#him starting to comfort others the way he knows he's comforted the most...

[multipleoccupancy]

Theo chuckled again as she pointed out that Bill had been her age, though he was actually very pleased to hear it confirmed and was still grateful to his counterpart for scaring him off. Who knows what could have happened since she had been there for six months! Fortunately they had decided to cross a monster and cultist infested country on horse back instead... somehow that still felt better. Theo ran a finger on his unburned upper lip, he usually made sure to shave though sometimes he forgot but he knew he couldn't grow a full moustache either. A move reminiscent of his cowboy counterpart who would frequently smooth down his facial hair.

"Ah well there you go, see," he smiled, "he must have liked you." It seemed gentler than a lecture and he felt at comfortable that the other Theo would protect her if she ever went back. From Bill that was! And most other things from what she had told him about him. "But you don't let any boy get away with only starting out that way, you keep them in check." She'd said she wasn't looking to dating which had brought him some relief but she was a teenager and he knew how that might change.

"Maybe," he said of her counterpart, "but by the sounds of it the other Theo probably won't stand for that for long."

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Another burst of laughter left her lips as she shook her head. Not a mustache! Violet was too young to find these sorts of things appealing in a boy. "He was my age, you know," she pointed out playfully, nudging him right back, "I don't think he could have grown a mustache, even if he'd wanted to." Well, to be fair, Violet didn't know Bill's exact age, but he couldn't have been much older than her.

She blushed. "I guess maybe he did," she conceded, "he approached me in the general store and offered to help. I hadn't even noticed him at first, I was too focused on my grocery list." Bit Bill had admittedly quickly managed to grab her attention.

"I wonder if he's gone to talk to my counterpart by now, thinkin' that she's me." Her smile faltered a little bit at the thought. Was she jealous? No. No, right? She didn't know, not really. But well, it was the first time she had paid any attention to a boy, and it was weird to think that he might be courting her counterpart.

[fatuismooches]

Dottore and his segments get a taste of their own medicine after giving you a job of your own. (In other words, you ignore their need for attention in favor of your work, they get pouty, just like you did.)

As of late, a peculiar sight had made its way into the lab. Actually, peculiar wasn't even strong enough of a word for the agents to use. They had nearly tripped over their feet once they saw the new area of their working quarters in the lab.

In addition to their Lord Harbinger's desk (that was shared amongst the segments depending on the day), there was now another desk on the opposite side of the room, and the cute decorations on it were quite noticeable. Photo frames and stationery. A comfortable and plush chair with a blanket that dropped over it.

... A plushie version of the Harbinger that laid on Dottore's desk, commissioned by you to motivate him.

(A side thought - the number of desks the Doctor had was something to wonder about. One in the lab, one in the office, one in the bedroom - no wonder things were always scattered around the place. But that was something for another day...)

And most importantly, you, Dottore's spouse, standing next to their Lord, rocking back on your heels nervously as he introduced you as their new co-worker.

—

It all began when you approached your husband with a very simple request.

"Dottie, I want a job!" You said with enthusiasm, smile as wide and proud as ever. The scientist paused his work and turned to look at you with a blank expression.

"... A job, you say?" You only puffed your chest out more at his confirmation.

"Yes, a job. I mean, being your lover is already a lot of work for my poor back, but I want to actually work with you! With your research and stuff, like the old days!" Your excitement was completely serious and were it not for your health, it would have been infectious for the scholar. Rarely did he ever meet anyone who was truly interested in his work. But of course, certain restrictions have held you back for a long time now.

"We've already been over this. My work is too dangerous for you," the Doctor sighed as he turned back around to continue whatever he was doing.

"I know, I know, but I meant other kinds of stuff. I've been thinking like... a desk job! It doesn't have to be anything dangerous! I could... sort papers for you? Oh, and you have one of those fancy stamps, right? I could stamp them too! I could rewrite your notes... ah, and the best part - I could help you write reports too! You always liked my essays, didn't you?" You were doing your best to provide Dottore with a convincing case, snuggling up against his firm back. Only another sigh escaped your husband, not really that convinced.

"Come on..." you inhaled his familiar scent, tinged with that laboratory smell that never seemed to go away, but somehow brought comfort to you. "I've been so bored lately... and lonely," you muttered the last part pointedly. "I just want some work to take my mind off things!"

Indeed, there was always limited entertainment and pastimes to occupy yourself with. It was especially boring on days you couldn't get out of bed, or when no segment could afford you attention...

"And you know what, I could give those agents of yours some writing tips, too!"

Yes, there had been many times his employees were not up to his standards, despite how many of them fawned over him (for some odd reason)...

"And I'll be helping you too! It's good for everyone."

Of course, you always felt rather good about yourself if you managed to help him, being the Second Harbinger and all...

"I suppose I shall give it some thought-" Before the man could finish his sentence you started squeezing him tightly while hopping in delight.

"Oh, thank you! So, when do I start? Do I get one of your huge desks too?"

"I didn't say yes yet, darling."

"Shh... we both know what you mean!"

—

And that was how you now clocked in at "work" every day with the agents (later than normal, but you had special privileges.) It was daunting at first for the poor souls, even the ones who secretly admired you from afar (being in the fan club and all.) Even though initially you were merely sorting papers, you were the most important person in that room.

However, soon enough, going to work in this dreary lab became a lot more cheery thanks to your sweet demeanor. Somehow, the atmosphere had become a lot less tense since the last time the segments visited.

The agents had little to no problem speaking to you like a normal person, after you had graciously given them tips on impressing the Harbinger.

"Psst..." you were hovering behind an unsuspecting agent, reading the report she had for Dottore, who jumped at your whisper. "You know, he might click his tongue if you give him that." Although her mask covered her face, you could see that half surprised at how you popped out of nowhere, and half agreeing with your words. Perhaps she felt comfortable enough to spill the situation to you.

"I-I am well aware of that," she deeply sighed, "but no matter what I write, my Lord always seems to be unsatisfied..." You patted her shoulder in sympathy. Having worked with Dottore since the Akademiya days, you knew very well of his distaste for certain things.

"Well, that's why I was hired, friend! To make his and your life easier! See, look here, that's a no-no, he wouldn't appreciate those details, mhm, but this needs to be elaborated on more, uh huh..." Of course, being the good spouse and employee you were, the report was converted into the best one that had ever landed on the Doctor's desk.

On your lunch break, they provided you with some juicy gossip about anything they could get their hands on (the fan club had long reaches, apparently.) Frequently you had to debunk things about Dottore... (the handbook was swiftly revised.)

Needless to say, things seemed to be going well. You looked happier. Motivated. Having new "friends" as your company (that still watched their mouth around you after a single glance from the segments.)

However... an issue arose after a while. One that seemed entirely stupid and impossible.

Now that you were so caught up in your work, when the segments finally had some spare time to come to you, they were... rejected. Yes, they had come to you, fully expecting your devoted attention and kisses that you always gave them without hesitation, but now turned away. (Even more embarrassing, sometimes in front of the agents who kept their eyes glued to their strange chemicals.)

—

It was Omega, of all segments, who was turned away first. The most confident and charming of the bunch left uncharacteristically silent. He had come up behind you and traced his hands against your neck, always being the one who had no shame in touching you. You only softly giggled at the sensation and caught his hand in yours.

"It seems you've been busy for a while, dear." In truth, it was mostly you seeking him out and not vice versa, but the segment hadn't seen you invading his office in a while. The space had gotten too quiet without you.

"Mhm! But I can't imagine how much work you do. My desk is nowhere as cluttered as yours," you smiled as you felt the segment kiss your lashes.

"What do you say to a break with me?" Omega offered, already knowing what your eager response would be.

"Nah, I can't right now."

...

Your words took a few seconds to process through his head.

"Pardon?"

"I have all this work, 'Mega, and other people need my help," you shrugged your shoulders as you swung your legs. "But don't worry. I'm sure we can spend some time later!" You kissed him on the cheek and pulled your chair in before continuing your work.

Omega, the greatest segment, was reduced to a blankly staring man who had been deprived of his lover's attention for the first time.

He was irritable for the rest of the day.

—

Beta was next, the poor thing.

You were always the one he blew off steam to, always willing to listen about his gripes and complaints, offering him consolation in the form of kisses and soft words.

However, you hadn't come to visit in so long, the segment was all pent up and now the agents were beginning to fall victim to him.

Fine then - he'd seek you out. Not because he needed you or missed you or anything of the sort. You were just... halting his progress with the lack of your presence. Yes, that was it.

And so the scientist, donning his grand pink bow tie, swung by your desk.

"So this is where you've been? How boring." Beta was not a segment that you'd want to do paperwork. He much preferred to be hands-on.

"Ah, Beta!" You brightened in delight at seeing one of your lovers. "I missed you!" At least you were always honest about your feelings.

... But to cut a long story short, Beta faced the same conundrum that Omega did.

Someone got turned into a floating Ruin Machine that day.

—

By now all the segments had experienced being turned away from work. Alpha's signature scowl had become permanent. Zandy was pouting the whole day as he missed his parent. Foxttore kept to himself with a pathetic sopping wet eye. His segments were fighting with each other inside his mind, a great nuisance.

All because you were too absorbed with your work to pay them any attention.

... The Doctor was now realizing that it sounded like a very familiar tune sung by you. So this was what you felt for days on end? Now, it was easier for him to understand why you were always upset if you were ignored too much.

Still, it was mortifyingly embarrassing that his segments were reduced to this pitiful state just because you rejected cuddles a few times. Regardless, it was up to him to solve the issue. After all... he missed you too. He wanted you to be around him more often again.

And so the Doctor made his way to his beloved.

There you were, all cozy on your seat as you sorted through some papers. Really, he had no clue you'd be this productive, to be honest. At least it was proof that your health hadn't gotten worse, considering how well you were handling this.

"Aren't you the one who kept saying to take breaks?" His voice made you jump a bit, having not heard him walk up.

"It's you, Dottie! I was wondering when you'd come around. And of course, I take breaks, Dottore. I have lunch with the other agents!" Ah, another party that's been hogging your attention.

"You know, this job has been pretty fun, Dottore! Everyone's real nice, we make jokes, I get to write about interesting things..." You continued to go on about the research and while usually he'd be intrigued by your findings, this time he had enough.

Dottore picked you up like a long cat as you squealed from the sudden grasping.

"What are you doing?!"

"You're coming with me," was his cut and dry response as he lifted you into his arms.

"B-But I have to work on the big report for Pantalone!" Dottore's eye twitched at the mention of the banker.

"Someone else can."

"But I-"

"I'm not listening to anything you say further," he plainly said as he walked with you cuddled into his chest as you gawked at him.

Could he be... jealous? A wee bit lonely? You kept your guesses to yourself as he eventually bought you back to his room and laid you on his bed, not even saying anything to you before sitting at his desk.

Did he simply miss your presence that much? You felt a bit bad neglecting your lovers that much. But to be fair, they kinda did the same... sometimes. You got up to console your silly husband, who was just a man in your hands.

"Hey... I missed you too, dear husband... but I had to make sure no one stole the title of best assistant from me!" Dottore only sighed at your foolishness.

Of course no one could ever replace you.

"I know you'd rather die than admit it... but don't worry. You're lucky I'm sensitive to your feelings," you teased as you kissed the top of his mask. "I'll pay more attention to you and the segments, before they cause another headache for you, love. You'll give me some vacation time off, right?"

You laughed at your own joke before Dottore pulled you into his lap, biting down hard on your neck.

—

"Beloved, would you care to join me in discussing your work?"

"You fool, they're obviously coming to my lab to activate a new Ruin Machine."

"But [Name] is supposed to play with me today!!"

"As if, they're far too busy to join you all with your silly games."

"You all will stress them out with this arguing. Now, why don't you join me instead for a cup of coffee instead?"

"Grr, gr gr, grr!"

It was good to be loved so deeply.

[littlelamy]

Let’s see Rafe x Kook!Reader – A bit of a girl next door vibe. Very kind and gentle. Maybe she sometimes hangs out with his friend group. Kelce, Topper, Sarah, throw in some random girls. But she and Rafe have never really spoken aside from just little small moments like ‘’Could you pass me the beer’’, shit like that. She keeps away from him most of the time in the group because she’s a bit intimidated by his reputation, not to mention she get’s a bit nervous because he’s attractive (and the feeling is mutual)………So a sleepover happens and everyone is paired of with who they want to sleep next too, which leaves her and Rafe being forced to share a bed. Cute little moments because they are both so awkward, maybe he suprises her with what a gentlemen he is etc – maybe reader wakes up to Rafe spooning her?? AHHHH

i hope you like it! ⭐️ you weren’t entirely sure how you ended up sharing a bed with rafe cameron, of all people.

it was supposed to be a low-key night with the group—a bonfire, some beers, and the usual laughs with kelce, topper, sarah and others. you’d always felt comfortable with them, floating on the outskirts of the friend group, friendly but never really diving too deep into their world. you were the one they’d joke around with, the one they’d ask to “pass the beer” or lend a hand when they wanted someone to talk to.

but rafe? he was different. you’d catch glimpses of him at the bonfires, maybe say a quick “hey” when you crossed paths, and that was it. you kept your distance. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to know him—he was gorgeous, after all, and part of you was more than a little curious—but there was just something intense about him. the wild reputation he had was no secret, and you’d heard enough stories to know he wasn’t exactly the “boy next door.”

still, it was hard not to notice him. rafe had this effortless charm, the kind that drew everyone’s attention, and it didn’t help that he was just… attractive. the kind of attractive that had you glancing away the moment his eyes met yours, feeling your cheeks heat up. you didn’t let yourself get too close—intimidated by that bad-boy edge, but also a bit too flustered by the way he could make your heart race with a single look.

so when the idea of crashing at kelce’s beach house came up and everyone started claiming spots for the night, you thought you’d be able to blend into the group as usual. but as it turned out, everyone paired off naturally. sarah grabbed her friend’s hand and headed off to one room, topper and kelce took the couches, and before you knew it, there was only one spot left: the bed in the guest room. and only one person left to share it with.

rafe.

he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched you with a slow, lazy grin. “well, looks like it’s you and me,” he said, looking almost amused. “unless you’d rather take the floor.”

you swallowed, glancing around as if another option would suddenly appear. “i, uh, guess we’re sharing.”

rafe’s grin widened, and he straightened, holding the door open for you with a slight nod. “ladies first.”

you walked in, feeling the warmth of his presence behind you, and settled on one side of the bed. the room was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt almost too loud, and you tried to ignore the flutter in your stomach as he climbed into bed beside you. he stretched out, turning his head toward you with a smirk.

“you don’t have to keep to the edge, you know,” he said, a teasing edge in his voice. “i don’t bite. not unless you’re into that, anyway.”

you laughed softly, hugging your blanket a little tighter. “i’m fine. just… not used to this.”

his gaze softened slightly, and he gave a small nod, a hint of something almost gentle flashing across his face. “yeah? what, you think i’m gonna pull some crazy shit in my sleep or something?”

you shook your head, feeling your cheeks warm under his intense gaze. “no. just… you’re a little intimidating, that’s all.”

he raised an eyebrow, his smirk shifting into something a little more curious. “me? intimidating?” he chuckled, shaking his head as he looked away. “nah. but i get it. guess i’ve got a bit of a reputation, huh?”

you let out a nervous laugh, nodding slightly. “something like that…”

the bed dipped as he shifted closer, his face just inches from yours now. “if i’m so intimidating, why’d you come around tonight?”

“i—I just wanted to hang out,” you stammered, feeling his eyes on you.

“uh-huh,” he murmured, smirking as he leaned in slightly. “i’ve seen you around, you know. thought you were just the shy one, keepin’ your distance.”

you hesitated, suddenly feeling like he was reading right through you. “it’s not that. i just… didn’t think you’d notice.”

he let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “sweetheart, i notice a lot more than you think.” there was a mischievous spark in his eyes as he settled back, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse race. “guess tonight’s as good a time as any to get to know each other.”

the tension between you was thick enough to cut, and as he shifted back to his side of the bed, your heart was still pounding. you lay there, wide awake and hyper-aware of his presence beside you, wondering how you’d ever get to sleep.

somehow, eventually, you drifted off.

in the middle of the night, you stirred, feeling a warmth wrapped around you. groggy and half-asleep, it took you a moment to realize rafe’s arm was snug around your waist, his body curled around yours, his chest pressed against your back.

your heart skipped as you took in the feeling of his strong, steady grip, his hand resting on your hip as if he’d done it a thousand times before. he was warm, his breath slow and soft against the back of your neck, and you felt your cheeks heat up, too stunned to move.

just as you were trying to process this, he murmured in his sleep, tightening his hold on you slightly. you felt his lips brush against your shoulder, his voice barely audible. “you okay?”

you could hardly believe he was awake, but you whispered back, “yeah… you?”

a low hum escaped him as he shifted closer, pulling you in with a lazy, sleepy strength. “pretty damn good,” he mumbled, his lips curving into a smile against your skin.

you bit your lip, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened. his hand was warm and steady on your waist, his thumb lazily tracing circles that sent a shiver down your spine.

