#i love these ones -- they're SO SOFT!!!!!!!!

[marsprincess889]

How women influenced by different planets act in one-on-one relationships

Platonic, familial and/or romantic. Based on my own observations and traditional associations💕 planetary influence is present when a native has one or more nakshatras ruled by that planet in their big three(moon, ascendant, sun). If that or any other planet is conjunct sun, moon or ascendant in the chart, then it also adds its influence, but to a much lesser degree. I'd advise to read for your moon, but as always, use discernment and and do not take this information at face value.

Sun women

Krittika, Uttara Phalguni, Uttara Ashadha

The women ruled by the Sun are often seen as confident, self-possesed, bright, expressive and measured.

The Sun is well-known to be a masculine planet, that does not make sun-ruled women any less worthy in their femininity.

Sun women might be surrounded by a lot of male energy in younger years. It could have been positive or negative but all and all, they're familiar and quite comfortable with it. I don't mean they were plagued by admirers, I moreso mean they had a father figure, uncles, brothers/male cousins(usually older), male friends around them. I might be wrong but I've seen this so much in real life and in art. If that's not the case, then they can fit in and hold their own in a group of men. It's true that they're not phased by trying to be more masculine themselves(like jupiter women do sometimes) or to completely lean into traditional femininity(like moon women). They usually get love and support from men that have doubted them at first.

That leaves sun girls with an abundance of masculine energy absorbed in themselves. In one-on-one relationships they enjoy a level of independence but they value loyalty immensely. They build relationships on certain rules that come from their personal values. They look for a partner in crime and an understanding confidante more than anything else.

That's why saturn-ruled people are best for them, along with other sun-ruled individuals. Ruled by the planet of dedication and longevity, Saturn dominants understand their detachment and fixed nature, and provide the cold, hard structure for their self-expression.

Their energy is not for abuse though. They are more vulnerable and sensitive than most realize. As they are women influenced by a very masculine planet, they might feel like they're giving too much sometimes, like they're being taken for granted. As Saturn is the planet that never takes anything for granted and works for its rewards, it is not going to discard Sun's warm and "life-giving" nature. Moreover, it is going to appreciate it, respect it and try to keep up with it as best as it can. Saturn's cool and careful nature is soothing to Sun women, making them feel safe to lean into their individuality with more confidence while prividing the essential balance for a full existence.

Moon women

Rohini, Hasta, Shravana

Moon women have a simplicity about them. Traditionally a feminine planet, moon is considered to be a soft, smooth and nurturing influence.

Moon women are easy to recognize. Moon is probably the most dependant planet. They are passive in their demeanor and easily absorb influence. They often have a group of people around them, if not a group, then at least or not two, just because. That can be explained by moon's receptive but also giving nature, that gives back the smoothed, mixed essence of what it has recieved that is easily digestible. But they don't have that energy within them. They can be very accomodating while not initiating anything at all. If they do initiate, it's something similar to what the other person has initiated.

So moon thrives on dependancy. They might enjoy groups, because that way their passivity and receptivity is not held against them, and they might feel like they contribute more that way. In one-on-one relationships, they are very easy and simple, but might become stressed and on edge. Moon rules masses and the subconcious, so they need an energetically abundant planet that does not mind being drained.

Moon is, in its essence, is vampiric, so they like Sun people. They might be quite comfortable around Jupiter people, and sometimes, with Venus people(the Shravana- Purva Ashadha pairing works particularly well).

Mercury women

Ashlesha, Jyeshta, Revati

Mercury is the planet of integration and manipulation, and women ruled by it are often multi-faceted, containing the potential for adapting and the willingness to to often do so.

Mercury can be described as the "hermaphrodite" sometimes, especially Revati nakshatra. Due to this highly analytical and adaptible nature, mercury women have the ability to morph themselves into different roles, depending on who they are interacting with. Their feminine energy is based on receiving and then skillfully using whatever is given to it. Mercury is the planet that is quite different in all three of its nakshatra stages. Ashlesha, Jyeshta and Revati all have different feminine qualities, due to the three stages that they wrap up being different from each other. Venus nakshatras are different from each other too, but to a lesser degree. What all mercury nakshatras do have in common is sensitivity and skill. They change and adapt to various envirmonments, and their resourcefulness is seemingly limitless.

In one-on-one relationships they need people who can handle that "manipulative" and "nervous" nature. All yoni consorts of mercury nakshatras(Punarvasu, Anuradha, Bharani) have a theme of passivity, they all want and need that "manipulative" energy. Similarly, Mercury women themselves can thrive with people who are energetically stable/abundant but want to move and adapt. Since Mercury women have a need for stimulation and variety, they maintain relationships with people who they don't find boring AND can provide loyalty. There is no single planetary energy that is generally compatible with Mercury people, but Venus and Mercury are traditionally friends, and Venus also heals Mercury. The best example of this is Revati and Bharani(elephant yonis), but other combinations can be compatible too(except Ashlesha and Purva Phalguni, due to them being enemy yonis).

Venus women

Bharani, Purva Phalguni, Purva Ashadha

Venus_ the planet of beauty, sensuality and love is a well-known feminine force that is almost synonymous with the word.

Venus women are, before anything, choosy and exclusive. Their taste is very specific and particular, and whatever is "theirs", is theirs completely. Despite the outward serenity and composure, their internal nature is very fierce and even ruthless. That discriminating nature extends to everything in their life, where they have to be clear about the dividing lines of everything that they deem worthy, and everything else that they don't. There is also an inner drive to attain what they want/need/desire/love.

Their views on one-on-one relationships are unique, and they have very high standards, along with an attentive and giving nature. A lot of those relationships might have left them dissapointed. They seek a balanced give and take in any 1-1 bond. They might even blame themselves for not choosing correctly, since they're already very careful. They mainly want loyalty and support. As always, those relationships have to fulfill their personal desires. Someone considerate, attentive, and skilled is best for them.

There is no single planet type that will fulfill all three Venus nakshatras and most of their natives, but generally, Mercury people have what it takes to impress and keep them. They share a discriminating nature, but while Venus women are energetically abundant, loving and often passive(on 1-1), Mercury is actively "manipulative" and morphing into whatever Venus desires. The best version of this is Bharani and Revati(elephant yonis). Purva Phalguni feels best with Magha(rat yonis) and most likely will not get along with Mercurial Ashlesha(enemy cat yoni). Purva Ashadha is best with Shravana(vanar yonis). All Venusian lunar mansions are best with their uniquely preffered nakshatras. Besides them, they might form friendships with Ketu, Sun, Jupiter or Saturn nakshatras (with the exlusion of Purva Ashadha- Krittika/Pushya, Bharani-P.Bhadrapada and Purva Phalguni-Punarvasu pairs).

Mars women

Mrigashira, Chitra, Dhanishta

Mars_ the warrior planet that grants protection has been a symbol of masculinity since ancient times. That coorelation, although undeniable, does not exactly encompass the whole essence of that force, especially while considering women influenced by it.

Mars rules the energetic output_ how we spend our energy and life force. In many ways, Mars women, being the passive/feminine vessels for that triggering energy, are expressive and engaging. But unlike Mercury, that expression is geared towards the physical body. Unlike Venus, they do not have any inner discriminatory preferences that might make them that choosy. Their expression is very outward and shown on the surface, so while they can be confrontational or agitating with how they behave, they do it for protection, because that it their only mechanism of doing so.

Their heated but inwardly quite gentle nature can make them susceptible to unnecessary drainage. That's why they're another planet type that needs a giving person in 1-1 relationships. With them, a that person has to not only give, but have a true consideration of their sensitivity.

Jupiter people are famously best for these women. Jupiter natives can give their excess energy to them and ensure that their vulnerabilities are not abused. The two latter Mars nakshatras both have Jupiter nakshatras as yoni consorts and Mrigashira's yoni consort is Rohini_ a fixed but soft-natured nakshatra.

Jupiter women

Punarvasu, Vishakha, Purva Bhadrapada

Women ruled by the great benefic, the planet of greatness, plenty and godhood can be big personalities. Jupiter has seemingly infinite energy that wants to give without end, and often, they do.

Jupiter women have a very enthusiastic, almost aggressive niceness about them. They might have been surrounded and influenced by male energy since their early life like Sun women, but their true feminine power comes from being open while giving and receiving, especially when around individuals who they think need their "help" the most.

Jupiter women are the one planet type that feel the best in groups, even moreso than lunar women, and unlike them, since Jupiter wants to give to all, they might feel very uncomfortable in 1-1 relationships. That being said, they're not exactly opposed to the idea of it.

They will feel best with heated and draining planets, especially Mars. Mars can take Jupiter's abundant energy and use it to build and protect. They're famously a good pair, but other planet types can be just as compatible with Jupiter. Ketu people also have a desire to take Jupiter's energy but unlike Mars, they won't drain it to use it outwardly, instead, they'll absorb the energy completely and integrate it into their spiritual essence.

Besides them, Punarvasu nakshatra in particular will get along with Ashleshas, a Mercury nakshatra, due to them being yoni consorts (cat yonis).

Saturn women

Pushya, Anuradha, Uttara Bhadrapada

The cold planet of control and restraint is a passive but tough and unbreakable force. Saturn women find their femininity in stillness and silent, but resilient passivity.

Their strength is tested and it gains more layers through time. This kind of energy might become impossible to intimidate, so many might feel that Saturn women are never phased by life in general. More reactive or moldable people might distance themselves from them, even though on paper Saturn women are easy to like.

They find too much flux and chaos unbearable. Saturn's femininity is all about limiting and crystalizing whatever it receives, so the more stable that energy, the better Saturn women might manage in binding it, even though they can restrain and control any type of energy, no matter how messy.

Saturn ruled women might have dealt with a harsh, limiting, authoritative feminine energy in their younger years. They have learned how to manage themselves in various complicated situations. What they seek in 1-1 relationships is trust and loyalty, not too unlike Sun women. Saturn people are best with Sun people. Sun's warm influence will give their structure a heart and a "purpose". Sun is the planet that seeks out the cold, restraining influence of Saturn that matches its own stability and self-possession.

Since these women are the feminine variation of Saturnian energy, they might be extremely passive and unwilling to start anything themselves, but after they have something to hold onto, they can become actively bossy.

The similarly cold but also adaptable and changeable nature of Mercury might also be an easy and natural match for Saturn women. This pairing might be best in platonic or familial relationships, but the Anuradha-Jyeshta pair(rabbit yonis) is perfect in romantic couples too.

Rahu women

Ardra, Swati, Shatabhisha.

The north node of the moon, the dragon's/serpent's head is a shadow planet and only one half of the opposition that makes up the destiny of a person. The nodes are dependant on each other, and both of them are dependant on the moon. Even this fact gives them a very different kind of quality and essence. So, women ruled by them are a distinctive and very draining group of force.

Rahu women are the personifications of the illusion. For them it is easy to see and identify, to box and to define and label. They are adaptable, responsive, cerebral. There is a certain numb neutrality about them. They are very aware of and immersed in the material world. They can often become bored or overwhelmed by it. It is not unknown that Rahu ruled individuals might be prone to nervousness and anxiety.

Rahu women are easily susceptible to all kinds of influences, just because they absorb and then project everything around them. They can adopt behaviors from other people without noticing, but unlike Moon women(who also do this) they do not give anything back to anyone in particular, they just take it into their illusion and show it to everyone.

That is why they can be quite comfortable within groups. With personal, 1-1 relationships, difficulties can arise. They need a very particular kind of person that can handle their tense and sometimes chaotic nature and can direct their "hyper" essence towards something stable.

Ketu is the other half of Rahu and the only planet that can calm it down. The immovable and hot nature of its opposite shadow planet can help Rahu get out of the head stop its often actively paranoid behavior. Ketu can provide the spiritual substance for Rahu's material manifestations and can match its cold, active and outwardly discharging energy with its own heated, passive and absorbing essence. Obviously, the two pairs of them are yoni consorts, with Ardra(dog yoni) and Shatabhisha(Horse yoni) having Mula and Ashwini as yoni consorts, respectively. Swati can also easily get along with Ketu people, but Ashwini(enemy yoni) might be the exception. For Swati, the best match is its own yoni consort(buffalo yoni)_ Hasta, a very earthy nakshatra.

Besides Ketu, Rahu people can be very drawn to Sun people. Mythologically, Rahu always seeks to eclipse the Sun_ another discharging and active planet, the one that it wants to imitate. If, for example, a Rahu person also has a Ketu influence, due to already having that Rahu-Ketu balance, they might prefer Sun individuals who emanate that warm light from within themselves. In platonic relationships, Rahu people might find kinship with Jupiter individuals with whom they share an adaptible and "airy" nature, but can give their abundant energy to draining and discharing Rahu.

Ketu women

Ashwini, Magha, Mula

The other half of the dragon, the tail/body of the serpent, the absorbing shadow that rules over the past of the person. Also a shadow planet that drains and depletes, Ketu is the "conquerer" that establishes the very essence of a person or a thing. It is where an individual can find their true power, but also where there is a potential for great danger.

Ketu women are a very raw example of femininity. Their basic nature and behavior is the representation of femininity in possibly its simplest light. They absorb everything around them and instead of doing anything at all, they integrate it into their internal selves. Their power is their passivity. Their energy resembles a black hole_ a seemingly endless void that never seems to be satisfied.

They too have a numbness in them, but unlike Rahu, Ketu women might become overwhelmed with their own stagnant and heavy energy, struggling to properly express or define what they are, feel and know. Rahu can become confused from too much information, Ketu can become confused from a lack of it. In the end, they both might feel like they are missing whatever the other is/has. There is also a blindness to both of them, where each sees only their opposite side. But Ketu knows what it knows, and unlike Rahu, it does have stability. The danger with them is stubbornness, the inability to be moved by the outside.

Ultimately, Rahu people are the best match for them. Ketu women can be overly passive and unresponsive in most 1-1 relationships. They can "hide" and assimilate better in groups but with just one another person they can become extremely disinterested, if the other is not on par with them. Rahu can break its stagnancy and help Ketu women to push their energy outwards.

Besides Rahu individuals, Ketu women might be compatible with Jupiter people, since they have an abundance of excess energy that can give to Ketu's hungry and absorbing nature. Ketu also heals Jupiter. Another dynamic that is possibly compatible for them is with Mars-ruled individuals, due to Mars and Ketu being similar in nature, but this might work best in platonic relationships.

[darkestmetamorphosis]

THIS THIS THIS. It's just the perfect woman/incompetent man sitcom couple that's been the standard for literal decades, now with ukefication yay :|

Like can people just... write female characters as people it's not that hard! If you're trying to write a woman - whether that's an oc, or a canon character who probably already has a personality beyond what you're flattening her to - and all you can think of is either "girlboss" or "cringefail" with no middle ground; if you really cannot comprehend a woman being a normal three dimensional person, do some fucking introspection PLEASE. Stop taking inspiration from media and tropes and look at real live people

And the obsession with "queering" relationships is... ugh where do I even start. First of all that does not make it any more or less "pure" or whatever. Second of all if you have a straight man and a straight woman, they're still both straight no matter who's doing what in the bedroom

If one or both of the characters is queer though that's its own set of nasty stereotypes. If one or both of them are bi it's the "all bi men are feminine so they must also be (insert laundry list of infantilizing stereotype)"/"all bi women are badass girlbosses because they're Not Like Other Girls". If they're trans it's "penis=dom/vagina=sub" reducing them to their agab and parts they may not even want. Like it's misgendering with extra steps, in complete denial of things like bottom dysphoria, surgery, or the fact that maybe trans people might have more reason than most to be averse to the whole gender role reversal thing because having that expectation imposed on you your whole life really fucking sucks and it sucks even worse to be pushed back into the same box. Except the box now has a thin veneer of fake wokeness, repackaging the same old shit

And for all the people in the notes going "where are you seeing this" it's not even just on this webbed site, it happens irl too. ime it comes from the girls who say things like "all men are trash" and people who make nasty jokes/assumptions about me because they think I look like a ~smol uwu soft boi~

All the stereotyping aside, the vibe I get from these sort of dynamics is like... neither of the characters is even really into it? Like it's not about love, not even lust, it's just about power and dominance with no aftercare (because surprise surprise, they don't know how bdsm - including actual femdom - works) Like it's just there because the writer thinks it's the only way you can have a straight relationship without being sexist

can't vibe with the pathetic sopping wet generic sub boy man/pristine feminine perfect goddess woman dynamic people try to put onto every m/f pairing in existence. don't you want something more interesting? characters don't need to have perfect psychologist approved relationships in fiction obvs but it's just so boring. don't you want something in character? don't you want something more interesting?? oh she pegs him? and you write this in a way that implies penetration is about domination and power? wowee. never seen that one before.

