#i think you go on forever. i think there is no end to you like there is no end to god.

[bleuberries-and-video-games]

I can tell you this first hand, even the people who are fighting, they're doing it running ragged. Double that for anyone who's like a marginalized identity targeted explicitly by him, I know trans people who are burning the candle at both ends, myself included, to create support groups, networks of aid, any kind of shit just to keep going and to maintain any sort of equilibrium and even make ends meet. I'm very fortunate to have the job I have, I don't know if I will have it forever, as my job does kind of require or rely upon Federal and local government grants and the state of Missouri is not exactly a very kind place right now to trans people.

Not only that, but also like, I would like to explain to anyone from outside of the United States what the United States is like, because I don't think any of you understand what it's like. I think you see New York and la and maybe Austin Texas and maybe Portland oregon, or God forbid any one of the places where there's like a Disney theme park that some of y'all go to, but like those are really big economically beautiful and thriving places. That means they look picturesque, that means they look like America is fine and thriving, but I can assure you that is not the case for a number of different groups and people and places. Hell even in those places I've listed, there are issues you can see on a day-to-day basis that you wouldn't normally see just touring.

The vast majority of the United States, for the vast part of its history, has been some kind of police state with some kind of hyper regulatory body enforcing some kind of morally tied laws. From cross-dressing laws, to race mixing laws, to laws disparaging and maintaining women's oppression, to the very fact that if you didn't own land for a large part of this country's history, you didn't have any sort of power. At all. This means that you are beholden to a capitalistic class that has grown more and more powerful as time has gone on. America is not a shining City on hill and has never been a shining City on a hill, it has always been this place that has been propped up by capitalism, and always had a bunch of people that are sitting in the periphery and which makes the majority of the capital but doesn't see a dime of it. If you think that this is suddenly abnormal, that we went from voting for Obama to voting for the orange dweeb, you're a fucking idiot. You're not paying attention. You're so wrapped up in economic and social nationalism for your countries, thinking about how much better your Society is in contrast and trying desperately to figure out what went wrong™ in America that you forget fascism starts when you start drawing heavy borders and when you start thinking about us versus them. Everyone in the entire world is beholden and capable of doing fascism. I mean it fucking started in Europe for God's sake, Europe is not this enlightened Center of cultural good, for a long time it was very regressive and stifling, and it is only a recent part of History in which that has not been the case. And didn't even more recent history, you have benefited off of economic booms and trade Partnerships that have basically dissolved orders that once caused decades-long escalating conflicts that almost entirely destroyed the world. This is not an accident, this happens because of the economic powers that be, this is because of capitalism, and this is specifically because we have still not addressed the issues that plague the world.

We are trying our very best to do what we can to fight what we can and protect what we can. But when the majority of the country has been getting increasingly economically disparate, when police get more funding than schools, when the military is all over the world working with allies and toppling Nations or propping up proxy states, when all of our money goes to defense contractors or contracted Federal businesses run or cut to Pieces by private Equity firms, there's not a whole lot many people can do, and the more marginalized you are, the more Afflicted and affected by different issues in the world you are, the harder it is for you to do something. And yet I know some people who do stuff, who do fight, who fucking have to walk with a cane or crutches, who struggle to breathe or struggle to go anywhere, who don't have cars, and they still manage to go to meetings, work with organizations, and they're trying, they're God damn trying.

You see the problem is for the last 40 fucking years, the media apparatus that the United States runs, CNN and fox news, have accelerated the concept of propaganda in America from something that is a lot more decentralized and region specific, into this National Force that basically tells the world what America thinks. The issue is? Neither CNN nor Fox news, nor HLN, the Oprah Winfrey channel, cbs, abc, nbc, or Comedy Central really represent the American people and their opinions. A number of these nationally syndicated television shows and news programs have to water down a lot of perspectives, and they often dehumanize, Rob The Voice of, or just genuinely ignore very necessary issues. This is also because of the fairness doctrine, a standard that guaranteed the news would be a certain way, was abolished around the time that CNN and Fox News started taking off.

