#but someone who thinks like that isn’t someone who wants to spend all their time alone

[daynascullys]

because tumblr is the gif website, I feel like everyone here should understand the work that goes into creating a gifset. because I think not everyone does, and it’s a huge part of why people don’t respect gif makers the way that they should.

the simplest gifs you will ever see me post still take the better part of an hour to create. because in order to make a gif, you need the material—for me, that means taking screen captures of videos or finding a download for them, both of which take time. then you have to open photoshop and create your gif, which can take a really long time depending on how quick photoshop is, how long the gif you’re making is, the size, any number of variables. and then I always color my gifs from scratch. if there’s dialogue, I listen over and over to try to make sure it’s correct, sometimes I look up transcripts, and sometimes it takes time to decide how to break up the dialogue. so even if it’s a simple two-gif set of a short scene, it will take the better part of an hour at least. and again, this is for the simplest gifsets I create.

so when I gif a scene, I am spending at least an hour with that tiny little snippet of material. which means that whatever it is that is featured in the gifset, it’s something that I like or tolerate enough to spend at minimum an hour with it. and this is why it DOES NOT MATTER if you are not critiquing the gif itself, gif makers do not want to hear every negative thought you have ever had about an actor, character, scene, or anything else they may have made a gifset for. if you want to complain about something, make your own post.

do not take someone else’s creation as a chance to complain or make nasty comments about anything featured in it. if I am willing to gif something, it means that I am willing to spend my own free time looking at it and working with it and creating something with it. so even if it isn’t my favorite scene or character or actor or whatever, I like it enough to watch the same three second clip over and over again for the better part of an hour. and yes, you’re just one person, but imagine a gifset with 100 notes. say 50 of those are reblogs, and 20 have some sort of complaint in the tags. you only see the tags of people who reblog from you, but OP will see all the tags. which means it’s not just your complaint, it’s all 20 different complaints about the thing they liked enough to make a gifset for.

and look—I understand it’s your blog and you can say whatever you want. I understand that I am creating something to be seen by other people and I don’t get to control what people say or do in the tags. if you read this and think fuck that, I can do what I want, you’re right. the purpose of this post is to remind you that you can do whatever you want, but the consequence may be that the people who are creating content for your fandoms stop posting altogether because they get sick of reading everyone’s negative opinions.

all that said, for the love of god: if you like something, reblog it. send asks and tell people you like their creations. say it in the tags. send things to friends. DO NOT REPOST THINGS. if you want to reap the benefits of other people creating things, make them feel like their work is appreciated.

[andcars]

[ 𝗕𝗘𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗗𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗦 ] Mondays in Monaco

premise. you're not someone who's quick to judge anything that journalists put out on the internet. after weeks of not being with lewis, a picture surfaces with lewis and some other woman. you're not abou to lose him over this.

tags #ㅤlight angst, implied sexual content, thoughts on cheating, (more like worries that your partner is cheating but it's not real), light miscommunication, (solved fairly quick) wc #ㅤ 1.6k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

| MASTERLIST⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀MONDAYS IN MONACO

Dating one of the biggest men in sports isn’t easy. Surprisingly, it’s less about your title and your own achievements being overshadowed by being Lewis Hamilton’s girl and more about the mouths of journalists who run without mercy. It’s like none of them can take a break.

Days blur as you’re left alone in his penthouse. With his change to Ferrari, he has been spending more time in Maranello than in Monaco. That's not bad. He has his own job, you have your own. Both of you keep in contact daily, is that not enough? Distance doesn't kill love, people do.

At work, you get a decent salary while doing what you love. It's honest work and it takes your mind off complicated things like the media. While you're in the zone, your co-worker greets you by the doorframe. 

“Hey.”

You glance at him, “Hey.” Your hands work meticulously and your head is focused. However, the prolonged silence makes you glance back at your co-worker. “What?”

He shrugs, acting as if he isn't about to say something. That was only an act as he's already entering your space. “You're dating that one racer, right?” It's a breath of fresh air when people don't shove it into your face that you’re dating an icon.

“Yeah,” you nod, your body coming to a slow close, “What's up?”

“The, ah, Hamilton?”

“Yes,” you laugh, putting your hands away from your work, “what is it? You want an autograph?”

He reacts immediately, rolling his eyes with a defensive flail of his hands. “No, God,” he exclaims. “I can't get past the sports things.” He shivers as if it's such a bother to his life.  “But… apparently they caught him exiting some woman's yacht.”

This is news to you. “Yacht?” He's supposed to be in Maranello.

“Yeah. Look at this.”

You pat your hands with a towel, trying to take the excess clay off your fingers when you're handed the phone. To everyone's relief, he holds it for you instead. The screen displays a photo—clearly taken without their consent—of Lewis and another woman in a yacht. Both of them are in state of undress; Lewis wears nothing but swimming shorts, and sunglasses as his hair is tucked neatly in dreads; then, the mysterious woman in her bikini and blonde hair down to her chest.

It's… something. 

You're never one to assume things. It's harmful to the soul and the relationship. From the pictures, they could simply just be physically together. It could've been a late party last night—a night he didn't come home to you. He has his own life, it's not like you were one to go to all of his afterparties either. It's just something that never interested you.

You retell yourself, that people don’t kill the love, trust does.

“Thanks,” you tell him. There's a coil around your heart and you’re doing everything to get it off you. “But I’m sure I can talk to him about this.”

“Of course. I’m sorry if this seems like it's out of my business but…”

You nod, trying to see everything in the bigger picture. “I get it. I’d do the same if your boy was cheating on you too.”

That makes him laugh. “Oh, no, you're better than me. If you showed me that, I would've cut his dick off immediately.” He thinks again of what he said, taking in your calm demeanour. “Oh. Sorry.”

Travelling from Nice to Monaco is a peaceful event. One of the things you love about working in Nice is the ride there. It's a quick break from your personal life and to work. In the middle, nothing really matters. When you get home, you're pleasantly surprised to see Lewis already there. 

Limbo has ended when you exit your car. “Hey,” he smiles at you, preparing food for himself and you. Him with a meal tailored to his diet, and yours with your favourite dish.

“Hi.” Lewis was always sweet when he hadn't seen you in a while. It's like his way of making it up to you. “I thought you were still out in Italy?”

*Huh?” Food flew in mid-air for a second, his head having snapped to yours. “No. I came home last night and stayed at a friend's place.”

You try to tell yourself your tone isn’t as sharp as you thought it was as you ask, “You mean her yacht?”

He laughs, shaking his head. That didn't even faze him. That's good, you think. If he was cheating, he would've been sending warnings all over his body. Instead, he tells you, “She practically lives there. I don't think I ever seen her on the shores.”

“Huh.” You tap your fingers on the island, he glances at it “A bunch of paparazzi saw the two of you though.”

“Really?” He puts the utensils down and suddenly, you know the conversation has taken reigns. "We were pretty far off the shore,” he says, “I'm surprised they can capture us from there.”

“Great lenses.”

He turns the stove off. “Is everything okay?”

“I'm sorry.” It's getting to you. You don't *like” that it's getting to you. “What do you think, Lewis?”

The man smiles. There's an easy smile on his face but you can tell he's just as saddened as you are. “Sweetheart,” he calls, putting his hands on your arms and facing you to him, “tell me what's wrong. Please?”

What's wrong feels like a complicated question. However, it's a simple answer, “I've missed you.”

“I've missed you too,” he says, immediately knowing what to say.

“No, it's just…” there are words stuck that you aren't quite sure how to get out. You try anyway. “You've been busy with Ferrari, I know that. I didn't go into this relationship not knowing what to expect. But it's just hard to talk as much as before and then I see pictures of you in another woman's yacht half naked so I just…”

“Assumed?” he smiles, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes. “Is it so bad?”

It's not. He knows it's not. You don't like how he kisses you first instead of explaining. It's not like you're complaining in the long run though. When he pulls away, he's humming as he drums his finger over your collar. “Well, if I'm being honest, I would've reacted way worse if I saw you like that with someone else.”

You remember that similar words were said to you. “Everyone keeps saying that.”

“What?”

“That they're gonna react worse.”

