#i get stressed thinking about it i feel like shit

[gifsbysimplysonia]

Hola. Long rambling feedback behind the cut as well as

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

I think this is so beautiful. Anyone who is a creative knows how difficult it can be to find a muse. So for this person to inspire a twitch in Logan after YEARS? That's just a very beautiful thing.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him.  Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring. 

And this is for BOTH 1) thinking it's not ok to be into art??? OK BUT CAVEMEN CARVED INTO WALLS, SIR and 2) "you're nothing if not inspiring" *screamingggggggggggggggggggg*

The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises.  Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing. 

I love that this fits with the Logan I know, the demand on self for perfectionism and the refusal to accept anything but. But it's especially important cuz he wants to do right by YOU/HER. *swoon*

And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more. 

Sigh. Oh Logan. Always thinking he's not worthy while he holds everyone he cares about up on pedestals. I both adore him and wanna shake him for these habits.

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He gets Rogue to show him Instagram for reference photos. HOW CUTE!

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite. 

This is soooooooooooooooo beautiful. It is just a loud beacon of what Logan's heart really is. It's also really precious that he finally produces a drawing of her that he's satisfied with which then produces ANGST in him. Cuz he can't leave it out cuz what if people see? But he doesn't want to hide it cuz what if it smudges? Watching him go back and forth about it and the STRESS shows how much it means to him not to mess it up but ALSO, I think, how much it means to him to be back drawing. As a creative who goes through the longest dry patches, when a period of productivity comes up? OH DO I WANT TO HANG ONTO IT. And probably try so hard that I make it slip through my fingers.

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again.  He could give it to you. 

DO IT LOGANNNNNNNN!

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing? 

YOU care, sir! And people who love you will SEE that and care too!!! Don't we all wish he valued himself and his opinions more.

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him.

It's so precious to me, how relatable this is. Anyone who is a creative can relate, I'm sure. How nervous creatives are before they publish or they post or they even just share with someone they are close to. I wanna hug him.

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it.  Sappy motherfucker. 

Some day, someone needs to tell him he can give himself permission to BE sappy. Corny is part of life and it's a blessing.

He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door.  So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart.  It’s soo stupid. 

It's annoying to read Logan's antiquated views on masculinity here. Completely understand that it fits with his character and how he has aged and evolved but omggggggggggg, it's just frustrating lol

You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

The way we can convince ourselves of the worst possible outcome, eh? *smh*

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing.  You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.” 

SHE IMMEDIATELY TREATED IT AS SOMETHING PRECIOUS!!! SHE WANTED TO PROTECT IT JUST LIKE LOGAN WANTED TO PROTECT IT!!! BUT SHE LOVES IT TO THE POINT SHE MADE HERSELF A COPY TO CARRY IT AROUND WITH HER AT ALL TIMES!!!!!

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that.  But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?”  You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

To see the similarities in how they DON'T see themselves fully is kind of sweet and makes me root for them.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.”  The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created. 

He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing. 

This is HILARIOUS and KILLING ME because I also make rules for MYSELF that are different from the rules I have for EVERYONE ELSE lmao

He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy. 

Logan being an Acts of Service person makes ALL the sense in the world to me.

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end. 

The curse of the sequel! I think a lot of creatives can relate to this type of self induced pressure which means nothing you produce is good enough.

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.” He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

She already has a frame for the new drawing cuz the frames came in packs of 2 and she will NOT STAND for someone not absolutely FAWNING over it and I love that from her. It's doing Logan's heart SO good to see how much she adores what he's created.

If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you. Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

Our man is S-M-I-T-T-E-N and I love that for him. Cuz look what it's brought back into his life?

“I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it. “No one else knows.” You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

This is so intimate. And he's finally comfortable all the way with her. She knows it's him and he's fine with her knowing it's him.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

I appreciate that Logan is just the tiniest bit "selfish" here because this has been such an emotionally taxing ordeal for him. And she really really admires his talent and is THRILLED that it's him and that he sees her the way that he does.

From here the story slips into the Rated R portion of the story which is both hot and very sweet. The buildup means that I feel a genuine connection and intimacy between the 2 that feels "earned," if that's the right word. Cuz it doesn't feel forced or rushed or like we skipped a whole bunch of stuff to get here.

I also love that there's open dialogue. Often, the only talk between lovers is dirty - which I am a big fan of and absolutely fine with - but that here we have sweet confessions, constant check ins, and reassurances; these all fit with the journey we've been on with these two and I just really enjoy that aspect.

There's also good dirty talk, balanced give and take and praaaaaaaaaaaaise which I enjoy thoroughly. Logan also tends to take the possessive "my girl" over and over which just melts my butter!

@selfcarecap thank you so much for creating and sharing this! Thank you for following YOUR muse through to the end of this tale and then being brave enough to slip it under all our doors *bad dum tss* I really loved this look at Logan, his vulnerabilities, his abilities and desires beyond his powers / "job" and what allowing himself to create ultimately gifted him with. Well done smut that I also very much enjoyed too.

And thank you to K for putting it on my dash!

MUSE [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them. 

warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)

word count: 7.3k

also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism

It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him. 

Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring. 

He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises. 

Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing. 

He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more. 

But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.

So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model. 

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it. 

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite. 

He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it? 

But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead? 

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again. 

He could give it to you. 

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing? 

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside. 

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it. 

Sappy motherfucker. 

He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep. 

He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse. 

You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks. 

He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you. 

He wakes up with morning wood. 

Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.

He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door. 

So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart. 

It’s soo stupid. 

He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps. 

He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you. 

Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again. 

He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself. 

It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist? 

He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him. 

He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

-

He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw. 

“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone. 

At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw? 

Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it. 

“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it. 

“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.” 

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing. 

“Did you draw it?” He asks. 

You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.” 

“Secret admirer?” 

Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.” 

“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended. 

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that. 

But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?” 

You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.” 

Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all. 

The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created. 

-

After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven. 

It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing. 

This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy. 

He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect. 

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end. 

It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?). 

He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time. 

He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.

Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.

Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.

“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him? 

“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”

He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.

“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.

“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.

Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”

He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”

Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.

Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

-

He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.

It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know. 

“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”

You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.

Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight. 

But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.

Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.

It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.

Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.

Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.

Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.

He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.

Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid. 

He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.

Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.

“Logan?”

He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.

You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.

He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”

“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.

He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say. 

This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.

You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that). 

He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile. 

This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh. 

You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him. 

It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone. 

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears. 

“You drew this?” you ask.

He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is. 

Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.

You’re kissing him. 

You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his. 

He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long. 

He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better. 

Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access. 

His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide. 

You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged. 

“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead. 

“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.

You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.

“No one else knows.”

You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”

“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”

Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”

You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.

“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”

“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.

Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.

“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.

“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”

You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”

You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”

Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.

You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”

He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.

“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.

Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath. 

“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.

Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”

You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.

“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.

You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.

“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.

“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.

Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.

“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.

You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.

“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.

Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.

You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”

Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.

He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.

You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself. 

You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.

“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.

“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.

“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”

You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”

Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”

You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.

“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.

“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.

“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”

You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.

“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.

“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.

He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. 

You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.

And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.

“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”

You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.

“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.

Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.

“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.

You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.

“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”

You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.

He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.

“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.

“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”

Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.

You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.

You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still. 

You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”

Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.

“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”

“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.

“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”

You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.

“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.

“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”

“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”

You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head. 

You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while. 

Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”

“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.

“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”

“I love your drawings so much.”

Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”

You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is. 

For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

“I’m already yours.”

Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33

gorgeous divider by @pommecita

[midnite-c6]

Omg so I just LOVED the fics that you wrote about thanos and namgyu soo I wanted to ask can you like write more fics about them in like threesome degrading tf out of us so much that we cannot even think of anything or maybe like a second part for timid!reader THAT ONE WAS AMAZING!!!! keep up w your work btw its really good 😭🙏🏻

help thank you😭😭 honestly i love writing abt them i jus.. meow...

thanos & nam-gyu imagine pt. 4!! 🤤

warnings: 18+ DARK content, drugging, dubcon (read at ur own riskk!!)

they both believe you can't fight for yourself since you're so quiet, so they do their best to keep you safe!! they're so kind despite their nature!! you think to urself..., and despite the way they used your body after the six legged race, you still stick with them since they helped you in mingle too!! honestly, thanos and nam-gyu would've thought you'd be getting away from them after that incident, so by you staying, they've confirmed they've got you right in their trap!!

thanos looks up from his food, his eyes lighting up when he sees you "señorita?" he tilts his head, "i don't have any other group to eat with.." you say, looking down at your feet, "nooo! i know what it is!" he nudges nam-gyu's shoulder, "you're here for more aren't you?" he says with that smirk again, dramatically gasping. "what..no.." you weren't like that, you swear! nam-gyu laughed "shit, she's just using our bodies, man!" you quickly shake your head "no!" nam-gyu tilts his head "when did you learn to say no?" thanos stands up, getting closer to you, "listen here, beautiful, we'll do whatever you want, sure.. you're the one in-charge." he smiled 'innocently', leaning in to whisper in your ear "c'mere after lights out, kay?"

nsfw below.. (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/

"you really are a fucking whore." thanos quietly whispers into your ear as he slams in and out of you, your back pressed against his chest, your moans being muffled by his hand, it was a good thing thanos' bed was closer to the ground and that the players above him were already dead, but you know the other players could still hear the faint squeaking of his mattress. "of course you'd listen like a slut, coming here, infact, you were excited for this. hmm?" why DID you go there anyway? ..maybe it did feel good? but poor you! his thrusts weren't giving you any mercy at all.