[lnfours]

🍰 happy birthday!! i love your writing so much ♡ can i request for #2 + #12 from prompt list three? it's missing lando hours for me and him being clingy just gets me in the feels :")

thank u nonnie!! 🥹🥹 i hope you enjoy!! <33

prompt #2- when they're a big clingy baby who's cold on the outside but all pouty with you prompt #12- "i like the way you uplift me"

jordan's birthday sleepover!

the music in the house was loud, everyone talking loudly to be able to hear their conversations. you had found niran and ethan when you went to make another drink, stopping to talk with them in the kitchen.

little did you know, your boyfriend was currently scoping the house looking for you. he was tired and ready to go, the only thing on his mind was the idea of cuddling up next to you in bed and falling asleep.

but of course, he needed to find you in order to do that.

you were mid conversation when a pair of arms wrapped around your middle, "hey, baby."

you smiled, leaning into his touch as you tilted your head back to meet his eyes, not noticing the glances the other two boys shared. they had never seen this side of lando, the real side that not one everyone got to see. the side that showed off how he really was, a softie who was obsessed with you, not just their slightly intimidating boss.

"hey," you smiled, "sorry, i meant to come find you, but i ran into niran and ethan."

lando smiled softly at his friends, "i see that," his curls were tickling your cheek and you ignored the way he squeezed your middle a little bit tighter. the other two boys had found themselves in their own conversation, prompting lando to lean in closer to your ear to whisper softly, "can we go?"

you nodded, turning around in his arms. you noticed the one unruly curl that had fallen out of place, fingers moving to brush it back, "yeah, we can go,"

he smiled, taking the cup from your hands before replacing it with his own hand. he turned to his friends, "we're heading out, see you later!"

"see you, mate!"

"have fun you two!"

he was practically dragging you out of the house, you trailing behind him as you waved goodbye to some familiar faces. he unlocked the car once you were both outside, opening the passenger side door for you. you stood on your tiptoes, kissing him as a silent 'thank you' before climbing in.

the drive back home was silent other than the music softly playing through the speakers.

his voice was soft as his thumb stroked the back of your hand, "i guess i didn't realize it until now, but i like the way you uplift me. like how you make me feel, how you're always there."

you smiled, bringing the back of his hand up to your lips, "i love you, lan,"

"i love you more, baby."

[imaginespazzi]

Alright let's talk about it because I think I've crashed out enough to be coherent now...maybe

BECAUSE THIS:

THIS IS INSANE

Precious. Princess.

PRECIOUS. PRINCESS??

The heart around the Madison Reed picture? The way their bodies are pressed so close together in the fair picture (+ also just the general acknowledgement again about how they spent the whole summer together), the head tilt in the graduation picture, the way Paige's head is dying to be on Azzi's should in the tennis picture (an unseen US Open photo like y'all don't understand) and finally the draft soft launch picture because that was clearly a huge deal to both of them.

LIKE YOU GUYS???

And then we get to exhibit 2:

I call this one "what your camera roll would like if Azzi Fudd was your girlfriend"

The closeup "Paige stop taking photos of me" with that soft gaze one? The Azzi in her natural environment being domestic as fuck making cookies one? The revenge "you posted me sleeping so I get to post you sleeping" + confirmation that Azzi is in fact a passenger princess one???

AND THEN THE CAPTION???? SILLY. GIRL??

IT'S JUST ALL SO INSANE

And of course it doesn't stop there because she has to acknowledge the reason they're in each other's life which is of course, their love for hooping

And this is the on that made me cry like oh my god they were such babies and now look at them?

And they're still just as in love as they were day one and it's all just so wholesome and wonderful and perfect

[just-a-ghost00]

A portrait of your ideal partner

Who's your ideal partner according to spirit? Do you think your vision of an ideal partner matches what the spirit realm reveals? Curious to find out ? Select one of the following characters. For each group, I divided the deck into 3 parts : major arcanas, court cards, other minor cards. The major arcanas will represent the archetypal qualities of the person, the court cards will represent their physical aspect and the other minor arcanas will represent aspects of their personality that are more hidden. The theme for this reading will be Disney's Lion King.

Group 1

Major arcana | The Chariot

The Chariot is associated with the sign of Cancer, ruled by the Moon and ruler of the 4th house. This archetype is water influenced. Qualities that would be associated with this archetype would be the following : dynamic, caring, understanding, compassionate, empathetic, proactive, loyal, observant, home body, family person, sensitive, dreamy, creative, moody, overly cautious, has pessimistic tendencies, can be clingy and manipulative, tends to overthink. Your ideal person according to spirit would be someone that is viewed by society as a good parental figure, someone that is a good listener and blends well within society. A person that doesn't cause trouble and understands the need of acting and thinking as one. If we take a very rigid approach to things, someone that as a man would be viewed as shy, reserved, loving and sensitive. A bit of a lover boy energy, maybe someone that wouldn't be considered as "manly" by society because of their pronounced sensitivity. A pure gentleman. If we consider "women" from society's point of view, a person that would be described as "feminine" : the typical loving mother archetype that people expect to stay at home watching over the kids and taking care of the house while being absolutely lovely and always pampered. Of course this is very cliché, but again, we're talking about archetypes. These tend to be stereotypes. Your ideal person could be someone that has a lot of artistic hobbies, someone that isn't afraid to express their emotions and be vulnerable in your presence. In terms of physical traits, a person that has a lot of softness to them. Someone young looking, with round features and curves, a fond smile and sparkling eyes. Maybe someone with curly hair or kind of a fairy look.

Court card | Queen of wands

In terms of physical traits, spirit sends us the image of someone rather feminine looking, with luscious hair and a lot of warmth to their presence. They could be someone of a different ethnicity than yours. Overall, a very solar type of person. Someone that, on the oustide, looks very approachable, sociable, outgoing. Even if they're not. So someone that smiles a lot, that looks very open in their posture. A person that wears very colorful and bold clothing. Someone that takes very good care of their body, that has a lot of sensuality. So probably a person that works out or does at least one physical activity as a hobby. Someone that appears as warm, comforting, confident. So, someone with a trusty back and big arms that would give you the best cuddles. There's also a fondness to their eyes. When you look at them, you instantly feel like you're melting. Everything about this person's aura or appearance is inviting and tempting, makes you feel incredibly warm and protected. Someone quite tall, with a solid and athletic build.

Minor arcana | 7 of pentacles

When it comes to their personality, spirit wishes for you someone incredibly patient and reserved. Someone mature, that will not be afraid to wait for you and support you. A person that takes things slow and carefully, methodically. That does not rush to conclusions, that does not lose their temper when faced with an issue. A person that takes rational decisions based on solid facts. Someone that is careful with their money, time, actions. That will provide you with a safe environment in which you can bloom at your own pace. A person that is loving and generous, reliable, understanding of your limits. Someone that will walk along side you instead of ahead of you. A person that isn't afraid to work hard to ensure a healthy connection. Someone calm, grounded, that will take your opinion into consideration and value you as a person. Someone you could safely envision a future with, having your own family, if that was something you wished. Because this person would have all the required qualities and strength to make a reliable and amazing parent.

Group 2

Major Arcana | Justice

Justice is commonly associated with the sign of Libra, ruled by Venus and ruler of the 7th house of partnership. This archetype is air influenced. Qualities that could be associated with this archetype are the following : analytical, fair, witty, diplomatic, sociable, charming, cooperative, rational, indecisive, has a tendency of overthinking, sensual, can be irrascible and sometimes carefree, can be extremely cutting with their words. If we take a societal approach of the Justice archetype, we have someone that would be viewed as irreproachable, perfect. Well established, professionally accomplished, always neatly dressed and prepared in any situation. Someone well educated, efficient in their work, well spoken, that cannot be tricked or easily manipulated. Someone that can sometimes be ruthless and cold, especially in business. A person that lives their life ruled by their head and not their heart. A person that has a tough shell that protects them and is not easily swayed by life's struggles. Someone that is loyal, protective and goes by the rules no matter what. A person that will stand up for what they believe in. Someone that can be admired by others because of their ethic and charisma. A person that never backs down and never gives up. But also someone that has a lot of responsibilities on their shoulders because of that.

Court card | Queen of swords

The queen of swords as physical traits depicts an image of someone that may look emotionally closed off, similarily to the Justice archetype. A person that may appear as cold from an external point of view. This may be someone that wears a lot of suits, clothing that isn't that colorful but rather tight fitting and gives a bit of a strict vibe. This person could wear glasses. Give off a bit of a nerd vibe as well. Someone that is elegant, graceful. Kind of a cold beauty vibe. I kinda pick up on a bit of a scorpionic energy as well. An intense gaze that could be highlighted by long lashes, very graphic eyeliner and so on. A very pale skin. A prominent jaw. A bit of a frown. Someone that doesn't smile a lot. That may have a bit of a "RBF". Someone that doesn't hold eye contact a lot. That may look like they look down on people when they're just lost in their thoughts. A person with long silky hair, rather dark hair. Definitely a beard for men. Someone that looks dignified, maybe a bit haughty. Someone that would look like they come from royalty because of how they walk, how they stand. A person that could be mistaken as a statue or a model. But still with a very feminine quality to them. A cold kind of sensuality that leaves you frozen in awe at how surreal they look.

Minor Arcana | Ace of wands

In terms of personality, this person would be way warmer than what they let on. A person that is extremely driven, ambitious, passionate. A person that is fun to be around and that encourages you in everything you do. A person that can be your best friend. Someone that always sees the bright side of things and brings out the best of you. Someone daring, charming, adventurous. A person that has a bit of a unique way of thinking, a very unique personality. A person that likes competition and challenges. Someone that would bring out your inner child. A person that would make you laugh, remind you of how beautiful you are. Someone horny and kinky AF. A bit of a child sometimes, especially around you. Someone that would be soft only for you. A person that maybe doesn't like PDA but who would gladly accept it if it made you happy. Someone that would give you butterflies with every smile, every stare, every touch. That would never cease to love you. A very exciting person to be with, someone that would help you celebrate yourself and life. A person that is a bit of a trickster and has a cocky attitude that you just cannot resist.

Group 3

Major Arcana | The Sun

The archetype of the Sun is associated with Leo, ruled by the sun and ruler of the 5th house. Qualities and traits associated with this archetype include the following : optimistic, confident, outgoing, ambitious, charming, charismatic, competitive, admired by many, succesful, has egotistical and narcisstic tendencies, can be jealous and possesive, creative, loyal, warm hearted, can be stubborn and arrogant, sometimes controlling, generous, sensual, protective, has great leadership qualities. Society could view this person as the epitome of success and perfection. This is someone that could be both admired and envied by people because of their qualities and life style. A lot of people would agree that your ideal partner has a lot of charm and can get anything they want in life partly because of their good looks and social skills. This is a person that could be described as a play boy/ play girl, a smooth talker. People could think that they get the pretty priviledge, among other things. From an outer point of view, I feel many people would misunderstand this person's nature because they would mainly focus on appearances without really trying to get to know them at their core. This could be a person that faces discrimination in all kinds of forms because of that. People would get easily intimidated by this person's looks and energy. The archetype of the Sun makes me think of someone popular, that tries to be friends with everyone, that may tend to people please to be loved and admired. A person that may fear being lonely and runs away from their solitude by surrounding themselves with people or keeping themselves busy. I also think of a person that would be very active in life in general because they have a lot of energy to spend, someone that would appear in public a lot and speak a lot, someone loud, colorful, bold. A person that would be the first to stand on a battle ground should it be needed. A person that causes a lot of chatter and rumours unintentionally.

Court cards | page of pentacles

When it comes to their physical appearance, your ideal partner according to spirit is someone that is rather simple and discreet. This person would dress neatly and take care of their body but they wouldn't put too much effort into it as this isn't their main priority. This would be someone rather young, possibly younger than you. Someone that physically doesn't appear as intimidating as people may portray them to be. Someone that looks rather stable and grounded, trustworthy and kind. A person with a shy smile and avoiding gaze, that may tend to bite their nails or play with the hem of their shirt in times of nervousness. If this person is viewed as attractive and beautiful by many, they play it down a whole lot. This would be a person that doesn't play with their appearance or try to emphasize their beauty. They would tend to hide a lot of their body, wear clothes that aren't as fitting and complimenting as to not draw attention. So maybe they'd wear oversized clothes, hoodies and hats to hide their face, actual masks even. Even if they may be wealthy, they wouldn't wear expensive clothes but rather very basic ones. This is someone that looks very humble and respectful. They may tend to look at their feet, hunch their back. They may wear headphones a lot or look avoidant. Regardless of their gender or ethnicity, this person would have a bit of a soft childlike vibe to them. Kind of a lost / head in the clouds student look. Their appearance would feel very natural. So no make up. No tattoos. No aesthetical surgery or excessive jewelry. They would have a very "basic" body shape. Something that doesn't stand out that much. They're not excessively muscular but they don't lack muscle. They're not excessively curvy but their body doesn't lack volume. A very balanced and proportionate body structure, same goes for facial features.

Minor Arcana | 6 of swords

When it comes to their personality traits, this would be someone that thinks a lot and always tries to weighs the pros and cons of a situation. Someone that is very thougthful and understanding of people's differences. This would be a person that is a good communicator and listener. Someone that is patient and soft, that would make sure that you are not left behind or feel "less than". This is a person that would think of you first and make sure you feel included. Someone versatile, empathetic, that can adapt to any situation. Someone capable of adapting your point of view, even if it may not always make sense to them, because they know how vital it can be for a relationship to find a common ground. A person that wouldn't be scared to leave behind everything they own and everything they know if it meant protecting and ensuring a healthy relationship. Someone that isn't afraid to set boundaries and cut ties with what doesn't serve them or the connection. A person that would prioritize quality time and communication. Someone that would be accepting of your differences, that would be reassuring and help you gain clarity in times of doubt. Someone that doesn't fear change and can bring change in the connection should it be needed. A calm and collected person, resilient person. Someone that wouldn't fear your past but wouldn't stay stuck on it either. A person with great analytical skills that could help you see things from a different perspective, broaden your mind and allow you to explore the depths of your ideas and visions. A person that would travel the world with you and wouldn't leave your side, no matter where you are or what you do. That would stick with you through thick and thin.

[thatlotuscookie]

ok ok, hear me out, hear me out I swear-

a Haikyuu character who's a teacher(you pick which one bc I am indecisive lol) who students don't like because they assign too much HW, x Art-Teacher y/n who's super eccentric and all the students have started calling "Auntie" bc they like her so much... and somehow the students realize they're dating

✧･ﾟ: a/n: hiii thank you for the req anon! i choseTsukishima Kei x art teacher!fem reader cause why not :) sorry for the wait, it got a little busy. please enjoy and thank you for requestinng <3

✧ Title: ✧ Paintbrushes and Equations ✧ ✧ Characters: Math!TeacherTsukishima Kei x Art Teacher!Reader, Fem!Reader ✧ Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life ✧ Rating: G ✧ Summary: Mr. Tsukishima Kei, the strict math teacher known for his tough assignments, and Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher adored by students, try to keep their budding relationship under wraps. But between secret coffee runs and after-school visits, it doesn’t take long for their students to catch on. ✧ Content/Tags: Secret Relationship, Soft Tsukishima, Teacher AU, Slow-burn Romance, Fluff and Humor ✧ WC: 1126 words // 6.8k chars

Mr. Tsukishima Kei was known as the strict, no-nonsense math teacher, infamous for assigning challenging homework and expecting punctuality from his students. Across the hall, however, was Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher who taught in a classroom full of painted murals, plants, and knick-knacks. Her students affectionately called her “Auntie,” loving her warm personality and encouraging nature.

Despite their differences, the two had quietly been dating for some time now, keeping things subtle so as not to spark gossip in the school hallways. But as careful as they tried to be, some moments were just too sweet to hide from their observant students.

Every morning, Tsukishima would stop by Y/N’s room before classes started. Though their relationship was mostly kept under wraps, there was one routine they couldn’t help but share—he’d bring her coffee, just the way she liked it, and stay for a few moments before his first class.

One particular morning, a student passing by happened to catch sight of them. Y/N was sitting at her desk, fiddling with paintbrushes while Tsukishima leaned against the edge of her desk, coffee cup in hand. She looked up at him with a bright smile as he handed her the coffee.