“Because,” Lewis kisses your cheeks, your jaw, and presses a sharp one just on your collarbone “You're forgiving. You're patient. You're the smartest woman I know stuck with a guy who travels for a living. It's unfair because you should be with someone who's there for you for every part of your life—”

“Lewis—”

“I’m being serious here.” He is, you know it. “You deserve someone like that.” Your head rests on his palm, your eyes locking in and you can only see the love radiating from him “But I’m glad it's me. I'm not gonna be the perfect man that you deserve, but know that I'm gonna try my hardest.

“And baby, I want you to punch me for even looking like I was about to cheat on you.”

That pulls you out of it. “Oh, come on,” you scoff, “be serious here.”

“I'm serious. I would've beaten up the guy you were with if you were in my position.”

You think he's being silly. It barely matters when his hands go under your shirt. It's nothing too much—he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. It's the intimacy and the warmth of your skin that makes him want this. It's nice. You ask him, mind trying to come back to the conversation, “Then shouldn't that mean that I should punch your friend then?”

Lewis shakes his head, putting a kiss on your forehead, “No, no. It should be me who takes the blow. I would be the idiot who went for someone else when I had this angel in my home.”

“Mhm?” He hums back, his hand teasing just on your waistband and you let out a laugh. “And I'm not the idiot who goes for someone else?”

“No, my sweet angel. You would be the genius getting what you deserve.”

To say the truth, there was barely any doubt. The loneliness for the past few weeks has crawled up to you—he knows that. You're never shy about communicating your feelings. For days, you've pouted over text how you miss him. Now that he's here, you're enjoying his hands roam your body as eagerly as his lips do.

It's like he's learning you all over again. He knows your favourite places yet he massages and kisses them like it's the first time. He's experimenting. He wants to know how to make you feel good again. It's a testament to show how he knows your body more than you ever could. Your heart grows fond with each kiss, a devotion of love just on the other side of it.

When both of you are in bed, stomach and heart full, you realise something. Well, more like you’re contradicting something. 

You tell him, “It's not about what I deserve.”

“Hm?” He's snuggled beside you, hands under your shirt and relaxed. 

“You deserve… an eight championship. A good car. A better team. But it's not about what you deserve.” You turn to look at him but he's already looking at you. “It's about what you want and what you'll do to get it. For me, it's what I’ll do to keep it.”

That’s enough for you.

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @rtorresblog @Jamie2305 @nichmeddar @vannylen2144

FOOTNOTE ────── i wrote this with my wrist hurting like HELL TT but more lewis hamilton on the go. i rlly like him but I've never written much on him. hope u like this! also reader here is very kind cuz I do not like messy relationships lol. it's my first fic for mondays in monaco (posted on tuesday 12am) so i hope you stay tuned for the next few fics!

[nortism]

I wanted to talk about @pilferingapples ‘s autistic Fantine headcanon that has been brought up in the Les Mis Letters server because it has rewired my brain and the more I think about it the more I can see my own experiences as an autistic woman reflected in Fantine’s story.

Fantine is introduced as being an outsider amongst the other grisettes. I think Hugo’s intention here was to paint her as innocent and virtuous in comparison to them but the way it reads to me is that she is someone who just can’t quite connect with her peers. She is described as being dreamy and “always having a queer look about her” in the words of Favourite.

The way Fantine is treated by the other girls rings very true to me as an autistic woman in my experience with friendship. She does consider the other grisettes her friends yet they speak cruelly about her behind her back (Favourite saying she puts on airs) and to her face (Dahlia mocking her for crying over a dead horse). Yet she offers no resistance, in fact she barely seems to acknowledge these things as offensive, because that’s just what being friends is.

The friendship between the four grisettes is shown to be truly shallow when after Tholomyes’ “prank”, they all go their separate ways, with Hugo saying it was like they’d never been friends in the first place. Realistically, one of the few examples of female friendship in the brick being portrayed as shallow and catty is most likely down to some lingering misogyny on Hugo’s part but it is something I find relatable as someone who has allowed myself to be treated poorly by others because I thought that’s how friendship was supposed to be. I’m sure a lot of other autistic people can relate to this as well.

Additionally, I think it’s interesting how the other grisettes criticisms of Fantine come down to her not acting in the expected way and fitting in with group. Favourite accuses her of putting on airs because she won’t swing like the other girls (therefore let the men look up her skirt). Dahlia laughs at her for getting emotional over the dead horse because her emotions are tainting the happy outing they’re all having. Fantine being empathetic towards animals isn’t an inherently autistic trait by itself but her inability to suppress her emotions or just go along with what everyone else is doing is something I think a lot of neurodivergent people can relate to.

Her relationship with Tholomyes is probably the biggest example of Fantine not understanding unspoken social rules. I’m no history expert and people have definitely written more in depth posts on the relationships between upper class men and working class women in France in this period but from what I’ve gathered it was understood that these relationships were purely transactional. The men got sex and attention and the women got gifts and nice days out to places they couldn’t afford by themselves. There’s more nuance than that I’m sure but that’s the gist.

We know the other three grisettes are aware of this aspect of the relationship. They are eager to receive a “surprise”, an expensive gift they could later sell on. Favourite flatters her lover to his face and says all the things he expects of her but confesses to the other girls that she doesn’t like him because he isn’t playing his role of spending money on her.

Fantine is seemingly oblivious to all of this. Maybe it’s her ostracisation from the other girls that is keeping her ignorant or maybe she knows how it is for them but genuinely believes she and Tholomyes are different. Either way it’s clear to me that her and Tholomyes have very different ideas about their relationship and that subtext has not been picked up by Fantine. For the record, this is completely on Tholomyes, even if he’s supposed to be playing the expected role, leaving his mistress without any financial aid for their child together is bad even by the standards of the time. However Fantine is definitely naïve.

Also if you read Fantine as autistic, her reasons for being in love with Tholomyes make a lot more sense. From Hugo’s description, it doesn’t seem like Tholomyes has many redeeming features: he’s balding and missing teeth, he’s a student in his thirties and he is in poor health. Yet he pays attention to Fantine, he flatters her and spends money to keep her in a nice apartment.

If we assume that Fantine is autistic and has spent her life being an outsider, this onslaught of affection would lead her to let her guard down and believe that this is what love should look like. Even without the autism, Fantine was an orphan, she didn’t have any examples of what a marriage was supposed to look like growing up so how could she possibly resist a man who seems to be doing and saying all the right things?

I think my conclusion is it doesn’t really matter if you want to read Fantine as being autistic or not. I think all the factors I’ve outlined in this post can be explained by her upbringing and her still being very young during her relationship with Tholomyes rather than having to be neurodivergence. However, I think looking at Fantine through an autistic lense has given me a new appreciation for the character and being an outsider in society, a big theme in Les Mis, is generally a relatable sentiment for neurodivergent people and I think it’s interesting to explore that in the context of Fantine.

[hayleysayshay]

Okay this is what I dislike about Keyleth’s storyline in season three of TLOVM, and the Vaxleth romance.

Here’s what is happens between them:

Keyleth in episode one, is angry at Raishan and the group for choosing to work with her. She is ready for a relationship with Vax, who pushes her away.

Then in episode three, we reiterate that she is ready for a relationship with Vax, who is pushing her away. Throughout the eps we get a reminder that Keyleth is mad at Vax for this. Vax is the problem.

In episode six, Vax and Keyleth have an awkward convo.

In episode eight, Vax and Keyleth sleep together after Percy’s death. Things can change at any moment, they’re better off for acting on their feelings.

Episode ten: Keyleth fucks off, angry at Vax and the othere for not listening to her over Raishan

Episode eleven: we are told that Keyleth needs to open her heart up to love and Vax. She does so, level up, she forgives Vax.

Episode twelve: Keyleth uses her power up to body Raishan solo. Her and Vax are together.

The problem is that Keyleth’s romance storyline is very disconnected from her storyline with Raishan, and they try and tie them together at the end and fail to do so.

Keyleth doesn’t have an issue with letting Vax love her. She loves him at the start. Vax has the problem. He’s the one who needs to learn to let Keyleth in. This in contrast to the campaign, where Keyleth is the more hesitant member. It takes her a while to be ready for Vax. Vax is happy to wait for her. In TLOVM, from the start of s3, Keyleth doesn’t have this problem, she’s ready and waiting. She is ready to be vulnerable with Vax, she wants him, even when they disagree over Raishan at the start.