“didn’t know you could be such a gentleman, rafe,” you whispered, half-teasing, half-breathless.

he chuckled, his voice low and rough, thick with sleep. “i’ve got my moments.” his thumb traced another slow circle on your hip, pulling you even closer. “you’d know that if you stopped keepin’ away from me all the time.”

the words sent a thrill through you, and you felt him adjust slightly, settling into you as if he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. you closed your eyes, letting yourself relax into his embrace, his heartbeat steady against your back.

for the first time all night, lying here in rafe’s arms, you didn’t feel a single bit of nerves.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[serendipitous-girl]

𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒈𝒏𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍

⊱✿⊰ summary: headcanons with bakugo and a black cat girl

⊱✿⊰ warnings: swearing, suggestive comments, fighting ig, idrk

⊱✿⊰ notes: i have had this request for like fifteen months lol but im finally doing it for my pookie's bday. Happy birthday ml 🫶 im posting it now so i dont forget lol

❀ he hates you at first sorry not sorry. bakugo just sees you as yet another one of those extras who happen to have an annoying tendency to fight with him. i feel like he might respect your tenacity but barely and he still hates your guts whoops

❀ on the topic of hatred, your other classmates half are jokingly shipping you and the other half are just wishing you two would stop fighting. mina is at the head of the shipping bandwagon especially after she read a book with rivals to lovers. todoroki might say he ships you guys only because he thinks it means he wants you two to get along lol

❀ your arguments would mostly be stupid shit like who rescued who, who did better on the assignment. you guys are rivals who also get into fistfights because why not.

❀ bakugo doesn't think much of your swearing problem because he's used to it by his mom. you're just another annoying person who happens to like using some naughty words all the time (him in girl form)

❀ i feel like the way you two get closer is kinda sad but also drama yay. basically mineta was being an S-class pervert and he was literally harassing you.

❀ and it made you uncomfortable so you started to fight back. bakugo doesn't find you until the aftermath, huddled in the corner of the dorm while trying to hide your tears

❀ he didn't know seeing someone cry could make his heart clench like that. But for some reason, seeing you all teary eyed and sad made him want to punch the living daylights out of whoever made you like that

❀ as awkwardly as he can, he tries to comfort you. His large hand patting your back, not saying anything since words have never been his forte. He was used to using anger to battle his sadness, he didn't know how to help someone succumb to it.

❀ you guys sit there in comfortable silence until you explain to bakugo what happened. he'd always hated the little brat but now he was wishing he had uraraka's powers so he could throw mineta into space. how was the creep still in the hero course?

❀ lets just say the nice day mineta looked more like a cranberry than a grape

❀ you guys aren't particularly close after that but he does tend to notice you more which means his respect for you goes up. you're in combat training and you beat deku? fuck yeah he likes you now. even if you don't hate deku like he does he still thought it was awesome seeing you beat the daylights out of him.

❀ the moment he realized he liked you was when he almost lost you. by now hanging out was pretty regular for the two of you, even if bakugo would rather die than admit that he sees you as a friend. and since you guys spent time together he was around for whenever you got crushes...and told him about it.

❀ most of the time he would shrug it off, especially since half of your crushes were fictional and why would he care? he's not jealous! however you started falling for a boy in class 2b which (for some reason) was a major no go for bakugo. why would you want to date a stupid extra when he was right in front of you

❀ despite what everyone says he isn't the most emotionally constipated. it takes awhile yeah but i imagine he started going to therapy during the course of the show so he started to understand what feelings went where and etc

and one thing was for certain: this feeling was love.

❀ he started being a massive asshole after that. he went right back to always arguing with you or ignoring you completely. he might understand his feelings but that doesn't mean he knows how to handle them

❀ he was so wrapped up in his angry emoness that he didn't know you had stopped talking to the boy from class 2b, forgetting him entirely. he also failed to notice the hurt looks you'd give bakugo before you snapped right back into your harsh comebacks.

❀ the reason you guys even talk it out is during a simulation where the both of you get stuck inside rubble. you were both exhausted, dehydrated, and heartbroken.

❀ you just couldn't help but ask, "why do you hate me?" which basically broke his heart into a million little pieces. he couldn't help the way he admitted to his feelings, the way he handed you his heart in hopes you'd keep it safe...and safe you did.

❀ if you two as rivals were bad you two dating is even worse. you guys are the ultimate power couple, able to tear anybody down with a few well placed sneers and snorts.

❀ everybody either loves or hates you guys. mina obviously loves you guys even if you two are constantly arguing still plus with the added of you two tag teaming one person. she loves when she manifests things.

❀ you guys still have that silly banter and with your tempers. but now you guys made up your arguments with kisses and cuddles

❀ you guys aren't allowed to get paired together for assignments because you are either bickering or making out. and aizawa is too tired to try to stop it.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[lucedilunax]

Written by a woman - L. Hughes

Songs masterlist

song: Written by a woman - Mae Muller

pairing: Luke Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Moments in Luke and his girlfriend relationship that made them realised, they are made for each other

warning: NSFW, mentions of sex (nothing graphic), swear words

words: 1.3k

note: i had so much fun writing this! hope you're enjoy it as much as i do haha

masterlist

---

She and Luke met in Michigan. Both were students searching for fun and nothing more. She had been in terrible relationships and lost all her hope to find a right man, especially during her college years. Luke was scared to open his heart because every girl was using him to get into his brothers. They were two teenagers with trust issues, terrified of another disappointment in love.

One party changed everything. She opened herself for Luke and Luke felt that she’s not gonna go for his brothers. Casual conversation turned to dates and later to relationship. They were soulmates despite coming from different environments and not sharing much of common interests. Their love can be summed up as right person, right time.

So cool but so kind

With that look in your eye

When she laid eyes on Luke, she saw the spark in his eyes. He was stoic yet cheerful. She couldn’t keep her sign out of him. He wasn’t blind. He felt her piercing eyes on him and decided to approach her. Luke was talkative and flirty. He was telling her stories to impress her, but he didn’t know that she’s already gone in him.

Luke was respectful, he hasn’t pushed his luck with her. He was way different from other guys who made her feel uncomfortable the minute, they started to talk with her. She found Luke as a very intrigue person. She wanted to know more about him. She asked him the most random questions.

After couple minutes of their conversation, she started to tell him about herself. Earlier it was all about Luke but now, she was the center of attention. She was telling him about her origins, her major and her hobbies. She thought that she might bored him. He was a popular hockey player, and she was just an ordinary girl but when she saw the sparkles in his eyes, she fell in love.

She felt so safe telling him all the stories. Luke was grateful that someone was looking at him as a person and not athlete. They spent all night on talking. He asked for her number and the next day, he asked her out. They say eyes are mirror of the soul and their eyes were showing it. Both were obsessed in each other, and they could communicate with each other just by looking into eyes.

And you ain’t scared to cry, what a rare breed

She was growing up in household where men weren’t crying. They couldn’t show their weak side. That’s why she always thought that women can cry. All her exes also never sheer a tear in front of her. She believed that they can’t show proper emotions.

For her, crying was like a release. When she was felt weak, mad, panicked or tired, she was bawling her eyes. It was helping her to settle her emotions down. She always wondered what men are doing to calm down.

When Luke picked up a shoulder injury and told her about it, he cried in front of her. For the first time, she saw a man crying. She was confused, she didn’t have a clue what to do. She froze in spot when this happened. She wanted to cheer him up, but she didn’t know what to do.

She asked him what to do and Luke told her that he just needed to release his emotions. He felt comfortable to do it next to her. She explained him why she hasn’t reacted and apologized but he laughed. He promised her that it’s normal and he’s doing this a lot of times. In that moment, she knew, he’s the one.

Your shoulders, your hands, oh you must be a man

Written by a woman

Luke was lanky. Despite being an athlete, he wasn’t muscular. This changed when he joined New Jersey Devils. He started going more and more on the gym. His shoulders and arms became wider and gained more muscles. She loved him previously but now; she loved him even more. She loved dragging her nails down his biceps.

The thing she adored the most in Luke were his hands. They were so big compared to her. His fingers were insanely long. He knew about her kink on his hands and he used it to his advantage. He always had his hand on her. When they were on a walk, he held his big hand on her lower back or were holding hands. In a car, he always placed his hand on her thigh.

Their sex life was superior. She adored when he was fucking her, and she could mark his strong shoulders, later admiring the marks on his back. He loved to make her cum just by his fingers. With her, he learned that he has a thing for choking. When he was seeing his long fingers on her throat, he was going insane.

You can be rough

But it’s never too much

She trusted Luke, especially in the bedroom. He was caring and loving while they had sex. Although, they had unwritten rule that if he’s angry, he can use her. He was always giving her heads up so she wouldn’t be surprised. The minute he stepped back into their apartment, he was all over her.

She loved this side of him. She knew Luke would never hurt her, so she was letting him to have his way with her. Most of the times, he was deepthroating her and fucking in doggy style. When she felt freaky, she was acting like a brat just to see how it’s gonna end up for her. Luke wasn’t into punishment but when she was getting on his nerves, he would spank her.

After he was done with her, his priority was aftercare. He knew how important it is to show her love and respect, after he fucked her like a whore. He was always helping her in the shower and feed her so she could get back in strength. Later, he was cuddling her in their bed and whispering sweet words thanking her for this.

All day, all night

You’re on my mind

Since she and Luke started dating, they’ve been all the thinking about each other. Back in Michigan, when the lectures were boring, they’ve been daydreaming about what another one is currently doing. He was bad texter but on her message, he was responding immediately saying that he was about to call her.

When they were forced to live for a year in different states, they had been all the time thinking about each other. She was wondering how’s Luke doing in new environment, how his life looks like and how does he feels living with his brother. He was reasoning about her classes and exams, how she’s feeling being there by herself and if she’s still wearing his clothes all day.

After her graduation, she finally moved to New Jersey, and they rented an apartment. Living together hasn’t stopped them about thinking about each other. If she was working, Luke was thinking what’s going through her head. When he was watching hockey games, she was wondering which part of the match he’s currently analyzing.

All their thoughts were spiraling about each other. She could never get bored of thinking about Luke and Luke could never get bored of thinking about her.

You got me down bad, oh you must be a man

Written by a woman

She knew she fell hard for her when all her future was going around his career. When Luke went to New Jersey, she wanted to go with him. How much he loved this idea, he knew that her education is more important. He was the one to force her to graduate university because she was ready to pack her whole life and go after him.

When she finally ended up college, she moved to New Jersey. She had better work options in Michigan, but she wanted to be closer to him. Luke felt bad that she’s sacrificing her career for him but at the same time, he was grateful to have her by his side. They were made for each other.

Luke knew she’s the one and despite their young age, he decided to propose to her. He saw a future with her and that’s all what matter for them.

---

thank you for reading💕

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 3

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of sex, non-sexual nudity

series masterlist │my masterlist

logan sleeps in your bed now. night after night you found him on the hard floor, until you couldn’t deal with the thought of him being so uncomfortable just because he wanted to be near you. so you forced him into your bed, though you’re not sure if forced is the right word to use given how willingly he slipped in next to you - as if he’d done it a million times before, as if it was normal.

he’s a walking heater - you swear there’s a fire burning under his skin, working through his veins to spread throughout his body. you naturally run cold, you always have, so cuddling up to his warmth is a luxury. even in the beginning, when you didn’t want to fall asleep in his arms for fear of what it would mean for your relationship, you would wake bundled up in his arms, safe and protected and wanted in a way that made you never want to leave the bed.

it’s nice, really nice.

and it simultaneously sucks, because you’ve started having dreams of logan, of kissing him, calling him your husband, watching him rock a baby. and you’ve had other dreams too, the ones you’re sure logan can smell on you, with his advanced senses. he’s always awake watching you when you wake up from those dreams, his body still curled against yours, hard dick pressed against you. but he never does anything.

it’s horribly endearing. he’s obviously affected but won’t leave you, knows how much comfort you’ve found in his arms. so he grits his teeth and bears it. despite being half-animal, he’s more of a gentleman than most of the men you’ve met.

and you love knowing that you affect him, knowing that your feelings for him are not completely one-sided, even if you can only be sure of the physical component. when you leave the room to start on your morning routine, he stays behind.

you can’t be certain, but you imagine him taking his dick in his hand, stroking himself to completion, hard and desperate and quick, muffling the sound of his groans with a hand pressed to his mouth.

you’re not used to being woken up like this, however. logan hovers over you, face twisted into a snarl so full of hatred it brings tears to your eyes. his claws are out and have ripped holes in the sheets and the mattress, locking you in a makeshift cage.

his eyes are glazed over, like he’s not quite present in the moment. he’s somewhere else right now, lost somewhere in his mind where you can’t reach him.

this isn’t a slow awakening where you can take time to blink the sleep from your eyes, letting them flutter shut for two more minutes to enjoy the bliss of being not-quite awake. the adrenaline hits you hard and fast, your heartbeat pounding loud in your ears.

you’re trembling, can feel it with every breath you take, shaky exhales and sharp inhales. you’re careful not to make any sudden moves, worried about what logan may do to you.

you know him, know he wouldn’t hurt you. but he doesn’t see you right now, you don’t know who or what he’s seeing in your place. but he’s never looked at you with these eyes, with this level of anger - in fact, you can’t remember a time when he’s truly been angry at you. scared, cautious, tense, maybe. but not fury like this.

“logan,” you whisper.

the sound has barely left your throat when he pulls one clawed hand away from the mattress, tearing more of it in the process, before punching his claws towards your chest. you cry out, instinctually, and that snaps him out of it.

you feel the sharp sting of his metal claws dragging over your skin as he pulls away. it’s only a scratch, and not a terribly deep one at that. you’re used to small injuries, pricking yourself in the garden or accidentally cutting your thumb while cooking or any other stupid way to draw blood to the surface of your skin.

but it’s not the pain that matters, it’s the thought that if it took him a second longer to break out of his nightmare he could have pierced your heart, killed you. 

“logan,” you ask, shaky, “are you okay?”

he’s staring at you, eyes wide and frightened, but the hatred that was there is gone. his claws retract back into his skin. he nods, slow, never breaking eye contact with you.

and then you burst into tears.

you can’t stop, your cries hysterical. logan sits on the bed, moving away from you with every cry that rakes your body, but you grab at his arms desperately, needing him. somehow, despite logan being the reason for your fear, he’s the only thing you want, your mind calling out his name like a prayer.

he hesitates to touch you at first, but you beg him with a broken “please”, and then he’s all over you, pulling you into his lap, nuzzling his face into your neck. he kisses you softly on the skin there, a habit he’s taken up that you don’t mind. you probably should mind, but you’re unable to care about that when it feels so right.

you fall asleep crying in his arms, the exhaustion pulling you under. you wake up again with the sun, logan looking haggard and pale, still holding you. it seems he didn’t fall back asleep when you had.

your throat feels raw from crying, and you can feel the tear tracks where they dried on your skin.

“what was the nightmare about?” you try to ask him.

he shakes his head, every line around his face pulled taunt, “no.”

you’d expected such an answer, something short and succinct where he refuses to lay his problems on you. still, you’d hoped he might share some information, even a sliver of his story that could help you help him.

you’re still worried about logan, but there’s not much you can do if he won’t speak to you, so you leave the bed to wash the dried tears from your face. you go on with your routine as usual, keeping a closer eye on logan, waiting for possible signs to help you uncover the mystery of whatever the fuck is happening with him.

there are none, of course - he’s very difficult to read when he wants to be.

he doesn’t touch you as much, a step further behind you than usual. but otherwise his behaviour doesn’t change too greatly. he’s still sweet and grumpy and lovely.

you teach him how to cook your favourite breakfast foods, and to your surprise, it comes naturally to him. he works by your side like he’s always been there, listening to your instructions perfectly every time. the cuts on your chest still burn slightly, but simply feeling his presence by your side makes everything better.

you’re reading a book on the couch when logan returns from hunting. he never brings anything from his hunt into the house, for which you’re grateful, but he does drag in a lot of dirt. 

you have a routine by now, or at least the bones of one. he likes it when you help him clean up after a hunt or a run in the forest, and so do you. it’s the kind of moment you imagine you’d find in a book, with a couple so deeply in love that they can hardly stand to be apart for a second.

you’re still not completely comfortable with the idea of stripping naked in front of him, but logan has no such qualms. in the bathroom, he pushes his pants and boxers down in one motion.

you blush as he steps into the shower, so unashamed of his body. there’s a wild edge to him that you notice more in moments like these, where you realise the impact of not having those human memories, the socialisation that teaches you to dislike yourself, teaches you that confidence is a negative thing, makes you vain and egotistical.

the water soaks him in an instant, flattening his cute hair tufts against his scalp and you giggle at the way he looks like a wet kitten, though less disgruntled.

he tilts his head expectantly, waiting for you. his gaze is dark and heady, intense as you pull off your shirt, leaving you in only a bra. your face warms as you take off your skirt next, watching logan’s face the entire time, the way his eyes linger on your panties for a long, long moment.

it’s not the first time you’ve undressed in front of him, but every time the effect is the same. warmth pools in your stomach, a mix of arousal and nerves. he’s intoxicating, and that’s terrifying to you.

you don’t take off your bra and panties. they feel like armour, protecting you from being fully defenceless in front of him. it’s not like he couldn’t see the full shape of you, every curve of your body, the parts that you love about yourself, that make you smile at the mirror, and those you hate. 

still, it makes you feel like the one in control - he’s completely naked and you’re not - though you know that he’s larger and stronger than you, that really he’s letting you be in control of the situation, not moving too much as you wash the blood and grime from his body. 

he cares so much about your comfort. sometimes it makes you want to cry. 