So not only were you getting watered down, oftentimes nationalized opinions, there was no alternative perspectives and there was no way to tell who thought what and why. And so pretty much the entire world and anyone who watches CNN and Fox News has just assumed that's what Americans think, when in reality we are very much skeptical and very much frustrated with what either program says, and by extension a lot of other media companies. We have watched and tried very actively to stop the monopolization of our media, but we are pretty much helpless to stop it because there's not a lot of avenues we can take especially the worse and worse things get.

You have to stop thinking of America in terms of the prosperity that is projected on television and by a bunch of places for touristic means, you have to start thinking about it in terms of the places that you don't see, you have to start thinking about it as a sort of oligarchic dictatorship that has traded hands over and over again for the last several decades to financially benefit a bunch of dick heads at the top of the hierarchy. Those same Financial dick heads go and explore the world, prop up and collaborate with different financially powerful individuals, and maintain the conflicts and oppression that run the world. Ever since the fall of the Berlin wall, and even since before that point, America has had pretty much free reign with little opposition to do a bunch of bullshit like that.

All the while a lot of it citizens suffer, a lot of them are compulsory forced to serve in the military in order to get the bare minimum amount of college, medical care, and so on, which creates a massive benefit to the military industrial complex, and by extension ships are troops all over the world to help our allies supposedly defend themselves, when in actuality all it's doing is just legitimizing and continuing the cycle of financial destruction.

What I'm trying to say is you have to stop thinking of America in terms of what you see in the media and start looking at America in terms of what you hear from people around here, and more importantly you have to talk to people who are not kissing the ass of government or posting rampant conspiracism. You have to talk to regular citizens and actually get a gauge on what it's like living in both middle and wider range America. I would love for California and New York to be the emblematic representation of america, I would love for the media and ideas you see and engage with to be true, but it's not and it can't be.

America has never been this prosperous giant, it has been a testing ground for the extent of which capitalism can be abusive and get away with it. It is always been that way. You can ask however it got to this point, and I will point to the Civil War and say it was always this way.

It was always about maintaining indentured servitude, always about maintaining disparity and destruction and oppression, and basically from the beginning America has constantly been founded by and sustained by consistent and perfect PR spins. Liberty and justice for all? Or for a bunch of guys who own land? Yes you can change it, but you don't change it by simple votes. All of the Amendments that have giving us rights and changes that have made the country supposedly better have been paid for in blood, and almost all of them have been subverted by a bunch of movements antithetical to their existence simply because a group of people didn't like being told what to do. We are trying our very goddamn best. Please know that the media lies to you, please know that our government lies to you, please know that everything you hear about us is likely some kind of fabrication meant to maintain some kind of facade to get you to believe bullshit. To make you think that we're complaining with this. To make you think that we wanted this. We didn't. Those of us who did? I guarantee you are in the minority. I know they are in the minority.

For those outside of America going "why don't you fight back" or "don't you guys know what's going on?" let me explain something to you.

We know.

There is nothing a lot of us can do right now.

We are either minorities surrounded by Trump supporters or struggling to make ends meet or (most likely) both.

These first few days are designed to exhaust us. It's the same tactic he used during his first administration. Overwhelm the media and the masses so that the more sinister things he does gets swept under the rug.

And honestly, a lot of us are checked out because we spent the last four years warning people about a second term because our lives were on the line and those we thought cared about us proved they didn't.

And now we're just trying to find some sort of semblance of happiness in this joyless world we're now living in. We fight when we can, we bring attention to what we can, but a lot of us are just fucking exhausted.

So please, cut us some slack. We've been fighting for the last eight years, we still have to fight for the next four.

Right now, survival is the only rebellion we have.

[vvkyomi]

what the blue lock boys' good luck charm is | itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser

itoshi sae

i can imagine you getting him some kind of bracelet that he wears 24/7. he won't do anything like kiss it before a game because he thinks it's embarrassing. he doesn't think he needs luck—he's got talent, after all—but he still won't take it off. when you gifted him the bracelet, he probably didn't look all that impressed with it. but when you told him “i'll return it if you don't like it” he just scoffed and never even answered you. trust me, that's sae's version of the no, it's mine forever now. and he literally never takes it off. like. he wears it to his games, in the shower, at interviews. he gives no fucks.

he never talks about it though. he doesn't even like when you bring it up. he's just embarrassed ,, he's just a silly little guy.