But then, we’re told Keyleth has a problem with loving Vax. But she doesn’t. She just feels betrayed and confused over the group’s support of Raishan. So what she need to work through is managing conflict with the group, her morals and sense of betrayal. I think being a leader means that you are able to manage these feelings of betrayal.

Letting herself love Vax helps ground her, then she passes the Earth Trial.

I do get that it’s meant to be ‘let yourself love him even if he hurts you sometimes’ BUT it does feel like we’re yo-yoing motivations for Keyleth here. She was ready for Vax to love her after Percy died, despite him hurting her in the previous episodes.

By focussing on Vax, we don’t get to the root issues Keyleth has with Raishan. She’s grieving her people, and feels anger and rage. The solution is she needs to love. But what if it happens again, when someone lets her down who isn’t Vax?

Instead her solution is to just murder Raishan solo, but she doesn’t learn to lean on anyone, or let anyone in who isn’t Vax.

There’s a line in the death letter in the campaign from Percy to Vox Machina, the part addressed to Keyleth: learn to forgive the world for not living up to your standards. It can be considered patronising, but it’s true. Keyleth is the most moral, ‘preachy’ member of Vox Machina. TLOVM avoids this characterisation — I think it’s fine in season one where she’s finding her inner strength but should be leaning into her morality after she finds her voice. After all, wouldn’t being leader of the air Ashari mean you’d confront these problems all day? But taking focus away from Keyleth’s problems with Raishan (that aren’t just ‘VM betrayed me over her’) and making the resolution just be loving Vax, we’re not confronting or delving into Keyleth as a character in her own right. It attempts to, but the yo-yo nature of the Vaxleth relationship in season three just means we spend more time on arguments and less time on the deeper reasons why they’re at odds.

What I would propose:

Ep 1: Vax and Keyleth both mutually agree that they’re not able to be in a relationship: Keyleth unsure about it outliving everyone (cut Vax’s stupid visions) and Vax is unsure of his destiny with the RQ. This cuts out the repetitive arguments and conflict in the first half. They’re both on the same page, they’re just both stupid.

Cut the ep 3 argument (don’t worry humour lovers, Vax can still be outside her door, wondering if he should knock so he bumps into Percy).

Eps 4-6, Instead of Keyleth being mad at Vax, focus more in on Keyleth’s general rage and grief at Raishan. Vax wants to comfort her but neither are allowing themselves to get too close.

Keep ep 6 awkward chat after the hot tub.

Keep ep 8 banging, but before this add in Percy’s death letter (to make everything extra sad)

Ep 10-11 (I’d rework Ripley’s death to be Ep 7 or 8 so Keyleth isn’t alone) but have Keyleth’s trial be more about the group as a whole and how the people around her ground her to face problems: she can’t do this solo, that completing her trials means she needs to understand leadership, and it means working with people she thinks are going to be wrong, and that includes her friends, and how to navigate that and let the anger go. She talks with Grog before the trial about how he controls his rage: it’s family.

Then Keyleth bodies Raishan with the help of her friends in Ep 12 :) then Vaxleth smooch

Keyleth in the campaign is the most moral and preachy member. Some said it was annoying, I say it’s interesting. But in TLOVM, her arc is flattened down and tied to romance. Vax is incredibly important to her in the campaign but he’s not the only thing that matters to her.

But alas, romance over characterisation or themes is a predominant issue in TLOVM, especially with Vaxleth.

[danikamariewrites]

Hey! Would you be willing to write a fic or head cannon on how Ruhn would react to being mated to someone who is the complete opposite of him? Like maybe she is introverted and enjoys reading on the weekends instead of partying or something? If not that's okay! Hope you have a great day!

Opposites Attract

Ruhn x reader

Notes: I am 100% the opposite of Ruhn and will always be the friend that picks staying home over going out. Books over bars am i right guys

Warnings: none

The two of you met by chance. You hadn’t been paying attention while walking to work and bumped into Ruhn

He caught you when you tripped over your feet and then you apologized a million times. The moment your eyes locked the bond was instant. “I thought it was a myth.” Ruhn whispered. From there you took things slow even though the two of you fell hard for each other

You liked hanging out at your place better than Ruhn’s

It’s not that you didn’t like the frat house, you were just more comfortable in your own space

You liked staying home anyway. Everything you need is there

Ruhn didn’t mind staying at your place. He would cook you dinner, cuddle and watch movies without interruption

As your relationship progressed Ruhn was happy he could feel your comfort and happiness down the bond

It wasn’t like people didn’t know about you. You hadn’t been on double dates with Hunt and Bryce. Been to dinner with his friends and all that

But there was a part of Ruhn that felt like he was disappointing you

“Are you sure you don’t want to go out tonight?” Ruhn asked while you cuddled on your couch. “Yeah,” your eyes never leaving the TV. “If you want to go out please, don’t let me stop you.” Tilting your head back you smile at your mate

Ruhn turned off the TV, sitting up to face you. “Y/n be honest with me. Do you not like being with me?” The sadness in his voice broke your heart. Cupping his cheeks you shake your head. “Not at all baby, no. Ruhn how could you think that?” Ruhn lets out a shaky breath. “You never want to go out. And we never go to my place, why?” You hug him tight. “It has never been because of you. I just get anxious in new spaces and I don’t like partying. I’d much rather be here with you.”

After that conversation Ruhn became more understanding with you liking your space

Ruhn is a tad bit clingy but you love it

He’s always torn between going out and staying with you. How could he possible leave his beautiful mate at home?!

While he goes out you like your alone time. You chat with your friends, read, or watch TV

The first time Ruhn came home from a boys night he stumbled into your house very, very drunk

It was kinda cute because he was so happy to see you

“My love! My mate, the light of my life, I missed you!” He flops on the bed next to you, staring at you with big eyes. “My friends aren’t as fun as you,” he whispered, making you giggle. Ruhn pulls you to his chest letting out a hum. “I feel much better now. My heart hurt without you.”

You started going more places with Ruhn, trying to get comfortable with the attention that came with being the crown prince’s mate

When you didn’t like a place Ruhn was very understanding about it

You weren’t a huge fan of bars or anything like that. It’s not that you didn’t see the appeal, it just isn’t for you

You eventually grew to being comfortable at Ruhn’s place, even staying the night

Staying for parties at the frat house was also something you grew to be comfortable with. Especially when Ruhn made it clear that his bedroom was your room too

He absolutely did not give 2 shits about how clean his room was until he met you

The first time you came over to spend the night at his place Ruhn was running around like a mad man to make it look like grown-ups lived here

Ruhn was def shoving all loose items in his closet (the only neat thing being his made bed) until Dec came to check on him

“Heyyy buddy, you good?” “NO! PLEASE help me, i have too much shit.”

Whenever you’re feeling tired or just done with the party you always sneak away to Ruhn’s room

He’s never far behind you

You get about 10 min of alone time before Ruhn comes in ready to cuddle

When he comes up drunk he’s adorable

“Bbaayyyybbyyyyyy, i missed you.” He flops on the bed, pulling his clothes off and snuggles into you before falling asleep

You def read while holding him

Drunk Ruhn can fall asleep with the lights on for sure

When he comes up not drunk he just dotes on you

If the music and crowd were too much he’s very gentle with you, rubbing your back and pressing kisses to your forehead while whispering sweet nothings

[tojisteddy]

Toji core.

“Forwards, beckon, rebound. Forwards, beckon, rebound.”

Or: My idea of Toji’s is like in his simple life + a little bit of you.

cw: alternate universe, shall be referring to this toji as, ‘casual!Toji’ the Toji that I will almost always refer to when I write because I love this idea of him, childless!Toji, he’s still assassin but it’s just a side gig, bit of angst, suggestive talk, talks of mental health.

Casual!Toji, is actually not as bad as you think with his money… Okay, is it mainly because he has a lot of it? Yes. Does he spend a fair amount gambling? Yes. There’s method to the madness.