“you, now,” he grunts.

“what?”

you’re taken aback at the break in the quiet. it always shocks you a little when he speaks, his voice rough from disuse. 

“i will clean you, now,” he gestures at you and you laugh nervously, taking a step back, as far as you can until you hit the tiled wall. it’s not a very large shower, there’s not really anywhere to go.

“logan,” you whisper, heart in your throat, “no. not right now, okay? finish up your shower, i think- yeah i’m going to go now.”

you practically run out of the steam-filled bathroom, feeling like you’re going to collapse at any second. the thought of him stripping you out of your remaining clothes, unclasping your bra, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing them aside, his hands running over your body, even for something as innocent as washing you, something you’ve done with him a dozen or so times.

you’re having enough sex fantasies about him as it is, you don’t need to add more fuel to the fire. and the thing is, you want it. you want him. you want those fantasies to come to life. but you can’t help but fear that logan’s only clinging to you because you’re the one who found him when he was at his most vulnerable.

when he goes out into the world, whether that’s sometime soon or if it takes years, will he start to resent you? will he find someone better? will the soft intimacy that’s been growing between you collapse like a house of cards?

you’re in your bedroom, laying on top of the sheets, staring up at the ceiling when logan enters.

“you’re upset?” he asks, and at the tone of his voice, the pain that you hear reflected in each syllable, your head turns his way. he looks devastated, like the idea that you might be upset at him is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him in his life. you’re very certain that’s incorrect.

he looks so innocent like this, not a wild animal with claws that rip through flesh like butter, but a man, anxious and unsure and pleading. you can’t help the smile that rises to your lips. you shake your head as much as you can against the mattress and reach your arms out towards him, a wordless beckoning.

“never,” you say.

within moments he’s in your arms, hugging you tight, his face pressed into your chest. it’s nice, the solid weight of him, like a very heavy weighted blanket. minutes pass, and then logan shifts his body just enough to look up at you.

he makes eye contact with you, and in his eyes you see a raging storm. his face is blank as it often is, a mask that you can’t read, but you can feel his muscles tense as if preparing for a fight, can catch a glimpse of several different emotions in the hazel staring back at you.

he leans up, until his face is barely a centimetre away from yours, and your breath catches. you’re scared to hope, terrified, even if all signs point in one direction, so you don’t move closer but you don’t move away, eyes fluttering shut as if it’ll all become easier, as if the butterflies in your stomach will recede, if you’re not looking directly at him.

he closes the distance between you, mouth meeting yours in a chaste, soft kiss. it’s nothing like you expected from logan, feral and intense in everything he does. but he’s waiting for a response from you, scared in the way you’ve only ever seen him once, when you’d first found him in the barn.

he pulls away and you grab onto him desperately, forcing him to crash back into you. you share open-mouthed kisses, hot and urgent yet so loving. it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed about, perfect in the way little else can be, and you feel tears prickling in your eyes, a sob catching in your throat.

you’re absolutely fucked, your heart stolen by him, and you can only hope logan meets you where you are and doesn’t hurt you.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist

if your name is in white it means i couldn’t tag you for some reason. i’m very sorry :(

[ollimus-prime]

HAIIII OLLIE !!!!1!1!!!!!!1!!!!!◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ IM LOWKEY SOOOOOO EXCITED THAT YOURE WRITING FOR TRANSFORMERS ON A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT BLOG ENTIRELY MADE FOR IT!!!!1! + you already KNOW who it is — ITS YOUR BOY 😼😼 /ref

i’ve been tweaking so hard over tfone b-127 bumblebae boy bc he’s so auuuhhh — 😭😭 got me on my knees bc my type in men is so golden retriever boyfriends, BUT SPEAKING OF GOLDEN RETRIEVER BOYFRIENDS!!

i hope you don’t mind me requesting b-127 with a fem cybertronian reader who’s just his female counterpart drabble or hcs? like it’s giving yapper x yapper and golden retriever x golden retriever, no freaking doubt both fell for eachother the moment they introduced themselves and started to yap together. OK I TALK TOO MUCH, PLS TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF OLLIE!!! DRINK UP, EAT UP, SLEEP WELL AND TAKE BREAKSSSS!! Loves ya much :)

Yapper Adoration

A/N, not important: Hope you like it, Frankie. I tried my best. Also, it's Gender Neutral, not fem. Sorry! Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: N/A(unless y'all see smth I need to add)

Words: 554

Summary: B-127 finally has someone to talk to

B-127 was first introduced to you via Elita-1. She had met you during her time in waste management, your bubbly and eager-to-please personality strikingly similar to B’s own. Elita-1, knowing she had two loud and boisterous bots that needed constant attention, stuck you together in hopes that you would both get along and stop bothering everyone else. To Elita-1’s delight and slight horror, the two of you stuck together like magnets.

B-127 finally had someone who not only was willing to listen to him, but someone who actively engaged in what he said. Not to mention you had worked similar jobs, causing a bond to form from the toil of sorting garbage and the dream of doing more. You were just as positive and rambunctious as him, causing B-127 to immediately latch onto you as his new best friend.

Not that you minded, of course. You had your fair share of bots who’ve been annoyed by your endless chatter, and finding someone who was similar to you in personality and mannerism was just as freeing to you as it was to B. Neither of you were much willing to separate after your first meeting. Despite Elita’s chiding of you both moving too fast, you had started dating the kind and energetic bot.

You’re also one of the only bots B-127’s met that didn’t immediately think he was insane. Sure, you’ve joked about his ‘friends’ that he made down in sub level 50 before, but he didn’t sense a hostility in your tone like most others seem to have. You encouraged his interests and helped him find new friends, showing support he’s never truly received before.

There’s never silence when either of you are around, both of you capable of listening to the other’s prattling just as much as you converse back and forth. Having someone willing to listen to your interests and engage with them is something neither of you really realized you needed. While you were definitely more socially aware than B was, you weren’t much better at keeping friends around.

You comfort him a lot after D-16’s departure, allowing him to express his feelings in a healthy way while dealing with his quick gain and loss of friends. He leans on your positive attitude to keep his intact as well, and he’s incredibly grateful to have you. He wants to have all of his friends back, but having you to lean on after losing one so quickly makes it easier to manage.

Neither of you ever stop bragging about landing each other, the both of you getting into basic lovers quarrels over who loves the other more. Whenever you’re seen together, you’re almost always touching in some way. Whether it’s holding hands, hugging, or leaning against each other, there’s not much that can make either of you stray far enough to not be glued to the other. It’s mostly for B’s sake, as being alone for so long really had to put a strain on his mental health. Being able to hang onto you is a good reminder you’re not only real, but that you’re not going anywhere.

He’s your best friend through and through, and feels super safe with you. He wants you to know you’re his favorite person and reminds you like, every few minutes. You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

[rispwr]

Hate you - chapter 1 - J.JK

Pairings : ex! Jungkook x ex! Reader

Notes : finally here!! lowkey didn't get to my word goal:((

Genre : Ex2L, angst, slow burn, fake dating, slice of life, fluff, e2l, corporate rivals, smau, smut

Sypnosis : ‘You were always told that hating someone is the only way it doesn’t hurt but what if you can’t hate him? No matter how hard you try your heart will always find it’s way to his’

2 years after breaking up with your boyfriend of 2 years you were finally on your way to become the ceo of your family’s company your rival turns out to be your ex.

Contents/warnings :

Misunderstood break up, insecurities, mentions of self harms or mental health issues, jk is mean at the start, yelling, sensitive language or words, mentions of family trauma, corporate au, smart (both), mentions of yoongi x oc, mentions of cheating, soon to be ceo! Jk, soon to be ceo! Oc, oc is still named Y/n or {__}, corporate rivals?, fake dating, lack of communication, death of a character, mentions of suicide attempt, platonic relationships with other members

NSFW contents : specified in chapter

The question that lingers in my mind

Namjoon quickly made his way to your house, arms loaded with a tub of your favorite ice cream and a bag filled with your favorite go to alcohol or probably beer. He was your closest friend, practically a brother, and he always seemed to know how to comfort you when you needed it most. The familiar sound of his knuckles tapping against the door echoed through your silent apartment.

"Y/N! I'm hereee!" he called, his voice bright and cheerful, trying to cut through the heaviness of the moment.

"It's open! Just come in," you managed to reply, though your voice cracked, betraying the tears you had been trying to stifle. As soon as the door swung open, you felt a fresh wave of sobs building in your chest.

Namjoon rushed in, his expression shifting from playful to concerned in an instant. "What happened??" he asked, worry etched across his features as he approached your room.

You couldn't find the words, the emotions overwhelming you as you sat on the edge of your bed, crumpled tissues littering the floor around you. Instead, you just continued to cry, your heart breaking all over again.

"Do you want me to call Jungkook??" he offered, but at the mention of his name, your sobs intensified. The thought of hearing his voice was too painful, too fresh.

Namjoon paused, taking a moment to assess the situation. He knelt beside you, turning your head gently to meet his gaze. "Did you guys fight?" he asked softly, as if trying to piece together the fragments of your distress.

You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. "Worse," you finally managed to reply, voice trembling. "Joon... he fucking broke up with me. He fucking—fuck. He dumped me."

The air felt heavy with the weight of your confession, and Namjoon's eyes widened in shock. "Why?? What happened??" he pressed, his tone a mix of disbelief and concern.

"Exactly... I don't know what I did wrong," you sobbed harder, the floodgates opening. "How can he just throw away our memories like that? And he has the fucking audacity to tell me to wait for him" Your words trailed off, and you buried your face in your hands, unable to contain the wave of sorrow crashing over you.

Namjoon instinctively pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a comforting embrace. "Hey, it's okay. Just let it out," he murmured, gently rubbing your back as you tried to cool down.

After a few moments, you pulled away slightly, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "Let's go to a club later, Joon. Maybe I'll find someone better there," you suggested, the anger in your voice barely masking the hurt.

"No, Y/N. You are not getting knocked up or catching dirty diseases from filthy men in clubs," he replied firmly, though there was a hint of a smile at your reckless idea. "Let's just drink or hang out today, yeah?"

You considered it for a moment. "We can bring friends too if you want," he suggested, gauging your reaction.

Flashback

The moment you received Jungkook's breakup text, your heart sank. The message was blunt, cold, and devoid of any emotion—just like the man you once thought would love you forever. With shaking hands, you stared at your phone, disbelief coursing through you. After two years of shared dreams and plans, he had chosen to end things with a simple text. It felt unreal, like a cruel joke played by the universe.

You had to see him, to confront him. You couldn't let this end without hearing his voice, without understanding why. So you drove to his penthouse, each turn of the road amplifying the dread that clutched at your heart.

When you arrived, you barely registered the grandeur of his place—the sleek furniture, the breathtaking view of the city that had once felt like a backdrop to your love story. Instead, all you could think about was the weight of Jungkook's decision and the emptiness that came with it.

You stepped inside, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a memory. Your footsteps echoed in the spacious hallway as you made your way to his room. You could feel your heart racing, a mixture of anger, confusion, and sorrow bubbling up inside you.

"Y/N... I told you we're done," Jungkook's voice was strained as he stood with his back to you, facing the window. His shoulders were tense, and he seemed unwilling to meet your gaze.

"Is that really how you're going to do this? You sent me a text. A fucking text, Jungkook! You didn't tell me anything." Your voice rose, a sharp edge of frustration cutting through the pain.

He turned slightly, just enough for you to see the profile of his face, marred by uncertainty and conflict. "Y/N... I need space, alright?!" The sudden snap in his tone took you aback, his frustration spilling over.

"Space? Why?" Your voice cracked, the gravity of his words sinking in. "What did I do wrong? Was I not enough?" Each question felt like a dagger, piercing through the thin veil of composure you had left.

"Was there someone el—" Before you could finish, Jungkook stepped forward, closing the gap between you in an instant. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his lips onto yours. The kiss was desperate, consuming, as if he were trying to devour you, to erase the reality of what was happening.

You melted into him, instinctively wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Your heart raced, conflicting emotions swirling inside you. But just as quickly as it began, he pulled away, breathless and tearful.

"Jungkook... baby, please, no..." you begged, your voice trembling as the tears you had been holding back began to spill over. "Don't do this to us."

"I think it's time we take a break, Y/N." His voice was softer now, but it carried an unyielding finality. "I'll come back to you once I'm all better and perfect for you. Hm?" He brought your face up gently, forcing you to look into his eyes, those familiar brown depths that had always felt like home.

You nodded silently, your heart breaking at the thought of being apart. The weight of his words crushed you, leaving you feeling small and defeated.

Minutes passed in silence, a heavy tension settling between you. It felt as if the air had thickened, each breath becoming a struggle as you both tried to navigate the emotional turmoil that had engulfed you.

"I just... I don't understand," you finally whispered, trying to process the whirlwind of feelings. "We were happy, weren't we? What changed?"

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. "It's not that simple, Y/N. I don't want to drag you down with me. I need to figure things out... for both of us."

"But I want to help you! I want to be there for you!" you protested, tears streaming down your cheeks, mascara running down in dark streaks. "Why can't you see that?"

"Because sometimes love isn't enough," he replied, his voice strained with emotion. He stepped back, distancing himself as if he were afraid of the intensity of what was happening between you.

The moment stretched painfully, the silence growing heavier. You felt as if you were teetering on the edge of a precipice, unsure of how to step back from this chasm. You wanted to scream, to shake him and make him see reason, but all you could do was stand there, vulnerable and exposed.

"can you do something for me baby?" Jungkook said, his expression softening for a moment. "just- just wait for me. i'll be back once i'm all ready, better and fit for you. can you be okay with that baby?"

The thought of moving on without him felt unbearable. "How can you ask me that? How can you just walk away and expect me to be okay?" Your voice was barely a whisper, each word laced with sorrow.

"Because I love you," he said, and it felt like a knife to your heart. "And I don't deserve you. his is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, i'll be back once i finally deserve you."

The finality of his words hung in the air, suffocating you. It felt like the walls were closing in, and you struggled to breathe.

"I can't believe you're doing this," you murmured, feeling your heart splintering into a million pieces. "I thought we were in this together."

"Y/N... please," he said, his voice breaking slightly. He stepped closer again, his hands cupping your face. "I need you to trust me. This is what's best for both of us."

You searched his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt, any flicker of hesitation. But all you saw was resolve, and it shattered you. You couldn't fight against him anymore; it felt like trying to hold back the tide.

"Just... go," you finally said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "If this is what you want, then go. But don't expect me to be here when you come back."

With that, you turned away, feeling like a ghost in the place that had once felt like home. The silence followed you as you walked out of his room, your heart heavy with the weight of your shattered dreams.

The drive back to your penthouse was a blur. You could barely see through the tears streaming down your face, mascara staining your cheeks. Each turn felt like a reminder of what you had lost. You replayed the moments you had shared, the laughter, the plans, the way he had looked at you with such warmth. Now, it was all gone—an illusion shattered by a single text.

When you arrived at your penthouse, the familiar surroundings offered little comfort. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating you with memories that now felt tainted. You dropped your keys on the table, the sound echoing through the silence.

You collapsed onto the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if trying to hold together the pieces of your broken heart. The emptiness inside you ached, a deep, gnawing pain that refused to let go. You could feel the tears coming again, an uncontrollable wave of sorrow crashing over you.

Why couldn't he see that you were enough? That you wanted to fight for him, for the love you had built together?

2 weeks

It had been two weeks since Jungkook broke up with you—two weeks of silence that felt louder than any argument you'd ever had. Two weeks without his messages lighting up your phone, his reassuring voice calling you just to check in, or his sweet words that somehow always knew how to soothe the deepest parts of you. The absence was a void, consuming and hollow, yet sharp at the edges, cutting into you with every reminder.

You missed the little things. How he would text you "good morning" without fail, his sleepy voice leaving voicemails if he couldn't reach you. The silly pictures he'd send to make you laugh on your roughest days, and his small, unexpected gifts. They'd come in glossy packages, ribbons you'd undo with eager hands only to reveal something so extravagantly expensive you'd feel your heart swell and your voice catch, telling him he didn't have to spend so much. But he would just smile, his hand resting gently against your cheek, saying, "You deserve to be treated for what you're worth. And you're worth millions... billions. So much more than that."

