out of their face, it was you, and he did it because he knew you didn’t like your hair in your face. He was going to have trouble associating sex with anyone else for a while, at least. Or thinking about much else around you. 

Of course, you took a late start from school, which left Stiles to think about you and what he should do for you more. When you showed up, he was in the hallway talking to Scott, walking down the stairs. He stopped talking, not at all helping Scott’s already unbearably correct assumption that you and him slept together. He stared at you as you glowed your way through the hallway. He stared at your red lipstick and the ribbon tying your hair out of your face, a job he wanted to do instead at that moment. How satisfying would it be if he walked down that hall and slung his arm around you? How good would it make him feel to walk around that day with a red kiss print on his cheek? On his neck. All over his goddamn face if you felt like it. 

You saw him and grinned, holding up a bag of donut holes. He nodded, swallowing the urge to call you “honey” down. Partly because that was weird and partly because “Sunshine” fit you better at that moment. Before you reached him and Scott, you handed out the respective treats to Lydia and Allison, checking in on them once again after the latest test to the pack’s mental health. By the time you turned back to them, he was already following Scott to meet you. 

His hands kept waking me up. On the sides of my arms, on my hips, my shoulders. I kept sitting up in bed and missing the feeling by milliseconds. It wasn’t ceremonious by any means, but it meant a lot to me. Not just because he did it, but because of how he did it. He made sure it felt right. He didn’t lose me in awkward silence, he encouraged me to speak up. After a while, I did the same. It was awkward, but I knew it would be. We just laughed it off. His fingers didn’t go through my hair smoothly at first, but he took the time to brush them out. I didn’t quite know how to lie down for him, but he had made me comfortable enough so that I felt okay asking. “Here,” he said as his hands guided my shoulders down, cradling my head before it hit the pillows. I wanted to kiss him, but I couldn’t ask for it. I wanted to pull him down by the back of his neck and feel him kiss my head deeper into the pillows. His hands would wander further and get distracted, and he’d let go and forget the reason we were doing it in the first place. We were holding hands. He was mumbling questions for me as he lined himself up. Why shouldn’t I know what he tastes like? 

You’re wearing the smile you always have when you do something nice. A little flustered as you hand people gifts or compliment them. The smile that kept distracting him when you walked up the bleachers with his number painted on your cheek. It was only the second game he was starting in, but he had your full support, even in the freezing weather. Lacrosse season is in winter, which is also sick season. You got sick this year, of course, and you showed up to two games with a cold. He met you after the game, trying not to cough on any proud parents. He was sweating, and you were shivering. With a congested cough, you gave him a thumbs up, and he sent you home to get some rest.

Now, you had a content look on your face, sort of like how you looked when you slept, watching your friends dig into your gifts. Stiles started walking, tapping your shoulder and nodding his head toward an empty classroom. You followed, not without hearing your friends giggle. When you both got away into the classroom, he turned quickly.

“Come to my house tonight. I don’t know if it’d be weird, but I sort of have this whole thing planned. If you think it’s weird, you don’t have to come, I just wanted to find a way to- to thank you, but if today wasn’t the right move–” “You planned something?” “I know just because we had sex doesn’t mean we’re dating. I know we didn’t do it because of that, but I keep getting this feeling like I…”

He stared at you, not worried about ruining the friendship, but terrified you didn’t feel how he felt. “I feel like I want us to be dating after. I know it’s probably because it was my first time and I feel attached or whatever.”

“You feel that, too? I thought it was just– well, yeah.”

“You–” He watched you nervously stare at the ground. 

“You know we never kissed? You were my first time and we never kissed.”

“I wanted to. I really, really wanted to. I didn’t think you’d want that.”

“Me neither.”

Stiles leaned in and you knew. He kissed you gently, just pressing his lips against yours before you pulled away, eyes widening. “Oh, shit.” You wiped his mouth with your sleeve, your red lipstick nearly staining his chin. You made sure to wipe as much as you could off without smudging it. Stiles flinched away and stopped you, “I want it.”

“I got it all. You can’t walk around like that. Am I good?”

He checked for smudging and softly wiped the side of your lip, “You’re great. I can walk around like that and proudly, too. Watch.”

You stopped him before he could kiss you again, laughing away the flush in your cheeks. He saw it regardless. “Uhm…Here. This’ll be more managable.” 