"i bet.. you don't have any shame at all. you're quietness is just an act.." nam-gyu whispered aswell, with his body infront of you, his hands exploring every inch of your skin, painfully pinching your nipples and biting your neck as you rub your hand in and out of his cock. "you're practically begging for it." "n-n.." you couldn't speak back because of that purple-haired addict's hand!

"wait.. fuuuck, you're sucking me in like crazy, you're gonna cut my dick off, god." thanos whined, putting in two fingers inside your mouth, the taste of his fingers all over your tongue.

"y'knoww.. so fucking funny how she's volunteered to be our personal ..stress toy." nam-gyu's hand find it's way to thanos' necklace filled with ecstacy, he grabs a pill, his attention back on you "we truly thank you for that.. are you proud of your services, freak?" he says mockingly just to spite you, his other hand grabs thanos' hand muffling your mouth. "let go, dude." "she's gonna scream," "nah, nah, she won't. she doesn't wanna die does she?" you whined, shaking your head. "good, slut." nam-gyu smiled, taking the pill he had in his hand and putting it in his mouth. thanos' takes off his hand, his middle and ring finger covered in your saliva as he now places it on your clit, rubbing sloppily. and before you could make any noise, nam-gyu slams his mouth against yours, making you swallow the pill of ecstacy. his tongue tasting your mouth, swallowing each moan escaping your lips. nam-gyu pulls away from your mouth, forcing it to open just to spit inside.

with all the pleasure they were giving despite the mean words, you camee:( your legs were shaking like crazy! "hey! no fair, bitch! i didn't get to cum yet." thanos was frustrated, yet you whimpered in response, you didn't mean to cum!!. "but.. just means we'll be here for muuuuch longer, baby. ya' can't complain, you know you're a whore who can't live without us." thanos didn't lie, your cunt was throbbing and overstimulated by both of their cocks in and out of you. he also didn't lie about how you wouldn't be alive without them, it's true, they saved you anyway, guess you gotta thank them for keeping you safe. ♡

this is pretty long, im srry guyss!! only putting in what my mind is thinking of atm AHHAAH 3somes are so hard to write 😭😭😿🙏🏻

[allmylovc]

heartless!chris takes care of you when you´re drunk.

There had been a campus party tonight, and let´s just say you were having the time of your life. Now that you and chris broke up (again) you were able to enjoy it without any stress of him doing some stupid shit or getting mad over you doing some stupid shit.

You made out with like 10 diffrent guys, and took way too many shots, while chris stood there in the corner watching you like a hawk. He was seething. He hated seeing you around other men, it was disgusting watching you throw yourself on all these guys that you´ve never even met.

He walks up to you after he saw you stumble out the bathroom, and plop on the couch. He takes your drink out hand, your head shoots up "Hey!" you protest as you reach to take your drink back. He shakes his head and sighs "What´s wrong with you, huh?" he said as he taps your head with his other hand.

"Nothing." you scoffed, with an adorable pout on your lips. He rolled his eyes "You´re acting like such a dumbass today." your heart ached at his words. He always acted like this when you two broke up, but he wasn´t any better and he would do the same. So why was it a problem when you did it?

He tilted his head and smirked "C´mon, you´re to drunk to be around all these people." he said as he reached his hand out for you to take.

Which you did.

You two stood up and made your way out the party. He took you to his car, buckled your seatbelt for you and drove off. Once you two got to his place he got you carefully out the car and took you inside.

The second you stepped foot inside you felt that uneasy feeling in your stomach “I’m gonna puke.” you said as you put a hand over your mouth. His eyes widen and he immediately takes you over to the bathroom. Your stomach churns, and you bend over the toilet, barely holding yourself upright.

The nausea is overwhelming, and all you can do is gag, your body shaking with each heave. Chris is kneeling beside you, holding your hair into a make shift ponytail.

His face twists up in disgust as he hears your vomit pouring into the toilet “Let it all out.” He said quietly, as his fingers brushed through your hair.

You wipe your mouth and flush the toilet, and sit back on the cold tile, your legs weak and trembling beneath you. Chris sits down as well, leaning his back over the tub with a grunt.

“What were you thinking?” he asked, you looked up meeting his gaze, you shrugged “I don’t know, chris.” You ran a hand through your hair—moving it away from your face “I was sick of your bullshit,” he scoffed and shook his head “So you’re blaming you being drunk and stupid on me?” he laughed bitterly “Of course.” he huffed “Cause you’re always right, and everyone else is wrong.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes “That’s not what i meant.” you protested “Then what did you mean?” he snapped “You acting stupid and being a fucking slut has nothing to do with me.” he retorted harshly.

The silence grew heavy and so did the tension in the room. Maybe he was right, maybe you were being a total fucking slut, but in your defense you just wanted to forget about him.

“You know how pissed i was when i saw you make out with all those guys?” he admitted silently. You felt a glimmer of happiness knowing you were able to successfully make him jealous, but even then you still felt a bit of guilt gnawing at your chest.

He met your gaze “This is.. this is stupid.” he scoffed, you nodded in agreement “I know it is,” you sighed as you sat straight “I just wish you wouldn’t act the way you act all the time.” He bit his lips “Yeah.” he whispered “I’m sorry.”

“You act so heartless all the time, chris.” he said quietly, he bit the inside of his cheek “I just wish you could show me how you feel sometimes.” he continued.

You two just sat there for a moment in the awkward silence, and the heavy tension in the room. You both fucked up bad, but unlike him you were willing to talk and apologize for your actions. Meanwhile he just sat there and said absolutely nothing.

You looked up and sighed “I love you, chris.” your confession hanging in the air, he didn’t even look at you or show a hint of sympathy or affection he just nodded.

“I know.”

©ALLMYLOVC all rights reserved.

⊹ authors note  — woohoo first heartless!chris blurb, and i don’t how to feel about it, idk why i criticize my work so much, but enjoy! i apologize if there are any misspelled words or grammar errors. english is not my first language.

tags: @marrykisskilled @chrislilcumslvt @sosasturns @cyberskulzzz @slut4chris888 @waitforyrlove @zebonos @/sturnioloangell @slctsblogana @anyaa2s @emely9274 @shadowthesim @frankoceanfanpage @mrsarnold @freshloveee @t0riiiis @jetaimevous @sturn777 @sturniologirlzz @venusbabysblog @ch6rm

[puckinghischier]

Nico looking stressed, grumpy and pissed off lately. He would def take out all that on reader if they gave him permission to do so. God he would become a whole different person in bed 😵‍💫🫠

“just say the word, and i promise it all stops. it all starts and ends with you,” he’d check just one more time you’re sure, almost feeling guilty for what he’s about to do.

“swear on my life, neeks. give me everything you’ve got. please,” you whine and squirm, his outburst on the ice earlier planting a seed in your brain only he can grow.

his eyes darken, your pleas all he needs to spur him on, slamming into you so hard you see stars, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure.

he gives you no warnings, no recovery, just slamming into you over and over again, every ounce of anger he felt on the ice being transferred to your body.

your body jolts with each thrust, thankful the two of you won the argument for a plush headboard in this exact moment. his grunts are animalistic and guttural, never having heard sounds like this from him before. they make your body melt into his even more, not having enough brain power to think about the implications of why this is all so hot for you.

“swear, just can’t get them to do anything right. s’like trying to teach monkeys how to play hockey,” he grunts, using the physical outlet to purge the mental frustrations as well. “s’like i’m the only one on that ice that gives a shit about anything. they won’t shoot, won’t block, aren’t there for passes. a bunch of idiotic fucks.”

you would respond, but the moment you open your mouth, his fingers immediately fill the space. you swirl your tongue around the digits, sucking lightly. the action earns a particularly deep groan, throwing his head back like it’s the most erotic thing he’s ever experienced.

“don’t wanna hear anything other than my name from these pretty little lips, got it?” his eyes bore down onto yours, waiting for your small nod of agreement. “if i can’t get the performance from the guys i want, you’re gonna give me the performance i want in here.”

his command wasn’t even that harsh or demanding, but you’ll be damned if it didn’t make your eyes nearly roll back into your head. when he slips his fingers from your mouth his names becomes the only word in your vocabulary. repeated over and over and over again, never stopping.

you can feel his grip on your hips tighten, making you wonder how many purple splotches you’ll be able to count tomorrow morning. his thrusts get more aggressive as your whines of his name get louder and louder, teetering on the edge of pathetic, but you don’t care.

he thrusts into you the harshest and deepest he has yet, and it causes your body to erupt into the most intense bliss you’ve ever felt, feeling nico’s own body still and his deep voice cry out a loud “FUCK!”

you convulse and shake beneath him, wondering when the waves of pleasure are gonna stop. nico’s still hovered above you, blinking his eyes in a daze.

he pulls his softening dick out of you, a whimper escaping your still shaking body. the waves of pleasure are still subsiding when he climbs off the bed, returning a few seconds later with a warm washcloth and a fresh pair of boxers on.

when he goes to clean you up, you whine and whimper at how sensitive you are, nico’s soft ‘shhhs’ not doing much to calm you.

he crawls into bed beside of you, lifting the bed sheet to cover your bare body, pulling you against him.