No amount of words had convinced him that you didn't need all those grand gestures. It was his presence, his love, that was priceless to you. He was what you wanted, all you needed. But now, without him, even those little things he left behind seemed like they were mocking you, a painful reminder of promises unkept.

Two weeks should have been long enough to let go, to start piecing together the shattered remains of your heart. You told yourself every day that it was time to move on, to forget. But your heart betrayed you every night as you lay in bed, reaching instinctively to the other side where he used to lie. The sheets were cold now, his scent slowly fading. And with each reminder, a thousand questions echoed in your mind.

Why was it so easy for him to leave? Why did he walk away so quickly while you were still drowning in the memories he left behind?

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the ache that rose in your throat. This wasn't healthy. You couldn't go on like this, holding onto fragments of a love that no longer existed. Standing up, you made your way to your closet, determination stiffening your resolve. If he could move on so easily, then so could you.

Opening the doors, you took in the rows of clothes neatly hung, interspersed with items that weren't yours—hoodies, shirts, and jackets that he'd left behind after countless nights spent together. You reached out, fingers brushing over a worn T-shirt of his, the fabric soft and familiar beneath your touch. You could still remember the last time he'd worn it, his arms wrapped around you as you lay in his embrace, your head resting against his chest, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

But that was then. And now... now it was time to let go.

You started pulling his clothes out one by one, each article feeling heavier than the last. It was almost a ritual, each item you took out a small act of defiance, a reclaiming of the space he'd left behind. As the pile grew, so did the anger simmering within you. It bubbled up, breaking through the sadness, sharpening into something fierce and raw.

"Fuck you, Jungkook," you muttered under your breath, barely realizing that you'd spoken aloud. "For making me love you and then leaving me like this." The words tumbled out, each one laced with the bitterness that had been building up inside you.

With each piece you tossed into the box, the weight on your chest seemed to lessen just a bit. You threw in the hoodies he'd lent you on cold nights, the shirts you'd worn as pajamas, each one carrying the ghost of his touch. You wanted them out of your sight, out of your life.

Once his clothes were gone, you moved on to the other things—the little keepsakes he'd left behind. His toothbrush next to yours, his cologne bottle half-empty on the dresser, the small stack of books he'd borrowed and never returned. You swept it all into the box, each item feeling like a wound you were finally closing.

But as you finished packing everything, your hand brushed against something cold, and you froze. It was the necklace—the one he'd given you on that perfect night when he'd promised you forever. Your fingers trembled as you held it up, the delicate chain glinting in the light. You remembered how he'd clasped it around your neck, his fingers grazing your skin as he whispered, "This is my promise to you. I'm never leaving, no matter what."

The weight of his broken promise pressed down on you, and before you could stop it, the tears spilled over. You clutched the necklace tightly, the cool metal digging into your palm as you struggled to hold yourself together.

Why had he left? Why hadn't he fought for you, for the life you'd planned together? You'd given him everything, yet he'd walked away as if it meant nothing.

Your knees buckled, and you sank down onto the floor, sobs wracking your body as the pain you'd tried so hard to contain came rushing to the surface. You felt like you were drowning, lost in a sea of grief and anger and confusion. It was as if every part of you that had once been whole was now fractured, broken beyond repair.

In the midst of your tears, you fumbled for your phone, your fingers shaking as you scrolled through your contacts. Without thinking, you dialed Namjoon's number, needing the comfort of someone who understood, who could help anchor you in the storm of emotions.

The phone rang, and after a few moments, his familiar voice answered. "Yes, Y/N? Is everything okay?" His tone was warm, tinged with concern, and it only made the tears flow harder.

"Joon..." you choked out, trying to steady your breathing. "Why—why is this so hard? I just... I just wish there was something more I could hate him for. Something to make this easier, to stop myself from loving him..." Your voice broke, a fresh wave of sobs escaping as the words you'd been holding in finally spilled out.

"Oh, Y/N..." Namjoon's voice softened, filled with empathy. "He's an asshole for doing this to you, babe. You didn't deserve any of it. I'm so sorry." There was a pause, and then he added gently, "Want me to come over? I can bring some ice cream, or we can just sit and talk if you need."

For a brief moment, the thought of having him there was comforting. But you shook your head, even though he couldn't see it. "No... I'm alright. I just... I just needed to hear your voice," you murmured, the exhaustion in your voice evident.

"Okay," he said quietly, and you could hear the sadness in his tone, the frustration that he couldn't do more to help. "But if you change your mind, I'm just a call away. Promise me you'll take care of yourself?"

"Yeah..." you replied softly, the words barely more than a whisper.

Before he could say more, you ended the call, feeling a pang of guilt. Namjoon had always been there for you, a steady presence in your life, yet right now, not even his reassurance could ease the ache inside you.

You looked down at the necklace still clutched in your hand, your fingers loosening around it. It felt heavy, a tangible reminder of the promises he'd broken, the love that had once felt so real. Slowly, you unclasped it from around your neck, feeling a strange sense of finality as you placed it gently in the box, on top of everything else.

The last piece of him, gone.

flashback

Paris was like a living dream. The city's air felt soft, carrying the scent of fresh bread, blooming flowers, and that slight trace of romance found only here. Jungkook's hand held yours as you both strolled down cobblestone streets, the lights of the city casting a warm, golden glow on the world around you. It was your first anniversary, and Jungkook had insisted on making it memorable.

"The city suits you," he murmured, his eyes soft as they roamed over your face. You squeezed his hand in response, feeling so grateful to be here with him.

"It's... perfect," you breathed, taking in the architecture, the people, and, most of all, him.

That day, as you both wandered through Paris, something caught your eye in a small shop window—a necklace, delicate yet striking, in the shape of a butterfly. You stopped in front of it, drawn in by the design's subtle elegance. But you were careful not to linger too long, as you weren't one to ask for material things. Growing up, you were used to having everything handed to you without a word, and you always felt a tinge of guilt about it. It made you appreciate thoughtfulness over wealth.

Jungkook noticed the way your eyes lingered, though you quickly looked away. He smiled to himself, filing the moment away in his mind. You had no idea that he'd already decided on a plan.

That night, back in the hotel room, you were peacefully asleep after a long day. With your steady breathing as his only company, Jungkook slowly and carefully slipped out of bed, glancing at you one last time to make sure you were truly asleep. He moved quietly, slipping out the door and into the Parisian night, with a mission in mind.

Jungkook made his way back to the boutique. The shopkeeper, who was just about to close up, welcomed him with a knowing smile as he walked in.

"Changed your mind about the necklace, sir?" she asked, recognizing him.

"Yes," Jungkook replied, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I'd like it custom-made."

He explained his idea: the initials "K.Y." and "J.JK" engraved on the back, where only the two of you would know. The butterfly itself meant more to him than he could easily say; it was a symbol of transformation and new beginnings. Y/N had helped him see that change didn't have to be terrifying, that it could be a journey to something better. She was the one who had encouraged him to open his heart and embrace the unknown. In a way, she had transformed him. The necklace was not just a gift; it was his heart, crafted in gold, for her to wear close to hers.

after paying. he held the necklace in his hand, feeling a wave of excitement wash over him as he admired the initials engraved so delicately. He could already imagine your face when you'd see it, and he smiled to himself as he headed back to the hotel, hiding the box carefully before slipping back into bed beside you.

On the last night of the trip, Jungkook took your hand, guiding you to a spot near the Eiffel Tower. The sky was a rich, deep blue, and the lights of the tower illuminated everything around you, casting a golden glow that felt almost magical. You were mesmerized, feeling a sense of peace and happiness that only deepened with him beside you.

Jungkook stopped in front of you, letting go of your hand to reach into his pocket. "Close your eyes," he whispered, his voice warm.

You laughed, your heart fluttering. "What? You're not proposing or something, are you?" you joked, cheeks warming as you looked up at him.

"Not yet," he replied softly, his eyes holding a promise, "but close. I'll definitely do that one day, baby." His words sent a shiver through you, and you obeyed, closing your eyes as your heart raced.

"Okay, open your eyes," he said, a note of excitement in his voice.

You opened them, and there it was—the butterfly necklace you'd seen on the first day, resting in his open palm. "Oh my god...!" You squealed, your hands flying to your mouth. The necklace was even more beautiful up close, the delicate wings catching the light perfectly. You launched yourself at Jungkook, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "I love you! I can't believe you did this!"

Jungkook laughed, holding you close and watching the pure joy on your face. "Look at the back," he said gently, guiding the necklace to face you.

You turned it over and gasped as you read the initials, your own and his, engraved into the back. The sight of it brought tears to your eyes, the meaning behind the gesture sinking in deeply. "Oh my god, baby..." You could barely speak, your heart full.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, smiling softly. "It's a butterfly, like you, because you helped me through my fear of change. You showed me that change can be beautiful, that letting go and starting new... can lead to amazing things. You opened my heart to new beginnings, and the best beginning you gave me... was with you."

"Jungkook..." Tears brimmed in your eyes, and for a moment, all you could do was look at him, taking in every detail of the person who had become your whole world. You reached up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, then to his nose, and both his cheeks, making him giggle.

"I love you," you whispered against his cheek, "so, so much. Thank you for this—for everything."

back to present

As you closed the lid, you felt a strange sense of emptiness. The box sat there, filled with fragments of a love that had once been everything to you, and yet now, it was nothing more than a collection of memories you were desperate to forget.

For the rest of the night, you sat in silence, the weight of the loss settling over you like a heavy blanket. You wanted to hate him, to erase every trace of him from your mind. But no matter how hard you tried, his presence lingered, a haunting reminder of what you'd once had and what you'd lost.

I'll get over him, you told yourself, though the words felt hollow, as if you were trying to convince yourself of something that wasn't true. But maybe, just maybe, if you repeated it enough, one day it would be real.

3 months

The days blurred together after the breakup. Three months. For three whole months, you'd convinced yourself that this hatred for Jungkook was all you needed to numb the pain. At first, it worked, almost like a coping mechanism—every time you felt that ache in your chest, you would remind yourself of the reasons to be angry, to stay distant. But no matter how many times you reminded yourself of the anger, it was never enough to cover the emptiness, the loneliness that slowly crept in, hollowing out pieces of you.

You were isolating yourself from everyone who tried to reach you, pushing them away as if they were intruders. Namjoon had called and texted every day, and Jennie had stopped by repeatedly, but you never opened the door. Even Seokjin had come over with Sana to try and pull you out of this haze. Yet you felt too far gone. You loved Jungkook. Too much. And every time you thought of him, it felt like a fresh wound tearing open.

Then came that Thursday morning, the first rays of light slipping through your curtains, though you could barely feel them. You'd spent another night tossing and turning, haunted by memories of him. And something within you just... broke. You reached for the bottle of sleeping pills by your bedside, not thinking, just wanting the pain to fade. One pill, then two, then three, then more. You felt yourself drifting, the world becoming softer, quieter.

But the next thing you knew, you were waking up, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room. It felt like a dream, surreal and hazy, until you began to focus on the faces surrounding you—your family, looking terrified and heartbroken, Namjoon with his head in his hands, Jennie crying softly beside him, and Seokjin gripping Sana's hand tightly. And then, your gaze landed on him. Jungkook was there, his eyes red and swollen, a look of devastation etched across his face. They were all worried sick.

The night before, Namjoon had wanted to surprise you with Sana. They'd brought over your favorite snacks and movies, hoping to lift your spirits. But when they arrived, your place was silent. Namjoon had called your name, but there was no answer. That's when they found you, lying on your bed, your hand loosely clutching the bottle of pills. Sana had screamed for him, her voice trembling and desperate. "Namjoon! Call 911! Please, I beg you!" She was sobbing as she held you in her arms, trying to shake you awake, her own heart breaking with each unresponsive second. "Y/N, please... please wake up!"

Namjoon's hands had shaken as he called for help, explaining the situation to the paramedics, his own voice cracking as he fought to stay composed. They both were crying, praying as they waited for the ambulance, the moments dragging on as they feared the worst.

Now, seeing you awake, a mixture of relief and heartbreak filled the room. But the silence was thick, tension brewing as everyone grappled with what had almost happened. It was Jungkook who broke it, his voice raw, trembling with both anger and hurt.

"Y/N, are you... are you insane?" he snapped, his fists clenched, his face a mixture of anger and fear. "Do you have any idea what you almost did?"

You felt your heart clench, the pain resurfacing, sharper now in his presence. "So what, Jungkook?" you replied bitterly, your voice shaking. "Why do you even care? You didn't care about my feelings when you decided to just leave me. You left, Jungkook. You left, and now you're acting like you care?"

The words spilled out before you could stop them, each one filled with months of pain and anger that had been bottled up. Jungkook opened his mouth, about to say something, but you cut him off.

"Leave, Jungkook. Just leave."

The finality in your words hit him like a punch. He froze, staring at you, his face contorted with hurt. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the room. The door shut behind him with a loud thud that seemed to echo through the silence, leaving everyone else frozen in place, tears streaming down their faces. Jennie clung to Seokjin, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs, while Namjoon looked at you, his own face wet with tears as he fought to hold himself together.

It was only then that the weight of everything you'd put them through hit you, the reality of how close they'd come to losing you. They sat in silence, each one lost in their own thoughts, grieving for the person they'd almost lost, the pain written across their faces as they struggled to find the right words.

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[redvexillum]

Read the summary, and I was like... oh my satan's ass crackers I just - wait - uhm - HOL UP??!!?!?!?

Let’s start with that beginning—him spiriting her away in the dead of night, away from prying eyes and judgmental whispers. The secret romance? The thrill of being held by someone who’s not “approved”? UGH, my fave trope!!!!! And the way you capture Alastor’s ability to make her feel alive, like jazz running through her veins? I can feel every shivering giddy pulse that makes her forget her own discomforts. That’s the mark of truly powerful storytelling—where the character’s world fades away in the presence of the one they love.

And then, when they’re alone in the dimly lit speakeasy, and he pulls her into that desperate, passionate kiss? OH, the imagery is just absolutely delicious! The scent of tobacco and bayou earth? —it’s so visceral and distinctly Alastor! His hands on her, the way they crave every inch of each other, her leg hooked over his hip? It’s the embodiment of raw, untamed desire, and I. Am. HERE. FOR. IT. 🔥

But oh, let’s not forget the absolute gentlemanly savagery when she hesitates and he’s all, “I don’t mind.” He’s so confident, so utterly devoted to giving her pleasure and comfort, it’s like he’s made to chase her worries away. Alastor saying he isn’t afraid of a “little blood”? I’m swooning. It’s bold, it’s intimate, and it’s so real. And the way he reassures her with that line about easing her pain with pleasure—HE KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT HE’S DOING, and it’s giving us everything we could ask for!

Then, THAT moment when he licks his fingers? Holy smokes, it’s such a daring, unapologetic act, and it’s just so him. He’s practically worshipping her, and her reaction? PRICELESS. The sensuality, the fascination, the shock—it’s a perfect touch of vulnerability that makes her feel even more deeply connected to him. And as if that isn’t enough, he takes it a step further, pushing her into this thrilling mix of scandal and desire by letting the public setting amplify the risk. Every soft whisper, every forbidden touch, it’s like they’re suspended in their own private universe amid the crowded speakeasy, and it’s SO HOT I CAN BARELY HANDLE IT. 😳🔥

This entire scene captures their love, their passion, and the desire that pulls them to each other despite every risk. It's seductive, it’s rebellious, and I can’t get enough. You’ve woven this tension, love, and thrill with such a gorgeous hand, and it feels both exhilarating and tender all at once.

And don’t even get me started on the details! The imagery you created with him looking down, admiring how they’re connected, saying she’s “painting him red”—I am melting. It’s so raw and intimate, as if he’s completely entranced by her, savoring every second they have. It’s like he’s utterly obsessed with her in the best, most spine-tingling way! And the way he’s determined to keep things quiet, even as things get absolutely wild? He’s keeping up this delicate balance of control and desire, and it’s maddeningly hot.

Then there’s her tasting the salt on his neck, and Alastor’s reaction—the nips, the kisses, his shuddering breaths… You capture every glance, every soft moan, and it’s like we’re right there in the dim light, watching the world melt away around them ..... shit, does that make me a voyeur?????

AND OH, THAT ENDING! 🥵 When they finally come undone, when he’s kissing her so deeply to keep her quiet as he finishes inside her? It’s tender, intense, and dripping with love. That whispered “I love you” after everything? I’m on my knees. It’s so pure, so vulnerable, and it hits straight in the feels. The fact that he’s trying to tidy her up at the end, helping her straighten her skirt, giving her one last gentle kiss—my heart is just full.

I WOULD LIKE ONE ALASTOR PLEASE. At least the Alastor you painted in this story!

Not Afraid Of A Little Blood (Human Alastor x Reader)

CW: Public sex, period sex, vaginal fingering, licking fingers clean Rating: Adult Summary: Out at Mimzy's Speakeasy for a night on the town, Alastor finds himself feeling rather amorous and isn't swayed by your monthly condition or the public nature of the location. You find your will crumbles as he shows he's simply not a man who's afraid of a little blood.