shidou ryusei

i'm not going to be nsfw here but trust me, i could be. he's my favourite little freak. <3 but alas ,

his good luck charm is a kiss from you. i'm not talking about a little brush of your lips, no. i'm talking about a full on kiss, tongue and everything, before every single one of his games. if you're willing, he'll make a show out of it too. he'll make out with you right in the stadium after threatening the coach to let you sit on the bench with the team as opposed to somewhere in the audience.

he'll come out of the locker room, run up to you and just pull you into a kiss. if he could, he'd do it after every single one of his goals too. (he's probably tried this and figured out pretty quickly that it doesn't work all that well in the middle of a game)

nagi seishiro

nagi is a low effort type of guy. he likes easy things and he doesn't want to over complicate literally anything. so for him, i imagine it'd be something simple and sweet: a hug. before one of his games, you'll give him a tight hug & kiss on the cheek to seal the deal.

“do your best, sei!” you'll say and he'll complain and whine that it's a hassle, but at the end of the day, he will try to do his best for you. and so far, it's worked pretty well.

sometimes though, he won't want to leave your embrace. he'll just keep holding onto you until you have to literally pull him off because he needs to get to the locker room to get changed for the game. bribe him with cuddles and a gaming session if he does well and he'll let go—but not without complaining and whining.

michael kaiser

he has a lot of tattoos. so before an important game, you'll get a sharpie and add a little drawing to them. other people rarely see it since he's got to keep his arms covered most of the time during games anyway, but he knows it's there and it makes him want to be even better—want to impress you even more.

the night before a game, you'll add a cute little sketch of a cat to his arm with a little heart and he literally will not shower until after the game, just to make sure it stays there. i don't think it's so much about luck for him, i think it's just a reminder that you're watching him and he needs to be the best on the field.

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Batfam x Neglected Mortal

Kombat reader

Notes: this is part eleven of Lucid Dreams.

Please read author's note at the end!

Warnings ⚠️: mentions of killing, blood ,and death. And reader does fight in this chapter. Not proofread!

The room is silent the atmosphere tense but also warm....

And looking into your father's eyes you seem warmth kindness....and dare you say love?

But before you can truly think your response through your heart speaks for you.

"You will always be my father...."

Your words hold truth. Because nomatter how far you have traveled when asked you who was your father you'd always say hanzo hassashi.

You are his daughter.

And though you've always been haunted by that. You don't feel remorse being his daughter in this moment. Because for once in a very long time you feel...wanted?

Sure jason had loved you but it always felt like you needed him more then he needed you. But seeing the desperation in your father's eyes you truly feel needed.

And it feels nice. A warmth spreads across your chest as your father begins speaking.

"Thank you ,my girl," He says.

Thank you.. He says Thank you. He's a king. He's never thanked anyone for anything. And yet he humbled himself before you and thanked you for allowing him to be your father.

Now that was something you didn't expect because in his words "A Hasashi is nothing if not prideful." He used to tell you. But as he speaks his words have no pride in them ,no ill intention, just love.

"I won't let you down... not again." He says and it's surprising how the roles have switched. It used to be you telling him that.

It used to be you begging him for forgiveness but now it's him.

The air no longer is tense it's filled with peace and acceptance. It's calming and it soothes your nerves.

The smell of his candles goes by your nose the hint of aok trees and vanilla. And it feels like you can breath agian. And you let go of a breath you didn't know you were holding.

But much to your father's dismay this moment cannot last forever.

A gaurd knocks on the door and your father huffs and tells him to come in.

"Are guest are here my king." The guard says as he bows.

Your father nods and stands up. Offering you his hand. You take it and stand up quickly pulling your hand away.

You wanted him to know he was still being tested. The you weren't trusting him fully. And he obviously got the hint with how fast you pulled your hand away from his.

He leads you out the room and you follow. Walking down the big stone walls he begins speaking.

"Many people want to see you...to see how you've grown."

You knew this would happen gossip spreads quickly here. Even faster then in gotham.

Despite there not being phone everyone knew just about everyone.

And right now you were the person everyone wanted to see.

"Their not just people...their allies who will help in the war." He says his voice still carrying softness. But you got what he was saying. He wanted you to impress them.