“y’alright, sweet girl?” nico whispers as he nudges his nose into your neck, back to his sweet and attentive self. you hum back a “mhmmm,” nestling into his warm body.

you can feel him smirk into your skin, his rumbling voice causing goosebumps to rise. “didn’t realize y’liked when i’m so rough. maybe we should explore this more often.”

the thought brings another whine from your throat, wanting to roll over away from him, but you’re trapped in his arms, any kind of movement impossible.

“god, let a girl recover a bit, yeah? think my vagina is gonna fall off if you put those images in my head right now.”

nico erupts in full on belly laughter, amused at this new discovery. “well not right now, no. just…gonna keep it in mind anytime i try to tell myself not to get too worked up during a game. might…slip and let a hit or two through if i know this is what i have waiting on me when i get home.”

and when he see’s the hand sized bruises on your hips the next day, rushing out apologies and peppering kisses over the purple skin, you assure him you’re fine, seeing the small glint in his eyes at the physical reminder of last night, you know that his penalty minutes are about to sky rocket.

[zombieewrites]

smoking w logan...

logan howlett x reader, friends to lovers

summary: the stress of being a new professor at this school is catching up to you. luckily, you have a good friend to help you take that stress away, in more ways than one.

warnings: weed usage, fem compliments, illusions to sex

word count: 2, 574

I’m fairly new to this school. About 4 months had passed since I had first gotten my invitation from Charles. Which, of course, I happily accepted, excited at the thought of teaching my favorite subjects to people like me. I get the opportunity to share my love of literature through my teachings. The class seems to like me so far, and there’s always a few students straggling behind after class to share a laugh. Being able to connect to my students like this is a treat, and working at this school is just the cherry on top.

The classroom I teach in just so happens to be right across from Professor Howlett's room. His creaky wooden door opens and closes in between classes every period. Being right across from each other means that he and I frequently see each other. Logan often takes advantage of this opportunity to visit the classroom. He’ll do things like bring me coffee, give me papers that I copied off the printer, or just have a little chat. Sometimes, when he's on missions, I'll often sub for his class. It fills me with content to know that Logan trusts me with the care of his class. Being new to the school, I’m highly afraid of what the other professors think of me, but these small interactions with Logan take all of my insecurities away.

“There’s my favorite literature teacher right there!” Logan says with a smile, interrupting my lesson. Interactions like this were common between Logan and I, but every time they happened, the classroom went ballistic. The nosy students love to engage in Logan’s and I's friendship.

“I’m the only literature teacher here, Logan.” I respond with a blank stare, trying to hide my laugh.

“You’ll always be my favorite, though!” The man tells me with a wink before entering his own classroom to return to his teachings. I try to hide my smile and attempt to quickly pull the attention back to my lesson. This interaction made my whole class gasp and snicker.

“Ooo your boyfriend says that you're his favorite!” A student yells, resulting in the whole class to chuckle.

I giggle at their immaturity. “Alright, alright, there's no need for that. Let's get back to Pride and Prejudice now, please?”

Before I know it, the day is done. I stayed behind grading like usual. Lately, I've been so behind in my classwork that I haven't had any time to myself. As a new teacher, I feel as though I have so much to prove, and I have a strong fear of letting everyone down.

A red pen marks a check across my paper as I continue to grade another assignment. My ears are met with the sound of a knock on my door.

“What are you up to here, pretty? It's 7:45 and the sun set hours ago. All the kids are probably just about finished with dinner. You need to get your ass outta here.” Logan tells me as he leans against the doorframe.

I take a quick break from grading to look at the clock on the wall of my class. “Its 7 already? Shit I didn't even notice. I'm just grading some things right now, like always. Seems like that's all I ever do.” I respond with a chuckle, not even lifting my head up to look at him.

Logan comes behind me and begins to rub small circles on my shoulders, massaging out any tension in my body. His presence alone fills me with comfort. The knots in my back loosen with every soft touch.

“Pride and Prejudice, huh?” Logan says as he notices the papers on my desk.

“Yeah I bet your old ass was there when it was written.”

“Haha. You're very funny.” He replies in a sarcastic tone. “Damn with all these knots in your back, I gotta ask if you've been sleeping on a pile of rocks? Who's stressing you out like this?”

A sigh escapes my lips, “I don't wanna sound like I'm complaining or anything because I'm more than happy that I get to work here…it's just…all these papers are really stacking up on me…”

He continues to break up the knots in my back. Another red X on my paper. Then I feel Logan leaning down to whisper something into my ear. “Y'know with all this stress… I think you deserve a little somethin’. Lucky for you, I just went to town and restocked for us.”

I finally take a break from hunching over my papers and turn to him with a smile, already knowing what he had planned. “You don't say, Professor Howlett?”

“Yes ma’am. Got it right in my room. How bout we roll up and then after I'll help you with your papers? We can get 'em all done, even if it takes all night I'll stay here and finish for you. Promise.”

The gesture warms my heart. “That sounds perfect,” a groan leaves my lips, the stress escaping with it, “I appreciate that so much you don't even understand.”

“Yeah yeah, now c'mon and go roll cause you know I'm shit.”

We make our way down the long dimly lit halls to his room and quickly close the door behind us. Logan and I have been smoking together ever since he found me alone with a joint late at night, during one of the first weeks I was here. I'm surprised he even found me because I was hiding out on the roof of the school. Knowing him, he must've sniffed me out, hoping to get some. He told me he wouldn't snitch to Charles if he could smoke with me. I know that he wouldn't have told me either way, but I happily invited his company, especially since I wasn't familiar with anyone here yet.

These late night smoke sessions made our relationship grow stronger. We would hop from topic to topic as the smoke left our lips. Sometimes, covering our childhood, our favorite shows, war stories, gossip, and then laughing to the point of tears the next moment. He found out where I buy from, and ever since that day, he has refused to let me buy my own weed. I tried to tell him that he didn't have to do that, and he said that as long as I rolled for him, then he didn't mind.

He told me that the singular time he attempted to roll it was to impress this girl. He ended up unsuccessful, to say the least. The joint ended up covered in spit with half of the weed on the floor. By the time he told me the end of that story, my face was covered in tears of laughter. This is when I knew that this would be the beginning of a genuine friendship.

The joint is finally finished as I seal it with my tongue. Logan and I only smoke together when it's late at night and everyone is in their own respective spaces. Sneaking around like I'm a kid hiding the fact that they smoke from their parents is honestly kind of fun. It fills me up with just the right amount of adrenaline, and I'm happy that Logan is the one beside me.

We make our way to the roof, and the bright moon greets us. The night sky is clear and filled with gorgeous constellations. The chilling breeze of the night tickles my skin as I take a seat. Of course I forgot to bring a jacket. I try to hide my shiver and lessen the sound of my chattering teeth, but Logan quickly notices. He shifts to take off his brown leather jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. The warmth of his body heat was still trapped in the jacket, and it quickly comforted my senses.

“Logan, you're gonna be cold.” I pleaded.

“ I'll be just fine. Can't have you freezing to death now. Then I won't have anyone to roll for me.” He jokes.

I let out a chuckle as I took the joint out of his coat. Logan holds the lighter to the joint and cups his hands in order to hide the wind from the fire. The lighter makes a clink sound and sparks. The comforting scent fills up my nose as I take a huff. I release the smoke with a happy sigh.

“God, I needed this so much you wouldn't even understand.” I responded. My attention rests on the beautiful night stars.

I passed it to him after a few more hits. Our fingers touch, the feeling heats me up. No matter how cold it is, Logan always manages to stay hot. The joint gives me the courage to rest my head on Logan’s shoulder. The joint lets out a small sizzle as he takes a big inhale.

“Trust me, I know, sweetheart. You've been frantic all week, and I notice it even though you're damn good at hiding it.” He takes another hit in between sentences. “Plus,” Logan then suddenly takes my cold hands and intertwines my fingers with his own, “you bite your nails like crazy when you get stressed.” I look down at our joined hands in shock, trying to contain how much this is affecting me. I quickly bring my attention back to the stars in an attempt to hide my emotions. Logan and I have always shared these small touches but nothing as romantic or intimate as this before, and definitely not for this long. The tension between us has always been there, but it's easier to ignore it than shed a light on it.

The smoke leaves his lips before he passes it to me again. “Yeah I know. It's always been a bad habit of mine when I get a little anxious.” I take the j up to my lips with a long drag. With each hit, I hope that it will make my nerves melt away.