Casual!Toji, who does job hop here and there whenever he gets the itch to. He switches from being a mechanic to carpentry to construction. His favorite jobs are in carpentry (which he’s actually really good at), he likes building things that will last.

Casual!Toji, that has a devious smirk on his face as he eggs drunkards on in the middle of the day so he can watch free WWE fights. Even going as far betting money on who’s gonna win and winning $100.

Casual!Toji loved going to new bars and trying out new alcohol and food, you even created an account where you tweet, word for word, his criticism of the bar, the good and bad. The account has about 2000 dedicated followers. It’s cute.

The older man has to work out, whether it be in the house, the backyard or the gym. He knew his way around a gym, could be a trainer if he could tolerate training someone. He needed to keep his body fit, for any type of job he had, for himself and to keep up the libido. You’d suggested working out too, and got a strict ‘No.’ why? “I love seein my girl pass out after being fucked out ‘f her mind.”

Casual!Toji, who is a loving dog dad of two large English Dobermans. His big boy, Hobi named after Hobie Brown (yes named after Spider-Man, I think Toji would be a big fan actually, especially of Andrew Garfield’s, he definitely has a few figurines around the house. Along with the Spider-Man plush that Hobi keeps in his mouth). And then his baby girl, Rina who has a green collar with a little white bow and always ready to play. Both of them are incredibly well trained (and can attack) thanks to Toji training them.

When he’s out of a job, Casual!Toji wakes up in the middle of the day, then spends the last hours of day right at the horse track. Betting on whatever horse is in the seventh lane because ‘lucky 7 always wins’. Sometimes he wins some extra cash, on a great day he’s at the bar with Shiu and celebrating with strangers. Drunk dialing you, “ ‘M gonna buy you whaaatever you want mama. Want a new bag, I’ll buy it for ya!’ ‘Toj, it’s 2 am.’ a pause. Silence. ‘ ‘Nd yer sleepin without me? Where the hell are you woman?’

Casual!Toji, that has a devious smirk on his face as he eggs drunkards on in the middle of the day so he can watch free WWE fights. Even going as far betting money on who’s gonna win and winning $100. He can be an ass.

He can act like such an old man sometimes, grumbling up a storm if he’s pissed off. Forgetting all the time. Or taking a nap anywhere he felt suit in the middle of the day. And of course, if Casual!Toji was napping he’d have you right there in his arms telling you to ‘go the hell to sleep.’ You two were on a joint schedule.

Casual!Toji isn’t a chain smoker, but he needs at least one throughout the day. Whether it be on the back porch, while he’s making a quick trip to the confer store, in the bathtub or right before he joins you for a nap on the couch.

Loved bickering with you, loved seeing you get flustered or annoyed, your eyebrows knitting together and saying some bullshit from your pretty fucking lips. Casual!Toji couldn’t help that stupid smirk that would form on his face and you’d get more pissed. You were so fuckin adorable to him.

He didn’t expect to want you so badly, you were adamant on just staying fuck buddies, but the green eyed monster slithered into your life. If you didn’t want him, Casual!Toji would fuck your brains out until you had to stay over. And suddenly, you’re feeding the dogs while he’s making breakfast. Your doing the laundry together, going on lunch dates, coming back to his place after work—

When the hell did that happen?

Of course he has tattoos, a large black, grey and red back piece to be exact of a dragon. He had some other tattoos around his body too, angel wings right behind his ear for his deceased wife. He’d get one for you as soon as he put a rock on your finger.

Casual!Toji knows you hate when he takes “jobs”, you never know if he’s going to end up completely beat up, or without a scratch. Or worse, not coming back at all. But he needed the money. It was for reassurance, stabilizing your joint future. He didn’t want you to worry about money with him, he’d provide for you, even if he died. You hated when he talked like that, you’d leaving for a couple days. Maybe a week. And he’d be right there in front of your apartment once his gut told him to got see you, food in hand, going back to your usual routine. He understood your anger, the worry. But he couldn’t comfort you properly because he wouldn’t quit. Only thing he could do is stay by your side.

You’d been forced to learn how to sew up a bullet hole or stab wound (with the help of delirious Toji barking at you to get it right the first time), knew how to clean up blood that would stain the floors, calm the dogs as they barked for their owner to get proper help, and knew above all else the silence that would fill the house once you finished playing surgeon. Toji’s soft shallow breaths filling the air, chest rising and falling slowly. And you’d sit and keep watch. As if you were stronger than him, like you could protect him from all the bullshit that he’d just endured.

You thought of leaving once or twice.

But it led you to dead ends. You loved Toji. Toji loved you. And no matter how many times Toji told you. Baring himself naked before you, giving you everything, and I mean everything, he had, no matter how you looked at it; you were each other’s life lines. There was no one without the other. Soulmates. So you’d sit, for hours upon hours, making sure he was alright. Padding away the sweat that would build up on his forehead as he slept. Until you felt his large calloused hand stoking the curly baby hairs at the back of your neck. “Come on baby, go to sleep.”

And you did.

The man wasn’t a fan of music. Hed listen to whatever you put on and enjoy it. He’d listen as you rambled your pretty little head off about your favorite artists, even memorizing the songs you had on constant replay. But Casual!Toji loved listening to The Smiths, Mac DeMarco, Tame Impala, Nirvana, Frank Ocean, Brent Faiyez, and Najabes. He’d tickle underneath your chin as he’s sing along, ‘Now your lost, lost in the heat of it all.’

Casual!Toji who isn’t a dirty bastard. He loves taking a shower and a bath with you after a long day of work, even going to the public bathhouse so ease his mind. He made it his mission to book a private onsen with you during the holidays because he knew that was really the only time you had off during the year.

Prefers to do things together. Laundry, cooking, errand runs, watching whatever you watched— had to be in your vicinity like Clifford the big red dog.

Casual!Toji who has to fuck you atleast twice a week, whether he has your pretty wet cunt in his mouth, your hand softly squeezing his cock as you rubbed him off, your face pressed against the bathroom tile as he drills into you from behind or he’s fucking you right against the kitchen table right before you two had dinner.

Casual!Toji who doesn’t mind cursing you out no matter where you are. Unless he’s already told you once, he won’t hold his tongue when he needs to correct you. “watch your fuckin mouth.” “ ‘nd who the fuck are you talkin to?” “keep it up.” “You never shut the fuck up, do you Doll?”

Despite your playful bickering and your real arguments, he’s learned to properly communicate. Even if he has to write it down, he wants to get through to you. Casual!Toji wants to be better for you. He wants to be the best man for you and your future kids.

Casual!Toji, who doesn’t understand why it takes so long to do your hair but keeps his mouth shut about it because he’d rather not piss you off when your already annoyed to no end. He’ll go back and forth between the bedroom to the living room. Watching as you angled your head a certain way to detangle and style your hair. Then going back to the living room to watch whatever reality show that was on. When you were finished and cleaned up, you’d come and throw yourself on Toji. Who’d only acknowledge you with the grunt.

Then he’d place his hand at the back of your neck, gently rubbing it with a thumb. Giving you a much needed praise after all your hard work. “Good job baby.”

Casual!Toji, who loves Westerns. John Wayne, Django, Magnificent Seven— you name it. He’s watched it. There are even some cowboy posters and cowboy dog toys laying around. Also liked watching Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman. He caught you watching it alone and got hooked.

The man stays in sweatshirts, gym shorts, sweatpants, wife beaters, plain t-shirts, leather jackets, black jeans sweatpants or a yukata. No in between. You had to beg him to add a few graphic tee’s to his attire. There’s a singular black suit that’s too small in the very back of his closet with a matching pair of wedding rings that were once used by Casual!Toji.

On the shelf above it is a pink tattered shoe box. A few pictures of Toji, ones of him smiling like an idiot, a few of a beautiful woman with short black hair with some silly faces, one or two marriage photos, a handkerchief, an old shirt, and a death certificate. It dropped on your head one day, right as you two were about to bathe for the night. Toji found you on the floor, hurriedly trying to put everything back in the box. But he’d simply bent down, neatly folding the shirt and the handkerchief, putting it in its place. And then reached for one of their marriage photos and turned it towards you.

“She was real nice. Kinda stupid, like you. But real nice.”