He needed you to impress them. This was a test. But you weren't proving yourself to your father like your test before.

No, now you were being tested by the people who are going to be fighting beside you. They need to see what you bring to the table. They need to see you.

Walking through the halls and into the main palace room where all the guest are already in. There's thousands and the big palace walls have no trouble fitting them in.

All eyes are immediately drawn to you. Thousands of eyes are all looking, observing ,and testing you.

You swallow and the pit in your stomach returns. Someone could've warned you but your sure they wanted to see how you reacted under pressure. And right now that's exactly what you feel.

Pressure.

A small figure makes it way to your side. And you don't have to look at them to know it's kion. His head is held up and you follow his actions.

You have to stand strong, show them who are.

Kion noticing your distress speaks up. His voice is quiet so just you can hear him.

"You look lovely sister." He says and his voice is firm he truly means what he says.

"Thank you." You say quietly not wanting to be the center of attention.

Everyone's eyes follow your form as you walk slightly behind your father. Because no one can walk before him. He is king after all.

Though everyone is watching and judging how you look how you sound even how you breath no one is looking to see if you okay.

Well except for Kion. Kioms eyes never leave you. And keeps a firm position beside you. Glaring at anyone who even thinks of talking to you.

Of course people want to talk to you. They want to know you. You, Kion ,and your father walk through the crowd of people and onto the podium that your father usually made commands on.

Behind you was his throne. Actually there was three thrones. One for the king. Another for his spouse which would unfortunately be empty now. And one bigger then the next but smaller then the kings. It stood on the right hand side of kings throne. It was yours. The heirs. Always on the kings right hand side.

Though yes the kings wife was important the more important thing was the heir

The one who would carry on the legacies the name. The power.

On your right side was a smaller but nice throne it was specifically for kion. He would be your right hand in your back up.

But by the way he stood by you and looked ready to kill anyone who even dare look at you wrong told you that you wouldn't need a back up.

You were perfectly safe.

Your father.stands in the middle of the podium. And all eyes leave. You and turn to him as he begins speaking.

"Today we welcome back my daughter. The princess." He states boldly. His voice is loud and proud and everyone erupts to claps and cheers.

"Will she be your heir?" A noble man asks and you see Kion roll his eyes at the man's stupidity.

"She is my first born." Your father states calmly but you can tell he's irrated to even be asked that.

"But who's to say she's fit to be queen? We haven't seen her in almost a decade." A loud and very annoying voice says. And though yes you have been gone over a decade you'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"Isn't that lord Khalid?" You quietly ask kion.

Kion nods his focus still on the man. But you can tell kion doesn't like the man either.

"I thought father and him hated eachother...father did take the mans eye out...right?" You ask quietly again.

And agian Kion nods. "They've made peace long ago sister...but their not as close as the once were..." kion whispers back. And this time you nod.

Your father looks at Khalid angrily and Khalid smiles. You knew how close Khalid and your father once were..but your father had accidentally cut his eye out...

You wonder if the one eyed man still hates your father or not. But you aren't looking at Khalid anymore...no your looking for his son.

The lord Khalid has seven sons to be exact but your only looking for one. He was a boy last time you seen him. And he was your dearest friend. Closest friend...

You'd spare together all the time when you were younger but he'd never hurt you even if you had hurt him.

He was kind something that this world didn't like. And you wonder if he still has that same bleeding heart.

You remember the last time you saw him. It was at his mother's funeral. Despite your father's fight you had came to his mother's funeral.

You knew how much he loved his mother. He had gotten his kindness from her.

You remember how he hadn't shed a tear at her funeral. Refusing to look weak infront of others. But you know he only did that cause his father just like yours before didn't tolerate weakness.

But when everyone had left her grave.

And it was just you two by her grave. The rain pouring down on both of you. The harsh rain drenched your clothes and hair he had begun crying.

You had never seen someone cry before. Because here it wasn't tolerated. You yourself had cried before in silence. But you never had to comfort someone.

So you did what you thought was best. You hugged him. It was awkward to you but you knew it meant something to him. He was crying on your shoulder and for while you wonder if it was his tears soaking your close or the rain.

He never let go of the hug and you never pulled away. Eventually the hug did get comfortable but sadness was unbearable.