Suddenly, a soft peck is laid on my hand. This action draws my attention away from the shimmering constellations. I'm greeted with kind hazel eyes staring back at me. Logan's gaze is intense as he pays attention to my reaction. “You can't keep doing that. You know it's bad for you.” He gently tells me. Logan’s lips attach to my hand as he lays another peck. He does this as if he could take my stress away with a single kiss.

My attention is drawn to his lips as I watch him slowly drop our hands. His red glassy eyes never left my own, which were magnetized to his lips like magnets. He has me right where he wants me, and I'm more than happy to be here. I have him right where I need him. Logan’s passionate gaze leaves my breath shaky and my body fuzzy. The air is thick, and the nerves aren't going away.

“You're babysitting the joint. Are you gonna hit it or just keep holding it, darling?” He asks me, breaking me out of my thoughts. Logan always looks good, but he especially looks good when he stares at me with those low hanging glossy eyes.

“What? Oh yeah! Sorry about that, here.” I let out a breathy giggle as I passed him the joint.

He simply responds with a laugh before inhaling the smoke. Logan knows what he's doing to me. He's pulling my strings like a puppet, and I'm loving every minute of it.

In an attempt to break up the tension, I turn to Logan. “Enough about me. How are your classes going? It must get tough balancing missions and classes sometimes. I don't know how you do it, to be honest.”

“Yeah it can get you worked up a little. I've been doing it for a while now, though, so it's definitely less of a hassle than it used to be. Some missions still knock you out, though.”

“Yeah I can only imagine how that must be. Some of the missions you've told me about are absolutely insane. Can't believe you come back from all that and still teach, too."

“Well it helps when you have a pretty literature teacher holding it down while you're gone.”

I smile up at him as a laugh escapes my lips. “My God, Logan, what is up with you tonight! You got a little crush on me or something?”

“Pshhh. Don't get a big head now. You're a cocky little thing, aren't you?”

“I might be cocky but you're the one adding fuel to the fire.” I responded. The effects of the weed are hitting me strongly. My relaxation brings me the confidence to take his hand and hold the joint up to my lips. I keep eye contact with him as I draw in the smoke. He smirks down at me as a result of the action.

“Y'know I've been thinking…”

I cut him off, “Oh no, that's never good”

He looks at me with a face of fake annoyance. “With all of this stress you've got going on, it would be nice to escape for a bit. Get away from these kids for a day and hit the town on the weekend. Maybe even get some dinner.”

“Wait a minute…are you asking me out, Professor?’ I ask him with a smile on my face.

“That depends on your answer, Professor.”

“I think I can fit some time in my very busy calendar for little ‘ol Logan.”

“Aww how sweet of you.” He jokes back.

He holds the joint up to my lips and watches as I breathe in the smoke. Any kind of anxiety I had before is gone now. The air shifts and is now filled with a different kind of tension. Stars reflect in Logan’s red eyes. I stare back at him as his eyes follow my lips. I'm filled with happiness to know that he wants this just as much as me. A soft hand cups my jaw as he brings his head closer to mine. My nose is filled with the scent of Logan and weed. Our warm breaths entangle each other in the cold night.

“Gimme some.” He tells me.

I release the smoke from my lips, and he quickly attaches his lips to mine. He inhales my smoke and quickly unlocks his lips from mine, exhaling the smoke.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Anytime.” I whisper back. My heart is beating out of my chest. Everything he does to me heats up my soul. That familiar fuzzy feeling greets me in between my thighs. Logan is getting tired of restraining himself, and it's easy to tell. I'm sure he can hear the way my heart erupts for him. I love this game he's playing.

Just then, he takes his hand and guides it to the back of my neck. Looking into my eyes for reassurance, I respond with a nod. Just like that, he kisses me. The kiss is strong and concentrated. Everything about the way he moves tells me that he's been wanting this for a while. His kisses are sloppy in all the right ways. Logan flicks the joint off the roof without a second thought, knowing that he has something much more valuable in his hands. He gladly explores my body and groans into my mouth with pleasure.

Logan and I most definitely didn't get around to grading those papers that night.

[joyceyayo]

Stanford & Stanley Pines NSFW alphabet Pt. 1

A/n - there is some freaky shit, you’ve been warned.

A = aftercare (what they like after sex)

Ford: He gets flustered after, often embarrassed of things he said or did in the heat of the moment. But that won’t stop him from wrapping his arms around you and cuddling you to sleep.

Stan: If it’s a one night stand, I think he’s partial to leaving right after. Maybe a pat on the ass to say goodbye. but if be really cares for you hes all about aftercare. You often see him smirking after, cocky and proud of himself. He’ll almost always snap open a Pitt and light a cigarette, holding it to your mouth for a drag if you ask nicely.

B = body part (favorite body part of theirs and their partners)

Ford: He always says his brain, but if you say he’s annoying and cheated, he’ll give you his honest answer. Which is his chin; he never really thought about it until a girl from BMU said he had the perfect mouth and chin to sit on, which had him blushing every time he thought about it for weeks. And yes. All the girls there were that forward. So suffice to say, he got his fair share of pussy there. And he never minded his smile; he liked how you could always tell him and Stanley apart from their smiles. And you can’t disagree with any of this :)

Stan: His arms. When he hit puberty, he barely noticed and honestly disliked the broad shoulders and big arms he was developing a bit. It's just another thing for people to pick on him for. But one day, when he and Ford were next to each other in the mirror, Ford said something about, “How are we genetically identical, yet you’re the one who got dad’s arms?” Ever since, he didn’t seem to mind them.

C = Cum (where they like to cum ofc 😋)

Ford: Inside of you. All day. Every day. Not literally, of course. Or maybe…? He doesn’t know. What he knows is that all day every day, his brain is wracked with thoughts about stressful and dire shit he can’t control one bit… but when he fills you up, it’s like a switch is flipped that turns all of that off, and he’s just with you.

Stan: Tits, ass, face. The man isn’t picky as long as he gets to cum on you while looking right at you.

D = dirty secret (a dirty secret obviously)

Ford: This man steals your fucking panties. Used ones, too. You’ve found the panties you thought went missing accidentally left in his pocket while doing laundry. You playfully scolded him while slapping his arm with them, calling him a dirty old man. But you let up a bit because he was so cute when he got embarrassed about it, turning bright red and chuckling.

Stan: takes Polaroids of you sleeping after sex… he thinks it’s normal enough. He keeps them in his bedside table, and depending on how long you last, you will go for years oblivious to such photos.

E = experience (how experienced are they?)

Ford: experienced enough to make you feel great. I mean, he went to Backupsmore… I feel like they get freaky, but not Ford. Was definitely a virgin until college, but had his fair share of fun when he got there. One time took notes while watching an orgy. He had so many questions… not many were answered.

Stan: very experienced. When he was hopping from state to state trying out his brands, he was also trying out the women; he can't tell you how many times he'd got blown and ridden in the stan mobile... and he didn’t mind it.

F = favorite position (this goes without saying)

Ford: good ol’ fashioned missionary for Fordsy over here. He could give you love bites all down your body in that position for hours and probably will

Stan: doggy. He wants to pull your hair and pull your ass onto him. He’ll never get enough of watching his cock disappear inside of you, and that’s something you’ll just have to come to terms with ;)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Ford: Serious, he’s not thinking enough to joke around. He’s in a primal headspace where even if you made a joke, he’d just groan and shrug it off, getting back to work.

Stan: it depends on the vibe you’re giving off. If he feels like you’re being more playful, he’ll naturally act that way.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ford hasn’t even thought about it; he’s clean. And yes, absolutely, he’s grey all the way. If you do mention you don’t like his body hair, it will reward you with his most embarrassed and distraught look, but he’ll trim it up without a second thought.

Stan: He knows he has a lot of hair, don’t mention it. Around his 40s, he just stopped fucking caring. He thinks it was the shoulder hair that did him in.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ford: as intimate as you can imagine. He doesn’t just fuck Willy Nilly. He only gets into bed with someone he cares for. So there’s a lot of kissing and sweet talk from him, an ‘I love you’ every 30 seconds if you’ve said that to each other.

Stan: Again, it entirely depends on who he's with. If it’s more of a one-night stand, he’ll get a bit scared off if you’re too romantic. But if you’re together… you’re in for it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Ford: He does it to keep a straight head when he’s alone, without you, but overall, when he’s with you, he feels no need to do all that.

Stan: partook in it a lot when he was on the road, not in a way he ever did before. He did it not to think. But that was before you. When he’s away from you, he finds himself doing it while thinking about you, drifting into a fantasy where you are touching him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Ford: He hates to say it, but breeding. He can’t get enough of the primal feeling of cuming inside of you… and you don’t mind either.

Stan: cuffs. Maybe it’s all the times he’s been in them that it turns him on to be the one putting them on and deciding when they come off. (Of course, if you asked to get out, he’d do it readily)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Ford: He really quite enjoys the routine that may seem mundane to some, such as getting into bed with you each night and making love with you after a long day.

Stan: again, he doesn’t mind fucking in his car; in fact, he loves it. His seats go wayyyy back, too ;)

A/n more coming soon!