You loved the nights when Alastor spirited you away from your family home in the late evenings, when you should already be asleep. Your family did not approve of the older man, regulating your relationship to one that existed largely in secret. 

There was no place you wanted to be but in Alastor’s arms. It felt like home. As he flung you around the dance floor, lively jazz running through your blood like electricity, the dull ache of your cramps was easy enough to ignore. 

Alastor’s hands wrapped around your waist, holding you to him as you laughed together, though you didn’t remember the joke. With him, you could forget everything. That was the magic of Alastor. He chased away every worry and demon. 

You hadn’t realized that he was chasing you or that you were fleeing from him until your back hit the wooden wall at the back of the speakeasy. Light struggled to reach the back of the room, but the music had no issue at all. Deep shadows swallowed Alastor as he leaned down, lips sealing over yours in a hungry kiss. 

He tasted you eagerly, pushing into you as he trapped you into the shadows. The scent of tobacco smoke and the earthy scent of the bayou clung to him. Strong hands gripped your hips, clinging to you, greedily running over curves. The ghost of his thumb on the underside of your breast made you gasp.

He took that chance to slip his tongue between your lips, deepening the kiss. The taste of whiskey coated your tongue, filling your senses as you clung to him. Roaming hands ran down your sides, seeking and seeking until he hooked your leg just above the knee. He pulled it up, resting your thigh against his hip. 

Greedy touches took into the feeling of your skin under his hands, roaming and exploring. Your hands slip under his jacket. Strong, lean muscles flex and bunch under your touch as you try to map the landscape that lay hidden under the cotton shirt. 

Fingers went higher and higher, chasing the soft feeling of you. Your back arched, lost in the feeling of being touched by him. 

“Alastor,” you moaned his name, clinging to him as if he would somehow keep you from drowning in the sensation of him,. 

“You’re so soft,” he whispered as his fingers caressed closer and closer to your core. 

“Wait-” The suddenness of your word, clear of the passion and lust froze his hand in place. 

“What is it?” Alastor asked. “No one can see us, I promise.” 

“It’s- It’s not that,” you whispered. “I’m… I’m on my…” 

“Oh,” Alastor said, fingers flexing into the fat of your thigh. “I don’t mind.” 

“What do you…?!” you gasp as his fingers caress higher and higher along your inner thigh, fingers finding the place where the pad was held against your body. “Alastor!” 

“I’m not afraid of a little blood,” Alastor’s voice was a warm purr as he ran his fingertip along the side of your folds. “Did you know it can make a lady’s monthly pains ease, if she’s had pleasure?”

“What?” your voice wavered, coming weak as he reached pushed the pad to the side, making use of what little slack the belt that held it in place allowed. It was a thinner pad, being early in your cycle yet, and it easily folded in on itself as he forced it to the side. 

“Let me ensure you’ve got no reason to be feeling any pains?” Alastor asked, though the question sounded far from a request. 

It sounded like he knew you’d agree. In truth, you struggled to deny Alastor anything at all. He owned your heart and soul. What harm was there in giving him your body, too?

“We can’t,” you whispered even as you ran your leg higher up his hip, opening yourself up to his hand just a little more. 

“We can,” he whispered in your ear, tongue sliding out from between his lips and running along the shell of your ear. “Do you trust me?”

Lips worked their way down your neck, leaving a trail of stinging nips soothed by soft kisses. “I do,” you said, struggling to breathe. 

Alastor wasted no time letting his fingers slip between your folds. You gasped as his fingers ran along your slit, circling over your clit. He repeated the motion again and again as your back arched, pushing your breasts into him. The dampness left from your cycle’s bleeding was quickly replaced with the slippery slick that spoke clearly of your arousal. 

“You’re so responsive,” Alastor groaned in your ear as his finger worked into your tight hole.

The moan that fell from your lips was rich but unfortunately loud, leaving Alastor the choice to either withdraw his finger from you or silence you somehow. Without any hesitation, Alastor kissed you deeply as he pushed a second finger into you, swallowing the hot sound of your desire. 

Again and again he stroked you from the inside, drawing pleasure you hardly could understand from you. The flat of his palm worked over your clit with each thrust of his hand, sparking more sensations. 

“Alastor,” you whimpered as he took control of your body.

“You sound so pretty,” he groaned as his hips flexed, pushing his hand harder into you. “I need you, cher.” 

Fingers left your core, leaving you feeling empty. It was a challenge to think too deeply about that with the way his lips moved over your skin. Soon, that feeling was gone too, leaving you no choice but to blink your eyes open. 

Alastor’s hand lingered in front of your face, fingers shiny with the slick he had worked up from within your body. Unlike all the other times he had helped himself to the warmth of your core, you could see the dark smears and streaks, thicker in some places than others, that told you your blood coated his fingers. 

“I am so sor—” your eyes went wide as Alastor brought his fingers to his lips. 

The sight of his shiny tongue slipping from between his lips stopped the flow of your words. Greedily, he ran his tongue over each digit. Each pass of his tongue was a curling caress you couldn’t look away from. 

Shamelessly, he licked his fingers clean. He seemed not bothered in the slightest by the bloody tinge to the slick. Surely he could taste it, couldn’t he? 

“You taste as good as ever,” Alastor mumbled as he pulled his fingers from his lips,

It was only then that you realized he wasn’t touching you in that moment. Just as you realized that, he was touching you again in a whole new way. 

The velvety soft skin of his cock ran up and down your slit, pushed out through the fly of his pants. You hadn’t noticed the sound of him undoing his pants, let alone the shifting he would have had to have done to free himself, too entrapped by the sight of him licking his fingers free of your bloody slick.

The music changed as the band ended one song and picked up another, reminding you that you were very much in public. 

“Alastor, put that away,” you hissed. “Someone will see.” 

“They’ll think we’re young lovers necking in the back,” he insisted, voice thick with desire. “I need to be inside of you.” 

“I’m on my cycle,” 

He cut you off. “I don’t care. I need you, need to be inside you so bad.” 

“We’re in public.” The head of his cock nudged your sensitive clit, pulling a needy whine from your throat. Alluring kisses peppered your jaw, working along your neck as he teased you. 

The touches of his cock against your folds were just light enough that he could say they were innocent, that he wasn’t trying to wear your resolve down. He just hadn’t gotten around to tucking himself away and as a result, as he kissed you, he slipped between your slick folds. Each innocent nudge and caress of his cock coated him in more bloody slick. 

You moaned into his neck as he pushed forward, the shaft of his cock running through your slick folds. Fingers dug into your thigh as he hiked your thigh up again, using you as a shield against prying eyes. 

“Alastor.” This time, his name left your lips not in protest but in a wanton moan that brought a smile to the lips that kissed your neck. 

“You want me?” he whispered, lips kissing the collum of your neck as he spoke. 

“I do,” you whined as his large hand slid forward, cupping your breasts through your beaded dress. “Fuck, Alastor. We’re going to get in so much trouble.” 

“We won’t get caught,” Alastor reached between your bodies, grabbing his shaft with one hand and lifting your hips with the other, pulling you slightly off your freet. 

The tip of his cock ran along your folds as you wrapped your leg around his, ankle resting on his calf. The delicious stretch of his cock pushing into you was all-encompassing. It was a battle to hold your head up, a battle you lost. 

Alastor’s wet tongue ran up your exposed neck, tracing the line of muscles as he inched deeper and deeper inside you. The vibration of your soft moan was the greatest treat, felt but unheard as he slowly bottomed out. 

“Hold on to me,” Alastor directed, hand digging into your thigh as he wrapped his other arm around the small of your back. 

You did as he said, running fingers through the fluffy brown hair that was oh so close to curly that topped his head. He changed the angle of your hips, letting you sink deeper down his cock before he pulled out. Your weight was nothing to him as he held you in place. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Alastor said thickly, looking down at his cock, a bridge between your body and his in the dim room. Light reflected off of his slick covered shaft, ribbons of red covering him. “So beautiful painting me red,” Alastor said, sinking slowly into you again. 

The pace was slow, more of a rocking of his hips as he stirred your insides with his cock. Deep gasping huffs of air passed between you as flushed face met flushed face. You could drown in the deep wells of love and affection you saw reflected within Alastor’s eyes. 

The feeling of his cock in you was addicting. Nothing ever made you feel as full as he did. His large hands kept you grounded as he slowly worked his length out of you only to slide right back home in one easy thrust. 

Alastor had to swallow, working to keep his throat open and wheezing breath from becoming a rich moan. Your eyes watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. It was daring you to lean forward and put your lips against it. Who were you to back down from a dare?

The salty taste of his skin coated your tongue as you placed open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin. The ghost of stubble scraped at your lips as you worked up his jaw, muffling your moans as he slowly thrust into you again and again. 

“Cher,” he groaned as you nipped at his neck, just under his jaw. “So warm.”

“So big,” you whispered back, tongue tasting the sweat that formed on his skin. “You’re so big.” 

His thrusts picked up pace, no longer the subtle rocking of hips as he worked in and out of you. The sound of the music covered the soft tump of your lower back hitting the wall he held you against. Breaths turned to airy moans as he fucked into you harder, faster. Each thrust bullied through your walls, the head of his cock reaching every part of you. 

“Feel so good,” Alastor whispered in your ear, resting his head against the wall behind you. “You’re made for me.” 

“Please, Al- I’m so close.” You buried your head in the crook of his neck, clinging to him. Nails dug into the muscles of his back, feeling each flex of his shoulders as he fucked into you faster and faster. 

“Can you-” he gasped as your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock. “Can you be quiet for me?” 

“Please, Alastor,” you whined, so close. The coil in your core wound tight and threatening to snap. “Please.” 

“You have to mind your voice,” he groaned as your walls fluttered, so close to your peak and threatening to pull him along with you. “If you want to finish, I need you to be quiet.” 

“I’ll try,” you whispered, making a promise both you and Alastor knew was a lost cause. 

It was too late for him to stop, anyway. Each thrust had you clenching and fluttering, walls pulling at him lightly as he worked his way in and out. He was chasing his own release now, pushing you closer and closer to yours. He watched as your body went ridged, only movement being the gasping breaths in your chest and your walls clamping down on him. 

Leaning forward, he sealed his mouth over yours as your body twitched and convulse. The coil within you had snapped, taking your control and resolve with it. Deep moans and high-pitched whines bubbled up from your chest as he fucked you through your orgasm, his own hot in its heels. 

Alastor swallowed every sound as his tongue worked into your mouth, caressing and exploring everything he could reach as his thrusts turned sloppy. It was his turn to moan deeply, letting you swallow the sound as he swelled and twitched. Hot white ropes of his seed shot into you, splashing your cervix and painting your walls as he rutted into you. 

His body stilled as his cock twitched against your sensitive walls. Neither of you were sure where one began and the other ended as you clung to eachother. Even as deep breaths mingled, he continued to kiss you deeply for a few moments longer before pulling away. 

“I love you,” he whispered his secret confession as his cock slipped from your hole. 

“I love you, too,” you answered, numb legs finding the ground as he let you down. You watched as he tucked himself back into his pants, zipping his fly. That did nothing to hide the smears of slick on the front of his pants. 

“You should go clean up,” Alastor said, leaning forward to straighten the skirt of your dress as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. 

You nodded, walking on trembling legs. Over your shoulder, you watched Alastor pull his shirt from his pants, letting the fabric fall over his hips. Such a thing would look sloppy, something that would drive your lover mad, but it was better than wearing the mark of your bloody slick. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

[mixingandmelting]

No, Between the Two Of Us - None of Us Are the Sane One

Summary: Childhood to lover trope feat. Dick Grayson where you were best friends with him since the start of his Robin days which was also when he first having a crush on you

Words: 2.7 k

A/N: First time posting in the DC fandom, so please be gentle with me! Also there will be a version for Jason and Tim. ; )

Being besties with Batman and the first Robin is an experience to say the least. Many fantasize how it might go, romanticizing the prospect and excitement the friendship may bring. For you? Zero out of ten, would not recommend. The public masses claimed them to be heroes, but only you and villains know how unhinged they were. You did not appreciate playing the middleman when the two gave each other the cold shoulder or being the center of their amusement. Especially with Robin. You swore on your nonexistent Aunt Patty’s grave that boy was chaotic evil, the agent of all chaos. You grew paranoid for months having been pranked by him every time he swung by so you wouldn’t do “something stupid”. Or so he said only to get you to scream at the top of your lungs whenever you were hanging around on your apartment’s roof, creeping silently towards you and whispering the most random fact he found. He would then cackle with glee and proceed to rub on the wound by reminding you how the first meeting between you three which led to the constant check-ups  (a whole, another story you rather not remember involving a much younger you and Robin, Santa Claus, and pajamas printed all over with I <3 Batman and Robin).  You tried to get back at him multiple times. You never once won. 

However, there were times when he wasn’t pranking you. Moments like those, he’d simply sit and brood next to you, waiting for you to ask what’s wrong before starting his rant about Batman. With little to no knowledge said man, himself, would visit you and ask about him a few minutes after he leaves. Yes, you did question why they thought it would be a good idea for a kid younger than themselves to mediate between their fights only to give up  when you found yourself going in circles as to why you still chose to be friends with them. Way too complicated and big of a headache for your small head. It didn’t seem like Robin cared either, as he would tell you everything on his mind, not a single thing held back. Hands being held or a head leaning on a shoulder was a must when he talks. When that tradition started you genuinely had no idea but you never thought about it. More like you can’t when you saw the expression he wore. 

What started when both of you were merely children continued on to high school, where you discovered his identity. The way you found out was disappointingly anticlimactic. After the many years you hung out with him, of course you would recognize him right away. The same gremlin laughter, the corny jokes he shared with his fellow peers. Oh, and the fact his hairstyle stayed the same as both Robin and Dick Grayson. 

Dick, on the other hand, obviously hadn’t thought through that. At all. Okay, sure, you were on the more observant side but still, you shouldn’t have been able to piece all that together within a semester. He wasn’t even at school often because of all the missions to the point the school had been frequently calling Bruce and Alfred about his many absences. There were plenty of guys who sounded, talked, and looked like him, including his height. He was careful. Shouldn’t have been a “dead give away”, whatever that meant. So when he came over to comfort you after a mission, hearing how you got stood up at the school’s dance, he wasn’t prepared for you calling him by his name. Worse, he couldn’t even play dumb or pretend to not know what you were saying. Not when you gave him the same eyes you always did that held comfort and support he always seeked, as if understanding everything he was going through. 

With the cat out of the bag, he soon had you meet Batman as Bruce Wayne. He enjoyed the mini meltdown and sense of horror you were having, realizing just who exactly you’ve been chummy with all those years. Maybe he shouldn’t have gloated how you should've treated them better when you gave a mean, actually painful jab to his ribs. Still was worth it. So was the impromptu meeting with his team, Teen Titans, when you started working part-time at the pizza place they always stopped by to eat when celebrating a mission gone well. You didn’t know how silly and adorable you were acting, not as bad when meeting Bruce, but definitely shy and frazzled from being star struck. Well, for a bit that was. An hour later, you were sitting and laughing with them about a mission that involved Condiment King. The way you smiled and brightened the room had him thinking for a moment that he had a shot. After all, you practically met everyone he considered family. It had to be a sign for him to seal the deal. 

It stopped and ended as a thought. When you all started talking about love, he didn’t know as much as how he didn’t know which hurt him more; you saying you weren’t going to be in a relationship ever or you, not friendzoned, but bro-zoned him. You don’t notice the way Wally stiffens or the worried glances Donna shot at him. Starfire voiced opposition to your decision to stay single. Raven, not knowing anything, gave you her support. He most definitely did not appreciate Gar feigning disappointment only to get snapped at for going over the line by Vic. 

He didn’t know how to act around you afterwards when he escorted you home. He knew he was making you worried,  more so when he kept telling you he was fine when you asked if you had done anything to make him uncomfortable. He wanted things to stay the same. Retain the precious relationship that led to his love for you. There was no intention to make that night his last night with you. Yet, how was he supposed to act when he found out he never had a chance from the start? As crazy as it sounded, he once even thought about you being a Grayson. Of course not in high school; when the two of you got much older. It filled him with guilt when he heard from Bruce how you were asking about his well-being. It felt like a knife was being twisted in his heart when letters you wrote were slipped between his homework whenever he had gone to school to get them, belatedly realizing he never gave you his number. All he could reply back was the same, lousy excuse of being busy with missions. 

You, on the other hand, waited, hoped, prayed that Dick would visit you again. You knew somehow it was your fault and you wanted to apologize, make things right. Every night you stood on the rooftop, doing homework or simply reading. The nights you don’t, you left his favorite candy with a note. Batman was the only one who visited you then, though his visits were becoming rare from the increase of crimes occurring all over the world. It was through him you learned about Dick’s decision to leave the state and go to some college in New York by the end of the school year. You ended up rejecting the invitation to go with him to the graduation ceremony, knowing there was no point in seeing Dick again.