It was odd, seeing Toji so- so melancholy. He’d put the box back, grabbed the pack of cigarettes that was on the night stand and headed towards the connecting bathroom. You could hear some shuffling, the bath water running, and then he called out,

“Come on Doll.”

A silent Toji was never a good one.

Least, that’s what you had made up in your mind.

Toji’s head was in the clouds, the shower was quiet, the bath was quiet, something by Radiohead played softly from the speaker. The pitter patter. squishing of moving water, the crackling of Toji’s cigarette dancing between his lips and his fingers.

You shoved yourself at the end of the tub, pulling your knees to your chin— almost trying to hide yourself.

“Sorry.” You squeaked out. You felt as if something was on your shoulders, weighing you down. Maybe you were trying to compensate for the silence.

Toji cracked his neck, head falling back as he took another drag of the cigarette, “What are you apologizing for?”

He scuffed, how tense things had gotten annoyed him. Memories of his deceased wife annoyed him too, but he learned to live with the loss. Learned that everyone else moved on while he was left stranded, forced to find his own way to continue living. Years had passed, and you coincidentally fell into his lap, right in the middle of purgatory. And you created a little heaven despite your pasts.

“And why are you over there, come ‘ere. Practically burned holes in tuh me all night” His voice was gruff, his green eyes finally meeting your brown ones, but he was motioning you over.

You hesitated, before you could try to find another out, Toji pulled you by his arm. Settling you in between his legs, your back to his chest. Just like you were supposed to be.

Toji wasn’t one for serious words, not in situations like this. But he held you close, trailing his fingers from from your shoulder blades, down your arm to your hand. Taking his large hand in your smaller one and bringing it to his lips.

“I love you, you know?”

On days when it pours and pour rain, or when the snow meets your calfs— Toji is right on the porch, in his dark blue yukata that’s half open showing his chest, despite the cold, cigarette in between his pink lips, journal in hand and writing away. Who knows what he writes in there. It could be essays or simple notes and you wouldn’t know. You just knew it’s best to leave him alone to his thoughts when he’s like that. And when he’s done, which could be in 5 minutes, 30 minutes, 2 hours— there’d be hot tea waiting for him, two dogs who wanted head pats and a woman ready to give him as much love as he wanted.

[izavella21]

This book. This book right here. I love it. I love it a lot. Here are some reasons why:

The narration style. I remember when I first read this book, there were so many moments where I'd read a line and think "so relatable". Tori, why are you so relatable?

Tori and Charlie's relationship. I think it's not that common to see a wholesome sibling relationship, so I'm glad that was included in this book. (Also, I don't know if it's just me, but I feel that we don't really see that a lot in Heartstopper)

Tori and Charlie both saw the signs of each other's decline in mental health, and regret never doing anything about it. And they both assure each other that despite the mental health struggles, and despite not doing anything about each other's mental health struggles, they still love each other and care about each other.

There's a scene where Lucas gives Tori a can of Sprite, and Tori mentally notes that it isn’t the drink she likes. Later in the book, Micheal gives Tori diet lemonade, which is the drink she likes. And the beats of these two scenes are very similar.

Also, after Lucas gives Tori the sprite, she asks him about the books he has, and one of them is The Great Gatsby. When Tori asks him what’s it about, he answers “It’s about someone who's in love with a dream." You don't say...

(Basically, I think those two scenes are meant to show that Lucas is in love with idea of Tori, while Michael loves Tori as she is. Lucas goes about his relationship with Tori in the "wrong" way, while Michael goes about it in the "right" way)

The way Tori’s depression was handled felt so…candid for lack of a better term. I feel that depression and suicidal thoughts/ideation is something that is tricky to get right. I think Solitaire is a good depiction of depression. A believable one at least. One where you're able to empathize with the character.

Michael Holden. Just, Michael Holden.

I don't know about others, but I've always read Tori and Micheal's relationship as queerplatonic. You never see that in fiction, so I appreciate it.

The story takes place in winter, and there are so many moments when Micheal shows up in a t-shirt, or otherwise light clothing, and Tori wonders at various points if he’s a human furnace.

Meanwhile, there are multiple lines where Tori is described as a “ghost” or as “cold”.

Nick Nelson beating up Ben Hope. Do I condone violence? No. Do I condone violence towards Ben Hope by Nick Nelson? Absolutely.

The scene where Tori's not having a good day, and Michael comes over to her house to spend time with her so that she isn't alone. In their phone conversation before that, Michael says that Tori reminds him of "an old person who lives alone, like, with cats and daytime television." Michael also seems like the type of person who would keep old people company.

The scene where Tori realizes Michael wanted to invite her to one of his races, a really important one at that, and the minute she realizes this, she instantly books it to the rink. She wasn't planning on doing anything that day, but the minute she learned that Michael had something important going on, she dropped everything to be there.

I think every scene focused on Tori and Micheal is amazing.

To this day, it amazes me that Alice Oseman wrote and published this book at the age of SEVENTEEN!

There was the right balance between dark and mature elements and more wholesome ones. I'd say that's the case for all of Alice Oseman's work, but especially Solitaire, which is considered the darkest. I feel that's a tricky balance to strike, and I felt that Solitaire, even the original iteration, strikes that balance well.

This book has short chapters, and I think that makes it easy to read.

I love the audiobook. I mean the old audiobook narrated by Jayne Entwistle. I've listened to the new one narrated Jenny Walser, and it's good, but I think I prefer the old one. It's so pleasant to the ears. I love her voice.

Thank you for reading!

[henkdeplank]

I should be thanking you for writing all of these paragraphs, they’re super interesting and I’m enjoying this back-n-forth a lot :)

I hadn’t even thought about the fact that both the dragons and teens will need to be careful about changes in behavior. Hmmm… although I think that Fishlegs could be relatively easy to hide, considering (atleast I think) he’s generally more a pacifist/less aggressive person. And I think he would, regardless of having befriended Meatlug or not, be someone who just kinda plays defense. If that makes sense. The Twins are so wierd and crazy no one would really bat an eye I think? The bigger problem would be the dragons reactions, because the difference in their behavior is such a drastic change. I mean, both Meatlug and BarfnBelch are really quite agressive in the first movie. Although BnB kinda played with their food when we got introduced in the ring, so maybe they could convince them its some sort of game..? But meatlug… yea I don’t know how thats gonna work, because she does like a complete 360 in terms of behavior, there is no way they could hide that. Then there is the biggest concern, atleast for Hiccup I think. That Astrid would end up hurting one of the dragons. So I think the teens would have to switch up their games to pacify the dragons BEFORE Astrid could possibly hurt them. But that in turn would draw a shitload of suspicion from Astrid and Gobber. Now I think that in Gobbers case this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, I think it would even help to convince him if he sees the actual results of it. He’s also relatively open minded, though he might hold a slight grudge considering he lost 2 limbs to a dragon. Idk, though, I don’t think he’d be as hard as Astrid to convince atleast. And speaking of Astrid… yea that’s a hard one 😅.

Also considering just how much time Hiccup will have to spend in the forge, I don’t think Gobber will fail to notice. And that’s not even talking straight behavioral changes, because Gobber would probably notice that too, atleast a little. Now I do think Gobber would, and rightfully so, be a little skeptical of his new inventions even if he did find them. But besides that, I think he would more or less leave Hiccup to his own. He’d notice, and he’d be concerned for Hiccup probably, he might want to talk about it, but I don’t think that would be in a bad way.

Urgh honestly I don’t know, it’s hard to say with Gobber. I always see him as a sort of 2nd dad for hiccup, a more communicative and actively caring dad. Hiccups shoulder to lean on when he’s struggling. Idk how you see him though, and its a very fic dependent thing, so its really hard to say how you want to portray him.