[worldly-fluster]

Snapdragon

Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC! Reader

Part 1 of ?

*This will be Non-Canon BTW it starts with Dragon!Sylus and goes into normal Sylus*

Warnings: Blood, cussing...I think that's it lol

**non-mc but will be called MC because it's easier to write than (y/n) every time 👍**

-The Start of Something Normal-

-1st person POV- changes throughout**

Have you ever wondered if there was something...more?

Something other than going to a 9-5 and paying rent with all you earned, there must be something else.

At least I had my games right?

-

Today is weird.

Just weird.

Ever since I woke up from a weird dream, that I can't even remember, I've been randomly smelling flowers.

Checked the LADS game, flowers.

Got ready for work, flowers.

Delt with customers, flowers.

But I'm the only one smelling it?

Maybe it's the stress, I'll just have to take melatonin when I get home.

-

As I walked through the front door of my apartment, coming home after a long day at work, I was greeted by dark silence. I hate living alone...

I sighed as I placed my keys on the shelves by my door and threw my heavy jacket on top of them. I limped slightly into my living room/kitchen, my feet hurting from standing all day. When I reached the couch, my nose was assaulted by the smell of flowers once again causing me to groan.

"What the fuck... Bruh." I plopped down on the cheap leather futon with a weeze, reaching for the bottle of melatonin gummies I threw on there the other night.

Popping two into in my mouth, I grabbed the iPad next to the bottle and opened up the Love and Deepspace app.

I smiled when I saw Sylus show up immediately on the screen, my heart doing a badump as I sang quietly along to the intro.

Finally getting onto the game, I went to the daily login that I forgot to get this morning, ignoring Zayne standing there in his Panda onesie.

After completing the normal, I didn't know what to do, so I went to check the memories. Only then did I remember I never actually watched the new Dragon Sylus cards...

From what I heard about them it seemed traumatizing. But I guess if I had nothing else to do?...I'm gonna regret it aren't I.

The smell of flowers hit my nose again, even stronger than before, when I tapped the first one I saw called 'Abyssal Blossom'.

As the memory loads, the iPad glitches and shuts off. Maybe I forgot to charge it and it died? The smell of flowers is almost overwhelming, as if I'm standing in a field full of them.

I started feeling tired, so tired that I could hardly stand up so I decided to just sleep for a while on the futon. I fell asleep quickly.

-

This dream?...felt familiar...and too real.

The scent of the flowers made more sense here, the field looking familiar...oh its almost exactly like the flower field you can see in one of Sylus' Dragon cards.

What was the name of it again? Abyssal something...

Oh whatever, these flowers are nice. The scent kinda comforts me, almost like a mix of vanilla citrus? With a slight hint of herbal lavender I think... I don't know I'm bad with identifying stuff.

This dream is quite detailed though, the flowers, the dirt, the nice cool breeze and warm rays of sun on my skin...wait, what's that? Looks like something flying in the sky? A big bird maybe...it's coming closer? Oh shit, what the fuck-?!

The air was knocked out of my lungs as I was picked up and yoinked through the air.

"Are you here to try to kill me?"

I blinked up at the...man? Are we flying??

"No?"

I wheezed out my answer, it sounding more like a question in my shock as I clung onto him. The man? narrowed his eyes at me.

Are those red eyes? And horns? Why does he look like Sylus?? Wait, Dragon Sylus???

He seemed to search my face for something, his own relaxing a bit as he found what he was looking for.

"Then why are you in my territory?"

"I don't know, I just woke up here..."

"Woke up here? Who, in their right mind, would come into my territory for any reason?"

"I don't know...I just remember falling asleep at home and waking up in this field. It's beautiful by the way."

"Hm..."

"What should I call you? I'm MC."

"...Stayrus*" (Something that sounds similar lol)

"...How about Sylus?"

"Do what you want. It'll be up to me whether I answer or not."

"So...where are you taking me?"

"To my home, where I will be keeping an eye on you."

"Oh okay."

"Don't get any ideas human. I'm bored and I have been waiting for something interesting."

"I mean, I figured. No one just goes out and picks up a random stranger without being a little bored."

He grunts as he continues flying through the sky.

He brought me to a cave opening at the top of a deep canyon, he sat me down and lightly pushed me inside.

"You will be staying here until I say so."

"Alrighty. Any rules?"

"No...you are oddly okay with this."

"Well," I shrug, "it's either this or fend for myself in an unfamiliar place outside."

-

"Sylus?"

"..."

"Um...Stayraytus??"

"That was terrible."

"Sorry..."

"..." He sighs, "What is it?"

"So...I have zero survival skills...can you teach me how to survive here? Please?"

"...child."

"Yes...sorry."

-

It's been about a week since Sylus, yes he started answering to it, let me stay in his 'home'. He started teaching me some survival things, like how to find food, telling me to ask him first if the thing is edible. Other than that, it was...boring.

In my boredom, while Sylus lay on the cool cave floor surrounded by gold, I started stretching.

Touching my toes, bending to the side, balancing on one foot like a flamingo...you name it, I was trying to do it.

I was in the downward dog position when Sylus spoke.

"What are you doing?"

"...yoga?"

"...yugo."

"Pffft-" I couldn't help but laugh a bit, "it's Yo-gah."

"...why are you doing whatever that's called?"

"It's so my body doesn't get stiff."

"...how old are you?"

"23."

"..."

"...Don't you dare say it."

Sylus grunted as he went back to messing with his golden lamp thing.

After a bit of silence he spoke.

"I'm 27."

I looked up at him in a little surprise.

"Really? You look my age honestly."

"hm."

-

We were sitting by the entrance of the cave, watching the sunset, when Sylus broke the silence.

"Your hair..."

"What's wrong with my hair? Is there knots? I swear I got them all out earlier..."

"No, it's just different."

"What do you mean?"

"everyone I've ever seen had lighter hair...yours is darker. It's...pretty."

My face felt hot as I turned away from him.

"Oh, thank you...no one's said that about me before."

"Why not?"

I shrug.

"I'm sure that you get called pretty, beautiful, every time someone sees you, I mean, you're pretty attractive...I'm going to shut up now..."

There was a bit of silence until he spoke, looking over my face.

"No one has ever called me any of those things before..."

"Oh...well I still think you are. Those people are just blind."

"...Thank you."

I smile at him.

"Any time."

A comfortable silence settled over us but I couldn't take my eyes off of him if I tried. His hair looked so soft and fluffy...

"Hey Sylus?"

"Hm?"

"Can I...touch your hair?"

He looked questioningly at me, one of his brows raised.

"Why?"

"It looks so soft, but you don't need to say yes. I was just curious."

Sylus looked to the side, seeming to think for a moment before he looked down with a small smile, giving a small nod before he lay stretched out and placed his head on my lap, careful of his horns.

I let out an excited hum as I carefully ran my fingers through his hair, my nails slightly scratching his scalp. He grunted, not really used to this type of contact but...he thinks he can get used to this.

Sylus closed his eyes as he felt your hands work their way through his hair, around the base of his horns gently and lightly rubbing behind them in the hard to reach places. His chest felt warm, his heart fluttering as all he could think about were your hands, the warmth of your thighs...

He could definitely get used to this.

-

It seemed winter was fast approaching as the cave seemed to get colder, frost covering the edges of the entrance. I sat snuggled into Sylus' side.

"...What are you doing?"

"It's cold, it's called cuddling for warmth."

"... do as you wish."

His tail gently curled around us, pushing me just a bit closer.

"...it is getting colder out. We'll have to get you something warmer."

"Ah, don't worry about it. You're warm enough so I'll just have to stay right here."

Sylus grunted, his tail wrapping just a bit tighter. Just enough for me to notice.

-

The next day, Sylus was gone for a little while. I had to stay warm by my own makeshift fire, the dry sticks that were just by the edge of the cave entrance being my fuel.

While I waited for Sylus to get back I watched as the smoke went up through a small hole in the ceiling of the cave, wondering, how long have I been here? Where he could have gone? ...how much longer will I be allowed to stay?

After just a few more minutes, I heard the sound of his powerful wings as he landed at the entrance. He was holding a big bundle of... something.

He walked over to me and just, dumped what he was holding onto my head.

"Mph?!"

"This should work."

His tail moved the pile of burning sticks to the side before I could accidentally fall onto it with his gift still suffocating me.

Seeing me still struggling with it, he chuckled and plucked one blanket off my head letting me poke my head out of the pile.

"Guh! Why you do this?"

"English Sweetie."

"What is this?"

"Blankets, for warmth."

"...Thank you Sylus."

"Hm. Now scooch over, I'm cold."

"You're literally a walking furnace?"

"... I'm cold."

"Just say you wanna cuddle."

"...cuddle me."

-

As winter gave way to spring, the flowers started blooming again. The change in temperature seemed to make Sylus stir crazy.

I let out a squeal as his thick tail wrapped around my waist and pulled me along.

"Sylus! No!"

"Sylus yes."

"No!"

"Do you want to see the flowers or not?"

"...fine. But if you drop me, I will haunt you."