So really, Dick should’ve seen it coming when he learned from Alfred that you were leaving on the day of. As if to one up him, you weren’t leaving New Jersey.  You were leaving the states. It didn’t help that he had been forced to hand over Robin’s mantle to Jason not too long after the rejection. He had to face another heartbreak, as he mourned over the Robin who first met you, the body wonder who was your best friend, was no more. He naively thought he had time. To debut and cement his role as Nightwing, leader of Teen Titans while getting himself back together, all to come back to you. It was apparent enough to know he didn’t. Finding out on the day of, his hands fumbled with the keys to his motorcycle, rushing to get to the airport on time. Despite breaking every traffic law in Gotham (which he ended up owing Babs on not getting taken to jail or paying a big ass fine), he arrived too late. He couldn’t call out to you, his eyes taking in the glimpse of your hair  through cracks of the closing gates to TSA. 

Years passed and he tried to get over you. First with Starfire, then with Babs. Zatanna, Helena, Bea, Lori, Clancy, mixing one-night stands in between. But none of them ended up working for him. None of them were you. They didn't have the same humor you had. They didn’t give him the same warm hugs you gave him without him ever having to ask because you simply knew. Hell, the whole reason for things to end with each of them was because they called him out for it. His whole team did. Even his whole family including Bruce, Steph, Duke, Tim, and Damian. He’s not going to talk about what happened with Alfred, Jason, and Cass. He still gets nightmares for what they put him through. 

As he continued failing on nurturing a permanent relationship, you found yourself frequently buying magazines or skimming on the webs on the latest news and gossip covering vigilantes and heroes during your study abroad. You had brought with you newspaper clippings you kept on the Robin you still missed and cherished. You could count the number of times Robin changed, recognizing none of them were Dick. Yet you never found the heart to ask Bruce what had happened, if he was okay. Nor would you have been able to when you left without ever getting some sort of contact information to stay in touch with him. 

Now, he’s in his early thirties and you’re in your late twenties. So much has happened during your lives but you still think of each other. All the what-ifs playing in the back of each other's minds, regret and hope constantly raging back and forth. But not once have either you met even when you came back a few days ago. 

Currently, you’re sitting on the ledge of the same roof of where everything began. Gotham glows beautifully without the stars, its artificial lights so bright it makes the city shine as much as it does in the day. Kicking your legs, you hum mindlessly enjoying the scene. That is until someone calls out your name. 

Your grip slips and you scream, nearly falling to your demise. Or about to until a warm arm quickly wraps itself around your torso and pulls you over to safety. Gently the person places you on the concrete floor, a few seconds passing afterwards as your mind registers you’re still alive. Guess they weren’t expecting you to get angry, two hands quickly in the air and sputtering apologies when you stand back up and rage why no sane person would ever scare the living daylights out of a person sitting on a roof along with profanities that could shame Deathstroke and bring pride to Red Hood. You’re panting in the end and reach towards the can of soda you had placed when you were sitting. And when you take a sip, it then hits to who you had raged on. 

He looks away, a hand covering his face from holding back the laughter that threatens to spill out when your face matches a tomato. You’re barely whispering when you apologize for the profanities, of course you aren’t going to apologize for everything else you both know you’re very much right on that part, horrified and embarrassed that you had done that to a very famous vigilante. Out goes his self-control when you go absolutely silent and start to fidget from the lack of response. He bursts at the face you make from mortification. 

“You haven’t changed one bit.”

You freeze at those words. 

“Do…I know you?”

Immediately he stops. The air turns tense, you looking at him with wariness as he slowly turns himself completely towards you. Gently, he calls out your name. When you continue to look confused, he does it again, taking a step closer and pulling off his mask. 

He can see so much denial in your shaking eyes. The desire of you wanting him to say the person standing in front of you isn’t him. He’s quick to grab both wrists and root you on spot, keen and trained eyes already noticing your feet turning to make a run for it. His grip on you is firm but soft, enduring all the words you thoughtlessly, recklessly say while tugging to get him to let go. 

Eventually you stop, acknowledging there isn’t going to be a chance again in the future for you to speak to him or him to you. In fact, you both most likely would  evade each other for the rest of life if not for now. When he’s sure that you won’t escape, slowly, he lets go and takes a step back.

“..Why?”

There’s a tremor in your voice, the area of concrete in front of your feet becoming bi-colored. You don’t scream. You don’t raise your voice. Dick can feel himself break, his throat and chest constricting, dawning on him how not once you fault him for ruining the friendship between the two of you while listening about, for the longest time, all you desired was to apologize. When you weren’t even in the wrong. Too soon your words start to mesh and trip over each other. He takes the opportunity to open his mouth. 

“I love you.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting a smile fill with bitterness and self-loath. Your heart initially refuses to accept everything he tells you, how long ago he started to have a crush on you to how it ended up turning into love. You can never relate how his love for you ruined him where all his relationships with others never lasted for long when it’s him. The gremlin child that held confidence to defy everything on Earth, the gremlin child you developed feelings for. Silence hangs in the air once he’s done. All of a sudden you’re livid. Offended. Dick doesn’t notice, going from rubbing the back of his neck to shifting his weight from one foot to the other, wanting to give you the space to soak everything in. When he finally can’t wait anymore, he rushes to think of something, even resorting to begging for your forgiveness. Not looking down at your hands that slowly reaches for his collar.

“Please, all I really want to say is that I'm sorry. I know I was a dick to you so I don’t even deserve to have chance to ask you to be f-”

It takes Dick a hot minute to realize what’s happening before melting in. His hands make their way towards yours, pulling them up and placing them on his cheeks. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss without crossing a nonexistent line that you probably aren’t ready for. It ends up being the right call when you end up breaking it, lack of oxygen in your lungs from having no experience.

“Next time, just ask instead of assuming things.” You growl, pinching the flesh on both sides of his face.

He doesn’t reply or lets you say another word, his soft and warm lips placed right back on yours where they belong. Where they should’ve been since back then. Too bad the second kiss doesn’t last longer than the first, all of sudden hearing wolf-whistles around the two of you. Everyone from the Bat family and the Titans reveal themselves on the roof, some clapping, most teasing on how long it took for you two to get together. You quickly duck your face into his chest while Dick chuckles and pulls you into a tight embrace. 

Later on, a ring adorns his and your left hand. Never once getting taken off, no matter the reason. 

[interruptedtrance]

could i request something bondage related with george??? him tying you up or him being tied up??! your stuff is great!!!!!

Bondage (george x reader)

Smut; 18+

contains: bondage, pet names (princess, good girl)

thank you anon for requesting a fic, this was my first request so i really hope you like it!

masterlist

“get on the bed princess” george mumbled while kissing along your jaw, you didn't need to be told twice, you make your way to the bed in a hurried step, while hastily ripping off your shirt and pants. “good girl” he moans, “so well trained for me” he said, moving between your legs and gently giving you a peck on the lips, not allowing you to deepen the kiss.

moving away from you, but still resting his hands on your thighs, he stops for a second, moving to grab the box from underneath the bed to pull out your nylon ropes, making you smile. “you know what's about to happen?” he questions, making you nod in return, he connects your lips again, now letting the ropes rest next to your thigh.

“i thought about the position you have shown me, the frog tie” he says in between kisses, “i think we should try it, you have been such a good girl for me and you truly deserve a reward princess” he says, making you smile from ear to ear.

“yes please daddy” you express your want for the new experience by deepening the kiss, and carefully moving to sit into his lap.

george stops you from deepening the kiss further by softly grabbing your shoulders, and gently pushing them away from him, “princess i know you are eager to try something new, but you know what we have to do before”.

you slightly sulk “i know”.

“what's our safe word?” he questions, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“t-pose”

“good girl” he rewards you by pulling you in for a kiss. “lay down for me” george gently demands, so you shuffle to the middle of the bed and lay yourself down.

“eager, aren't we?” he teases.

you whine, “maybe”, making george lightly chuckle. moving to your legs to start his work on them, gently he takes one of your legs and positions the ankle as close to your thigh as possible, and with the most care in the world he starts wrapping them together.

“lift your leg for me princess” he requests.

“but you haven't taken off my panties” you state, giving him an amused look.

“i know princess, come on leg up” so you lift your leg up, making sure you leave your ankle in the exact same position. “are you comfortable like this?” he asks, before doing anything, making you nod in return.

prior to wrapping the rope around your leg, he makes sure to find the middle and fold it in equal halves.

george shuffles from the middle of your body, to the side so he can easily work the rope around your thigh. he places it around the inside of your thigh, making sure the loop is on the outside, slightly above where your ankle and thigh meet. he pulls the end strands through the loop, gently binding your leg.

“is this too tight princess?” he asks looking at your face for any sign of displeasure.

with a reassuring smile you say “no, please continue”. so he does, making another loop around your leg in the same fashion as before, just now also making sure the rope doesn't cross itself. taking care that the tension isn't too much he brings the end of the rope through the loop again, where he ties a knot and secures the leg binding in place.

now bending over you, he quickly, but gently gives you another kiss on the lips, asking if you are ready for the other leg, which you answer with the affirmative.

once both legs are tied the moves back to your middle where he tries admiring his work, before you interrupt him.

“what about my arms?” you question, slowly reaching them towards him.

“what about your arms?” he asks, confusion lacing his face.

“i would like them tied up” you state, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“if that's what the princess wants, who am i to deny her request?” he jokes, moving back to the box to get out the handcuffs. “flip around, hands behind your back” he demands, helping you flip onto your front. softly taking your wrist to the middle of your back, and placing the cold metal handcuffs on them, not tightening them fully.

“fuck princess, you look so good tied up like this” george groans, making you smile. he lightly traces his hands along the ropes all they way up to your panties, making you suck in a breath.

delicately george moves his right hand from your hip to your clit, massaging it through the fabric, pulling out a moan from you. “is that what you want?” he teases.

the little yes you let out was muffled by the pillow, george almost didn't catch it. without stopping, he brings his other hand to the wet patch now appearing on your underwear, teasing the hole by pushing two of his fingers against your clothed cunt.

“please george” you moan out, making him understand you need him. so in one swift motion he rips your panties in half, discarding them on the floor. he brings back one of his hands to your clit, and runs the other alongside your slit, all the way to your hole, where he enters at an agonizingly slow pace curling his fingers.

[benispunk]

Who's that girl?

Chapter 4: Before We Speak

Logan always has to be the strong figure, even when everything wants to fall apart.

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W, mentions of dark backgrounds.

A/N: hello lovelies!! fourth chapter is up whoop whoop🎉. this one is entirely focused on Logan because why not? this is a day in our little honey badger's life and I'm not sorry for anything. it could have been way worse. thanks for all the support on this series!! enjoy this part <3

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist / Previous Part

Beep Beep Beep Be—

Sometimes Logan wondered how he still hadn’t destroyed that damn alarm clock. He woke up slowly, his body heavy from the comfort of sleep. Finally glancing at his worst enemy of his every morning, he read: 5:30 AM. Time to start the day.

He got up and opened the blinds, though the sun wasn’t up yet, and except for some other people in other buildings, nobody was up yet either. 

After a quick shower and pulling on some shirt and jeans, Logan grabbed his keys and backpack, trying not to make too much noise for his roommates that were probably still sleeping deeply.

You’ll sleep later, Logan.

As he stepped outside of the building, the cool morning air hit his face, waking him up fully.

Logan was the one in charge of opening the center and he preferred going there way earlier than everyone else just to get a moment of peace and calm before the chaos started. He checked every room and classes, making sure everything was ready for the day and once this was done, he sat down and served himself one well-deserved cup of (disgusting) coffee.

The center was a large, well-worn building. It wasn't much to look at from the outside—just a faded brick structure with narrow windows—but inside, it was full of life. Colorful posters lined the walls, some painted by the kids themselves, and inspirational quotes were scattered around, the kind that Logan never really cared for but knew meant something to someone.

The lounge area where he sat was small but cozy, with mismatched chairs and a sagging couch that had seen better days. A few shelves were filled with books and board games, and the corner had a coffee station that barely worked. Yet, this was his place— a refuge in the chaos.

Beyond the lounge, the rest of the center sprawled out: classrooms where kids of all ages learned in their own ways, sensory rooms with soft lights and calming music, a large gym where activities were held, and a garden out back where they often took the kids for fresh air. It was more than just a special school; it was a sanctuary for those who needed it.

As Logan scanned the room, his thoughts drifted. He wasn’t one to reflect much, but opening the center every day before anyone else arrived had become his ritual, a moment to prepare for the storm of the day ahead. Today would be like any other— he’d make sure the supplies were ready, the classrooms set, and his mind focused.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the hum of the automatic doors opening.

“Good morning, Logan.”

Logan’s daydream was interrupted by the familiar voice of Charles. The older man entered the lounge in his wheelchair, his presence as steady as ever. Charles had been the head of the center for as long as Logan could remember.

Logan nodded, setting down his coffee. “Morning, Charles.”

Charles wheeled himself closer, pausing just in front of Logan. “Early, as always. You know, you don’t have to get here before the sun’s up every day.”

Logan grunted in response, though there was a faint smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Old habits die hard.”

Charles chuckled. “Well, I appreciate it. Keeps the place running smoothly.” He paused, glancing around the lounge, his expression softening. “How’s everything looking for today?”

Logan leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. “Classes are prepped, gym’s ready. Couple new kids starting this week, so I’ll be keeping an eye on them. Should be a normal day.”

Charles nodded thoughtfully, though there was something in his eyes that made Logan pause. “What?” Logan asked.

“Just thinking,” Charles said, his voice dropping a bit. “It’s a shame, isn’t it? All this work, and now…” He trailed off, and Logan knew exactly what he meant. The center was struggling. Funding cuts, low enrollment— there had been rumors for months now that they might not last much longer. It wasn’t the first time Charles had hinted at it, but hearing it out loud still hit Logan in the gut every time.

“We’ll figure it out,” Logan said, though even he wasn’t sure how much he believed it.

Charles nodded again, but there was a heaviness to the gesture. “I hope you’re right, Logan. For their sake.” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the classrooms, where the kids would soon arrive, full of energy and life.

Logan didn’t respond. He wasn’t one for long conversations, especially not ones that reminded him of things he couldn’t fix. Instead, he stood up and grabbed his coffee, raising it towards Charles in a silent gesture. “I’ll be in the gym.”

Charles watched him go, his expression unreadable.

The gym was Logan’s favorite part of the center. High ceilings, wide-open spaces, and the kind of place where he could let the kids run wild. He liked the controlled chaos of it all—kids bouncing off the walls, their laughter echoing, and the satisfaction of seeing them engage in a world that often felt too overwhelming for them. Here, they were free. Here, they were just kids.

As he stepped inside, Logan could already hear the hum of the day beginning. Soon the first teachers would trickle in. He checked the schedule on the clipboard hanging by the door, making mental notes of the day’s activities. But even as he planned, his thoughts lingered on Charles' words.

What if the center shut down? What would happen to the kids? What would he do?

He shoved the thought away for now, focusing on the present. There were kids to be taken care of today, and that's what mattered.

A sharp sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway, pulling Logan's attention to the door. The first wave of staff was arriving.

The first few kids arrived not long after them. Logan could hear their familiar voices echoing down the hallway, some excited, some grumpy from early wake-ups, but all of them ready to start their day. As they trickled in, Logan stood by the entrance to greet them.

"Morning, Bobby," Logan said as a boy with dark, tousled hair bounded through the door, his backpack almost as big as he was.

"Morning, Mr. Howlett!" Bobby called back with a wide grin, not slowing down as he headed straight for the gym.

Next was Kitty, one of the quieter students, who gave him a shy wave as she walked in, hugging her notebook to her chest.

"Morning, Kitty," Logan said softly, offering her a small smile. She nodded without a word, as always, but Logan could see the relief in her eyes. She always felt safe here.

The rest of the group trickled in—about a dozen kids in all, each with their own unique personalities and quirks. Logan knew them well, better than most. He could read their moods just by the way they walked in, and today seemed to be a good day. No tantrums, no meltdowns. Yet.

Once everyone was inside, Logan led them to the first class of the day. History wasn’t always the easiest subject to teach, but Logan had a way of making it work. He kept things simple, focusing on the stories behind the facts— because that’s what kids understood best, the stories.

As they settled into their seats, Logan stood at the front of the small classroom, a whiteboard behind him and a map of the world pinned to the wall.

"Alright, who remembers what we talked about last week?" Logan asked, his deep voice quiet but commanding enough to capture the attention of the room.

A few hands shot up— Bobby’s was the first, as always.

Logan nodded to him. "Go ahead, Bobby."

"We talked about Ancient Egypt! You said they had these huge tombs for their kings and queens, and they put all their treasures inside."

"That’s right," Logan said, crossing his arms and leaning against his desk. "The pyramids. But they didn’t just put treasures inside. What else?"

Kitty, who was usually too shy to speak up, raised her hand cautiously. Logan gave her an encouraging nod.