For the part of potentially freeing the dragons. Yea there isn’t really any discreet way of doing it so that Gobber or Astrid wouldn’t notice.. So at least Gobber would have to be in the know, and probably Astrid aswell. The idea of going out and coming back to train with them during the night is quite risky… but it might work. Like you said though, might not be very productive… lmao

Now time frame for ALL of this is vage at best, Hiccup has a shitload to do and not a whole lot of time to do it. And considering what is first plan is of training stormfly, make gear and defeat RedDeath. Yea… his plans are gonna be constantly changing. In the movies its already very unclear what the timeframe is for the trip to the nest, but I think that Stoicks trip to Helheims gate should indeed be around 2-3 weeks. Now it doesn’t seem like it in the movies, but considering how they all talk about it, and they’re worried about the ice setting in I don’t think that is unreasonable. But tbf that’s entirely up to you, creative licensing and all that I guess :)

I feel like these ramblings are even less coherent than my last ones, heh whoops.

Thank you again for responding and taking the time to write out some of your thoughts and ideas, I really enjoy this. Honestly this whole concept and story is so intriguing, and everytime you respond with more thoughts and stuff it’s just throwing oil onto the fire.

HTTYD Fan Fic Idea

A Time-Travel Not! Fix-It

Uh, basically (I don’t know the cause but SOMEHOW) post-RTTE but pre-Drago Hiccup wakes up 3-4 years in the past in his 15 year-old body about a week before the day he shot down Toothless.

Cue in panicked attempts to figure out how that even HAPPENED and Hiccup trying to find a way back to his own time, while also knowing the raid that caused him and Toothless to meet and changed his life is fast approaching and “what if I can’t find a way back to my own time, what if I’m stuck here and what if I never see Toothless again if I don’t shoot him down like last time, I don’t want to hurt him, what if something WORSE HAPPENS TO HIM IF I DONT–“

And then he shoots the bola, afraid of the result, regardless of which one it ends up being.

And he misses.

And now he’s stuck without Toothless and trying to figure out how to fight the Red Death without his bud but also without putting anyone else in unnecessary danger, meaning he can’t just go around training dragons because his dad will do what he did last time–

So he tries to be discreet in the beginning.

Eventually he gets caught by someone from the gang for sneaking into the dragon arena after training hours and actually walking OUT of where the DRAGONS are. (I’m like 75% sure I’m gonna go with Snotlout.)

One thing leads to another, Hiccup connects the gang with their dragons. But also they’re left wondering “Okay, but where’s your dragon? How do you know so much and yet you never fly on one of your own?”

Cue in Hiccup missing Toothless and struggling to give them even a vague explanation to the situation and them not really getting it and trying to get his spirits up and pushing him to find a new dragon partner.

I’m not sure what happens next but I want a random chance encounter between Toothless and Hiccup at some point after this. And Hiccup is just standing there, SO happy to see his best friend and missing him SO much because he know Toothless hasn’t the slightest idea who he is.

But then maybe dragon hunters come after Toothless and when Hiccup hears about it he runs to the rescue and jumps in to protect Toothless (maybe even gets a little hurt in the process, don’t we like drama in this house).

Roughly around that time he finally tells the gang that he’s technically from the future? Because “Hiccup, WHY are you so obsessed with that dragon???” I have a little snipped of him and Astrid talking some time after the reveal.

Toothless is very confused by Hiccup’s behaviour but eventually decides to trust him and when Hiccup ends up in danger instead, Toothless moves in to protect him.

And that’s how they manage to find their way to each other!

I have no idea if I want to keep going with this plot in a way that it just settles back into canon to some extent, or if I want to let Hiccup go back to his own time eventually.

I would have to figure out if I wanna make the time travel make sense first or not. XD

But if it DOES end up making sense, I can see it as like young Hiccup and older Hiccup having switched places in time until one of them finds the solution and reverses their places.

Uuuuuh… typing that out made a lot of ideas flood into my brain. Ideas that may require of me to move some plot points around.

Oh yeah, for extra angst, of course I considered the option for older Hiccup to have been post-Drago Hiccup. Because him interacting with Stoick in the past would be… yeah.

But then like, that would imply he knows about his mom and the Sanctuary, and I kinda didn’t want him to because he could just fly there, meet his mom and then the whole fic turns into him trying to help the dragons by trying to get his parents to just MEET.

… which would be an interesting fic that I wouldn’t mind reading either, but my focus here is different. XD

Also, in the case of a switch, I didn’t wanna put young Hiccup through the pain of finding out his dad is dead and he’s chief now.

…

So that was a long rant.

I guess I’m dropping this off here because as many fanfic ideas as I do have, I write them out impossibly slowly. So I just gave snippets of this thing. Not a single even half-way done chapter.

And it would be sad if this never sees the light of day, you know? I need more “Hiccup and Toothless would die for each other” centric fanfics in my life.

[quietwingsinthesky]

another fact about millie: worst hostage in the entire world because she is insufferable about it. the minute she knows you Need her for something, she is going to start pushing what she’s allowed to do and say. girl who thrives with a gun to her head because she knows you need her alive and can’t pull the trigger.

[scionshtola]

always thinking about shtola calling the wol the beacon of hope towards which all men are drawn

[jikigo]

you ever just see a post and just

. 😭

.⬅️🫀⬅️

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[sttoru]

pls pls pls 🥹 older bf! gojo fucking the attitude out of his gf

 𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru picks you up after your lecture to spend quality time with you, only to realise you got an attitude that needs some fixing.

tags. dom older bf!gojo x female reader. smut, pwp but also with plot. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). rough. hints of degradation. p in v -> unprotected. standing doggy. semi-public. spanking. hair pulling. name calling. creampīe. nicknames ‘princess, baby’. wc: 3.2k

“mind telling me who that was, baby?” satoru asks while he fixes his sunglasses. he pushes his hair back a little, walking beside you through campus. you had just finished your study session with a boy who’s in your statistics class. your lovely boyfriend offered to pick you up and take you back home after that.

though, despite the kind gesture, you’re still visibly stressed after revising the material. your mind is occupied with all sorts of stuff you need to know before your exam on thursday.

“just a classmate,” you respond curtly, not even looking at satoru. you’re speeding ahead of him, wanting to rush home already. you nibble on your bottom lip and your brows are furrowed due to the distress, “why do you care?”

that sentence came out harsher than you had expected it to. you don’t mean to be bitchy, but you’re under too much stress at the moment. your body reacts before you can withstand it.

satoru is silent for a few seconds. he’s surprised by the tone of voice you used. he keeps on following you, however, not letting your little comment ruin the conversation. he’s there to help you, not to make you even more upset.

which is why he tries to lighten the mood.

“oh?” satoru chuckles, his dimples showing. he easily keeps up with you, his long legs carrying him around quite fast. the white haired man pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear ever so gently, “did someone upset my little princess today?”

you don’t answer him. you’re focused on your phone, hurriedly texting your friend back while speeding past all the other students. you don’t even notice how the girls are gawking at your man—whispering about how handsome he is and who he might be.

satoru doesn’t pay them any mind. his sole goal is to gain your attention back. he frowns after his question is met with silence. the clicking of his dress shoes increases as he tries to get you to stop and face him.

“c’mon,” your boyfriend sighs and stands in front of you, stopping you to an abrupt halt. he holds your wrist tenderly yet firmly, letting you know that he wants to properly communicate with you, “y’ can’t ignore me.”

you yank your hand back, your irritated attitude visible in your actions. you look up at satoru, not caring about what he thinks or wants at the moment. you just want to go home and relax. everything is overstimulating you.

“i can and i will,” you huff before stepping aside to continue your journey out of the university’s terrain. your boyfriend’s frown only deepens. you’re not the only one who’s currently getting agitated. you push past a group of students who stood in your way, “let’s just go home.”

satoru’s eyes narrow. he doesn’t get upset fast—he rarely feels any kind of anger—but right now he can feel something itching inside of his chest. he’s tried not to let the jealousy get the best of him at first, but now with all the other emotions coming into play, it’s nearly impossible to hold himself back.

satoru considers himself a fairly mature man. he’s always been one, yet when it comes to you he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t have any control over his emotions. his body and mind act on their own.

“aht aht. not so fast, little lady.”

you suddenly feel yourself being dragged to the side. satoru’s grip around your arm isn’t harsh, but it sure is enough to make you stumble along with him. you click your teeth in slight annoyance after the initial shock settles in. you know there’s no fighting it; you don’t want others to witness your little squabble.