-

After a short flight, Sylus landed at the field of flowers he found me in. I looked around, having not had the chance to fully look around before being whisked away, when I saw something that made me gasp.

"Oh! Look, there are Snapdragon's!"

I moved towards them, Sylus staying close to my side.

"What? There aren't any other dragons here."

"No not actual dragons, Sy, they're a type of flower."

I move so he could see it better.

"This is a snapdragon!"

"That looks nothing like a dragon."

"It kinda does, see? This is it's eyes, nose, horns, and this!"

I push the sides of the flower together, making a small opening into the flower.

"Is it's mouth! Cool right?"

"... dragons don't open their mouth just because you touch their cheeks."

"These ones do. Try it! It's fun."

"Fine."

I watched as he moved his claws around the flower, actively trying not to damage it, but failing.

"Sylus you have to be gentle." I giggle as he accidentally crushes the flower between his claws.

"Here, use the pads of your fingers instead."

I hold his hands as I help him gently open the Snapdragon's mouth. His breath seemed to stutter as he let me guide his hands.

"There, you did it!"

"Hmm..."

In a small burst of confidence, I giggle and lift my hands to his face where I gently press on his cheeks.

"Good job!"

His eyes widen slightly and out of reflex, or shock, his mouth slightly opens.

"You know, you're my big Snapdragon."

-

After we made our way back to the cave, I had a thought.

"What if I end up going back some day?"

"Back where?"

"My home, like how I woke up here, will I one day wake up back home?"

Sylus seemed to stiffen a bit as he looked towards me, eyes searching my face.

"...do you want to go back home."

"I don't know, some days I miss home but most days I forget."

"I understand...what if you never go back?"

"Then I hope you'll let me stay?"

"I'll be here."

There is a long comfortable silence as we watch the sunset from the mouth of the cave once again. I took in a big breath of the freshest air I'll ever have and enjoy the moment.

"Sylus? Can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"If I do end up leaving somehow, I want you to find things that make you happy, not just surviving but living."

His tail flicks a bit behind us.

"...fine, as long as you promise the same."

-

A few days later we were at the flower field once again.

The sun set and we continued to sit amongst the flowers after a long day of lazing around. The stars slowly came out one by one.

While I watched the stars it reminded me of a song that gets stuck in my head.

"You and I stargazing...intertwining souls..."

I quietly sang, trying not to disturb the quiet night.

While I looked at the stars and the moon that hung beautifully, Sylus looked my way with a slightly raised brow, curious.

"What's that?

He whispered his question, his rough voice surprisingly soft.

I gave a small hum, still looking at the night sky.

"it's a song from my home... sitting here under the stars reminded me of it."

"Hm..."

"You know...the moon is very beautiful tonight."

"...yeah, it is."

He couldn't seem to look away from you, watching the moon and stars that reflected in your eyes.

-

I heard birds chirping as I slowly woke up from a comfortable sleep, feeling warm. I could smell flowers still. I tried to turn but a weight on my side stopped me.

I heard a deep grunt as the weight tightened around me and pulled me closer. A second weight being added onto my legs, seeming to curl around and in between them.

I groggily opened my eyes to be met with a familiar shiny red jewel, just barely grazing my nose. I moved my hands up from their place by my stomach up to the jewel. I leaned my face into the jewel and snuggled closer.

I could feel a soft rumbling coming from the dragon I was cuddled to, having realized it was him from the warmth he gave me.

"It seems we fell asleep..."

His voice was deep from sleep, his clawed hands pulling me closer. The scent of flowers being drowned out by his smell. Scent like a bonfire and leather.

"We're still in the field?"

"Yeah...I didn't want to wake you."

I felt his warm breath on the top of my head, taking in my own scent.

He...he's definitely used to this. He never wants to let you go. You gave him a warmth he thought he would never receive, showed him care and treated him not as the monster everyone screams he is. With you, he's not a Fiend. He's Sylus, your Snapdragon.

-**

It was only a few moments...

That's all it took.

One second, you both were walking through the field towards home when there was a sharp sound. Sylus reacted almost immediately, dodging the claymore that sliced into the dirt where he was just seconds ago.

He barely let out a breathe before the assailant attacked again. He dodged once more before he heard.

"Sylus! Help!"

His head snapped towards the direction of your voice. What he saw made his blood boil. You were being pinned to the ground by a big burly, ugly, man.

"I got you!"

In his moment of distraction, the one attacking him hit him with something like magic. Golden chains wrapped around him, pinning him down. He heard a laugh as a woman walked into his sight, she was a sorceress and she had an overconfident smirk on her face.

"Time to face your fate, Fiend!" She laughed out, "honestly, I thought you were stronger than that. How disappointing."

"Fate?! What fate?!"

Sylus heard you struggling, making him start to struggle as well so he can get you out of here.

"Now now," the sorceress tutted towards him, then turned towards you, "His fate is to die by my claymore. Simple."

"That's his fate?! Bullshit!"

"You can't change fate-"

"Like fuck I will!"

You cut her off, just as you knocked the large man off of you with a quick kick to the groin. When you were free you threw yourself between her and Sylus.

"Just watch me."

You smirked as you watched her eyes widen and she took a step back.

"MC! No!"

Sylus struggled with the golden chains of magic holding him down.

"Don't worry Snapdragon...I got this."

"Stop! This is not-"

"Too late, already did."

-**

I grunt as the claymore goes through my chest, I can feel the intense pain for only a moment before it seems to disappear. The claymore is lodged in my chest, a ringing going through my ears. Sylus' eyes widen as it feels all the air is taken from his lungs when he sees the end of the claymore exit your back.

"MC!"

"Hahaha! Now what are you going to do Fiend?!"

"I'm going to fucking kill you!"

I heard a growl and the sound of something breaking but my mind goes a little fuzzy as a fight rages on, roars of anger and grunts reach my ears along with the sounds of a blade and claws. I could faintly hear the sound of tearing flesh.

All I could do was stare at the claymore still embedded in my chest, my hands too shaky and weak to pull it.

For a moment I thought the last things I would hear was the fight until-

"MC-"

Sylus slides over to me, his bloodied claws gently holding me. His wounds are already healing over as his panicked eyes look me over.

"MC, she's gone, you don't have to worry now. I got you."

"Sy..."

"Shit..." His voice grew hoarse, his eyes and hands shaking slightly as he tried to figure out a way to help. He seemed to find an idea as his brow set in determination.

"We need to resonate, my healing could help you but we need to resonate, now."

I nod slightly and he grabs my hand gently with one of his as his other gently tries to remove the claymore. I could feel his claws shake a little as he closed his eyes but I didn't want to close my eyes yet. I didn't want it to be the last time I did, so I watched as his power and a power I didn't know I had, connected. When I concentrate I can feel his anger, his fear, and something else I couldn't place. I watched as the claymore fell out of sight, his now free hand coming up to cup my face.

He leaned closer, our foreheads lightly touching.

I could almost feel my flesh mend, but the pain was numb to me as I kept my eyes on his face. I saw his brows furrow, his lips thin in what looks like pain-our shared pain, his eyes stayed closed in concentration.

After a moment more, I felt complete. I let out a sigh as the resonation slowly disappeared, my eyes fluttering closed a moment before I fixed them onto him. I watched as his eyes slowly opened, his nose grazing mine as his eyes locked on mine.

"You aren't going anywhere. Not without me. We live together and we die together. Only you can kill me, and I you."

There is a slight glow to his eyes and the gem in his chest as he stares into my eyes, into my soul.

"Sylus-"

"You're stuck with me. Who else will teach me about your home?"

I shake my head with a giggle.

"What would I do without my Snapdragon?"

"Hm..."

"I'd probably die."

He glared at me for even joking about it, his hand gripping mine a little harder. The hand on my cheek pressed against me, forcing my forehead to press onto his a little more.

"Even if I wasn't here, I would do everything to make sure you stay by me."

"That doesn't even make sense." I laugh.

"You know what I mean." He smiles as you bring a hand to his face, rubbing your thumb of his cheek to get some dirt off. He leaned into your touch, his eyes full of warmth as he continued to stare into your eyes.

After a moment I pull away and stand, Sylus standing as well. I look around at the now destroyed field, a pang of sadness hits my heart...

As both of us take in the aftermath, an oddly familiar scent hits my nose...when suddenly my body starts to glow slightly.

"Wait, Sylus what's happening?"

"I don't know, come here."

This feeling I get from the soft glow feels familiar...my eyes widen when I realize, the smell...

"Sylus!"

"MC?!"

We reach out to each other but the moment his clawed hand touches my hand, a bright light shines and I'm gone.

-**

Nothing is left of her as the light completely disappates

"MC?!"

Sylus turns this way and that, wanting- needing to see just a glimpse of her. His tail whipping around wildly as he floats around in a panic, clawed hands reaching for something, anything.

"MC!...Where..."

Sylus stops for a moment, slowly landing on the cold ground beneath him before collapsing to his knees.

He throws his head back as he lets out the most broken yell that could be heard for miles.