"Um, they put their pets inside too?" she said softly.

"Exactly. Sometimes pets, sometimes even servants." Logan smiled at her, watching her shoulders relax slightly. "Why do you think they did that?"

Bobby’s hand shot up again, but Logan pointed to a girl in the back who rarely spoke— Laura. The girl was staring at the map, lost in thought, but when Logan called her name, she blinked and looked around.

"Uh… because they thought they’d need them in the afterlife?" Laura said hesitantly.

"Right again," Logan replied. "They believed the afterlife was just another version of this life, so they wanted to bring everything with them that they’d need. It’s like packing for a trip, but instead of clothes, you’re bringing your pets and gold." He gave a small smile, which earned a few giggles from the class.

Logan continued the lesson, writing down some words on the board and telling stories of ancient rulers and their grand tombs. He kept the pace slow, knowing some of the kids needed extra time to process, and he made sure to check in with everyone throughout the lesson, gauging their engagement.

As the lesson wrapped up, the bell rang for the morning break, and the kids shuffled out of the classroom, excited to stretch their legs. Logan watched them go, making a mental note of who seemed engaged and who might need extra help later.

He was about to head out for a quick break himself when he noticed someone lingering by the door— Laura, the girl from earlier. She stood there, clutching the straps of her backpack, staring at the floor.

She had joined the center about a year ago, a girl with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue, quick to push people away before they could get too close. Her file said she’d been in and out of foster homes, and she had a history of acting out, of disappearing for days at a time. But Logan saw through it. She wasn’t just acting out for the sake of rebellion. It was survival for her. Trust didn’t come easy.

Each of these kids had been through so much stuff, things they didn’t deserve, things they weren’t even supposed to know at their age, and yet here they were, because the regular system wouldn’t take the risk of taking them in. That’s why this center existed, to help those kids and teenagers society had already rejected. 

They were only children. It broke his heart every single day.

Laura was always on edge, always watching. Logan noticed the way she sized people up, the way her eyes darted around the room like she was waiting for something bad to happen.

When she first started at the center, they had clashed. Logan’s patience and calm demeanor only seemed to irritate her more. She didn’t talk unless she had to, and even then, it was usually a one-word answer.

Today, Laura had been quiet. Too quiet.

Logan had learned to read her tells, and something was off.

As the bell rang for the break, she didn’t move. The other kids bolted out of the classroom like they always did, but Laura stayed behind, her eyes still fixed on the window, her jaw clenched.

Logan leaned against his desk, waiting until the room was empty before speaking. "You’re gonna miss your break if you sit there all day."

She didn’t respond. Typical Laura.

Logan watched her for a moment before crossing the room and sitting down in the chair next to her, his body turned toward her but giving her space.

"You alright, kid?" he asked, his voice low and calm, like he was talking to a wild animal he didn’t want to spook.

Laura’s gaze didn’t shift, but her grip on the edge of her chair tightened.

"I know you," she muttered after a long silence, her voice rough. "You’re just waiting for me to screw up again."

Logan sighed softly, shaking his head. "Not here to wait for you to screw up. I’m here to help you."

Laura scoffed. "Yeah, right."

Logan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You think I’m doing this for fun? Waking up at 5:30 every morning to come here because I got nothing better to do?"

She finally turned her head to look at him, her eyes narrowing like she was trying to figure out his angle.

"You don’t get it," she said, her voice harsh. "You don’t know what it’s like."

Logan met her gaze, unflinching. "Maybe I don’t know your exact story, but I’ve seen enough, and I know enough to get the picture. And I know you’re not alone, even if it feels like it."

Her eyes flickered for a second, something passing over her face before the hardened mask came back. She looked away, her jaw tightening again, and for a moment, Logan thought the conversation was over. But then she spoke again, quieter this time.

"I don’t wanna be here anymore," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Logan frowned. "What do you mean?"

Laura’s shoulders tensed, and she gripped the chair so hard her knuckles went white. "This place. This... stupid center. I don’t belong here. I can’t—" She cut herself off, shaking her head in frustration, as if the words were too much to get out.

Logan let out a slow breath. He’d seen this before— the tipping point where a kid was ready to run, because staying still felt too risky.

"You don’t have to do this alone," Logan said gently. "If it feels like too much, we can work on that. Together. But you gotta tell me what's really going on, Laura. Or Professor Xavier.  Anybody, really.»

For the first time, Laura’s mask cracked. Her eyes filled with frustration, but behind it, Logan could see the fear. The vulnerability she never let anyone see.

"I don’t belong anywhere," she muttered, her voice shaking. "No one gives a damn. Everyone leaves."

Logan stayed silent for a beat, letting her words sink into the space between them.

"That’s not true," Logan said softly. "You’re here. You’re fighting. You show up every day, even when it’s hard. That says a lot about you, more than you think."

Laura’s eyes flickered toward him, suspicious, but something about his tone made her stay.

"You know what I think?" Logan continued. "I think you’re stronger than you think. And if you want to talk, if you want to work through this... We’re all here. You don’t have to run."

Laura didn’t respond right away, but her shoulders slumped just a bit. The tension that had been coiling inside her all day seemed to ease, if only slightly.

"I don’t know if I can," she muttered.

Logan nodded, standing up slowly and giving her space. "You don’t have to decide today. Just know that the door’s open whenever you’re ready."

He started walking toward the door, expecting her to stay where she was, but then he heard her voice again, small and uncertain.

"Logan?" she asked, and for the first time, she used his name instead of calling him "Mr. Howlett."

"My name is Logan but for some legal reason you have to call me Mr.Howlett," he would say on the first day of school every year.

He turned around, his brows raised.

"Thanks," she said quietly, her gaze dropping back to her hands.

Logan nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Anytime, kid."

As he left the room, he felt a familiar heaviness settle in his chest, one that always came after a conversation like that. The weight of seeing a kid like Laura— someone who was so close to falling through the cracks, struggling to keep her head above water.

But for now, at least, she was still fighting. And Logan would be there to help her keep going, one step at a time.

As Logan left the classroom, the conversation with Laura replayed in his mind, lingering like a heavy weight on his chest. It was the kind of talk that always stuck with him, reminders of the pain these kids carried, the damage they fought to keep hidden.

He walked down the empty hallway, each step feeling slower, heavier. His usual routine of checking on classrooms and prepping for the next lesson seemed far away. All he could think about was Laura’s words, her quiet admission that she didn’t think she belonged anywhere, and how familiar that feeling was.

Logan knew that weight all too well.

He pushed open the door to the staff lounge, needing a moment to collect himself. The clock on the wall told him there were still ten minutes before the next class. It wasn’t enough time to shake this feeling, but he’d take what he could get.

Sinking into one of the chairs, Logan rubbed his hands over his face, trying to push the conversation out of his mind. But it wouldn’t leave him. It never did. It wasn’t just Laura. Every kid at the center carried a similar burden. They all had their demons, their scars. And each one of those conversations weighed him down, little by little.

It was part of the job, but that didn’t make it any easier.

The faint sound of a bell rang out in the hallway, signaling the start of the next class. Logan stood up slowly, taking a deep breath before heading out to meet his students. He had to pull it together. For them.

But as he walked back into the classroom, the weight of the conversation with Laura still clung to him like a dark cloud.

The day dragged on, and no matter how hard Logan tried to focus, his mind kept drifting back to the look on Laura’s face— the fear and vulnerability hidden beneath her tough exterior. He kept thinking about how much these kids reminded him of his own past, his own battles.

By the time the final bell rang, Logan was exhausted. Not from the physical strain, but from the emotional toll the day had taken on him. 

Just as he was packing up to leave, he spotted Wade through the classroom window. He was standing there with a goofy grin on his face, holding up a small box of donuts and a coffee.

But something felt... off. Wade’s smile didn’t reach his eyes like it usually did. He looked tense, distracted. Logan frowned but said nothing at first.

Wade sauntered into the classroom, his usual bravado on full display. “Hey, I come bearing gifts. You looked like you could use a sugar rush.”

Logan took the coffee, eyeing Wade carefully. “Thanks, man. You okay?”

Wade waved off the question with a laugh that sounded a little too loud. “Me? Of course! I’m always okay. What’re you talking about?”

Logan didn’t press further, but he wasn’t convinced. Wade’s humor had always been a shield, something to hide behind when things got too real. He knew that well enough by now.

"Alright," Logan said quietly, breaking off a piece of the donut and offering it to Wade. "If you say so."

Wade took the donut with a shrug, as if nothing was wrong, but Logan could see the tension in his shoulders. They sat there in silence for a while, chewing slowly. Wade broke the silence first, launching into one of his stories—something about a weird couple at last night’s gig and how he had to improvise a joke to get out of an awkward heckling situation.

Logan just nodded along, smirking occasionally at Wade’s antics. He wasn’t much of a talker, especially compared to Wade, but they had their dynamic down by now. Wade talked, Logan listened. That was how it worked. It wasn’t until Wade’s voice grew a little more strained that Logan felt the crack in his friend’s usual confidence.

As they walked out of the center, Wade was still rattling off his story, his words slightly more rushed than usual.

“I swear, man, if this one guy hadn’t backed off, I would’ve—"

“You sure you’re okay?” Logan asked again, cutting him off, his voice quieter this time, more concerned.

Wade immediately put his mask back on, laughing a little too loudly again. “Of course! Stop worrying about me, peanut. You’ve got your own crap to deal with. Speaking of which, how’s it going with Y/N, huh? Been hanging out together without me, yet?”

Logan rolled his eyes, though Wade’s obvious attempt to change the subject didn’t go unnoticed. “She’s our roommate, Wade.”

“Sure, sure,” Wade said with a wink. “Got it.”

Logan let it go. Pushing Wade wouldn’t get him anywhere. They’d been through this before. He’d talk when he was ready, and when that time came, Logan would be there.

Back at the apartment, the scent of something delicious greeted them as soon as they walked in the door. Y/N was in the kitchen, apron on, stirring a pot of what looked like some kind of stew.

“Hey, perfect timing,” she called over her shoulder. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Logan grunted a small thank you, setting his bag down by the door, but Wade was, as always, much more dramatic.

“Y/N, you absolute angel,” Wade gushed, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “I don’t deserve this! But I’ll take it.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing up at them both. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” Wade replied, but his usual humor seemed thinner, more like a front than ever before. He shot Logan a quick look, as if daring him to say anything. Logan just gave a subtle shake of his head and headed into the living room.

The shadows of the day lingered, tightening around him. He settled onto the couch, his mind racing back to Laura’s quiet admission. It was hard to shake the feeling that he was somehow failing her, as if his own past could offer her a lifeline he wasn’t made to provide.

Wade followed him in, his usual bravado on display but lacking its usual spark. “Hey, did you hear me? I was talking about the heckler,” Wade said, attempting to recapture the lightness that had slipped away from him.

“Yeah, I heard you,” Logan replied, trying to match Wade's tone. He could feel the edges of his own thoughts creeping in, threatening to overshadow their banter. “Sounds like you handled it well.”

“Of course! I’m the best,” Wade said with a grin, though it faltered slightly as he caught Logan’s gaze. “Seriously though, what’s up? You’ve been quiet. Did your kids hit you with one of those heavy questions again?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, but the words stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to drag Wade into his emotional turmoil, especially when his friend was clearly wrestling with something of his own. Instead, he forced a small smile. “Just a long day.”

Wade nodded, his gaze scrutinizing. “You know, you could talk about it, right? We’re here for you.”

Logan shrugged, the weight of Wade’s words hitting harder than expected. He appreciated Wade’s willingness to listen, but he also felt that familiar instinct to shield his friend from the darkness that came with his memories. “I’m good, really.”

Just then, Y/N emerged from the kitchen, carrying a pot. “Dinner’s ready!” she announced, her smile brightening the room. It smelled delicious. He loved that she was settling so well into their dynamic.

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re the best,” Logan said, feeling a warmth spread through him at her kindness.

Wade leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms with a playful smirk. “You’re amazing,” he gushed, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “You might be my favorite roommate I’ve ever had.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing between them. “Just trying to make something nice. Hope it’s okay!”

“Looks great,” Logan assured her, though he could see the uncertainty flickering in her eyes. She was still getting used to their routine, just as he was getting used to having her around.

As they gathered around the table, Logan focused on the meal, the rich aromas helping to distract him from his thoughts. Wade filled the silence with jokes and stories. Logan nodded along, trying to engage, but he could feel the tension in Wade’s shoulders, just as he sensed it in his own.

After dinner, as Y/N began to clear the table, Logan stood up to help her. “Let me take those,” he offered, reaching for the plates.

“Thanks,” she replied, her eyes meeting his briefly. He appreciated her easy smile, the way she brought a sense of warmth to their home, but he was still aware of how new everything felt.

Wade lingered at the table, looking at both of them with an unreadable expression. “You two sure seem cozy over there,” he teased, but there was a hint of something more serious in his tone.

Logan glared at him from the kitchen as the man just winked.

Bastard.

Once the table was cleared, they settled onto the couch. Logan leaned back, taking a moment to breathe. He felt the weight of the day settle in once more, but he was grateful for the distraction of Y/N and Wade. No matter how heavy the conversations, he knew he wasn’t alone in this.

“Alright, what’s next? Movie night?” Wade suggested, a little too brightly.

“Sounds good to me,” Y/N replied.

Logan nodded, grateful for the opportunity to escape, even if just for a little while. They flicked through the channels, laughter and light banter filling the room, but a part of Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that the shadows were still lurking just beyond the surface. Still, for now, he had this moment— this family —and it was enough.

XXX

[itsyagurlchip]

INGRESSIVE INHALE

I. Need. 2018 Raphael. DATE HEADCANONS

(only if you want :3)

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Lovely Sights☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ᯓᡣ𐭩warnings: none, enjoy :)!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 VOID MY DEARRRRR ❤️❤️❤️ I GOTCHU BAE 🤪 but fr, thx for requesting! (GUYS STOP SAYING "IF YOU WANT TO" GRGGRGRGGR I WOULDVE DELETED THE ASK IF I DIDNT WANT TO USYGSUYGSUHVUSGV) (this was from months ago, we are now divorced. croak you old witch/jjjj)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Ohhhhh, Raph has a datemateee~

Raph is a huge guy, so that's where all the love's gonna be at today.

He loves it when you sleep on top of him when you guys cuddle, to feel that small pressure on him makes him sleep as well.

While he doesn't like holding you per say, he loves it when you hang onto him.

It makes him feel like he doesn't always have to be aware of himself holding you, and only the things around you two.

Raph feels comforted when you just hold his face, and close your eyes..

Whether it is a breathing practice, or when he needs to calm down, he always likes the feeling of your hands against his face.

Double points if you scratch his neck between those two spikes-!

Oh man, you're the best at those.

I feel like if Raph were approached with a situation where he's feeling possessive, he'd get all shy and nervous about it.

He feels as if it shouldn't be right for him to feel that way, I mean, y-you're already perfect so- why'd you wanna huffy puffy giant over your shoulder?

Nuh uh! He resists it all! Okay, maybe glare at the woman staring at you, and the dude biting his lip.

What's up with everyone and trying to snatch you up!? All the other people were wuss, and Raph got you first!

Eyes off punk!

Sometimes, when you're sitting on the couch, Raph just likes to plant his head on your lap and watch you do whatever you're doing.

The way your face scrunches up when a main character does something stupid.

Or when you giggle at a short video.

And when you subconsciously start rubbing your hand against the back of his neck.

It makes him shiver, with a deep rumble, and relax more into your warmth.

Sometimes you don't even know it, but Raph unknowingly takes your arm and just rests his teeth there.

Not even biting it, just resting his jaw between your arm.

Sometimes he adds pressure to feel the gummy-squish as he nibbles softly.

"Raph, Honey, you're doing it again." You'd say, smiling a bit as Donnie went on to explain what the mission was.

"Mhoin' wha'?" He muffled, looking down at your arm and letting go immediately.

He gets super embarrassed afterwards.

On the line of embarrassed, the MOMENT you leave the lair he's all giggly n stuff.

"Bro who gotchu smilin' like that?"

He brothers tease him so much for it, but he can't help but take it because ALL of what they're saying is TRUE.

Poor guy is lovesick, and all you did was make kandi together :)

Sometimes he likes to gush to Mikey about your most recent date, or the outfit you wore today, and the way you smiled while talking about your favorite food.

Mikey was eatin' it up. He declared Raph 'Downbad, Certified Love Chaser.'

Leo would side eye with every rant, pretending to throw up at every compliment Raph prayed your way.

Like bro, keep that to yourself thank yew very much.

If Raph ever talks to Donnie about you, he would simply be confused.

Why is Raph talking about crushes to Donnie? His heart belongs to the one and only Atomic Lass.

With all those words, he could literally program a bot. But he lets him talk, never really listens though.

I don't think i've ever covered this part of him, but how would Savage Raph feel about you?

Me personally, I see Savage Raph as a defense mechanism to protect himself when he truly thinks he's alone.

And in turn, it sort of makes him more turtle than teenager you know?