“Thank you, Kei! You know, I think your coffee runs are the best part of my day.”

“Maybe if you went to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t need this much caffeine,” he replied, rolling his eyes, though there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Bedtime? Reasonable? You’re talking to an artist, Kei!” She chuckled, raising her coffee cup in mock cheers.

The student who’d witnessed it ran back to their friends, spilling the details in hushed, excited whispers. “Guys, Auntie totally has Mr. Tsukishima wrapped around her finger. He’s bringing her coffee like it’s a daily thing!”

During lunch breaks, Tsukishima would sometimes slip away from the teachers’ lounge and make his way to Y/N’s art room, which was usually open to students who wanted to work on projects or just hang out with their favorite teacher. Though he’d never admit it out loud, Tsukishima was growing fond of this habit too.

One afternoon, Y/N was holding a brush in each hand, struggling to finish a mural one of her classes had started. Tsukishima approached, watching her for a moment as she fumbled with paint colors.

“Need a hand?” he asked, taking one of the brushes out of her grasp without waiting for an answer. He began painting in neat, deliberate strokes, adding to the vibrant, playful mural.

“Mr. Tsukishima,” Y/N grinned, “are you sure you can handle all this color?”

He just shrugged, pretending to be annoyed, but there was a glint in his eye. “It’s not my fault you’re terrible at ladders.”

The students present watched with wide eyes as their usually stern math teacher helped their beloved art teacher, even taking her playful teasing without so much as a sigh. “Is he… actually smiling?” one student whispered, amazed. “And helping her paint? They’re definitely dating.”

On Fridays, Y/N would stay late to finish up art projects, often leaving well after most of the other teachers had already gone home. But one evening, as she was cleaning up her brushes, she was startled by a familiar voice at the door.

“Didn’t I tell you not to stay this late alone?” Tsukishima’s tone was gentle, though there was a hint of concern.

“Oh, but I had just one more layer of glaze to apply! I didn’t want to leave it unfinished,” she replied, smiling sheepishly.

Tsukishima sighed and moved to take some of the supplies from her hands, setting them aside. “That can wait. You shouldn’t be here by yourself. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

They left together, but not before another student, leaving basketball practice, caught sight of them walking side by side down the hallway, Tsukishima’s hand brushing hers in a quiet, comforting gesture.

“Did you see that?” the student whispered to a friend the next day. “Mr. Tsukishima totally waited for Auntie after school. He’s such a softie for her.”

When Field Day rolled around, Y/N was the designated supervisor for the art activities station. Her students flocked to her booth, excited to paint, tie-dye, and get a break from competitive games. Tsukishima, though not usually one for field activities, had somehow found himself “volunteered” to help out at her station by none other than Y/N herself.

At first, he’d tried to stay in the background, sorting supplies and ensuring everything was organized. But as more students lined up, Y/N pulled him over to assist with face painting. “Come on, Kei, it’s fun! Don’t be so serious,” she teased, handing him a paintbrush.

He gave her a long-suffering look but, after a few convincing nudges, gave in. Soon, students were giggling at the sight of Mr. Tsukishima painting bright flowers and animals on their cheeks.

“Mr. Tsukishima, can you paint a dragon?” one student asked, grinning. And to everyone’s surprise, Tsukishima nodded, actually putting in the effort to paint a rather impressive dragon.

Meanwhile, Y/N leaned in close, watching him with a proud smile. “See? I knew you had a colorful side.”

The students at the booth exchanged knowing looks, watching the way Tsukishima’s gaze softened every time he looked at Y/N. One bold student whispered, “They’re definitely together. I think Auntie’s the only person who could get him to paint a dragon.”

The biggest reveal came on Y/N’s birthday. Her classroom was decorated with student-made banners, handmade cards, and small, thoughtful gifts from her students. But the real surprise came when Tsukishima walked in with a bouquet of wildflowers, which he set on her desk, much to the shock of her students.

“Kei…” Y/N murmured, her eyes shining with surprise. “You didn’t have to—”

“Happy Birthday, Auntie,” he said simply, giving her a small, genuine smile before glancing pointedly at the students, who were watching, open-mouthed. He gave them his usual glare but, seeing the excitement in their eyes, eventually gave up on hiding it.

And with that, the students finally had their confirmation. They all whispered to each other excitedly, some even daring to give Tsukishima approving thumbs-up. From that day on, Tsukishima’s “monster math teacher” title softened in their eyes. He was still strict and demanding, but he was also the teacher who went out of his way to make their “Auntie” happy.

As the weeks went by, more little moments started to unfold between them—moments the students watched eagerly, as if they were witnessing a real-life romance. And while Tsukishima might not have been the most affectionate in public, he showed his care in small, steady ways, making sure Y/N was looked after and supported in the little things.

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? Part 6

In which things are made official (finally)

Warnings: little angst, social media posts Pairing: Lando Norris x SainzSister!reader Word Count: 1.4k words

- What's A Soulmate? - Part 1 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2.5 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 3 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 4 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 5 - Master List

Monaco May 2024

Sunlight streams in through the partially parted curtains of Lando’s bedroom the next morning. Your entire body is warm, wrapped up in the thick duvet that covers his king sized bed. The soft cotton of the t-shirt Lando gave you last night brushes against your skin, not unlike the way he touched you last night. 

He had just popped out to the cafe that was down the block from his apartment to get you breakfast, as he had absolutely nothing other than a few sweet potatoes in his fridge, one of which smelled suspiciously of vodka. The moment alone allowed you to fully soak in the sore feeling that radiated up from between your legs to the rest of your body. The delicious languid stretch that you felt when you moved even just the slightest bit reminded you of how Lando had played your body so well last night, like he’d been worshipping you for his entire life. 

You lazily reach for your phone just as you hear the front door click open.

 “I’m back.” Lando calls out and you grin, enjoying the way your heart flutters at the sound of his voice, still a little gritty from sleep. 

Instagram is your first choice, watching the private stories of your friends from last night, recapping what you had missed after you and Lando ditched the party. And then you come across a suggested post on your feed and your entire world stops for a moment. 

“Uh…Lan?” Panic dances at the edge of your voice as stare at the photo.

“What’s wrong?” As he rounds the corner, you see he’s holding two to go coffee cups from the cafe that’s down the street from his condo, a look of concern furrowing his brow when he sees the panicked look on your face. 

You flip your phone around to show him the post you’d been sent by a friend in London this morning. It’s a post from an F1 gossip account and it’s a picture from Lando taking you home last night, the two of you very obviously together as more than friends. Embarrassment flames at your cheeks as Lando crosses the room to take a look.

F1GossipNews: Fans in town for the Monaco Grand Prix this weekend caught some interesting shenanigans on the streets of Monte Carlo last night. McLaren driver Lando Norris was spotted outside the Hermitage Hotel last night with none other than Carlos Sainz's little sister and from the several reports we've recieved, they were looking VERY cozy together with Lando even carrying the Spanish McLaren employee at one point. As we all know, these two have been friends for years but have never outright confirmed that they were anything other than just that. We have to wonder what it'll take for these two to go public now??? user928 anyone who follows F1 knows that these two have been in love with each other for YEARS. Thank God they're finally realizing it themselves. user9827 i'll always feel bad for that one girl he dated a few years ago. it feels like there was always 3 people in that relationship. i guess she was right to be jealous >>>user8272 i always heard she was the cause of their breakup. confirmed ig. >>>user0388 oh come on, they've been broken up for TWO YEARS. get a life. touch some grass. user023828 MOM AND DAD MADE IT OFFICIAL. MY LIFE IS COMPLETE.

You hadn’t had a chance to talk about what last night had meant yet and your heart hammered in your chest at the possible rejection. It was still possible that he changed his mind, wasn’t it? That this morning while he had gone out to get breakfast, the space had given him a chance to have second thoughts. You knew that Lando was intensely private about his personal life, hating the way gossip accounts and fans sunk their teeth into any bit of gossip they could get their hands around. 

Fans had tried to link the two of you early on when you were friends and Lando always got so angry when that particular rumor would start swirling again. How was he going to react now that this photo, where you both had been identified by name. Sure, you had shared that one photo of his hand low on your back last night but you couldn’t see his face. This was different. There was a video too, attached to the gossip post and you could clearly hear his thick British accent and your unmistakable laugh floating through the background of the video. 

Lando sits down at the foot of the bed with your phone in his had. A smirk plays on his face as he watches the video for the third time, hand reaching out to stroke your toes that now sit in his lap. When he looks up though, his smile fades and matches your anxious one. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears threaten to spill. 

Lando is fully confused by your reaction. “What do you have to be sorry about?” 

“They caught us. I know how private you are, how you don’t want to be linked to anyone unless it’s serious. I should have been more careful, Brenda is going to fucking kill me if you don’t. Oh God, Lan. I’m so sorry.” You ramble, twisting the sheets beneath you out of sheer anxiety.  

You remember the rant he went off on before he had started officially dating the girl that ended up ripping you two apart. It had somehow been leaked to the press that they were together and Lando had felt pressured to make it official with her after that. What you didn’t know was that it hadn’t been the press that had made him feel pressured, it had been the girl. She had pushed and pushed, saying that it would ruin her reputation if nothing came of the gossip posts and he had just gone along with it. 

“Hey, there’s no need to panic. Come here.” Lando reaches out to gather you up in his arms, smiling at the fact that you’re still wearing the t-shirt he had given you last night before you two fell asleep. “Why are you freaking out? It’s fine if the press publishes this stuff.” 

“I just…” You struggle to comprehend what he’s saying to you. He’s not mad? “I just know how much you hate the press in your private life. How angry you got when they found out about…her. We hadn’t talked about what this means and I just didn’t want you to feel forced or anything.” 

Lando pulls you further into his lap, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. God, this was his favorite place now, with how soft the skin at your neck is and always smelling like your perfume no matter the time of day. He was so glad he got to fully indulge in it now and didn’t have to hide how deep his feelings for you were. 

“I do hate the press in my private life, you’re right but I also very much want to shout from the rooftops that I finally get to kiss the love of my life whenever I want. I’m sorry if I didn’t make it clear to you last night, but you’re it for me pretty girl.” He leans in then, brushing your temple with his lips before dragging them down the line of your jaw, fingers gripping at your hips to pull you even closer. “It’s always been you, pretty girl. Always. Be mine forever?”

“You don’t even have to ask, Lan. I’ve been yours for a long time now.”   

If your heart could have exploded in your chest, you wouldn’t have been surprised. You hadn’t really known, hadn’t really realized how much you’d needed to hear Lando say those words until now. You’d spent the better part of five years shoving your feelings for him down so deep in a desperate attempt to accept the fact that maybe all you two would ever be was friends. It was dizzying knowing that that wasn’t going to be the case now and you struggled to wrap your head around it. 

“I can’t go around telling you how much I love and adore you in private and hide those feelings in public. I don’t want to.” To emphasize his point, he grabs his phone out of his back pocket and swipes to open Instagram. You watch with mild amusement as he scrolls through some of the photos he took last night before he lands on one where he’s got you slung over his shoulder, not unlike the gossip post, but this one is in his hallway after he took you home. He types out a caption before handing it over to you for your approval. 

Laughter spills out of your lips as you read it before you look up at him. “This is quite bold, are you sure you want to be this…open?” 

Lando nods, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m about to be so obnoxious about the fact I finally landed you. How else is everyone in the paddock going to know you’re spoken for now? Max fucking Verstappen better stop texting you now or else I’m going to run him into the bloody wall on Sunday.” 

“Lando Norris!” You scold, swatting him on the shoulder while you both dissolve in giggles. 

“Go on, I know you want to post something too. Although I suspect that story you posted last night of me and you in the elevator was what sparked people to look for other clues. They’ve been trying to ship us for years.” 

You blush under the accusation but you know it’s all in good fun. Fear and anxiety gone from your body you reach for your phone again to make your own post. Lando gives his nod of approval and you both post the photos simultaneously and then grinning, you leave your phones in the bedroom as you enjoy the rest of your morning before you have to be on track later for media day. 

You two didn’t earn the nickname Chaos Gremlins for nothing.  

LandoNorris Confirmed. (tagged: LittlestSainzSis, F1GossipNews) CarlosSainz you'd better take care of her or else you'll end up in a gravel pit. LittlestSainzSis love you darling >>>(liked by landonorris) McLaren IT'S ABOUT TIME >>>user928 even admin knew these two idiots were in love before they did. user0292 oh my GOD he tagged the gossip account. HAHAH >>>user92828 he is down BAD for our girl user0332 if you look closely in the background, you can see me laying down in the middle of the highway. >>>user928 srsly. this post called me single in seven different languages. user02828 god they're so hot together

LittlestSainzSis cat's out of the bag, ig ;) (tagged: LandoNorris) user0292 god they're perfect LandoNorris love you, pretty girl >>>(liked by littlestsainzsis) McLaren our favorite papaya couple finally official!! >>>user0383 admin's been rooting for this ship just as much as the rest of us. user029921 legit the hottest looking couple on the grid, fight me.

the end.

IDK why half of the tag list isn't working but if for some reason you're not being tagged (it says you are when I'm editing the post but it doesn't show up live when I publish it) make sure your settings are fixed on your end or maybe it's just bc i'm a new blog and i can't tag this many? idk but i'll keep trying to fix it!! you can also turn on post notifs for me if you want!)

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream

[hyperdramas]

for one last time | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warnings: non-idol au, fluff, boyfriend!seokmin, tiny mention of jealous!seokmin, mentions of sports (wii sports), reader is lost, kissing, small mention of physical touch, bits of shamless flirting (on seokmin's end), pet names (reader w baby, seokmin w honey, babe), lyr projects her love for wii games on reader, seokmin throws something at reader (a baseball cap as a teasing gesture), they're cute & in love your honor

now playing: for one last time, cheyander

"You swing your arm back and forth like this, babe. That's how you hit the ball." Seokmin's behind you, breath hitting your ear as he puts one hand on your waist and the other on your right arm, performing the swinging motion. Your cheeks are warm from the touch, and Seokmin notices this, a smile on his face as he pulls away.

Your boyfriend was a sports fanatic—he loved lots of sports, and were good at a lot of them too. The first game he had bought for the Wii you two shared was Wii Sports, and he had the joy (at least, that's what he said) of teaching you how to play the game.

You loved Wii games, but disliked sports—you didn't see the hype around them, and you never understood the rules anyways. Seokmin was just so excited to show you how to swing for tennis and serve for volleyball using the Wii remotes, though.

How could you say no to a sweet smile like the one your boyfriend had?

"Seokmin, baby, I really don't think I'm made for this." You look at him, and he adjusts his baseball cap, shaking his head as the watch on his wrist shuffles with his movements.

"We're just gonna give it sometime, okay? Let's try baseball again, okay?" Seokmin looks over to you, voice soft as he exits the tennis portion of the game.

"You'll crush me! You're so good at baseball, Minnie, it's not even a competition with you." You mumble, and Seokmin laughs, kissing your cheek as he shakes his head. "I'll go easy on you, I promise. I want you to get the hang of it first."

As he continues to find the baseball setting, you watch your boyfriend from behind, studying his broad frame and muscled shoulders and arms he's gotten by pitching baseballs and serving volleyballs, no doubt.

As Seokmin worked to recallibrate your controller, you studied his nearly perfect batting form, watching the slope of his nose, bite of his bottom lip, and twinkle of his eye as he focused on the instruction on screen.

"Alright, I think I've got it. Come on, honey, let's try again." Seokmin hands you your remote, and you sigh, shuffling to get in place as you spread out from him.

"Why can't we just play Mariokart and call it a day?" You question, and Seokmin looks over to you, eyes puppy-like as he juts out his lower lip.

"Let's just try one more time, okay? Just one more time." Seokmin begs like a little child, and you can't say no, especially when he's looking at you with wide, sparkly eyes.

"......Fine. One more time." You finally give in, spreading your legs out as you get ready to bat. "I love you." Seokmin looks over to you, nose scrunched up as his eyes disappear into pretty crecsents.

Shaking your head, you brace for Seokmin's pitch, giving it your best shot as you swing your arm like he told you. Your ball flies into the sky, an announcement of a home run adorning the screen as you scream and jump for joy. Seokmin runs to you, obviously happy for you as he picks you up in his arms and spins you around.

Once he places you down, with your hands still on his shoulders and his still on your waist, he takes the Wii remote from you, eyes now half lidded as he smirks at you.

Unable to look at him seriously, you laugh, eyes lighting up as you take in Seokmin's now devious expression. It's obvious that he wants something from you, but you can't blame him, as you also want what he's thinking about.