“hey, where are we going?” you ask, a slight whine leaving your throat. you simply want to go lay in your bed and avoid everything and everyone else. your eyes are focused on the back of satoru’s head as he guides you along. he doesn’t bother to face nor answer you.

you sigh and simply allow yourself to be dragged away. if you’re going to get a scolding, you don’t mind. you’re just going to hear him out and nod along so you can go back home faster.

you raise an eyebrow when satoru arrives at the bathroom on the second floor. “what the—” you’re confused as to what your boyfriend is trying to achieve. you quickly look around to see if anyone has seen you.

no one seems to be close. this part of the building has always been empty around this time frame anyway.

you’re pulled into the men’s bathroom after satoru made sure that the coast was clear. he gently pushes you into an empty stall and locks the door. “satoru, what’s up with you?” you sigh as you stumble back against the bathroom wall. it’s a hypocritical comment considering your own nasty attitude.

you try to push him aside, only for your boyfriend to force your arms around his neck, pulling you flush against him. your eyes lock into his and that’s when you notice how . . dark they are. the usual playful look is nowhere to be found.

“i’m just thinkin’ that y’r attitude needs some fixing, hm?” satoru whispers. a ghost of a smirk appears on his face—it’s a twisted one. wicked, with the thoughts of what he’ll do to punish you for your actions. he rarely has that expression when he’s with you.

he tips your chin up with quite some force, “i can help with that.”

everything else happens at a blink of an eye. one of satoru’s large hands slithers up your back to tangle in your hair and yank it back, exposing the column of your throat for his hickeys to take shape on. his other hand swiftly makes work of your pants and undergarments.

his jaw is clenched—the usual hint of gentle love in his eyes is replaced by lust fuelled by jealousy and frustration. satoru is not playing around either. instead of taking his time like he usually does when it comes to intimacy, he’s quick to discard both your clothing.

“fuckin’ tease,” the white-haired man mutters under his breath, panting with desire. he zips down his pants and frees his big cock from his boxers. “always pushing my buttons. isn’t that right, baby?”

satoru lets out a breathy, mocking chuckle. he fists the shaft slowly while his blue eyes roam over your body caged against him and the wall, “but i guess tha’s part of the reason why i love you—hah.”

you’re basically in shock at the sudden switch. your jaw is slack and your eyes are wide, but there’s an undeniable feeling in your chest that tells you you’re loving this change. you can’t deny the fact that you’re turned on. extremely turned on.

“‘toru, i don’t think it’s smart to do this here,” you murmur in a small voice. you’re trying to have some dignity, even now, when your panties are soaked and the scent of your obvious arousal is driving your man crazy.

“don’t care,” satoru shakes his head with a smug grin. his long fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear before flimsily tugging them down to your ankles. his eyes darken the second he sees the webs of sticky, translucent slick clinging from your panties to your puffy folds.

he grunts, his cock twitching painfully in his hand. he’s thinking of simply jerking off to the sight of you in front of him, but he decided otherwise. satoru smacks your clit with his fat tip, “should’ve thought about that before catchin’ an attitude with me.”

suddenly, he turns you around so you’re facing the wall. your nails dig into the flat surface of the tiles, catching onto nothing. you’re hoping that no one will walk into the bathroom. last thing you need is everyone knowing that you were getting your back blown out by your boyfriend on campus.

not that satoru would mind those rumors. it’d only fuel his (already) huge ego.

“oh, yeah— shit. you need this ‘s much as i do,” satoru groans as sinks his cock into your pussy, agonisingly slow, inch by inch. you shudder and hold in your moans as your velvety walls make part for him.

his hands spread your pert asscheeks, smacking the full globes before kneading them to soothe the pain. he continues in a low, dangerous voice, “you wouldn’t be so stuck up if y’ didn’t need this fuckin’ dick to shut you up.”

satoru doesn’t stop pushing in until his heavy balls are resting snugly against your bottom, warming his sack full of cum that’s aching to be released in your dripping cunt.

“ngh, ‘toru,” you bite your lip and try not to orgasm just from the feeling of being full— so full of cock that it makes you see stars, “just like that.”

the white-haired man responds with a satisfied grunt, sweat forming on his forehead from how hot and wet it is inside of you.

“oh, there she is,” satoru coos once he hears your whiny voice, that sweet voice he cherishes and loves. it isn’t cold nor avoidant anymore like before and that’s really all he wanted to acquire. he licks a stripe from the tip of your ear to the lobe, voice husky, “there’s the girlfriend i know. moan some more f’ me.”

you shiver as satoru’s lips connect with the back of your neck. after wetting the skin with his saliva, he bites. not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave a mark. you clamp around his dick in response and he curses under his breath.

“please, fuck me,” you breathe. you need more stimulation, need him to absolutely ruin you. the shallow and slow thrusts he’s giving are nothing but torturous.

satoru grins and rests his chin on top of your shoulder, large hands rubbing around your hips and lower abdomen, teasing your clit every now and then to get you even more pent up.

“fuck you?” he tilts his head, as if contemplating. he clicks his tongue and gives your ass a firm slap that nearly sends you over the edge. “hah, you should be grateful for what i’m givin’ you.”

but satoru’s weak for you. even if he’s trying to be the ‘mean’ and ‘cold’ dominant guy. his cock is aching to plunge in and out of your wet hole, to see you come undone and feel your juices coat his balls and thighs.

“fine. i’ll fuck you,” satoru relents with a roll of his eyes, acting like he isn’t desperate for you too. he grips your hips in a bruising manner and bites your shoulder, “—fuck you like the brat you are.”

your hands save your face from making contact with the wall as your body suddenly jostles back and forth in a speed you can’t even process.

“satoru!” you nearly scream his name out of pure surprise. the pleasure comes crashing down in waves, your pussy uncontrollably spasming around his girthy cock.

satoru grumbles something incoherent as he pistons his hips, ramming in your sloppy cunt while his eyes are fixated on your bouncing ass. white locks of hair stick to his forehead as he splits you open on his dick.

“so pretty,” the older man sighs. he turns your head sideways so you can look him in the eyes while he fucks you silly. he caresses your cheek gently, a contrast to the mocking grin on his lips and the rough thrusts against your ass, “too bad y’ got such a potty mouth on you.”

satoru pushes his index and middle finger between your lips to muffle your noises, “…but don’t worry, i’ll fix that for you. gladly.”

you eagerly suck on them between quick gasps of air, saliva trickling down his hand. your boyfriend redoubles his efforts, the fat tip of his dick hitting that special spot deep inside you.

his free hand reaches down to circle your clit. the double stimulation sends you into a state of pure bliss. your pupils are dilated as you struggle to find satoru’s gaze, head lolling back and forth with each powerful stroke.

perhaps this really was all you needed to help destress and forget all about your responsibilities. it feels good to not think about anything at all— your head empty except for the feeling of your cunt being filled.

satoru’s cock twitches inside of you with the urge to release a load in your womb. “give me it, please,” your voice is muffled as you plead with him. your hand sneaks downwards, trying to find his balls, “w-want your cum.”

your fingers toy with his sack once you find it. his pre-cum and your own juices now coat your skin as well, your hand enclosing around his balls, massaging them. it’s like you’re trying to coax his potent semen out of them and that alone makes satoru throw his head back in ecstasy.

“little cumslut. . .” satoru growls, brows furrowing as he tries not to shoot his cum inside of your greedy cunt right that second. the hand that was keeping you quiet quickly snatches your wrist and pins it against the bathroom wall.