You brought his hand up to your lips and kissed it, leaving your red kiss print on the back of his hand. Stiles admired it for a good thirty seconds before beaming up at you. When you promised to kiss him the right way at his house that night, he finally nodded and followed you back out into the hallway. 

I opened the door and took my shoes off, hearing a small sound of panic from within the house. Stiles had heard me come in, running around the kitchen on a mission. Sitting where he told me, I was faced with two generic three-wick candles. He doesn’t exactly own a candelabra, I smiled to myself. Stiles had the food plated, he was just cleaning the area before bringing it out. I stood up to help, laughing when he whipped around and ordered me to stop, but continued into the kitchen. I didn’t stop laughing as I slipped past him to grab a few miscellaneous things off of the counter or when he took them out of my hands and backed me against the counter. “Stay there,” He said as he turned to put more utensils in the sink. He turned back to hold my shoulders because I was moving again. I smiled and caught him off guard, pressing my lips to his. 

Admittedly, I should have been more considerate and wiped my lipstick off, but I liked the idea of how he’d look. His hands went slack on my shoulders, dropping to my waist. My nerves surged when I felt him hum into my lips. My heart rushed when he took the chance to deepen the kiss, the enthusiasm he put into it pushing my head back into his hand. I mirrored his movements as I slid my hand up to his shoulders. His face was tight with eagerness when I pulled away. He swallowed, lips pressing together. I then noticed my lipstick smudged across his mouth. It strayed above his lips in a hazy pink. I could only imagine what I looked like. I held in a laugh, which he met until we couldn’t. My laugh lasted longer while he focused on the red smeared on my chin. He pulled out his phone, holding it up to his face to take a picture. 

“C’mere,” He mumbled, pressing his cheek to mine and snapping a picture of our mouths, both messy with my lipstick. I hid my face until he led me to my seat again, taking away my napkin so I knew he wanted us to sit together and eat with both of our mouths covered in smudged lipstick.

[cloangi]

When the Smoke Clears

Hesh's thoughts aftermath after Logan gets taken

Horror.

I didn't know how to feel after Elias was killed in front of me with a bullet to his brains. I had watched the way the blood pooled around him, the same blood that was pumping through my veins, through Logan's veins.

Actually...

How was I supposed to react when he told Logan that he was proud of him as his last words? Why not me? Why not us? I had always tried to be a better person by taking care of Logan, I loved him dearly as a brother. I was there for him when dad wasn't.

So why was he given all the credit? What did I miss through the years to not even get a single word of appreciation?

How come the mask was given to him instead? Was I not worthy to inherit it?

Did I not resemble dad enough to even be considered to be given it?

Was I lacking something? Did I try too hard?

I didn't know.

All I knew was that I wanted Logan back. Even if I did envy him a little bit after Elias's death. Sure, I was angry at Rorke for killing him - but I was even angrier that dad never told me that he was proud of me, that he actually cared for me, to tell me that he was glad that I held my ground and gave support even when the world was crumbling around us, Odin.

That I had taken care of Logan when he wasn't there to do it himself. That I had taken the responsibility even if I didn't have to, there was no need to yet I did. My brother looked up more to me than Elias.

So why?

What did I get in return?

Nothing.

Just death.

Just the sight of dad dying and Logan getting taken away from me.

I failed.

I failed to protect both of them.

I failed to be a good soldier.

But most importantly, I failed to he a good big brother.

How could I have been so careless?

How could I have been so sure that Rorke was gone? Dead? How?

I should have known better that Rorke could come crawling back immediately for revenge. I knew how he was, we all knew, so why? Why couldn't I have been more cautious to prevent this?

Why couldn't I have been stronger to go after him?

Why did my body lock up?

Why?

All of these were questions I didn't know the answer to. No matter how much I tried to think, to figure, to solve, I couldn't come across a conclusion.

Besides one.

I wasn't worthy enough to be any of the things I was.

Logan was, he was ruthless, silent. There was a reason why Rorke took him instead of me. He reminded him of Elias - of himself. That same silent courage Logan showed, and I didn't.

I tried, I really did. But I failed.

Was all of my effort for nothing?

So far, it's being proven that way.