"I think I deserve a home run kiss." You whisper, bringing your hand to the brim of his baseball cap as you take it off, revealing his messy, dark brown hair.

"I was just about to give it to you." Seokmin says, voice soft yet deep as he searches your eyes.

Your run your hands through his hair, letting the bangs fall in front of his eyes perfectly as he starts to lean in, eyes closing as his lips touch yours. His lips feel perfect against yours, and your hands go from Seokmin's shoulders to sliding down his strong back, and making their way back into his curly hair.

The baseball cap in your hands is long gone, on the floor as your hands go back to Seokmin's broad shoulders yet again. He smiles under you, over the moon at your kisses as he pulls away, breathless.

"I knew you could do it. You just needed a little bit of practice." Seokmin smiles softly, and you sway with him, hands in his as you stare into his eyes.

"I think it's because your Mii character is so cute." You tease lightly, and Seokmin glares at you, picking up his baseball cap and throwing it at you as you squeal, laughing.

"I'm just kidding, Seokmin. No Mii could ever take me from you." You sigh, and Seokmin beams, handing you your controller as he asks: "For one last time?"

feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated! i love reading your throughts :>

[dialovers-lover-xoxo]

One Shot:

X-Reader with Sakamaki Brothers, Reader is a type 1 diabetic and their blood sugar is so low they think they're going to die

DISCLAIMER: The person who requested this has type 1 diabetes. I asked them for their experiences before writing these one-shots because I wanted to be accurate. That being said, not all people with type 1 diabetes have the same experiences.

Shu

------

You stumbled, holding onto the couch's arm. You could feel your energy slipping away rapidly. "Shu..." you whispered quietly. Your lover, with his earbuds in, didn't hear you. "Shu." You said with as much strength as you could muster - which wasn't very much, but to your relief, one of his eyes opened. He sat up slowly and said your name.

"What's wrong?" You held onto your head and tried to steady yourself, but you ended up collapsing. Shu rushed to your side and cradled you in his arms, his eyes panicked. Your blood sugar had gotten low before...but it was never like this. Your vision was fading fast. You grasped for Shu's hand, holding it limply. "I feel like I'm dying."

Through your blurry vision, Shu's eyes flashed with a mix of anger, fear, and determination. "No." His voice came out form. "I love you." You told him weakly. He growled. "You're fine. You're not leaving me." He gently laid you down on the couch and ran to the kitchen, his long legs running as fast as he could. You could hear him opening a cupboard. His footsteps rushed back and he gently pushed a straw into your mouth.

You leaned up on your elbows and managed to drink. The cold, sweet apple juice didn't immediately bring your senses back to normal, but it would soon. Your vision cleared. Shu helped you into a sitting position and wiped your hair from your forehead. You made eye contact with him, his blues eyes soft. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead. Shu took your hand in his and pressed another small carton of juice into your palm. "Start keeping snacks with you. I won't let you die, ever, but don't scare me like that again."

Reiji

--------

One second you were fine. The next you were on your knees, barely holding yourself up. Reiji, who had been examining his vials, immediately rushed to your side. You gripped your head as your vision swam and your peripheral vision turned black. Never...it was never like this before. It was slower, you had time to grab something to get your sugar back up. This was different and it scared you to your core.

Reiji was talking by your side, but you could barely compute his voice. "My love, tell me!" "Blood..." you were only able to make out the beginning "sh" sound of sugar, but Reiji knew. He grabbed a syringe from his desk; his syringes were all around the house. He bent down next to you again. "Hold still, my love." He moved your hair to the side and injected the syringe into your neck carefully. Almost instantly you felt better. He had come up this serum almost as soon as you'd entered the mansion, first for convenience, later out of love.

He held your arms and gently lifted you to your feet. You swayed, but ultimately the strength returned to your limbs. He pressed his forehead to yours. "I should've realized what was happening when you collapsed." He lifted his headand cupped your cheek gently. "But it was never like that in the past." "I know." You leaned up and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to Reiji's lips. "But your serum really works. I'm thankful you made it for me." Reiji's eyes softened. "My love, I only regret I can't do more."

Ayato

---------

You swayed, holding onto the counter. "Oi, Titless! What's the hold up?" Ayato rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. His eyes zeroed in on you and he stepped forward carefully, saying your name.

"Hey...talk to me. What's wrong?" He was concerned but the words were forceful. You turned to him. It took you a moment to focus on his face; your eyesight wasn't right. You touched your head with one hand, the other still gripping the counter. "My head..." You got out. Ayato's eyes widened. "Shit. That diabetic thing again?" You nodded and the action was too much for you. The fingers holding onto the counter slipped and you fell straight into Ayato's arms, who had lunged at the speed only a vampire possessed to catch you.

"Fuck! This damn-" Ayato cut off, looking around the kitchen. He saw the cupboard full of the snacks to get your sugar up. His arm reached up until you weakly said, "Ayato...I feel like I'm dying" Ayato was shocked to the core for a brief second. "No, you're fucking not." He growled leaping up and opening the cupboard, then grabbing everything he could. Ayato joined you back on the floor and gently lifted your head in his lap. He slowly fed you some of your favorite jelly, not even bothering with a spoon in his hurry to make you well.

It took a while but you started to feel better. You opened your eyes to find your vision clear and focused. He looked down to you, his face concerned and his eyebrows furrowed. "You alright?" You smiled and he smiled in return, helping you get up on shaky legs. "I'm alright."

Kanato

----------

Though he hadn't understood - and originally threw a tantrum believing you just didn't like the same sweets he did - Kanato had eventually accepted that the cakes and cookies and desserts he ate weren't safe you. He actually ended up quite excited to shop with you and even tasted your desserts - and spitting them out and crying when they didn't taste how he expected.

Nevertheless, Kanato was being the loving boyfriend you were used to again. After putting you in his favorite dress and doing your hair, he kissed you sweetly and called you his prettiest doll. Today he led you to a table that was surprisingly already filled with sweets and hot chocolate. You stared at Kanato, confused. Normally he asked you to do it and you just assumed you always would. He noticed your staring and narrowed his eyes. "Stop staring at me. What, are you surprised that I'm a good boyfriend?" "Of course not! It just looks so good." Kanato smiled, satisfied. "Yes, it does, doesn't it?" He beamed and added, "Teddy helped me." hugging his beloved teddy bear.

You smiled and sat down. He sat down across from you and giggled, holding out one of your favorite pastries. You opened your mouth, but as you looked down you noticed your fingers were shaking - and pale. As if seeing your fingers accelerated how fast your blood sugar levels were dropping, you felt faint and soon - too soon - the corners of your vision were fading in and out of blackness.

You tried standing up, but your legs couldn't support your weight and you toppled over, holding your hand to your head like a maiden. Kanato cried out in surprise, rage, and concern. "Stupid! Why did you fall over?" You reached out a pallor hand to touch his vampire-pale cheek. Kanato's eyes hardened in realization and he growled. "How inconsiderate of you. Right after I set this all up!" Under his angry words, you saw the concerned tightness of his eyes.

But...this happened so fast. Normally your blood sugar dropped at a much slower rate...now it had only taken a matter of moments for you to collapse, for your vision to turn dark. There had to be something wrong. You felt beyond light-headed, you felt like you were slipping away...

"Kanato...I love you, even in death..." your voice trailed off and your eyes closed. "No, no, no!" Kanato screamed, standing up. With great effort you opened your eyes to see him stamp his foot. "Stupid, stupid! Don't say that! I won't let you leave me!" Kanato stormed back to the table and filled up your hot chocolate with sugar and creamer, so much so that the brown liquid had turned porcelain white. "Drink." Kanato commanded. When your shaking nearly knocked the cup out of Kanato's hand, he batted your hand away, tilted your head, and dripped the incredibly sweet liquid down your throat. All at once. You spluttered, but your vision cleared and you felt your blood sugar skyrocket.

He hadn't exactly done it right, but for now it was good enough a fix as any. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him. "Thank you, Kanato." "Stupid..." he muttered against your neck, and you felt his tears on your skin. "I can't lose you."

Laito

--------

Laito's nimble fingers were touching the keys, his eyes closed as he created gentle music, so experienced he need not even open his eyes to make such a beautiful sound.

It was one of his softer tunes, the music you'd hear during a lullaby. It wouldn't be the first time you've fallen asleep to the sweet sounds your lover played. You'd always wake up in his bed, safe and sound. He was so gentle when carrying you that it never woke you up.

But this time was different, instead of your head rolling forward and your eyelids drooping, your vision was turning black. It was so different than what you expected that it took you a second to realize what was actually happening. "Uhh..." you groaned in discomfort. Laito stopped playing the piano and turned to the couch you were laying on. You felt yourself slipping off and your vision went almost entirely black. Then you were back and Laito was there, gently putting you on the floor. "Laito..." Oh God, this was bad. Your head was already swimming so badly you could barely make a coherent thought.

What was this? Were you dying? "Laito. I love you...I love you..." for you it seemed like an eternity passed, but apparently it was only a few seconds. Laito had already come to the conclusion on his own and, to your surprise, or as surprised as you could be in that state, he pulled a pack of special gummies from his pocket.

"Open wide, Little Bitch." Laito said, his voice sing-songy and playful, but from his shaking hands and the slight quiver of his voice, you knew he was fearful. You managed to eat the gummies. You weren't sure how long it would took, but eventually you gained the strength to push yourself up on your arms.

Laito looked at you sadly. "I hate that you suffer from this." He pressed his forehead to yours. "But it's okay, right? You're always here." Your eyes met his and you saw the steely determination, his playful green eyes turned to hardened emeralds.

"I am. I will be."

Subaru

----------

"Oi!" Subaru called. You whirled around. "Why are ya rockin' 'round like that?" You were rocking? You looked down and your legs weren't steady. You touched your hand to your forehead. You were almost as cold as Subaru. Mortals weren't supposed to be that cold.

"Uh...". You groaned. Your head had felt foggy for a while, but that was normal for you. "I'm fine..." you muttered. "No you fucking ain't!" Subaru growled. You barely reacted to his harsh tone but you saw the regret in his red eyes immediately. "You're not...just let me have a look at ya, alright?" Subaru asked softly.

You nodded and he gently took your arm and pulled to him. "You're way too fucking pale." Subaru told you, and this time it wasn't anger that made his voice sharp. You leaned your head against his chest, first simply seeking to rest your head on something, but out of nowhere fatigue hit you hard and you crumpled against your lover.

Subaru cried out in alarm. He gripped your forearms and lifted you up. "Fuck! That damn mortal thing!" His fangs bared. He scooped you up. "Where are your fucking sweets? If Kanato ate them himself I'll fucking kill him!"

You barely registered Subaru gently putting you on a soft surface. You swayed and fell against a pillow, the sides of your vision turning completely black. You felt like you were dying. "No! No, you aren't." Subaru snarled, and you realized you had said that aloud.

Subaru gently lifted your head. "Stay with me, please." He slowly fed you something sweet and soft. He kissed the side of your head and stroked your hair. "You'll be okay. Just work with me." It took a while until your vision cleared. You groaned and he gently lowered you to lay completely on the bed. You blinked and leaned up, feeling better, but he pushed you back down and then stretched out on the bed. He gathered you close.

"I ain't losin' ya, ya hear? Not even some stupid mortal problem can take ya."

[aventurineswife]

I've been having a bad day lately and am touch starved, so may I request Dan Heng x reader where reader who was always full of energy and never gets sad suddenly cried silently after someone said something hurtful to her?

The scenario I imagine is that the person made reader cry due to them saying something hurtful to them before walking away. And Dan Heng was behind reader all the time, feeling concerned about them since they've been silent for a few minutes, before Dan Heng walks in front of them to ask if they're okay but was surprised to see them crying all this time but made no crying sounds or actions to showcase their sadness, just head hung low and a few small hiccups, attempting to hide their sadness (silent cry) because they felt embarrassed to cry when Dan Heng's with them. (And ofc would love to see how Dan Heng would comfort them)

“Hold Me Until I Mend”

Summary: After a hard day, you, usually so full of energy, feel emotionally drained when someone’s harsh words hurt more than expected. Though you try to hide your silent tears, Dan Heng, who’s been quietly observing, steps in to offer comfort. Surprising himself with a gentle embrace, he reassures you that you don’t have to face these moments alone, and that he’ll be there whenever you need him.

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support, Silent Crying, Fluff, Protective Dan Heng, Soft Moments, Comfort in Silence.

A/N: I HOPE THIS FIC CHEERS YOU UP, ANON!! AND I DEFINITELY GET YOU! 😪💚

It had been one of those days. You could usually shrug off harsh words, throw on a smile, and bounce back without a hitch, but today was different. You’d been feeling off, a little heavier than usual, and when someone threw a snide remark your way, it cut deeper than expected. They’d walked away without a second thought, leaving you standing there, struggling to contain the emotion welling up inside.

Dan Heng, who had been nearby and out of sight, had noticed the way your shoulders drooped slightly, how the spark of your usual enthusiasm had dimmed. His usual instinct was to give you space, as you tended to handle things with unwavering resilience. But this time felt different. When you didn’t immediately bounce back, something in him tightened, an unfamiliar concern that he couldn't ignore.

Quietly, he approached you, stepping around to face you. "Are you okay?" His voice was soft, careful, but when he saw you—head bowed, shoulders shaking ever so slightly, the occasional small hiccup escaping your lips—he froze. You weren’t making a sound, weren’t even moving to wipe away the silent tears slipping down your cheeks. It was as if you were trying to keep it all in, embarrassed to break down in front of him.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice as gentle as he could make it. Reaching out, he hesitated, unsure if you’d want him so close when you were feeling this way, but ultimately decided to place a careful hand on your shoulder.

You stiffened slightly, but when you glanced up and saw the concern in his gaze, something about his quiet support softened the walls you were holding up. Without thinking, you leaned toward him, finding comfort in the steady presence he provided.

Dan Heng didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around you, his hold warm and secure, grounding you in a way that words never could. You could feel his heart beating steadily against you, and that simple rhythm calmed your breathing, letting you release some of the sorrow you'd been bottling up.

“Don’t feel like you need to hide this,” he whispered, his voice low and gentle. “Everyone has moments like this, even those of us who try not to show it.” You felt the warmth of his words, the way they wrapped around you, letting you know that he understood, that he didn’t see this as weakness.

He held you for as long as you needed, his quiet presence anchoring you as the weight of the day began to ease. When you finally pulled back, he gave you a small, reassuring nod, his hand lingering on your shoulder.

“If you ever feel this way again… I’m here.” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though he was sharing a secret just between the two of you. His words, simple and earnest, made you realize that you didn’t have to face every hard moment alone.

A soft smile found its way back to your face, and Dan Heng’s gaze softened in return, a barely-there smile tugging at his own lips. He wasn’t one for open affection, but in that moment, you knew that you could trust him, that he’d be there when the weight felt too heavy.

[slytherinslut0]

quiet reckoning. chapter one

summary: mattheo comes to visit. it’s strange, being twenty five and still seeing your childhood in his eyes.

warnings: just a ton of fucking angst. complicated, self destructive mattheo who’s finally coming to terms with how he pushed you away when you were younger simply because he couldn’t stand being second to tom in your eyes. the acceptance doesn’t make it hurt any less. get the tissues. cry with me please.

masterlist & other chapters.

Life these days holds a strange, silent kind of peace, interrupted only by the faint sound of water rushing over stone—the creek that runs quick along the forest edge. In your early summer afternoons, the trees form a leafy wall of emerald and ochre, and they sway with the breeze that brushes the hair back from your cheeks.

You sit cross-legged in the dirt, hands buried in soil as you pull vegetables out of your garden in prep for the approaching cold months. You love how earth has its own signature scent: damp, fertile, alive. Somehow it makes you think of Tom—his manor, with its towering windows overlooking manicured grounds, its own gardens sprawling wide. His manor with its grand, sweeping staircases, polished black floors.

Everything was pristine, almost oppressively so. Even the walls seemed haughty, disdainful of the cobwebs that clung to the corners.

Tom had never let you stay long enough to tend to those.

But his gardens—those had their own softness, a quiet beauty that only fully revealed itself after dusk when the moonlight cast everything in silver. I loved you there, you reminisce, and the ache has a name in memory—longing. I wish I could have loved you there longer.