“are you that desperate to get filled? yeah?” your boyfriend huffs, not stopping to catch his breath at all. his hips pound faster against your ass with renewed passion.

your lips are parted and they move, but not a single answer comes out of your mouth. you’re unable to think or talk because of the pleasure.

satoru takes that as a yes. the erotic sight of you being so lost in sin is enough to fuel his desire to fuck you harder. his hips never falter as he scoffs at your pathetic self, “tch, so addicted to my cock y’ can’t even answer me.”

you shake your head and search for your words. however, you fail, and all that you’re capable of communicating is what you need, “fuuuuck, yes i am—‘toru, need your cock ‘n cum— more.”

satoru lets go of your wrist to grab your jaw. he forces your head back again before he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. his tongue plunders inside your mouth, exploring every inch.

he pulls back to gasp for air and releases your jaw with a slight shove to grab your hips again. “more? hah,” the white-haired man lets out a haughty chuckle. he gives a particular hard thrust against your butt, tip kissing your cervix painfully yet deliciously, “y’ think you deserve more after that shit you pulled?”

satoru yanks your head back by your hair. the stinging sensation makes your scalp itchy, but it also increases your pleasure. he lowers his lips to your ear, his voice dangerously low, “nah, you gotta make this work.”

you could. you can make it work and that’s the truth. he could fuck you with just his tip and you’d be able to cum a couple times in a row.

jolts of pleasure run down your spine as satoru drives into you harder, the force of his thrusts rocking your entire body. you’re seeing stars and the words roll off your tongue, “please, mhh, almost there!”

satoru groans. he can feel the delicious fluttering of your cunt around his cock, the telltale signs of an orgasm building. he has half a mind to pull out completely and let you writhe and beg him some more.

he contemplates it for a few seconds. the second your eyes start to roll back, signaling your impending climax, his cock slips out of your pussy. you whine and push your hips back in search for his dick- to fill the void he left.

satoru jerks himself off at the pitiful sight. he rubs his veiny shaft between your slick folds before slapping the tip against your cunt, letting it catch onto your entrance for a few times.

“begging like that isn’t going to get you anywhere. y’ can do better,” your boyfriend encourages in a sultry tone. one of his hands rest on your tummy, fingers splaying over your clothed skin. another filthy smack of his tip against your slit makes you shiver, “come on.”

you bite your lip out of frustration. you arch your back each time the fat head of his cock catches onto your gaping hole, hoping to slip it in, but you can't. you tilt your head back and lock eyes with satoru close up behind you.

“please let me cum, 'toru. i'll be good, i promise,” you beg with a lewd pleading expression. one that make satoru's balls tighten with the urge to cum as well.

with a low groan, satoru snaps his hips forward, burying his dick inside of you once more, “there ya go. good girl, knew y’ had it in you.”

the praise and familiar feeling of his dick stretching you open is enough to push you over the edge. you nearly black out as your cunt spasms around him, your juices gushing out to coat his length and balls.

satoru grits his teeth once he feels your tight cunt clench viciously around his throbbing cock. your orgasm has a domino effect on your lover, causing him to hastily chase his own release. “shit! take it, princess. take it all inside this greedy fuckin' cunt,” he hisses and grinds his pelvis against the fat of your ass.

satoru buries himself to the hilt before his cock jerks and pulses, emptying his balls deep inside of you. his fingers dig into the meat of your butt, holding you in place as he grinds against you, making sure every last drop of his seed is nestled into your waiting womb.

“there y’ go, mhm—taking my load so deep,” your lover sighs and lowers his head, resting against your back. he hugs you tightly to his chest while you both catch your breath. he rides out his orgasm slowly, still grinding against you while he leaves lazy kisses on your nape.

a minute passes before you've regained your composure, somewhat. you smile as satoru kisses your temple lovingly, praising you for taking him so well. the switch back to his usual gentleman personality is much needed after such an intense moment.

“thank you, babe. i needed that,” you giggle as you rest back against his chest. thick, pearly globs of cum escape your pussy, dripping around his cock and onto your thighs, but neither of you could care less. the clean up is a problem for later.

satoru chuckles back at you as he leaves another loving kiss against your cheek. “i knew you did,” he murmurs and pets your head, “my poor girl has been working so hard on her assignments, hm? poor, poor baby.”

you playfully roll your eyes at the overexaggerated concern in your lover's voice, however you appreciate it.

satoru doesn't bother to pull out. first things first; he needs to get you all comfortable again and give you the aftercare you deserve. his hands massage your hips as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, acting all lovey-dovey like he hasn't just shown you a more dominant side of him.

“how ‘bout we go home and order some food? we can cuddle and watch a movie together, ‘kay? i’ll take care of you, princess.”

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao

I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?

Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.

I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x

a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.

“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”

You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”

Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”

Oh. My. God!

You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him. 

Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”

He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned. 

Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out. 

But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much.  “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”

You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling. 

The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing. 

The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much. 

None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted. 

You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be. 

You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!

Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover. 

The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”

It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark. 

You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack. 

Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.” 

“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you. 

Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified. 

“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do. 

There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”

You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up. 

Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you. 

But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”

“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her. 

She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”

She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both. 

You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it. 

“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through. 

You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground. 

Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat. 

You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest. 

You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand. 

You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look. 

You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast. 

But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings. 

It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped. 

Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott. 

He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at. 

Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black. 

When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you. 

You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”

Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple. 

The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage. 

Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged. 

She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?” 

She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”

The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you. 

You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”

Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”

You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation. 

“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant. 

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”

“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time. 

Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice. 

“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”

“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott. 

Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most. 

So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand. 

“What’re you doing?”

You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens. 

He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior. 

“I think that’d be best.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated. 

You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him. 

What the fuck?

It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him. 

He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you. 

Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire. 

And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams. 

He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead. 

He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you. 

He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess. 

Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off. 

Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense. 

Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal. 

You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag. 

But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you. 

You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip. 

You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you. 

You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known. 

“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”

It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?

Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions. 

“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him. 

“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad. 

But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern. 

Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”

If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.

“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue. 

He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room. 

“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off. 

The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”

He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”

You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby. 

Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”

“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another. 

Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up. 

“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”

He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought. 

It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”

“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all. 

The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest. 

You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to. 

You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her. 

You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him. 

You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you. 

You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him. 

Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him. 

It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long. 

It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again. 

“Has he made much progress yet?”

Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire. 

His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated. 

That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes. 

He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye. 

You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”

You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”

“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you. 

There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow. 

You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”

Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position. 

“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt. 

He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared. 

He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at. 

Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”

Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”

She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”

As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever. 

You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor. 

You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain. 

You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere. 

You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”

Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”

You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”

He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”

His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had. 

“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”

You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”

“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea. 

“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said. 

His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love. 

You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him. 

“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up. 

“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him. 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order. 

You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 

That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants. 

You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him. 

Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips. 

You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”

You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”

He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”

You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you. 

He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass. 

a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl ♡ 

[cheriecoke]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

[anxi04]

tim is on the thinnest ice for becoming a supervillain. the gotham rogues don’t know just how thin it is but they are well aware that out of all the bats (yes even the red hood, yk the crime lord) red robin is the one most likely to end up joining their rogue status.

most of the batfam are not aware of this, except for bruce, cass, damian, and jason.

cass knows just from watching him cause of course she does. she also found one of his Completely Normal And Not At All Supervillain-y Plans. she has him tell her the plans so he’s not spending weeks fleshing them out and it’s more like ranting to her. she does however keep an eye on him during his bad days cause some of those plans were concerning

damian was about to kill someone (very deserved, and also very early on in his career) and tim just drops down in front of him so damian is obviously thinking “oh shit he’s gonna tell them and i’ll be cast out of the family and oh god-“ and he just. “want me to help hide it or do you got it?” damian just blinks cause what. he thought tim was gonna be the most strict on the no kill rule

tim actually deliberately let jason know cause he pissed him off once (interrupted his nap). all he did was take over jason’s gang for a week, made it seem like he was red hood without jason knowing what was going on, make it better, and then insult jason and tell him how he could’ve done it EVEN BETTER but he just didn’t feel up to it. jason has both a newfound respect and fear of tim. he’s also a little salty about just how good tim ran his gang but that’s between him and the gods

bruce knows cause one time during tim as robin he rold bruce “if you kill anyone i WILL become a villain and you are NOT prepared.” and then forced bruce to go to sleep. bruce honestly isn’t 100% sure if that was a hallucination or not but he’s leaning to not. he also just doesn’t know what he can do about it cause that kid made him eat, sleep, shower, and take proper care of himself what’s he gonna do? bench him? bench the kid who benches batman once???

steph also learns but that’s cause she stumbled upon him literally about to take that step and instead of doing anything about it just called him edgy and that was enough to shock him back. she’s not gonna become one with tim but she jokes about them having a batman and catwoman relationship and that alone is keeping him from actually doing so