He looked to the side when he ran out of breath, his chest heaving as he let out a whimper. He saw that claymore, laying coldly on the dirt. Your blood still covered it, your scent still on it...

A few tears fell from his eyes as he reached out and gripped the handle. He pulled it towards him, curling around it slightly on the ground.

He lay there for what felt like forever to him, in the very flower field he met you...the flowers mostly crushed by the ambush of the sorceress that was sent to kill him with this very claymore.

When he finally had the energy to move, he went back to your shared cave, claymore in hand. Seeing the entrance made his flight stutter, knowing you won't be there to welcome him home...

He landed at the opening, he stepped heavily inside.

He saw your pile of blankets, the small fire pit you built, the little trinkets you collected from his horde that he let you have...

He stabbed the claymore into his old sleeping place then made his way towards the small stream that runs through the edge of the cave. He used the water from the steam to clean the blood off of him, yours, his, that damned sorceress...

After he was cleaned and dried off with the cloth you used to use, he made his way to your pile of blankets.

Sylus collapsed into them, burying himself in your scent, a wine leaving his throat as he held tightly onto what was left of you.

The dragon is lost without his master...

[mapicccc]

I feel like all the Derapicc stuff must be coming from Derap viewers taking his perspective on Mapicc at it’s word without really knowing much about Mapicc or actually experiencing a pov of someone he was violently obsessed with bc Derap is always framing Mapicc as being obsessed with him when he’s talking about him. Like honestly the whole idea of them as like a onesided triangle is beat for beat Derap’s perspective on them with his insecurity about Zam’s care for Mapicc and the way he insists Mapicc is doing everything Because he couldn’t kill Derap ages ago when neither Zam nor Mapicc have actually acted like that’s the case. Plus if you’re not really engaged with what Mapicc gets up to, that combined with fan interest in Mapicc doing horror movie shit to Derap might lead people to thinking Mape did more than he actually did when like. Mapicc did not give a fuck. He didn’t even try to kill Derap over and over he did it Once to vent his anger without having to hit Zam. The only area in which Mapicc’s hatred of Derap is special is the sheer lack of emotional investment in him which is like. Very funny. Mapicc explicitly does not want to share space with this dude and can’t even be assed to torment him if Zam isn’t involved somehow. He didn’t even wait for him before dropping the wardens. Mapicc was more invested in hating Jumper and Subz than he is in Derap, I’m glad people are having fun but Mapicc thinking of Derap as anything more than a temporary stress ball to redirect his anger about Zam leaving him onto and an annoyance he wants gone is an invention by Derapchu and the closest thing to affection he’s felt for him is the self-satisfaction at Zam catching Derap sneaking around and vindication that Zam’s perfect teammate that he replaced Mapicc with was trying to spy on them in secret, which he immediately makes about him and Zam again by bringing up his own ex teammate going behind his back. Anyways #hater.

ahhh this makes things make a lot more sense. alas, I have mapicc disease and am physically unable to not see things from his perspective at all times so it just. does not make sense. can't believe people don't get the mape.. he's literally mape....

[lastoneout]

OH MY FUCKING GOD??

We actually managed to get ahold of the doctor I saw last before I left yesterday(who I believe was my doctor for the whole stay) and he said that the nurse was either misinformed or straight up lying to me about what dose I was being given AND they denied me medication he prescribed!!

Apparently, they usually start patients with 5mg of oxycodone once they're in their rooms after surgery and IF THAT ISNT ENOUGH they are instructed to give me another dose to bring me up to 10mg and if it wears off I should have been given more even if it was within six hours, so yeah the nurses not only TOLD ME I was being given 10mg when I fucking WASN'T, they were ALSO SUPPOSED TO GIVE ME MORE MEDS THE SECOND I SAID WHAT THEY'D ALREADY GIVEN ME WASN'T HELPING OR IF THEY WORE OFF EARLY AND THE WHOLE "YOU ONLY CAN TAKE IT EVERY 6 HOURS EVEN IF IT WEARS OFF AND YOU'RE SOBBING AND AT A 10" THING WAS HORSESHIT.

The pharmacy ALSO did not fill all of the scripts they were given?? The doctor told us that on top of the pain meds he prescribed miralax to help with the ungodly, agonizing bloating I'm dealing with AND A MUSCLE RELAXER TO HELP WITH THE PAIN neither of which were given to me OR EVEN PUT ON MY DISCHARGE PAPERWORK.

The Doctor not only apologized profusely, he said he's going to talk to the nurses I had and let them know what they were doing was directly contrary to his instructions and that isn't fucking okay, and up the dose of the painkiller with a new script since the current one just isn't helping enough and the only thing I have to do is bring in and swap whatever I have left of the old ones, AND make sure the muscle relaxer and miralax get filled!!

He also let us know the setting my shunt is at, the headache I have is normal but if it gets really bad or lasts more than a few days (or if I just feel like something isn't right) that I should call back or just go to the ER, that I should be drinking 64oz of water a day as well as whatever electrolyte drinks I want, AND I can have coffee which should help, and sprite or ginger ale or anything I think will help with the nausea.

I take the shit I said about the doctor back HE knew what the fuck he was doing, the nursing staff and pharmacy just fucked the hell up for whatever reason. Which like...ngl given that two of the nurses were standing in the hallway, ignoring my repeated requests for help and the fact that I was literally sobbing in agony at even the lightest touch in favor of shit talking me!! I feel like maybe we had a case of at least some of the nurses being assholes for no reason. I will probably never know why but I do have a buzz cut, am giving off undeniably queer ass vibes, and had gay pride buttons on my bag, I live in Arizona, and I'm almost certain my gender in the system is set as nonbinary so....I can say for sure but it does makes me wonder.

(Honestly tho it's probably just them being understaffed and stressed and the whole "med school essentially teaches you that all patients are so stupid you can't trust anything they say AND drug addicts waiting to happen" thing and/or the fact that the worst people in the world will always seek out positions of power and being a nurse is a great way for terrible people to gain concerning amounts of power over vulnerable people.)

I'm still never going to this fucking hospital again unless I have literally no other choice tho. They have a long history of treating me and my family like complete and utter shit—like the horror stories I could tell I s2g they nearly killed my mom due to neglecting her severely infected leg for TWELVE HOURS—that place is run by people who literally only care about profit and staffed with the worst, most cruel and careless nurses I've ever met(and that sucks because they are partnered with the local university so basically ALL nursing students in my city train there) and the few that do give a shit are so stressed and miserable they can barely provide care at all.

Christ alive. What a fucking hellhole. Glad I was right about these last two days being a nightmare of bullshit and I never, ever should have been treated that way. Small comfort, but it's still a comfort.

Anyway I'm gonna go take my new, correctly dosed meds, eat something, and take a nap o7 sorry for all the venting, hopefully this is the last of it.

[dragqueenstarscream]

time to kill the vibeeee 12 17 20 tfp starscream 🔫

I LIVE! sorry for not answering, needed sleep and then had to clean off the driveway. anyway! time to nuke the vibe!

12 - genuine cruelty. he puts up with enough of it on a daily basis from megatron and the other decepticons. he can handle that at work, but if he returns to his berth and finds that his partner treats him like shit, that won't fly.

apart from that, he's not a fan of filth. he may not be knock out, but he's pretty vain and takes care of his appearance, and he expects his partner to do the same. i'm not saying you have to smell like roses and fairy dust 24/7, and he's pretty understanding if you're dirty from battle or sweaty from exercise, but if you look like you got dipped in bacon grease and smell like mold, he's gonna notice.

17 - it was probably after he'd gotten ripped a new one by megatron again. he came back to his berth thinking that he needed to be on top during sex to relieve some stress, but... it didn't really feel right. he ended up having to quit halfway through because he was so tired from the events of that afternoon. turns out, he just really needed some comfort. it ended in him laying his oversized head in your lap, venting about his day. maybe an unsatisfying ending to the night, but hey, he's just grateful to have you.

20 - absolutely no bringing up other bots, ESPECIALLY megatron. that's a surefire way to get him jittery and anxious.

don't go too far with pain. he can handle some, but don't do anything that he'll have to go to knock out to get fixed. not only does it mar his looks, it's also embarrassing to explain, and not in a fun way.

also, don't go overboard with humiliation. calling him whore, slut, princess? that's fine. he's into that. but get too angry, insult his character, call him a waste of a bot, things like that, and he'll get genuinely anxious to the point where he has to stop. rule of thumb: if it sounds like megatron would say it, don't bring it up in bed.

[kaiskornerart]

(UPDATED) OUTSIDERS HEADCANONS!

i fear im insane

PONYBOY CURTIS

 • Ponyboy, after Johnny and Dally died, rummaged through a drawer of old doodles he had. He found the old doodles he used to draw of Dally, and he decided to keep those doodles with the note Johnny had given him. He also drew a picture of the two of them so he never forgot what his friends looked like. 

• bro isn’t straight. bi or pan

 • (modern) LOVES TikTok. Forces his brothers and friends to do stupid trends with him. He and Sodapop do dances together. 

• Unlike most teenagers, he didn’t want to get a car or a driver’s license. He hates driving, since all he can think about in a car is how his parents died.