And now you're here, a few years after Tom told you never to come back to him—here where the ache feels smaller, further away. Here where there’s no temptation, where the air smells of earth and moss and freedom, and the silence holds its own kind of comfort. Mattheo visits sometimes, wandering into the quiet when your absence grows too thick, when too many of his owls have gone unanswered.

"He'll visit soon." He always tells you. You start to hate how much he lies to you.

"Don't pretend," you said once, and his mouth stretched into a thin, humourless smile.

"Alright," he replied. "I won't."

So now, when he comes to visit, he doesn't say it—he just sits next to you. He doesn't talk much. Neither do you. Life here is quiet—few neighbours, even fewer visitors. A woman brings you pastries from time to time and the town grocer knows your name, but most days you pass unbothered. You tend the garden when the days are warm, work on the cottage when it's cold.

When it's raining you read books and pretend they're not the same kind Tom used to keep.

On a day in early October, Mattheo sits next to you on the porch and you hate that you notice how he doesn't look at you the same way Tom did. It's something lighter, something less cloying. Sometimes you think of how unfair it is that he can taunt you silently like this—how he can remind you of the chocolate streaks in Tom's inky hair, the depth in his dark eyes. How he can remind you that he holds all the same features as his brother, just without the weight.

As the sun sinks slowly through the trees, casting pink and orange across the sky, you turn your face to the creek, watching the water ripple over stones and rocks, and you think of how young you loved them—the way your love grew different when you weren't looking.

Mattheo was chaos, always had been. I could have helped him find himself. But that thought feels hollow, and it's always followed by another. If he would have let me.

"It's strange to think that this is your life." Mattheo speaks after a while of not. He lights a cigarette, and you reach for it when he passes it to you. "You could have done anything."

You inhale the smoke and close your eyes—thinking of how cigarettes taste like fire and ash and the last time Tom had taken your hand.

"Maybe this is all I ever wanted to be." You reply, spinning the cigarette between your fingers. "At peace."

He glances at you in the fading light—the way the sunset casts shadows in the hollows of your cheeks, makes the gold of your earrings look darker against your hair.

He frowns. "You don't look at peace."

No, you think, taking another drag. I never really have.

You pass the cigarette back to him, watching the smoke drift in the breeze. He doesn't say anything else, so you don't either.

Instead, you watch the dark start to close in, the sky turn into an endless stretch of indigo, stars winking to life somewhere above the trees. The fireflies come out eventually, when the night is quiet and heavy and the world turns a little sleepy. They flutter around in the trees and grass like faeries—like stars that've made their home on the ground—and Mattheo watches them with a furrow in his brow.

You wonder what he's thinking, then think better of it at the bitter twist of his mouth. He always thought they'd burn.

"Why do you still come here?" You question. He turns to you, and when his eyes meet yours that's when you realize you'd verbalized the thought. "To sit with me."

Mattheo shakes his head. "I'll need another smoke to answer that."

So he pulls out another cigarette and lights it. The first inhale is long, and the exhale makes you blink. You look away and pretend like his response doesn't make your stomach twist.

The stream moves a little darker in the moonlight and the pine trees shiver with a gentle breeze that smells like soil. You feel the comfort in it—in knowing that all of this has been here longer than you ever have, and that it'll be here long after you're gone.

Perhaps that's precisely what you chased. A home in something steady.

"I come to remind myself you're okay." He says after a long silence, staring at his hands. "Sometimes it feels like you're dead."

You blink again. He's more perceptive than you remember.

"I'm still here," you remind him, but he laughs without humour in it.

"Sure, you're there," he replies, before another pause. "But you're not really living."

He says the words casually, like they're a fact. You think they're meant to hurt. He's right—it's a thought that comes quietly, the way most unwanted thoughts do. You over look at the river, the fireflies, the dirt under your fingernails—you try to feel the chill in the October breeze, the soft moss under your feet. You try to be alive.

"Why do you think that?" You ask even when you know the answer.

He takes another drag of his cigarette, and then exhales—casting his hair grey when the smoke drifts over his face.

He looks older here, when the night stretches over him. It reminds you how much has changed.

"Sometimes I think you're here to punish yourself." He says, passing you the cigarette again. "You say you come here for peace, but this isn't peace like a person should have. It's just an absence. Silence, and isolation, and nothing else." You glance down at his hand resting on his knee beside you, shadows deepening in the lines of his palm. He watches you. "I wish you'd stop hating yourself for what he's become."

A lump forms in your throat—you remember Tom as a boy, the way he'd hold magic in his palms and make lights dance just to make you laugh. You remember the way he once looked at you, quietly and gently in a way that made you feel safe within crumbling walls offering cold stone decorum. You remember one of the last times at Hogwarts, once things took a turn, when he held more than just magic in his palms—when the lights danced only to burn you instead of make you laugh.

You wonder what it says about you, that you loved him in both.

"I don't hate myself, Matt." You mutter, more conviction than truth. "If I'm punishing myself at all, it's for giving him something to hurt."

He doesn't say anything for a while, so you think briefly that his silence is agreement. You and him both know that there is a lot to hurt about, when it comes to Tom.

"You didn't give him anything." He rebuttals with certainty. "He was who he was before you even knew his name."

It's easy to forget that sometimes, the way he had been all sharp edges even when you'd first met. The way he'd pulled you and his brother through crumbling, damp, narrow hallways with something far too assured for a six year old. Something that made you want to follow him forever—something that whispered; I'll never let anything hurt you.

You exhale a plume of smoke. The fireflies look like falling stars when you close your eyes.

"Sometimes, I think I made him human." You say, and immediately wish you didn't. It's a weird thought, but one that comes unbidden. "Others, I think I made him evil."

It tastes like acid the moment you say it aloud. I made him evil. You think back to all those nights in the quiet, the way you taught him how to confide in you, the way he looked at you as if you held some answer he couldn't find on his own. You remember the secrets he shared, the way he softened when no one else could see. You remember how long it took him to get there.

But you remember the darker moments, too—moments when you didn't pull away, even when you should have. Moments you whispered reassurances instead of warnings, when you offered comfort instead of caution. Maybe, in those silences, you fed a need that shouldn't have been nourished, let him believe his ambitions weren't dangerous, only misunderstood.

You wonder if, in being the one person who never condemned him, you gave him permission to be what he became.

"And me?" Mattheo turns to you. You glance at him, the hard line of his mouth and his eyes that look more black than brown in the night— "did you make me evil too?"

You're both quiet for a moment, the only sound is the stream, the only motion is the flutter of the fireflies.

"I don't believe I made you anything." You say finally, letting him take the cigarette back from you. "I suppose you only became who you wanted to be."

You think, quietly, that it's a kinder fate than the rest.

He huffs a laugh. "So you think I wanted to be an asshole."

He's joking, you think. Or he's bitter again, resentful. You're sure he wanted to be whatever Tom would accept him as—though you'd never say those words out loud.

"I think you wanted to be loved." Is what you settle on, and the words tear your throat apart as you speak them. "Just like I did."

He hums, noncommittally, and lights a third cigarette.

You wonder why you still know that he's bitter even when he's not saying the words—why you still know that he only hums that way when something hurts, or when it's a truth he can't bring himself to admit.

"You found it now, haven't you?" You fill his silence with another sentence you wish you didn't say. "You're engaged."

You watch the embers from the cigarette tip light up the hollows of his cheeks, the way it burns his eyes gold as he takes a drag on it.

"Yeah," he nods into the night. "I'm engaged."

Something selfish in you aches at that.

"Then why do you come here and look at me like you're lonely?" You try to ask it casually, but you don't think you manage it. You see him tense when he realizes how well you still read him. "What is it you're missing, Matt?"

"I don't know." He looks at you in the dark, his expression lost in the shadows of his hair. "Sometimes I think it's you."

It's an answer like a knife, because you've known all along that he feels the same way you do—that the loneliness stays and the regret never really dissipates—that the 'what-ifs' linger long after they shouldn't.

"I'm not your girl." You remind him.

It sounds empty when you say it, but he made it clear when you were younger that he wanted it this way.

"You never were."

He looks away after that, to the stream, and you wonder if it has ever felt hollow like this.

All the lights seem very small suddenly, the moon, the stars—you're not sure where his vulnerability is coming from, all these years in passing. You assume it’s the old saying—absence makes the heart grow fonder.

"But you wanted me to be." It's more of a question.

"For a time, when we were kids." He gives you honesty that surprises you. "Sometimes I think I still do."

Why?—you want to ask, suddenly, desperately—and wonder at the cruelty of the thought. Asking that would be the worst kind of question. Why do you want me?

You think you know all the answers already. They sit bitter at the back of your throat.

"So that's why you come here." You say instead, shivering with the wind that brushes over you. "To remind yourself of all the reasons you still feel empty."

There's a dark sort of humour to the sound he lets out, one that makes your chest ache. He turns to you again, and his hands shake when he lifts the cigarette.

"It's not you that makes me feel empty, princess." He whispers. "It's the absence of you."

You look at him, then—really look. There's something strange about being twenty five and still seeing your childhood in his eyes. Despite the nickname, he’s not joking. It’s the kind of confession that tastes like a fist, like a punch that breaks bones.

I know, you think. I wish it could have been different for us.

"You need to stop coming here." There's no spine in those words. They're putty between you. "Just like Tom told me to stop, I'm now telling you."

He's quiet, watching you as the embers of the cigarette flicker over his fingers.

"I'll stop," he pauses, and you see the pain in his throat as he swallows. "When he finally comes to you."

That, you think, will probably never happen.

"So you'll come here forever." You say, and his mouth twists in a silent, bitter smile.

"I guess I will."

You don't have a response to that. It's not a choice he makes so much as it is his reality, and you, of all people, could never fault him for that.

So instead of words, you lean to rest your head on his shoulder, same way you did when you were kids. You sit together, watching the moon and stars and the stream and the trees and everything else around you that reminds you you're alive, even if you don't feel it. You think of his fiancé, you know she'd never understand. This is childhood love in its most vulnerable form—and you thank him for it, silently, for reminding you that you're not alone. Even if you're sure you are.

He leans his head sideways, on top of yours—a gesture almost automatic.

"I still think of you in the summer." He mutters into your hair. You close your eyes and remember the sun, the way it once felt like it touched your bones. "The summer when we were nine. Swimming in the river at night. Those stupid bugs that I thought were made of fire." He pauses for a minute, looking around, and you think he's done talking, until he isn't. "I suppose I do understand why you chose this life."

You remember that summer, too. Small children swimming in a river that was all silver shadows under the moonlight, chasing fireflies like stars. No parents to call you home, no rules except the ones of your own.

Somehow, that's not your favourite memory of him.

"And I think of you in the fall." You say, listening to your own voice sounding distant. "The year just before Hogwarts. When the leaves turned red and orange and gold. When you raked them into a pile for us to jump in."

He hums. "I tried to kiss you that fall."

"And Tom fought you for it."

"And he won." Mattheo's voice sounds distant too, almost lost. "He always won."

It's strange, thinking of autumn when you think of Mattheo, but it fits—he's just as fleeting. Beautiful, easy to fall into, but always gone too soon, leaving a chill in his place.

"Sometimes I think it's because he knew he could." You build off his thoughts. "And sometimes I think it's because he just wanted to prove it."

He shrugs. "Either way, I still lost."

It's such a mournful way to reminisce, you think, for the children you used to be.

"And what now?" You ask.

He exhales slowly, and the smoke looks like a mist in front of you. "I suppose now we both lose."

And that, is the most honest thing he's said all night.

You turn your face into his shoulder, the way you had when you were younger. You close your eyes, and for a moment you imagine being a child again—back in the days when love was simple and nights were endless. Back to a time when you didn't know things you should and all you had were each other's shoulders to lean on in an orphanage dirtier than the forest before you.

"We lose together, then." You offer, a half-whisper.

"Yeah," he answers, just as quiet, just as lost. "We lose together."

There's a bitter kind of contentment in that, you think. You're sure that's a terrible thing.

You take a few moments to brace yourself for the shift in conversation, and then—

"How is he?"

"He's fine." Mattheo understands what you aren't asking. "The leader he always wanted to be."

You close your eyes again and hear the stream running steady, moving around rocks that have been shaped by years of its presence. You ignore the ache in your chest.

"He's happy?"

You don't have to open your eyes to know that Mattheo smiles bitterly. "He's as happy as someone like Tom could be."

There are several beats of silence, the kind that holds too many unsaid things. You feel it in Mattheos exhale that there's something he isn't saying. You don't press him on it. You sit together like this for a while under the sky—watching the way the dark clouds move, the stars shift.

You think about childhoods that never last. About fireflies and streams and boys you loved.

"Tell me something true." You murmur as the midnight grog sets in. "Tell me something that'll warm me through winter."

Mattheo pauses, silent, and for a moment you think he's not going to answer.

"I've loved you most of my life." He mutters finally, into the top of your head. The words feel like a breath of summer, in a quiet, dark night. "That's the kind of truth that could melt an iceberg."

It's the sort of declaration you could only share in the cover of the night, in the silence of a forest. Not the sort of admission that would ever survive daylight. I've loved you most of mine, too.

"And a lie?" You reply.

His fingertips run through his hair, almost idly. You suppose he's looking back into memories of fleeting autumn's and summer sun, the time he tried to kiss you and the day he pushed you away. He doesn't answer the question for a while. You wonder if he doesn't have an answer, or if he just doesn't want to say it.

And then, finally, quietly— "I'm happy for him."

You close your eyes again. That, you think, is the cold truth of winter.

You turn your face again into his shoulder for a second time tonight, but you keep your eyes open. You can feel the weight of your childhood on your shoulders, the trees and the creek behind you, and the silence that follows his lie.

Suddenly, you're furious—a fire tearing through regret. You wish Mattheo hadn't chosen booze, fights, and empty escapes. You wish he'd let you love him properly before pushing you away. You wish he hadn't always resented Tom—hadn't always felt second best in a way no amount of reassurance could fix. Yet somehow, you just can't fault him for any of it.

He's always known you loved Tom first; he's carried that like a wound.

"Ask me to lie to you." You say as you swallow your anger.

There's an exhale. You're sure Mattheo's watching the trees, the wind as it runs quietly past.

"Lie to me."

You tilt your head up to the sky. You try to remember that fall, you try to feel what it was like to be a child again, and to believe in a future that wasn't shaped by the past. You think of his fiancé.

"I'm happy for you." You whisper.

From the corner of your eye, you know he smiles bitterly again, but he responds with nothing more than his unsteady breathing. You're both silent like this for the rest of his stay, together under the moon that's watched you both change.

"I'll be back in a month," he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear as time stretches thin.

He has to go before the sun rises, before dawn coaxes him into staying. You consider, if only for the flicker of a second, letting him.

"I'll see you then." You lean back and look up into his eyes, searching into the gold buried deep. If you look too long, you think you may see his broken heart. You make yourself smile anyway. "Write to me."

"Even if you don't write back." He replies with a nod.

The cold air makes your eyes water. For a moment he's still, like he may pull you into him and drown you in all the things he feels. Instead, he puts a cigarette into his mouth, lighting it with one of his hands. The lighter casts an orange glow over his face that makes him look pale and tired again, like the boy you'd met in an orphanage that was so much dirtier than the forest before you.

"Good night." He murmurs, and you feel his thumb brush your cheek before he apparates back to the life you left behind.

And now, alone under the black sky, you take a deep breath. Then, you exhale, go back into your cabin and you try not to think about all the things you've lost.

You try not to think of the boy you've loved for far too large a part of your life and how it changed the boy who's loved you for far too large a part of his. You try instead to focus on what you have—walls and peace and solitude, something certain that won't disappear when it rains.

[66stitches]

abby anderson request !! :)

i wanted something where abby is starting to doubt her sexuality and trusts reader to ask questions and just talk about it (reader is a lesbian and they're close friends, it can end up with them kissing — or more, if you're comfortable)

cw: sfw, kissing (a lot of it), descriptions of masturbation (abby), talk of sexuality and questioning sexuality, no physical description of reader

a/n: thank you for the req !! I don’t write full on smut unfortunately (though I might write some short stuff in the future), but I tried to write a few kinda sexual scenes here and there

wc: idk prob like 1k

Daily click - Palestine masterpost - TLOU and israel

divider creds

Abby loved Owen, truly. She was attracted to him: that is what she kept convincing herself of everyday.

Every moment with Owen was a new lie she fed herself.

He was the man she loved. There was nothing she doubted in her relationship with him. The absence of love’s warmth meant to fill her body was her own fault; her inability to reach climax when they had sex was a problem for which only she was to blame.