No matter how much me and the team are trying, we can't find Logan's location. His last known location was more than half a year ago, who knows where he could be now.

Who even knows if he's still alive or not.

What if he had already been turned into a Fed and was being trained to hunt the rest of the Ghosts down right now?

I don't want to think of it like this, but the dreaded possibility is starting to become a true fact as the days pass.

I don't want to lose Logan, my baby brother. I just can't.

I have already lost dad, and I can't lose Logan, too. Hell, even mom isn't with us anymore. She would have known what to tell me, what to do.

But she isn't here anymore either.

It's just me.

I would have to step up to bat, to be the lone player, and score the point.

To be the one who gets a headshot.

A bullseye.

I've prayed to God, even though my belief in him had been teetering on the edge of completely dissolving. But after everything that happened, I found myself clasping my hands together, on my knees, and mumbling the prayers mom had taught me. After all these years, I still remembered them by heart.

I've prayed for forgiveness, for Logan's health and well-being, that he's still alive, still fighting, still being stubborn to not turn into a Fed.

I don't know what else to do besides pray. I know it's a desprete action, but who else can I go to for help? There's no one here for me.

No one.

God, Logan, please be alive.

I miss you.

We all miss you.

Dont worry, we're all coming for you. We're searching, planning.

And when we do find you, God will, I will fucking kill that motherfucker Rorke and burn the Federation bastards down to the ground. For dad. For all of us Ghosts.

For you.

[hinamie]

playing around w slightly different hair renders

[brionysea]

I'm trying really hard not to just be The Complainer because that's an energy I don't want to bring here when I love (present tense; I rewatch it like 5 times a day) arcane season 1 so much but does anyone remember when powder was taken in by silco and being raised by this very utilitarian merciless 'the ends justify the means' type character made jinx turn out violent and merciless as well. and vi was horrified by her and the lanes were terrified of her and piltover was falling over itself trying to scapegoat her as the one bad apple of the undercity to kid themselves into believing that everyone else was perfectly fine with being treated as less than. and that contrasts vi after vander etc. died because she was raised by him and internalised the idea that no one wins in war and fighting back against systemic oppression isn't worth the damage it causes to your own community which is why she ended up working with cait and the council like vander worked with grayson. the people who raised them shaped them into who they are today but then in season 2 jinx has a daughter and she's suddenly completely normal and well adjusted and her attachment style isn't digging her nails in until she draws blood at all. like What. what happened. didn't things used to mean something

[ohitslen]

Guess who had a little too much fun with the pathetic reincarnation AU idea :))

To summarize! WW gets reincarnated in a very distant future where humanity is more settled down in the planet. He remembers everything and decides to keep living his life as normally as he is able to. That is until he meets his neighbor when he moved to a new apartment.

(More below the cut)⬇️

He was an absolute weirdo of a guy who looked just like Vash in so many ways yet was so different in many others at the same time.

He pretends that his system isn’t going haywire every time he is around the man, the one that resembles someone he cared for so deeply in a life that wasn’t his but remembers all too well. He decides to pretend he doesn’t know Vash because he really doesn’t, not this one at least.

Meanwhile, Vash is going through a very trippy existential crisis for seeing Wolfwood again after what felt like dozens of centuries. This could clearly not be him however because, well, he knows why. So he pretends not to know him because wouldn’t that be weird if he acted like he did?

They avoid each other like the plague, the beautiful and horrible emotions that swarmed on their insides too much to bear just by the presence of the other. They could slip at any moment so it was better to evade the neighbor.

The thing here is, that life has never gone how they want it since ever.

[uncanny-tranny]

You know... it's okay to trust your body. If you are separated from your body to such an extent you feel you cannot trust it, I truly from the bottom of my heart empathize and feel grief for you, but you can trust your body.

It's okay to listen to your body and to heed what it is telling you. I wish you (and your body) well wherever you go. You deserve the peace of mind to feel able to do what you want.

[scribefindegil]

I mean this in the ace-est possible way but Dimple-in-Reigen's-body is really hot. sorry.

[rolex-kaard]

it's actually so stupid

[arolesbianism]

I wanna take a crack at making some fake screenshot graphics for my Sif Odile duo loopers au but I do not feel confident enough in my ability to mimic isat's art style and I also have a crippling fear of drawing backgrounds