 • He likes musicals. No he doesn’t admit it. He just likes the storytelling through music. His favorite is West Side Story.

• Afraid of the water. He used to love swimming, but now he hates it after Bob nearly drowned him.

• The way someone knows Ponyboy trusts them is when he info dumps about anything and everything. When Ponyboy info dumps about his interests, he’ll think you’re a safe person. The person he info dumps to most is Johnny.  

• Ponyboy and Johnny’s dynamic is 100% Ponyboy yaps and yaps and Johnny listens intently. 

• Grows up to be a well-renowned writer. 

• Ponyboy was closer to his mother. He was teased by the gang for being a momma’s boy. He’d help her cook, do laundry, and bake with her. He loved doing anything and everything with his mom.

• He has glasses, just doesn’t wear them around the gang because they always tease him for how nerdy he looks. Only wears them at night and when he’s reading, otherwise he will have to have everything basically up to his nose to read things.

• Has a diary (calls it a journal to seem more tuff). Was recommended to start journaling by a therapist he started seeing after Johnny and Dallas died. It really helps him understand his thoughts and feelings about everything. 

• Doodles on the cuffs of his jeans. Uses pen most of the time, and Darrel scolds him for using pen on his jeans.

• Continued to dye his hair blonde after Johnny died.

• Wears Johnny’s old denim jacket still, feeling closer to him that way.

• Since Curly Shepard knows sign language, he taught Ponyboy how to. They’ll sign to each other to talk shit about people they both don’t like (I can imagine them being incredibly messy)

SODAPOP CURTIS

 • Sodapop can play guitar and he can sing.

 • Sodapop wears a necklace with a guitar pick on it. That pick belonged to his father, and he wears it as a reminder of him. 

 • Sodapop was taught how to play from his father. His father used to play songs to the boys when they were younger. Soda sings those songs to his brothers whenever they’re feeling stressed or upset. 

• He’s a brilliant songwriter. 

• He has ADHD

 • (oh and he’s bi idc)

• After Sandy moved away, Soda would write letters, but never send them. He’ll crumple them up and toss them away. This went on for about a month after she moved away. 

• Sodapop gets easily attached to new relationships. 

• Sodapop is a pretty crier. 

• Became more of a songwriter after Sandy moved away. He felt like he was bothering his brothers with talking about her, so he channeled his emotions into music. Darrel one time found Sodapop writing and singing, and waited outside the door to listen. Afterwards, Darrel went into Sodapop’s room to give him the biggest hug. 

• (modern) Sodapop LOVES Chappell Roan.

DARREL CURTIS

 • Darrel stopped celebrating his birthday after the Curtis brothers’ parents died. They died on his birthday after they went to get icing for his cake, so it’s just a bad reminder of what he lost. 

 • Darrel and Paul are bitter exes. 

• Darrel used to play football, and was the star player. He keeps his letterman jacket on his bed, thinking about the what-if’s late in the night.

• Says he uses Paul’s old madras shirt to clean his toilet, but he did keep it. Sometimes when he can’t sleep, he just holds it close to his chest.

• Darrel is pansexual. He has the mindset of whatever happens happens.

• (modern) Makes Sodapop and Ponyboy have Life360. And then made the rest of the gang get it, too.

• Darrel goes to his parents’ grave when he feels lost. Searching for some kind of comfort and help with raising his little brothers.

DALLAS WINSTON

 • Insanely protective of his friends. Someone looks at them the wrong way? He will want to fight them. 

 • Not a headcanon, but insanely self-destructive. Drinks a lot, smokes nearly a pack every day, drives recklessly. 

 • Lets Johnny and Ponyboy drag him to watch sunsets with them. 

• Secretly LOVES sappy movies. Hates that he loves them. He once watched a sappy romance movie with Ponyboy, Sodapop, and Johnny, and he teared up. When the others started to tease him about getting emotional, he socked Soda in the face. He denied it and still denies it.

• Secretly loves to read.

• Ponyboy once gave him a drawing he had done of him for his birthday. He brushed it off as stupid after Ponyboy had left, but whenever he was alone in his room, he’d stare at it, shocked that someone would even want to draw him. He keeps it in his wallet now.

• Dallas is scared to love and to be loved. 

• Never told his father he was leaving New York. He just snuck out in the middle of the night and hopped on a train, traveling through the country, making a few stops, until settling in Tulsa.

• (modern) Secretly listens to the pop girlies when he’s driving alone in his car. If you hear him screaming ‘Good Luck, Babe!’ or ‘You Belong with Me’? Look the other way. Only person who knows he does is Sodapop, and they’ll go for drives just blasting the music and singing along together. (Their favorite one to sing is ‘Please, Please, Please’)

• DALLAS WINSTON IS BISEXUAL. The type of guy to see anyone hot and be like “yeah that one right there.”

• Dallas is a LOUD snorer. Can wake up an entire neighborhood with how loud he snores. 

• Was really close to Mrs. Curtis. When she was alive, he wouldn’t get into trouble nearly as much as he does now. Ever since she died, he got into more trouble than ever. It’s why, at the beginning of the book, he just got out of jail.

• The necklace he wears was an old necklace his mother used to wear.

• He was arrested at the age of ten for a store robbery gone wrong with the older boys who took him in. He had tried to beg them not to take him, that he hadn’t done anything, but they saw him as nothing but a hoodlum. From that day on he decided if they wanted a good-for-nothing hoodlum, they’d GET a good-for-nothing hoodlum. 

JOHNNY CADE

 • Johnny’s gay. 

 • Johnny started wearing a ring (gifted to him from Dally [which he stole from a Soc]) while he was out, knowing now he could do some damage if someone tried to jump him again. . 

 • Mr. and Mrs. Curtis adored Johnny. They’d let him stay whenever he was having family troubles, and made sure he was well-fed. He was closest with Mrs. Curtis. Her death really impacted him. 

• WILL pet any stray cat he sees out on the street.

• Never celebrated his birthday. His parents would always call it ‘a waste of money’ and ‘the day their lives were ruined’. The gang all pitched in for Johnny’s sixteen birthday to throw him a small party at the Curtis house, which Johnny sees as one of the best memories of his life.

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

 • Whenever someone in the gang mentions something they want (i.e., beer, cigarettes, snacks), he will MAGICALLY have it the next day (steals things for his friends)

• Him and Marcia started secretly dating. He steals a lot of things for her. Flowers from a garden on the way to her place, sweets she likes, etc.

• Two-Bit sneaks through her window every now and then to see her. Marcia loves it, feeling like her and Two-Bit are in some kind of cheesy Romeo and Juliet story.

• Incredibly affectionate with Marcia, and she’s the same way back. Always has an arm around her, holding hands, or she’s sitting on his lap at the drive-in. 

• Met Darrel in school, and, by extension, met the gang. Him and Darrel were pretty close back then. 

• CanNOT sit in a chair properly. 

• Him and Marcia dressed up as Mickey and Minnie Mouse for Halloween. 

STEVE RANDLE

• Surprisingly, a really good baker. When he was younger, he and his mom used to bake together all the time (during his birthday, Christmas, etc.), so he picked up on baking when he tried it himself. He bakes Sodapop cookies all the time (especially after Sandy left him).

[fencecollapsed]

I'm gonna stop promising a Paul video at all actually, every time I think about it I stress myself out and I keep thinking of things I want to make more first. I'm realizing I just fully don't want to do it at the moment and I kinda feel more obligated to than anything. that's not how I want to make my stuff :/ it's not gonna be fun if I feel like I Have To. all I'm promising now is that I'll make Hatchetfield character studies when I want to and Paul will get one when I'm REALLY feeling it, which might take a while and also could be never hgjskgnd who knows! I don't! AAAAAAA

[atoriv-art]

older designs for my specialest guy

[afurtivecake]

kevin/ichirou in a way that's wildly unhealthy for both of them- for kevin it's like, for some reason it feels like he's cuckolding his dead, former best friend/brother/abuser in a way that all his other relationships have not felt like. and he doesn't understand why that thought isn't turning him off completely. for ichirou it's that he doesn't think he's the type of person to keep secret mistresses or cheat on his wife for something so stupid as lust, but he stumbles into the irresistible kevin-day-effect and suddenly he finds himself rationalizing why having sex with a man that he technically owns wouldn't be considered cheating at all. or gay, for the matter. ( it is; he's just homophobic) because 'cheating' would imply a threat to his marriage, which, how could there be when it's just some guy whose life belongs to his family. (it is; he's just in denial) and besides, half the things they do can't even count as sex (maybe not, but it's definitely weirder and kinkier).

[nintenka]

tgc after removing shared spaces at grandma’s table and making their players’ lives even harder with their ridiculous events placements and PRICING instead of fixing issues that have been plaguing their experiences since forever:

[chaosgremlim]

I’ll be completely honestly. I will judge you based on how you view Lottie Mathews. If you watch Yellowjackets and go calling her “psycho” “crazy” and judge her abhorent and manipulative for literally just having symptoms of her psychosis while UNMEDICATED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING WILDERNESS, I won’t trust you for shit.