It doesn’t mean she never tried, though. Abby had spent nights attempting to pleasure herself to the thought of Owen: the only person she should be thinking of; the only person supposed to be capable of reaching her to her climax.

And yet, all she felt was nothing. She laid in her bed, carnal and romantical dissatisfaction utterly consuming her. She was convinced that she was simply incapable of experiencing any sort of attraction exceeding platonicity.

But it only grew more confusing from there.

In another one of her inevitably futile attempts of bringing herself to climax to the thought of Owen, she felt her mind begin to drift to another thought that would hopefully bring her to that much desired release.

She didn’t intend for it to, but the man was just not doing it for her.

That night, she thought of a woman.

That night, she came so hard she swore she could see stars.

A specific woman she thought of in particular, but she would never admit who it was that finally relieved that ache. Not even in the confines of her own thoughts.

And so here she found herself, seated on the soft cushion of your worn-out couch.

You were Abby’s sole friend who was openly lesbian. Abby had seen you bring women over numerous times before. She had listened to your rants about your sexual and romantic encounters with women.

She even helped set you up with one, which harbored a slight odd feeling in the pit of her stomach for a reason she couldn’t quite decipher.

She had thought of it many times: what it was like being with a woman. She didn’t really know what to make of those thoughts. Whether it was mere curiosity, or perhaps something more.

And now here she sat next to you, trying to find the confidence to speak.

She never found it hard to confide in you. Of course not, you were her dearest friend. But this dilemma of hers was difficult to merely utter aloud, even if it is only to herself.

You were on your phone when Abby spoke.

“So… you’re gay,” she started, and she wanted to strike herself as soon as the words left her mouth, because of course you were gay. What kind of opening is that?

“Good observation?” You chuckled, bemused. You placed your phone down, curious as to where she was going with this.

“What’s it like? You know, being with a woman,” she asked, already regretting bringing it up, but she just needed some certainty.

Your eyebrows twisted in confusion at the inquiry. You and Abby were comfortable enough to share anything with each other. Nothing was considered too much information or too uncomfortable to talk about.

It was just an odd question coming from Abby, who you thought was so sure of her sexuality.

“I guess it’s like how it feels for you being with a man.”

God, she hoped not.

“Why?” You asked.

“Just curious, that’s all. Wanna understand your sexuality more, educate myself,” she spoke rather timidly.

You laughed softly. “Oh, because you’re so woke, right?”

Abby could tell you didn’t believe her. In all fairness, she didn’t really put much effort into trying to sound the least bit credible.

She didn’t even know why she was lying to you right now. She trusted you, she always has. This was just a difficult truth to face.

“I don’t know. I’m just feeling a little confused, I guess,” she confessed, shrugging.

“About your sexuality?” Your voice was slow, but your heart beat quicker than ever before.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find Abby attractive. You’ve always had a little childish crush on the blonde, but you constantly found yourself trying to shove your feelings aside, somewhere far away so it could no longer reach to gnaw at your heart.

But now this — this made it all different. You might be getting slightly ahead of yourself, but you can’t help but think that now you might have the smallest chance with her.

“I don’t know— I mean, yeah, I guess,” she said as she fiddled with the seams of her shirt. “Owen’s just never really made me feel… well, anything. Anything you’re supposed to feel with a partner, I don’t feel it. I thought maybe the problem was Owen specifically, but I’ve come to realize that it’s not.”

“But women get you going?”

“I think so,” she admitted, finally. “I tried to think about a woman last night, while, you know…” she trailed off, her skin suddenly feeling very hot at the confession.

“And?” You whispered, feeling just as hot at her confession. “Was it just what you were missing?”

Abby went quiet for a moment, then she answered. “Yeah, it was.”

It was silent. Abby still looked like she had something to say, so you offered no response for a moment.

“But how could I know? I’ve never tried anything romantic or sexual with another woman, so how would I be able to tell? I could just be confused,” she said.

You were quiet, contemplating your next words. What you were about to do could either ruin your friendship, or elevate it to something more. You were relying on the latter.

“You wanna try?” You asked. Your voice sounded bold, but everything within you was shaking with apprehension.

She offered naught but an incredulous look. Her eyes were blown wide, disbelieving.

“What?”

Well, shit.

“I mean, solely for experimental purposes, of course. A kiss shared with another woman, just to be certain,” you explained.

The tension was thick, almost palpable. You were nervous at Abby’s silence and you realized that this is where your boldness gets you.

You were ready for her harsh rejection and the revulsion that would surely be evident in her voice, but then she spoke.

“Okay,” she said. Not a hint of revulsion in her tone. You didn’t know it, but her heart beat just as quick as yours.

“Really?” You asked, surprised as if you hadn’t been the one to offer.

“Well, yeah,” she leaned in slightly, bringing her face closer to yours. “Just for experimental purposes, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” you breathed. You brought your face to hers, and in a split second you closed the gap between you, meeting each other in a slow kiss, your eyes fluttering shut.

Her lips were soft. Her kiss felt nervous, lacking confidence, yet it still exceeded every expectation.

You pulled away once you felt it was enough. You looked at her and waited for what she had to say.

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely gay,” she said and pushed your face right back into hers, meeting your lips in a much more heated kiss.

This kiss, however, held the confidence the previous one lacked, her lips moving skillfully against yours. You waited for the shock to wear off before kissing her back, clearly not expecting her to want more.

You disconnected your lips once again, pulling her face away from yours. “Abby—”

“Just need-” she interrupted her own words to press another swift peck to your lips. “A little more-” another kiss. “Just to make sure,” she said, finally and pulled you in for another kiss. She cupped your burning cheeks with her palms and slipped her tongue into your mouth.

What was supposed to be an innocent kiss, solely for the sake of experiment (how the thought made you laugh now), turned into her exploring your mouth with her tongue and pushing her body against yours. This kiss held no place for innocence now.

She softly moaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating throughout your body.

She used her thumb to lightly caress your cheek as she kissed you like her life depended on it. She slightly pulled apart then, nibbling on your bottom lip with her teeth.

As the kiss came to an end, you sat staring at each other, breathless, and oh so blissful.

“You wanna know something?” Abby asked with a dumb smile on her face which brought another smile upon your own. You hummed.

“It was you,” she started, still faintly breathless. “You were who I thought of.”

Your eyebrows rose at the confession. It was unexpected, but certainly not disliked.

What you were more surprised at, though, was how casually she said it, seemingly too blissed out at the moment for any feeling of embarrassment.

“You telling me I was your gay awakening?” You asked, grinning.

“You could say that.” She shrugged and scratched at the back of her neck.

You laughed and scooted closer to her. “Well, I guess I’m honored then,” you said.

“Alright,” she rolled her eyes and laughed. She leaned in then, craving more of your taste.

You giggled into the kiss and pulled away, licking your lips to savor her intoxicating taste.

“I think we’ve already come to the conclusion that you’re gay. You still want more?”

She brought her face closer again and caressed your cheeks. She was close enough that you could feel her breath against your lips.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Now shut up and let me kiss you.”

[a-twistedheartslonging]

I'm gonna ramble about a Kalim headcanon/scenerio. I hope this makes sense.

With how big Kalim's family is, you can not convince me that his little siblings weren't sharing a bed with Kalim constantly. Whether they were cold, had a nightmare, or were just lonely, they shared a bed with Kalim cause they knew he was never gonna shoo them away. Which led to Kalim being able to count on one hand how many nights he spend alone his entire life. Cause there was always at least one kid sharing a bed with him.

This of course changed when he went to NRC and suddenly didn't have six year olds knocking on his door every night. And he couldn't sleep, cause it just felt weird being so alone at night. So after Jamil refuses to share a room with Kalim, he decides to just invest in stuffed animals. So he just has a mountain of plushies in his room so that he isn't alone at night. That worked until ONE night he invited Yuu over to have a slumber party at Scarabia.

Yuu not wanting to stay in one of the spare rooms (memories of chapter 4) ends up sharing a bed with Kalim. Cause he has more than enough space for him, Yuu, and Grim. Plus he's a good boy, he won't prank them or anything in their sleep. He's the best option to share a bed with. Except now Kalim has finally shared space with someone at night again and he realized how much he missed it. Whether romantic or platonic, he missed having someone to hold at night. So the next night when Yuu had gone back to Ramshackle, Kalim realized how big and cold his bed was. Except now his plushies aren't enough to comfort him. They're soft, but it's not the same as cuddling with a person.

So after Jamil refuses Kalim's first idea (which was him staying at Ramshackle every night), Kalim tries to do the opposite. Convince Yuu to stay at Scarabia at night. I mean, it's a win/win. Yuu and Grim get warm blankets, food in the morning, and nights without being eaten alive by bugs. And Kalim gets a cuddle-buddy. Everybody wins.

Kalim is a cuddle-bug and nobody can change my mind.

This is so sweet, I love it.

Him and his siblings totally had sleepovers all the time and he loved it. Very sad Jamil doesn't want to be cuddle/sleep over buddies😔.

It's been so long since the poor guys had a proper cuddle, and you're so soft and warm. Dude is going to get withdrawal symptoms the next night, the boy needs those cuddles again.

Depending on how bad it gets with Kalim, Jamil might even be the one giving you reasons why you should just move into the dorm, so Kalim stops whining.

[apt502-if]

I recently read your demo, and I absolutely adore it! I love the characters, and the relationship between them. I have a soft spot for A with a musician MC! And I'm so excited for the moment where we can finally sing together and compose music together! I had a question, after the MC sings and runs away, M is the one to "comfort" them, and it left me wondering why didn't A say anything to the MC about their voice, since there is a dialogue option where A tells them they are curious about how they sing. Were they shy, or didn't know what to say? Will A say something to the MC about their voice in the future? <3

Thank you! :> And MC is still new to A so A isn't sure how to handle them. They're keeping their distance because they struggle with trusting people. As for the singing, that comes up again :> A is protective of their music and singing and doesn't know how to act around someone new like MC so even discussing that is difficult.

[twst-drabbles]

would Sebek's grandpa go catatonic seeing janitor in the modern day?

Hahaha I'd imagine that Baul has made his peace and fully accepted that he's never going to meet the Janitor again, so when he does see them again, he thinks they're simply a descendant of that human he has shared tender moments with, so he isn't outright judgmental of his grandson's human friend from college. Who's also a staff member and has not one lick of magic. But also, he's made it pretty clear to his family about his distaste for humans, so he has to keep his regular prickly composure of just, not verbally engaging with the Janitor.

But it obviously doesn't escape his family's eyes that his ears twitch every time the Janitor's voice can be heard nearby. And even bites a chuckle back into his throat when they say something snippy or funny.

Either way, something is clearly nagging at Baul, because the amount of similarities between his first human love and this Janitor just start cropping up and it bothers him. Are they mocking him? Is he a part of some cosmic joke that he's unaware of?

Yeah that Janitor isn't hiding anything, but they're also not outright saying anything because they just want to see how long it will take for Baul to connect the dots.

And when he does connect the dots, it's in the middle of a family dinner, probably something the Janitor says to Sebek and everything just clicked in Baul. Only then does he go catatonic, and he has to be helped to bed like he's aged another 500 years.

Janitor is having the time of their life. Baul is still so fun to mess with.

He will recover quicker than Sebek. Probably thirty minutes later and a talk must be had. Privately.

"So, does Sebek know that his grandpa's a hypocrite?"

"...I--"

"You sure taught him to be judgemental to humans, for someone that once so eagerly loved having my tongue in your mou--"

"MM-HM! ...you're right. I am, in fact, a hypocrite. A hypocrite that loved a human. A hypocrite that grew to resent humans, and even let those feelings taint those once soft memories he held so dear. Memories that regained their luster when his daughter nearly bit his head off for even suggesting her human husband wasn't worthy of her. And this hypocrite, standing before you with evidence of his mistakes still echoing in his bloodline, missed you all the same."

"...haha, glad to see you're living well enough to reflect on yourself like this. You have a beautiful family. Though, are you ever going to tell them that you once made out with human multiple ti--"

"I beg of you, have mercy on me."

[areyouwell]

Hii I love your Phobophobia series so much, can you do a little one shot of flashback from the relating series? Something like a day in their life back when they're still in that gateway forest cabin house.

They spend quite some time there, I remember a brief scene where Logan made a DIY gift for the reader's birthday and it was the CUTEST thing ever, or the framed picture of him reader's put on the counter. I just need to get know more of what happened like a reality tv show lmaoo. When it's only the two of them most of the time, isolated. Surely there'd be time where they'd get sick of each other, but they couldn't ask for more, and they wouldn't ask for more, they only have each other.

i have no restraint when it comes to these two... as much as i wanna focus on my new long series i just can't quit them

'Prisoner of My Past' – A Phobophobia Oneshot

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!F!Reader

Warnings: MDNI

Word Count: 8.1K

A/N: if y'all keep requesting them, y'all are gonna get em. here's another firefly and logan oneshot, taking place after 5.5 and before 6. smut, angst, fluff, what else could a girl need?

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck @sseleniaa @sadslasher13 @yallgotkik @whyamistillontumbler @maddiedinosaur @bethexo07 @pwpwppeepeoor @y08h

The slightest breeze kicked up the light, sheer curtains of the cabin window, the approaching autumn heavy in the air as your brows furrowed instinctively. Pulling the covers closer around your neck and burrowing further into the furnace warmth of Logan’s chest, a croaky groan of disapproval rumbled from your throat. 

Too early. Once again you’d woken up too early. 

A soft smile of adoration pulled at Logan’s lips as he tightened his hold around your body, already knowing you’d woken up in an irritable mood because you had indeed woken up before ten in the morning. He didn’t say anything, knowing you’d rather attempt to gaslight yourself into believing you were still asleep for a few more minutes before you’d finally accept that you were conscious. Still, he pressed a light kiss to the crown of your head, his way of telling you he was awake too. Whilst you didn’t quite have the same appreciation for mornings that he had, there was still no other way he’d rather spend his time. Curled up with you beneath the plush duvet and various quilted blankets with the window cracked open, just the way you liked it. The only downside was the sun. And oh boy was it making a bright debut this morning

You shifted again, pressing your nose into the hollow of his throat as if you could simply assimilate yourself into his body and escape the reality of having to open your eyes. But you weren’t that kind of mutant, unfortunately. At least, not that you were aware of…

“Ready yet?” He murmured into your hair, voice thick and scratchy with sleep in a way that made you shiver slightly. Smug bastard knew the effect his voice had on you, and had, on more than one occasion, used it to borderline seduce you out of bed. Not that you hadn’t turned the tables, and seduced him into bed. But this was different. This was unfair. Because it was happening to you. It was fine when you did it…

You answered with another long groan of malcontent and a huff of resignation, before finally removing your head from the comfort of his neck, blinking away the remnants of the sleep you so sorely wished to return to. 

“Hey.” He grinned with a raised brow. After the first few times of you reminding him that the concept of a ‘good morning’ didn’t exist and was stupid, he decided to drop the whole ‘mornin’ thing altogether, despite being content to lie back and listen to you rant about it for the next twenty minutes.

“Time?” You asked gruffly, not having the energy to lean up a fraction and look past him to the bedside clock.

“You really wanna know?” 

“Good news or bad news?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

You huffed again, your forehead falling forward to rest back into his chest. “So that’s bad news then.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from where your forehead rested, and you almost thought waking up this early was worth it just to hear that. Almost.

“It’s before ten.” You could hear his shit-eating grin, clearly thrilled you were up earlier than the goddamn worm before it’s eaten by the bird. 

“How long before ten? There’s a difference between five minutes and fifty.”

“Then you definitely don’t wanna know.”

You looked up from his chest with a deep, irritated scowl, before mustering up the courage, and the energy, to prop yourself up on your elbow to look at the digital clock by his bedside. 

You almost fainted. 

“Three minutes past nine? Three minutes past nine?! Times like this shouldn’t fucking exist. There was a reason I scheduled all of my damn classes in the afternoon. What do people even do this early in the morning? Sit around and wait for the day to start?” You lamented, flopping back onto the pillows before Logan could take advantage of your change in position and remove his arm from beneath your body. It’s fine, he didn’t need to feel his hand anyway…

“Hate to break it to ya Firefly, but most people would be at work by now.”

“Disgusting heathens.”

Logan snorted a laugh, shifting himself to lie atop you, blanketing you with his own body. You found it comforting, like the world’s warmest weighted blanket that could also double up at a stress toy when your hands needed something to knead into. You savoured the way he’d almost purr when your fingers dug into the hard muscles of his shoulders or back, working through stiff knots until he melted into your chest. But this time your deft fingers wove through his hair, simply playing with the soft brown strands as you slowly woke yourself up, the scruff on his jaw scratching against the skin of your collar. Your nails scratched lightly against his scalp and you felt the telltale, purring sigh dust your chest where he’d turned his head to listen to your heart.