Let's look at this two ways;

If he did think you were a threat, he would probably hurt you severely. When snapping turtles find people as threats, they either hide or bite them.(I know many people don't like hearing that, but I think it's true)

If he didn't, then he would protect you as well. Maybe even huddle himself around you to create a barrier between you and the world. When snapping turtles want to show affection, they protect their mates from harm.

Do you see the vision?

Which brings me to my next point:

While Raph never wants to intentionally hurt you, ever, it still happens. Savage Raph, for example.

You guys will find yourselves in moments where you nick your hands or shoulders during cuddling, and Raph apologizes heavily.

He'll panic first, not knowing what to do because his mind's run a blank.

But after a lil pep talk with mind Raph, he gets himself together and grabs you a bandaid from his dresser, not before cleaning the scratch though.

When you guys train together, his punches can leave giant bruises on you and he feels guilty every single time.

You swear you're fine! You could take more!!

But Raph seeing you breath heavily will be like "Nope! Nuh uh, you're going to the med-room. I ain't fightin' you until you take a break!"

All Raph knows, he has a lovely sight to see everyday.

He couldn't believe it took so long to find it.

tehe I made it extra long for you<333

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა tags: @kittykittyanon @bonefanatic @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა@ziipzeepzop-eez @wheezdostuff @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r @matteo-hamato

@clown-froggi

if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

[bisnes-socks]

i have a lot to say about this one so pack a snack and let's make sex moneyyy

i think this is one of the most openly culture and media (and social media) critical songs he has. i think it's a super daring song that probably makes the likes of certain helsingin sanomat music critics a little bit uncomfortable, because he is spitting facts - and because he has a relationship with sex for show that people for some reason are still quite weird about.

to start a little further back: we all know sex sells. we all know the music industry uses sex to sell their products. but for some reason, in the year of our lord 2024, a musical artist verbally recognising that they are using their sexuality and sexual themes to build their brand is somehow scandalous. it's like.. it's okay to use sex to sell your art, if it's like "accidental" MTV sexuality or like agreeing to looking objectifiable. the media will call you hot and sexy and wow. but if you own your sexuality, make it obvious that yes this is sexual, i'm being very deliberately sexual and i am trying to be sexual..? oh no that won't do! scandal! we've seen it with so many artists, especially female artists. like WAP is a great example! how scandalous that suddenly these women had agency in their own sexuality! but no-one said a word when their sexuality served the usual male gaze agenda. it's like people are so much more comfortable being peeping toms who sexualise and objectify artists when they're not looking, but as soon as the artist does it as part of their whole thing? well now it's inappropriate actually.

he talked about this in a helsingin sanomat interview, saying how he does actually think things revolve too much around sex in the music industry, even though he uses sex and sexual themes himself to sell things as well, and that he sees the irony in saying that. but the difference, in my opinion, is that the way he, or someone like erika vikman for example, is so open and upfront about the sexual themes, that it becomes carnevalistic, it becomes camp. it's not insidiously using sexual and heteronormative objectifying imagery to get people horny. what käärijä does is playful and fun sexuality, and for whatever reason that is so unusual it needs to be talked about separately as something a bit wild and scandalous, and he needs to be asked to explain his actions.

and that's what this song is. he's very clearly saying none of this is accidental. the visuals of his brand, the social media content, the onlyfans thing, none of it is coincidental, accidental or anything other than his perfectly deliberate way of selling sex. and he has talked about these themes before, he has talked about like the rammstein live stuff that inspired him (some of it is pretty hardcore stuff) so to his fans it's nothing surprising that sexual themes are present in the brand and interest him. but he has also talked about how, even if this song is a bit tongue in cheek, he's also serious. and he is right. and for some reason calling people out about the fact that sex makes them buy things, even when it's true, is still.. scandalous somehow.

and he's basically calling people easy lmao. like, i needed to figure out a lil boost to my career and well, i know what will make you throw money at me. and i won't be shy about it either.

i'm getting sidetracked. the song.

and then that is enough to warrant lyrics such as "koko perheen käärijästä koko perheen krapula" meaning "käärijä for the whole family turning into a hangover for the whole family".

but it was all already there! let's not for a second pretend CCC was some sort of family show and a family song. it's not. but people were okay with that, because they could happily confuse the camp and carnevalistic sexuality of käärijä with the campness and carnevalistic nature of eurovision, and because it wasn't more than the suggestive sexual nature of everything else around them. and it was all just fun, when kids came up with their own lyrics to the song because they couldn't understand the references to drinking. so then people took their kids to see him at shows and became scandalised by the adult nature of it all. it's like.. people were fine letting their kids see the everyday media sexuality that we see in every eurovision, fine letting their kids get used to that, and then just sort of didn't think käärijä would be anything different. but he's only different in that in his show and brand, sex and sexuality aren't denied while still blatantly obviously there.

but again, a lot of this is to do with media, and what media normalises and what it doesn't. what it deems newsworthy and what it doesn't.

if in ready to go he's telling haters that i know you want to see me try and fail, maybe even be too embarrassed to try, but baby i'm ready to go, then in sex = money he's saying i know you want to see me naked and i know you want sex from all of this, so here you go, i'll sell you some sex. and then he stands there holding eye contact like what are you going to do with it. what a cunty king.

and there are so many fun and funny little details in this song.

right in the first verse we have "kieli taittuu sköödi föödi." good old sköödi föödi. i tried to find the earliest example of sköödi föödi, but i'm starting to think it might predate the internet, or at least social media. not to bring up köpi kallio again, but they use sköödi föödi a lot in viki ja köpi show, and köpi just happened to tweet about it in 2020, saying he believes sköödi föödi has been around for at least 20 years (someone tried to credit viki and köpi for it). so, what does sköödi föödi mean, you ask. it does not mean anything at all. sköödi föödi is just a sound, a noise you make, when you need it, usually in place of something in a foreign language but not exclusively. in this instance, sköödi föödi is him demonstrating his excellent english skills. sköödi föödi (pronounced almost like a sterotypical tv american would say skirdy-firdy) means nothing and it means everything, whatever you need it to mean.

it is also noteworthy to point out that "kieli taittuu" can be a reference to two different things here. the finnish word kieli means both tongue and language. so he could also be saying that he has a very bendy and flexible tongue, like literally. which, of course, all of europe has already seen. taittua literally means to fold or bend, but it's a common phrase to say, that if you can do something, you bend it (or more like it bends as a result). so literally the line translates to "language/tongue bends sköödi föödi".

the first verse ends in "sekö jos mikä on varma nakki" meaning "that, if anything, is a sure thing". nakki literally means a sausage, a hot dog sausage, weiner sausage, you name it: a small sausage. so translating literally: "that if anything is a sure sausage". it's a common phrase in spoken finnish, nothing unusual about that, but i love that he used it, because it makes the next line hilarious on a first listen, when the chant comes in. so when they start chanting NAK- NAK- i really thought they were gonna shout NAKKI. but no, it is nakuna, naked.

okay still with me? good. let's look at the "tein onlyfans bägin, koko suomen daddy" section next.

i remember when the song came out, people did explain who danny is, but in case anyone missed it, danny is a singer from finland, and he was a MASSIVE star back in the day, especially in the 70's. so to say he is bigger than danny is indeed quite the flex, because danny was like.. the finnish equivalent of elvis, basically. but danny is not just a flex, he turns danny into a clever thematical scheme here (more on thematical schemes in the bananas post, if you're interested). he says "kadulla on kuumaa, ne pyytää mua hätiin" and this is a reference to one of danny's most popular and famous songs, kesäkatu. smart, smart, smart! and then of course "kadulla on puumaa, mut mulla on jo täti" meaning there are cougars on the street, but i already have an aunt. which, that to me reads like both a cunty quip and a himbo line all at once. like shutting down some man wanting to be your daddy by telling him "but i already have a father". i nearly choked laughing the first time i heard the line.

also can i just say, calling himself the daddy of finland? like, thinking about the whole context i talked about at first, how people are comfortable with sexual stuff and sexualising, but not comfortable recognising it or being real about it or celebrating it? yeah knowing all that, he just called himself EVERYONE'S daddy in a song called sex = money, and he's not even wrong 😭

in conclusion: i love this song. and i love the attitude in it. it's like he is looking everyone, from every uncomfortable insecure hetero man, every scandalised parent to every tabloid journalist, straight in the eye and saying "yes, i'm selling sex. why? well i couldn't think of anything else, but then again, why should i? isn't this what you want? this is what you want. i know what you want. i'm your daddy."

like if he truly wanted to, he really could have this country on their knees for him, don't tell me last independence day didn't prove it. as much as he gets crap as well, at the end of the day, he has people under a spell by simply being, well, bigger than danny. and he-man.

now. the placement of the song on the album, right after autiomaa.

i personally don't think that the album builds one cohesive narrative from beginning to end. but i think this can be read two ways: a sad way and an empowering way. the sad way to read it is that he means it when he says he couldn't come up with anything else and his creativity is fried, but sex sells so he does that, and it's a bit mindless. but given the context of what he has had to say about this song, i'm more inclined to read this the empowering way: he has worked on himself and found a way to see things more clearly, and he has found it in himself to even be confrontational about things. the whiplash of the song order i think is more to highlight the fact that autiomaa is a rare glimpse into something different, and now here we go again. to me, sex = money makes autiomaa even more powerful, but autiomaa doesn't change the interpretation of sex = money all that much for me.

you really can't be upset about the song without proving his point. and you can't love the song without proving his point. facts have been spat and points have been proven. absolute king behaviour.

and if you read through this whole thing, i owe you money. cash money, not sex money. well, we'll talk about it.

++

bonus: i absolutely love that he knows how to say "make some noise" on this track, but continues to say "give me some voice" or some sort of a hybrid word between voice and noise, something like.. woise, at his international shows. the king of in through one ear, out through the other. he, she, noise, voice, he doesn't know the differences and does not care.

bonus bonus for the sad bojere bitches:

second verse: "täl alal ei sua kukaa huomaa" meaning "nobody will notice you in this field (of work)". maybe my brain is rotted but this moment reminds me so much of the famous liverpool bojere lunch date video where bojan tries to parrot jere, who is saying "tääl ollaa nyt, tota" and bojan goes "talalaiteta" and then they both proceed to giggle about it like it's the funniest thing anyone has ever said. "täl alal" goes out to you, bojan titanic.

[lukalnst]

pretty pls with a cherry on top some hurt/comfort w/ luka from alien stage where him and reader were close as kids at anakt garden but as they grew up and entered alien stage he started to become more cold and mean which hurts reader :(( but despite that he shows he’s still the same luka they know and love :))

LUKA X READER (HURT/COMFORT)

Includes: Luka x reader, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, can be both read as platonic or romantic

Luka had changed, or so you thought.

You had noticed this, much more than anyone else. Of course, you couldn't help but notice the changes in his demeanor, not after you two had basically grown up being sewn together.

It hurt, of course. It hurt a lot — you wanted to be close with him again. You had gotten some chances to speak with him, but most of those conversations were nothing but small talk.

You wondered if he missed you the same way you missed him. Did you even cross his mind?

He seemed to be having so much fun with the other participants. Yeah, you were glad to see him happy and enjoying his new relationships, but you felt left behind. Still, it tore you apart to see him doing not so greatly back in your Anakt Garden days, but still, you missed his friendship, the ways he would latch onto your arm while you both laid down in the grass and he would whisper a small 'I love you'.

... You just wanted him back.

What an irritating feeling. He had grown distant, so if you were to ask him for any sort of affection, you'd probably just be greeted with nothing but coldness.

Strangely enough, you had asked him to meet you after a round with some participants who, being completely honest, you didn't really care much about. He just stared at you for a while, then hesitated before accepting.

...

It had been a few days since then, the round had just finished, and you both arrived at the spot where you told him to meet you. Surprisingly, he was pretty early, and he didn't seem too nervous about talking to you once again, something which you couldn't relate to.

"Hey, Luka," your lips trembled slightly as you spoke. You stood up beside him, and he just gave you a nod of acknowledgment. Did you mean nothing to him?

You didn't want to know.

After a few seconds of silence, which seemed to be nearly eternal, he spoke. "So, what do you want to talk about?" He questioned you but didn't make any eye contact with you.

"Well, I just wanted to catch up with you. It's been a while since—" You were cut off by his own words.

"... You still care about me, no? It seems like you haven't changed at all," Luka whispered your name after finishing that sentence.

He was right. When you both were younger, you were always worried sick about him. You made sure that he didn't get hurt or anything similar, something which he showed his appreciation for.

But now, he barely even acknowledged your mere existence. You were surprised that he even remembered your name.

Trying to laugh it off to lighten up the mood, you laughed softly. "I guess," you murmured. "That's not the case for you, though."

Luka's eyes finally met yours.

"Who said it wasn't?" His voice seemed genuinely confused. "Maybe we don't talk that much... but you're still someone who means a lot to me."

His cheeks seemed to have a small pink color dusting them. He had grown up now, so he felt sort of forced to be different from when he was a kid. "If you think I don't care, you're pretty wrong." He added onto his words.

"What... what do you mean?"

"We may not talk much, but you will always be completely and utterly adored by me," A small smile formed in his lips. "After all, you showed me what love really was."

The words that were being said made you feel weirdly emotional, so you latched onto his arm, just like how he did to you when you both were children.

"... I won't let you leave again, Luka."

[jikooklove9795]

Was going through ur last post it was amazing. I am curious though! What was *that* moment of realization to u?

To be honest I am in this jikook shit for years now and feel very refreshed and happy when I see more and more people share and celebrate their relationship

Lots of love❤️❤️

Hi Sweetheart! Thanks so much for your kind words.

The first ever video I watched of BTS was their Dynamite MV. In 2020. I loved it! Everything. The beats, the choreography, their outfits, their voices, their sync. Everything! I started watching everything related to Dynamite. And that's how I stumbled upon the behinds of their MV. I loved how loud and fun the members were. How enthusiastic they seemed about their job.

By this time I was able to tell which members were which. It took me almost a week 😅 It was my first time watching anything Korean. So, I kept getting confused about who was who. However, Namjoon was easy to spot. Maybe it was his blue hair at that time. But by the end of a week I could comfortably identify all of them and got their names correct too.

While I was watching a behinds video of Dynamite I chanced upon this video here. And what struck me was the way Jungkook kept staring at Jimin. He was so into the staring that I doubt he heard anything what was being said until Taehyung had to tap him to get his attention. Not only that but I also noticed that Jimin felt Jungkook's stares on him and was trying not to look at him directly but still looked like he enjoyed the attention.

I got intrigued by what I saw and tried to dig into it to see if it was just a one time thing or if there was more to it. I watched a few Jikook videos on YT. And sure there seemed to be something but I realized all the members are touchy feely and super close with each other. But still the way Jungkook kept looking at Jimin in the above video was something else. It cannot be explained away with normal skin ship, affection or friendship. So, I decided to watch original content cause then I can get the proper context instead of compilation videos.

I saw all the big, loud Jikook moments: RB, GCFT, GCFS, MMA 2018. But what made me realize that Jikook are different, that they're a couple was when I started watching og content in chronological order. Starting from the pre debut days. I could see their story slowly unfolding.

Them being best friends and being find of each other. Jungkook going up to seek Jimin's advice regarding him wanting to pursue a career in dance. We need to remember that Jimin was the last member to get in the team and Jikook knew each other for just 6 months at this time. But Jungkook still felt comfortable going upto Jimin for that talk and nobody else.

Both of them having a soft spot for each other. Jimin being loud and open about his fondness for Jungkook. But for me the more telling was Jungkook's behavior. Jungkook's constant teasing of Jimin (this is something I have seen a lot of teens do when they have a crush, want to get the other's attention but still not ready to admit that there is a romantic interest). Seeking him out, wanting to be next to him, wanting his affection and attention. All of it.

I could see the realization of feelings, the acting on it. By this time in almost every video, let it be backstage or even award shows Jikook were glued at the hip. They were constantly together all the time by their voluntary choice. Jungkook started openly enjoying Jimin's affection, he became more daring and outgoing in seeking out Jimin. He started enjoying his effect on Jimin. And was always coming up with ways to get more of that reaction out of Jimin.

There were grand gestures, most of it from Jungkook. Sometimes it's impulsive but most of the times its because he wants to show Jimin openly how much he's in love and cares for Jimin. He wanted everyone including us, fans to know that he sees and treats Jimin differently.

There's the living together theories (if I'm being honest its not a theory to me cause there's so much evidence pointing to it). Since we are talking about living together how can we not talk about sharing rooms in hotels. They're the only ones doing it. None of the other members are sharing rooms unless its decided by games that they have to share. The others are more than happy to have their own space.

By 2020 they gave an established, secure in their relationship vibes.

So, yeah for me it was all the og content when watched in that order which cemented my belief that they're a couple. A long term one at that. Who cherish what they found unexpectedly when they came to Seoul for their careers.

Once again thank you so much for sending this in 😊

Lots of love to you too ❤