“Ya know…” he began, his voice taking on a different gravelly tone to the one he woke up with, and you could already sense where this was going. “There are ways to make mornin’s like this worth wakin’ up for,” he turned his head to rest his chin on your breastbone, heated desire swirling in his dark gaze.

‘Mhm? That so? And how, may I ask, could waking up this early be so worthy?” You loved these little games you played together, the rhythms you danced. Logan pushed himself up on his elbows to barely hover over you, and you didn’t miss the way his arms flexed slightly as he worked his way back up to your neck, tracing his lips up from between your breasts, over your collarbone and to the side of your throat, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Your body slowly smouldered to life, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he littered the side of your neck with little nibbles and sharp bites, smoothing over the small hurts with his tongue. Your breath hitched in your throat as he sucked a light bruise against the scar on your pulse point, his hands braced either side of your head. 

“I could start from here…” he murmured against the lobe of your ear before pulling it with his teeth, revelling in the way he could smell your sweet arousal building between your thighs. He went back to suckling deep purple blossoms into the skin of your throat, leaving the side of your head tingling deliciously from the attention.  “‘N work my way down…” he did as he said, indeed working his way down from the side of your jaw to your collar, grinning against the bone as you shivered a quiet gasp when his hand skirted from aside your head to brace against your waist, his thumb smoothing soft circles against your skin. 

Your eyes fluttered closed, breasts aching for him to finally claim what was his and seal his mouth over your peaked nipples, but he did nothing but tease you, tongue darting out to lap between where you needed him most. Well, not most, but you knew when he was in this kind of a mood, it was going to take a while before he was where you needed him more than anywhere else, the apex of your thighs already slick and ready for him. 

Logan looked up at you through dark lashes, committing to memory the way your brows pinched when he neared the peak of your breast, only to furrow again when he moved away to work up the other as if he couldn’t decide which he wanted to take first. He knew it was cruel for him to tease you this way, and he knew you could give it just as much as you got, maybe even more, but at this moment, he truly didn’t care. If you decided later to bring him to the edge only to leave him high and dry, he knew it would be worth seeing you like this. Submissive. Impatient. Yearning. Desperate. 

Your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, lips sandwiched between teeth when his tongue circled the tip of your breast, and you could only arch your back so far before he took pity on you and enveloped your sensitive pebble with his warm, wet mouth. You keened, head falling back onto the pillows as your fingers in his hair encouraged his movements, a disobedient whine flying from your gated lips as he sucked gently, his tongue flicking over and over the perked bud. 

A low groan rumbled from his throat, heightening the soft sparks of pleasure he delivered with his mouth, already feeling his need for you throbbing against your thigh, his hips grinding against your soft skin. But he wanted to take his time. After all, you’d woken up much earlier than normal, and things like that should be rewarded. Drawing in a deep, slightly shaky breath, he nipped across your plush chest, scraping his teeth over where he knew you were most sensitive before settling his mouth over your neglected nipple, drawing another breathy whine from your lips. 

“Logan…” you sighed, squeezing your thighs together and unknowingly providing more for his pulsing cock to grind against. His eyes fluttered closed as muted ecstasy fogged his mind from doing nothing but grazing his tip along your inner thigh, his teeth clamping down lightly on your hard bud. You gasped airly, and Logan wished he could capture the sound in a bottle.

Descending further, he took his time kissing and lavishing the various scars across your stomach, making sure to run his tongue along each one at least once, even as your body quivered with wanton anticipation and your hips rose needily into his chest. 

“All the way down to here.” You’d completely forgotten he was explaining what he could do to make the morning worth it until his gravelly, lust-laced voice rose from between your thighs, his hands now braced against your hips to hold you still. Your scent wrapped around his addled brain, pulling him closer to your slicked cunt and your teeth sank into your lower lip just as he moved to swerve your heat altogether, his lips attaching to the needle-point scar to the left of your inner thigh.

Frustration kindled in your chest despite the tickling pleasure of his mouth, the rough surface of his bears scratching deliciously against your velvet skin, sending a mixture of feelings through your scalding blood. Your fingers twirled through the strands of his hair, pulling harshly in an attempt to shift him to where you truly needed him most, but it resulted in nothing but a huffed groan and a sharp nip as if he was reminding you to behave. You tensed your jaw hard enough to hear your teeth grinding together, the ache between your thighs becoming almost unbearable, that needy pulsing of your walls begging for attention. 

It was taking all of Logan’s self-control to ignore the call of your sweet arousal, to push down his instincts to devour you and continue on with his constant, lengthy teasing. Until you tugged on his hair again, a shiver running down his spine as he grinned wickedly against your thigh, his leaky cock jumping with equal need. 

You cried out the moment his nose nudged your clit as he practically nuzzled into your throbbing pussy, his tongue finally darting out to lap up the honeydew nectar dripping from your heat. And the moment he tasted you, he couldn’t hold back. Lewd groans and wet smacks filled the air as he devoured your aching cunt, lashes of pleasure struck your body with each desperate suck of your clit. 

“Fuck…! Logan… Logan!” You gasped his name through harsh pants and airy moans, your voice unrestrained as he dragged you closer and closer to that edge after working you up for so long. Your spine arched, hips undulating against his waiting tongue, and he loosened his grip on your waist to allow you to ride his face, relishing the desperation of your movements. His lips latched onto your throbbing pearl, freeing one hand and teasing his fingers around your entrance, inhaling sharply as your nails scratched up the sides of his neck. 

Achingly slowly, he gifted you the ecstasy of his fingers, your velvet walls instantly clamping down on the sudden, welcome instruction. Fuck he could feel you pulsing around him as his digits curled inside you, and he burned to feel you around his cock. With steady, careful ministrations, he heard your voice crack slightly, a telltale sign of you getting teasingly close to achieving your high. 

Your head snapped back as the pads of his fingers grazed that little bundle of pure lightning deep within your cunt, your entire body shaking as you teetered on the precipice of euphoria. “Th-there! Don’t stop… Fuck yes, Logan ‘m so– so close!” You trembled, subconsciously proud of yourself for even being able to form a coherent sentence with your mind so blissfully blank with pleasure. 

He growled in affirmation, pulsing his fingers against the rapturous key to your release until he felt your thighs clamp around his head and breathing became almost impossible. A broken wail stuttered from your lips as he finally pushed you over the edge, fractured gasps cried into the ceiling as warmth flooded your senses, feeling nothing but the unbearable ecstasy of his tongue and fingers. 

Your hips ground senselessly against his mouth, wave after delectable wave of release coursing through your nerves, your sharp nails sinking into the sinewy muscles of his shoulders as you clung to him for dear life, every fibre of your being set alight by his wicked ministrations. And in true Logan fashion, he didn’t stop, and it wasn’t long before sharp spikes of sensitivity shocked your system that had you frantically pushing him away, giving yourself a moment to recover. 

You hissed a curse as you floated back into your trembling body, dark chuckles fanning up your body as his slick mouth crawled back up to your neck and you were barely able to shift your boneless arms up with him.

“Worth it yet?” He asked, voice husky from groaning into your cunt, and you managed a crooked grin, chest still heaving with the intensity of your orgasm. You didn’t quite know how to articulate that, even if he hadn’t just sent you to nirvana and back, just waking up by his side and seeing his face makes early mornings worth it. 

“Mmm, not quite, but it will be.” You hummed, your fingers leaving the tangled mess of his hair to ghost down his chest, dancing across the prominent vein at his naval before dipping lower to gently grip his cock, feeling it hot and heavy in your hand. Logan’s features slackened, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly dragged your palm up and down his shaft, circling his sensitive tip and using the copious pre-spend as a natural lubricant. His jaw fell open with heavy breaths, abs flexing as he thrust into your grip and you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense with restraint. 

Wrapping your still slightly shaky thighs around his waist, you gave his member a small squeeze before swiping his tip between your soaking folds, clamping your lips together to silence your oversensitive whimpers when he nudged the hood of your clit. Slowly rolling his hips, Logan breached your heat, loosening a low groan into the side of your neck as you welcomed him eagerly. There were few moments he’d feel more at peace than when he did buried deep inside your cunt, wrapped in the clenching velvety walls at the apex of your thighs. 

And he could feel the way you deliberately tensed around him, gripping him like a vice as he drew back. Clenching his teeth, he could already feel himself wanting to fill you, wanting to claim you as his own here and now, despite having done just that countless times before. His fingers gripped the sheet on either side of your head as he managed to find a steady rhythm, almost teasing himself with the promise of the earth-shattering release he knew he’d find. He always did when it came to you.

“Always feel so good, sweetheart. S–! So fucking good.” He stuttered, a shock of ecstasy catching him off-guard as you sank your nails into his shoulders. The gentle roughness of your scratches always sent his mind reeling with the paradox, and in response he circled his hips slightly, grinding into that spot only he could reach. You’d confessed once that you’d never managed to make yourself cum like that, and it inflated his ego tenfold knowing that only he was able to bring you that kind of brain-numbing pleasure. 

“‘M yours, Logan…” you whispered like a secret, sending a shiver down his spine and a pulse to his cock. His hips stuttered into yours, losing control of himself briefly before he found himself having to still completely, lest he came before you did. You sent him a knowing grin, tensing around him as if to seduce him back into the rhythm he’d previously set. 

“Say that again.” He almost pleaded, and your brows pinched as your efforts proved successful, only this time there was a primal brutality to the way he started to thrust into you, his back arching with the slicing pain of his claws sliding through the skin of his knuckles, providing more pleasure than hurt.

“I’m yours. Belong– Fuck! Belong to you…” Your voice hitched slightly, head pitching back as your second release of the morning bubbled just below the surface. Logan growled into the side of your neck, carefully freeing his hand from the tangle of sheets and mattress filling to wrap around your thigh, lifting it higher to sit at his rips, nicking his own flesh with his claws as he did. An involuntary gasp sailed from his lips, another strike of lightning igniting his blood as he felt you tremble around him, your high so fucking close. 

“Mine.” He snarled, catching your earlobe between his teeth as he shoved his claws back into the padding of the mattress, your nails sinking deeper into his shoulders as you canted your hips onto his pistoning cock, your moans climbing higher in pitch before getting caught in your throat altogether. There was the briefest moment of silence before you tipped over the edge, back into the ocean of pleasure you’d just crawled out of. 

Logan sank his teeth into the space between your neck and shoulder as you shuddered uncontrollably around him, your entire body spasming with utter bliss as you rode him through your second orgasm, your nails dragging from his shoulders to his back, down over the tense muscles running down either side of his arching spine. How he managed to hold out whilst you soared through inconceivable ecstasy was a testament to his self-control, and only when you were coming back down did he continue, now chasing nothing but his own release. 

“Yours… ‘m yours.” You repeated almost like a mantra as your mind blurred for a moment, before returning with a clarity you hadn’t felt since waking up that morning. “All yours, Logan…” you whispered with renewed intentions. Leaning up slightly, you clenched around him once again, dragging a low, desperate moan from the depths of his chest before you murmured something that sent him flying over the edge. “And you are mine.”

Logan’s eyes screwed shut as you sank your teeth deep into the side of his neck, his jaw locking open as he stuttered a roaring gasp of your name, his cock jolting and pulsing as he shot rope after thick rope inside you, a firestorm of pure, unadulterated pleasure coursing through his system. He could feel the warm trail of blood trickling down his shoulder from where you’d bitten into him, the sharp sting only causing him to lose control of himself completely, his hips bucking wildly into your cunt before he stilled inside you, chest heaving, mind hazing, cock throbbing. 

The coppery tang of blood invaded your mouth and you were worried for a moment that you’d gone too far, but the way he sagged onto you, uncaring of his weight, told you otherwise, and you watched the wound stitch back together with the same fascination you felt when seeing it for the first time. 

He was dead. He must be. There was no way he could have come back from that. Everytime you fucked, he swore it just kept getting better, and he reached a new height with each release. Cracking his eyes open, he could see the three deep veins in the mattress left behind by the slashing of his claws, stuffing and fluff scattered across the floor and the bed. He knew he should move. Knew he should probably roll off you and let you breathe, but if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t think he could. It was rare the Wolverine felt little to know strength, and every single time he did it was little after spilling into your welcoming cunt. 

With a soft hum, you thumbed away the little trickle of blood down his neck before your fingers wove through his soft strands of sweat-damp hair, chuckling lightly as he groaned in exhaustion. You knew it wouldn’t last long, and if you continued, he’d be hard again in a matter of minutes, but you couldn’t stop the yearning to soothe his pretty head. 

“Almost tore your throat out… sorry.” Though, from the sounds of it, you didn’t sound sorry at all. If anything, you sounded almost proud of yourself. Logan breathed a sigh into the side of your neck, feeling too heavy to do much other than shift slightly, pulling himself from your heat. 

“‘N they say I’m the animal,” you giggled wickedly at his words, though your expression softened almost instantly as he looked up at you, eyes full of nothing but sheer, pure devotion. “Christ, I love you.” He murmured, before finding the willpower to raise up onto his forearms and roll onto his side, tucking you in tight and taking you with him, his lips sealed to yours in a passionate, languid kiss. 

“I love you too.” You responded, your tone hushed as you basked in the afterglow of the morning. “Definitely worth waking up for.” 

Logan scoffed, but the sound warmed your heart because his little, disobedient smile meant everything to you. He meant everything to you. You sincerely hoped he knew that. With everything that was going on. Kreva, Jade, the file, your past… you hoped he knew that, despite all of that, he was what mattered most to you. 

And something shining in his eyes told you he did.

It was early afternoon by the time you and Logan managed to peel yourselves away from each other for longer than two minutes to hop into the shower, as dismayed as he was for you to wash his scent from your body. He made sure to hold you the entire time, from the moment you stepped in the shower all the way to heading down the stairs and starting breakfast. Or brunch. Or whatever the equivalent of an afternoon fry-up was. 

Logan set his chin atop your head as you shimmied the pan of bacon, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as he swayed the both of you to silent music, pulling a small chuckle from your lips. 

“If I burn myself I’m blaming you.” You murmured, leaning further back into his embrace as you carefully set down the pan.

“I’ll kiss it better, don’t worry.” He responded lowly, doing just that to the various deep purple blossoms across the side of your neck, a delicious reminder of thirty minutes ago when he was pulling you to the edge of insanity. You never reprimanded him for the marks he left behind, never scolded him for the bruises he sucked into your skin because truthfully, it drove you crazy. His animalistic instinct to mark and claim you called to your desperation to be claimed. To belong. And you’d be lying if you said you would refrain from disappearing into the shadows for a good long while after. 

You breathed a contented sigh, wondering just how at peace you were feeling considering your circumstances. You’d been here for around a month at this point, falling into a steady routine. A few days of the week Logan would head out to handle little jobs for extra cash, from fixing up old cars with the local mechanic Todd, to removing trees and branches for the locals in the next little town. And he’d always come home with whatever provisions the two of you needed. Running out of milk? He’d come back with a few long-life cartons. Needed more flour? He’d come through the door with another two bags of all-purpose, or self-rising if you were baking bread that day. 

And you loved it. You truly did. However, there were some days you couldn’t help the cabin fever. You needed to get out. You needed air, a change of scenery, anything. It was a conversation you’d had a few days after you’d arrived, and he insisted you didn’t need to leave for any reason. But you’d failed to mention that maybe you wanted to. 

“We’re running out of eggs…” you tried to keep your tone as nonchalant as you could, glancing over to the tray of a dozen empty little egg cups, the remaining two about to be cracked and fried along with the bacon. 

Logan hummed thoughtfully, his chin dipping into the top of your head as he nodded. “I’ll pick some up tomorrow, Mrs Whitethorn wants some firewood for the colder months so I can grab some on the trip and– what?” He’d sensed something was up the moment you opened your mouth, knowing you better than the back of his own hand at this point. And when you sighed slightly at his resolution, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I just… maybe I could grab some? Ya know, we’ve been here for a month now and nothing’s happened so–”

“No.”

You clenched your teeth together, flicking off the gas to the stove and stepping to the side so you could turn and face him. “Logan, we’re safe here. Nobody knows where we are. Not even the Professor. You said it yourself. What’s going to happen on a quick trip to the shops? Because that’s all it would be. A quick in and out. No faffing, no lingering, just a change of pace.”

“We’ve already had this discussion.” He responded, his voice taking on a hard edge. 

“Yeah, well, I want to have it again.” You mirrored his change in demeanour, folding your arms across your chest defensively. 

“And what coulda possibly changed in the last month? They’re still lookin’ for ya, an’ people talk. Ya think nobody’s gonna whisper that there’s a new girl in town? That’s how things get outta hand. That’s how he’ll find you.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but terrified frustration was starting to make it impossible. He didn’t want to argue about this. He didn’t want to fight about this. This was the safest option and he wasn’t going to budge.

“It’s a tiny fucking town in the middle of nowhere, who’re they gonna tell? Their neighbours? You’re right, we’re fucked if Mrs Whitethorn finds out you’re living with someone,” you spat sarcastically, the lonely days he was away feeding your claustrophobic irritation. “They don’t even know I’m a mutant! I’m fairly certain they don’t know you’re a mutant.” The shadows in the room started to grow and twist, silhouettes exaggerated, disproportionate to the casting furniture. But Logan didn’t back down. He was used to it by now, the way the leash on your mutation would slip whenever you were experiencing heightened emotion. 

“Look, Charles asked me to keep you hidden and safe, so–”

“Oh, that’s why you’re here? Because Charles asked you to be here? Well, excuse me for thinking you did this out of any kind of concern for me. I should have known Charles would just get his fucking guard dog to deal with the situation. Shoulda been here two years ago, maybe you coulda accompanied me when he sent me away! Made sure I didn’t murder anyone else in cold blood.”

“You’re insane.”

“And this shocks you? You say that like you didn’t know this already, Logan. Newsflash, I was always insane! But that’s what you fell in love with! Insane ol’ me, running around, scaring the kids, endangering her team. Yep, that’s me!”

“Why’re you bein’ like this? You’re behaving like a fuckin’ mo–” Logan stopped himself, a flash of hurt whipping your features before your eyes turned hard, jaw clenching. 

“Go on. Say it.” You hissed, daring him to finish his sentence. But he kept his silence, simply returning your venomous glare. “Like a monster, right? That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it? You’ve read the file, Logan, you know just how much of a monster I really fucking am.” 

Logan snarled, tearing his glare from your daggers and snatching his coat from the hook. He couldn’t be here right now. He couldn’t be around you right now. You both needed to cool off, and there was no chance of that happening whilst you were both in the same house. 

“And just where do you think you’re doing?” You spat accusingly, eyes narrowing.

“Out.”

“Must be nice to be able to leave whenever you want. Send me a postcard, will you? I’ll be here because apparently I’m on fucking house arrest!” You shouted as he slammed the door behind him, the only confirmation you had of him actually leaving was the rumble of the truck’s engine and crunching of gravel as he drove off. You screamed in frustration, the shadows around the house whipping and lashing out in similar rage. The shattering of glass tore you from your anger, raising your head from the cradle you’d made with your hands to glance over to the mantlepiece. 

Your heart shattered along with the glass. 

“Shit…” you whispered, rounding the sofa and sinking to your knees on the rug, your fingers trembling as you debated trying to salvage the picture you’d broken in your outburst. It was one you hadn’t taken that long ago, and you only surprised him with it last week. He’d rolled his eyes at your beaming grin, remembering distinctly the moment you’d wrapped the scarf around his neck and snapped a quick picture before he could do so much as protest. And oh did he protest, the moment you took the picture you had to run back inside and hide beneath the bed. Even then he dragged you out. 

You loved that picture.

And now you’d broken it. 

You ignored the sharp sting of pain as you picked up the shattered glass, blood leaking onto the warm rug, crimson fingerprints staining the frame. You exhaled a shaky breath, sniffing back the tears lining your eyes as you fought to fix the pieces back together, almost frantically jamming the sharp edges against one another. 

By the time you gave up with an angry shout, your hands were covered in blood, and there was a stain in the carpet you knew would likely never wash out. You could theoretically just dissolve your hand in shadow and heal up, but you savoured the sting on your fingertips, the welling of blood on your palms. As twisted as it was, it not only reminded you that you were alive, but it kept you grounded, kept you from getting caught up in the tidal wave of grief and rage and guilt. You didn’t mean to say all those things to him, you just wanted him to listen and he wasn’t hearing you. 

You watched as a trail of scarlet dripped from a cut from your fingertip down to the centre of your palm, pooling around the stains, merging with other little brooks of sanguine. Closing your hand, you winced slightly as the slices barked in pain, blood oozing from your clenched fist before you stood from the ground, grabbed your coat, and slammed the door behind you in an extremely similar fashion. 

He didn’t even know where he was going. Didn’t even know where he needed to go. He just knew he needed to get out. Did you really think he was here just because Charles asked him to be here? Did you not understand just how unbelievably dangerous it was for you to venture off on your own? He knew you valued freedom, but did you value freedom over your own life? Over his grief? Did you not understand how completely and utterly broken he would be if he lost you? It was too much of a risk. How couldn’t you understand that?

And how could he be so fucking stupid as to think you’d just let him keep you hidden away? How could he let himself get comfortable with the fact you’d never want to leave the house? How had he almost called you the one thing you were so terrified of being? Christ he was such a fucking idiot sometimes. That flash of hurt played over and over in his head. The way your features shifted from fury to pain so damn quickly, before it was back to fury. He’d cut you. Deeply. Deeper than even his claws could cut you. He should turn around. Try and explain without raising his voice why he had to keep you safe. Why he was begging you not to drive off on your own. But it was so damn difficult when you kept arguing with him constantly and not letting him finish his goddamn sentences. 

He should turn around. 

And it was with a harsh smack of the steering wheel and a savagely muttered curse that he did, flipping the indicator and pulling into a layby, swinging the truck around and tracing the road he’d just taken, only the opposite way, back to the cabin. Back to you. How could he be so damn stubborn? How could you be so damn stubborn? Fuck, he loved everything about you, from your hotheaded rants about mildly irritating things to your little head tilts when you’re reading a particularly good book but Christ alive were you stubborn.

And he loved that about you too. 

And this was what he was focussing on when he pulled back into the drive, the gravel crunching beneath the wheels. The lights were still on, which, under normal circumstances, would mean you were still awake. But something didn’t sit right. The door to the cabin was left slightly ajar, and he could have sworn it clicked shut earlier when he slammed it. Maybe he’d slammed it a little too hard and it had bounced back open? But surely you would have closed it. You were always complaining about it being too cold in the north. He was certain you could have closed it. 

His heart started to beat a little faster, and he begged his mind not to get ahead of itself. He needed to keep steady if he was walking back into the swirling storm of your justified rage. But as he stepped out of the car, not even the calming breeze could soothe his pulse. The cabin was far too quiet. He half expected you to be anger-cooking, something you were known to do once or twice. But nothing. And not the relieving kind of nothing. The incredibly concerning kind of nothing. 

The copper scent of blood hit him like a ton of bricks. The interior reeked of it. Fresh as well. Freshly spilt blood. In his cabin. In his cabin he shared with you. In his cabin he’d left you in. Now panic started to well in his chest, gripping his heart in a clawed fist. Pushing open the door, he called out your name. He couldn’t smell you over the scent of freshly minted coins, but he couldn’t hear you either. Not your breathing, not your heartbeat, not even your angrily pacing footsteps. You weren’t here. 

Fuck. 

You weren’t here.

Logan raced up the stairs, still calling your name. He had to be sure. He had to be certain you weren’t here before he let himself go crazy. Before he let himself completely lose composure. And just as he suspected, nothing had changed since that morning. The bed still wasn’t made, the lamp was still knocked over from your morning tryst, and you still weren’t there. He took a breath, willing himself to think rationally before he completely lost his shit and tore down the whole forest looking for you. Racing back down the stairs, he quickly scanned the living space for any kind of clues, before his eyes fell to the rug. And the shattered glass surrounding your treasured picture frame. 

A crack of guilt splintered his heart as he crossed the room, bending to one knee and gingerly picking the picture from the scattering of sharp shards, removing the paper from the frame altogether. His thumb wiped clean your scarlet fingerprint from your beaming smile, forever captured. He wished he could go back to that moment and ask you to take it again. Take another where he didn’t look so mildly irritated to be in it. But you adored it. Said it captured the two of you perfectly. 

A large part of him couldn’t disagree.

Logan spun around as the door flew open, heavy boots trudging through the doorway. And he knew things were extremely wrong when you didn’t pause to remove them, instead tracking mud and leaves through the kitchen. You hated it when he did that. When he didn’t remove his shoes before entry. He would always receive a sharp look of disapproval and a deep huff before you’d all but push him back to the doormat. It used to be a game, where you’d stand and wait to see how long it would take for him to roll his eyes and cave. It never took long. 

He inhaled deeply, carefully setting the photograph back on the mantlepiece as you wordlessly strode past him. “Look, I–”

“Don’t.” You cut him off instantly, not even bothering to cast a glance his way as you trudged up the stairs, pine needles and soil dusting each step with the force of your stomping. And all he could do was close his eyes against his slight wince when the door to the bathroom slammed shut, the sound of the shower humming from inside accompanying his guilt. After everything you’d been through, he went and called you the one thing you were so afraid of being. 

How fucking insensitive could he be?

It felt empty. The room felt empty. The bed felt empty. Your heart felt empty. This wasn’t right. As much as you wanted it to be right now, and holy shit did you want this to feel right, it simply didn’t. You tossed and turned, having far too much space than you were used to having. You could spread your legs without obstruction, starfish to your heart’s content. Except your heart wasn’t content. Your heart was anything but content. 

With a heavy, defeated sigh, you rolled onto your back, looking at the space beside you, the permanent dip in the mattress that you both knew would never fade now. Your chest felt hollow, a pit of longing opening up in your gut. But you couldn’t give in. You were mad at him. And he was mad at you. You were mad at each other. You wished he would hear you, just listen for one damn sentence before he immediately got lost in a tirade of his own and drowned you out. It was infuriating. It was irritating.

But it was Logan. 

And it was that thought that had you throwing the duvet off your legs with an exaggerated huff, as if gaslighting yourself to be annoyed about the situation. Bare feet touched the cold, wooden floorboards as you crossed the upstairs bedroom and over to the stairs, dragging the woollen blanket with you. It was larger than the one on the sofa, and you knew that one would barely be long enough to cover his legs, let alone his entire body. 

The boards creaked beneath your footsteps as you padded down, ignoring Logan as he immediately sat up from his admittedly uncomfortable-looking position on the sofa. You knew he was awake. Just like he knew you were awake. This wasn’t your first fight, not by a long shot, but it was the first fight you’d had as a couple, and honestly you didn’t much care for it. Neither did he. 

Wordlessly, you crossed the living room, savouring the warm rug beneath your toes, a nice contrast between the cool floorboards. And there was no argument the two of you could ever have that would stop Logan from opening his arms for you, the comically small blanket falling from his body. There was no way he was about to admit it out loud, especially being in the throes of a heated argument, but he missed you. Fuck, he didn’t hold you for one night, less than, and his entire body burned to be near you. To pull you into his chest and murmur just how sorry he was. 

But neither of you said anything as you clambered onto the sofa next to him, lying with your back against his chest, his arm caging you against him as you settled the blanket over the two of you, fluffing up the cushion by his head before laying down. It was precarious, and you knew you could return to the bed if you both wanted to, but there was something too soothing about this to even consider that option. 

“I’m still mad at you.” You muttered as he buried his nose in the back of your head, inhaling the smell of your shampoo. 

“I know,” he responded, voice thick with exhaustion. 

You nodded firmly in affirmation before regret gnawed at your insides. 

“But I still love you.” The soft admission wove its way into his heart, and he couldn’t help the slight smile pulling at his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your head. 

“I know.”

Your eyes glowed with the reflection of the dying embers. No matter the season, it always seemed to be fucking freezing here, and you were eternally grateful for the constantly burning hearth Logan kept up for the both of you. Sparks popped from the charred wood, rising up the chimney and into the night above, and you watched them go, too much on your mind for sleep to find you a reasonable candidate. 

“I don’t want to be a prisoner of my past.” You whispered, trying in vain to stop the harsh sting of tears from falling down your cheeks. You knew he could smell the salt, and you didn’t want to give the wrong impression. You didn’t want him to think you were too vulnerable, or too weak, to leave the damn house.

But you could tell it was futile when his arms wrapped around you tighter, holding you with the solid surety you’d craved since you’d first started fighting, and you both hated and adored the comfort that settled in your chest. He’d still be here. He’d always be here. You knew you were grasping at straws when you said he was only here as a favour for Charles, and everything he’d done for you, was still doing for you, screamed otherwise. Logan wasn’t a liar by nature. When he said he loved you, he meant it. 

Logan screwed his eyes shut, opening his heart and allowing himself to hurt the way you were. He knew this was his doing, but he just didn’t know how to explain it to you. “I don’t know how to keep you safe…” he uttered, feeling your body tense a little with the admission, before you were shifting in his arms, twisting awkwardly until you were facing him, nose to nose, on the tiny sofa barely big enough for him alone. You stayed silent, letting him take his time in finding the right words. You knew it was a lot for him to say that, to admit he didn’t know what he was doing. You wouldn’t press. You wouldn’t push. You were content to wait for him. 

And the depth of his gratitude could never be spoken aloud, for the failure of those very same words he was trying to find. “Kreva found you in the last place he’d ever think to look. He said so himself. I can’t– I can’t run that risk. I can’t let him find you again. Because if I lose you– Firefly, if I lose you–”

“I know,” you did. Truly, you did. Because if you lost him. If Kreva found you, and you lost him, you knew it wasn’t something you’d ever recover from. Pressing your forehead against his, your hand slowly found its way to the side of his jaw, your nails scratching ever so lightly through his beard. “I’m sorry. I– I know you’re not here just because Charles asked you to be. I was angry and upset and honestly? Kinda just looking for something to justify it,” you apologised quietly, and he breathed a soft smile against your chin. “And you were right. I was behaving like–”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he interjected, pulling back from you slightly. “I was an asshole. I have read some of the file, an’ there was nothin’ to even suggest that. There were plenty of monsters I read about, but you weren’t one’ve ‘em, alright?” He implored, his eyes slightly reflective in the low light. You nodded faintly, a hefty weight lifting from your shoulders and chest, your breath looser in your lungs as you drew in an easy breath despite the cramped space.

“Okay…” 

Logan pressed a delicate kiss to the side of your mouth, sighing as you reciprocated, shifting so you could capture his lips wholly. 

“I love you.” You whispered, a secret shared for only the two of you in the bubble of security you’d created for yourselves.

“I know.” He repeated, and your brows furrowed, your lips pulling in a disobedient, reluctant smile. 

“Say it back, asshole.” You couldn’t help but laugh as his mouth split into a grin, a hearty chuckle rumbling from the depths of his chest as you slapped his bicep lightly.

“I love you too, Firefly.” He hummed, tucking you cosily beneath his chin and holding you tight, both for emotional and practical reasons. He really didn’t want you to fall off the sofa and ruin the moment. 

As hilarious as that would be.

Logan let the silence settle for a minute whilst his mind started to wander. Neither of you had really come up with a solution to the issue, and whilst yes, it was nice to be speaking to you again and holding you again, he was worried that this was only temporary until the problem reared it’s ugly head a few weeks down the line. That was when it struck him. Christ he really could be fucking stupid sometimes. This was such an obvious answer and you’d both just had a ridiculously heated argument over it. 

“Come with me. Tomorrow, when I head to Mrs Whitethorn’s. Come with me.”

Your head shot up from the crook of his neck, and even in the darkness, he could see how they danced with disbelieving hope. “You’re serious?”

“I’m serious. I’m no good at talkin’ to these people. I just show up, do the job and leave. Reckon she’d want some friendly company for once.” He shrugged, trying to play off just how much your excitement was rubbing off on him. In truth, he wanted you to meet the people he did odd jobs for. He wanted people to see the woman who’d stolen his heart. His soul. And to be callous about it, he wanted to show you off a little. Especially to Todd. 

“Even if she’s a secret spy for an underground mutant experimentation project?” You provoked lightly, raising a crooked brow.

“I think I’ll take that chance.” He murmured, loosening his grip so you could get comfortable again before he secured you flush against his chest. This was what he’d craved since the beginning. Since setting eyes on you that first time when welcoming you home. He just wanted you safe. Preferably with him. Actually, that was also a requirement. But he never wanted you to feel like a prisoner of your past.

Not now. Not ever.