He kept whisper things to you. Pleading with you. 'Please wake her up.' 'Tell her to wake up.' 'why won't she wake up?' He'd whisper in a heartbroken tone.

He'd repeat those words over and over and you truly did wish you could wake up his mother but you couldn't. So you held him tighter.

After that day you didn't see him. You had left shortly after. And you wish you had a better last memory of your friend but you don't. So you look around past Khalid to see if you can spot your old friend.

But you don't. There's far to many people crowed in this place. You sigh and continue watching your father talk to the stupid lord.

"You dare question my judgment?" Your father says strongly stepping forward challenging Khalid.

Khalid smirks and you know he's getting the reaction he wants.

"I do not doubt you king. I doubt your daughter. But please let her show us what she is capable of?" Khalid says smiling like he's already won. And for you a moment you feel suffocated in your big kimono.

A challenge. You hated challenges. You lost very few in your time but still you hated them.

"My daughter has nothing to prove to anyone." Your father says firmly dismissing the idea. But Khalid continues to push.

"Very well then king let it be known that the heir is nothing but a pretty face with no strength." Khalid says and you can hear the quiet gasp in the crowd your father and brother are both very angry.

How dare he insult you like that?

With a sharp scoff and narrow eyes your father agrees. "Very well then pick your challenger." He says and he doesn't spare you a glance.

Does he trust you that much to win? Or does he not care about your opinion?

Kion steps forward putting a hand on your arm and slightly pushing you behind him.

"I'll fight on my sister's behalf." Kion says his voice firm and you can tell your father is silently telling him to stand down. But kion doesn't stand down.

"That's not the agreement boy." Khalid says mockingly.

"To hell with the agreement!" Kion says glaring at the man and at your father.

"Do you just let your son speak for you king? Maybe his mother's absence has left him without manners." Khalid says and kions eyes widen.

And your eyes narrow. How dare he disrespect your brother?

This time you step forward pushing Kion behind you and shielding him from the stupidest men you've ever seen.

"Pick your challenger and I'll cut out his eye ,just like my father did to you."

Now your words are like daggers to the crowd no one expected that kind of response but your father smirks beside you.

"Very well then I'll be honored for the princesses to fight one of my sons. I'll give her the greatest fighter. Azrael." He says and no one even tries to hold back their gasps not even you.

Your sure everyone is gasping because Azrael is such a good fighter...but your gasping because you don't want to fight your old friend...

You see Azrael for the first time as he steps up beside his father. And gods you don't remember him being this beautiful.

He's taller then you now and you can tell he's strong. Jet black hair like his fathers but his hair is shoulder length but just short enough not to cover his eyes.

His eyes are the same brown as his mother's...

Scars litter his beautiful skin adding texture.

And memories of the battles he's won. Big muscle adorn his body and a beautiful face jawline.....

'Get a hold of yourself.' You say mentally. Shaking your head and trying to focus you see that Azrael is looking at you taking you in now.

Probably looking for weaknesses. Or maybe he still thought of you as a friend?

No, you highly doubt that. Your sure that after his mother's death his father had turned him cold. But one could always hope right...?

Once a friend now an alliance. Or enemy?

Your not sure but you know this fight will determine that.

"Your daughter has your mouth my king. Let's hope she has your skills as well." Khalid says and you only glare at him and your father scoffs.

"Prepare the arena." Your father says to the guards.

Why did you have such a big mouth? You think to yourself. No, you had to step up. You couldn't just let him talk to your brother like that...

You feel the arms of your maids who stand behind you pull you off the podium and away from everyone to prepare you for the fight.

"You shouldn't have spoken up princess." Loyce says her voice cold but you can tell she's worried. She was always the one who bandaged you up after fight..and she hated it every time.

"I had to stand my ground loyce. Plus this will be a way to prove myself. " You say dismissively.

"Azrael has beaten many warriors in his time...Raiden included." Loyce says as she continues to dress you into more suitable clothes for a fight.

Raiden? No one has ever beaten Raiden before....

You stay quiet trying to not worry.

Once dressed your maids rush to the arena. A place you know very well. Your father and Kion are waiting for you right infront of the door that leads to the entrance of the big arena.

Your father steps up putting a hand on your shoulder. "You've got this. If I see he'll hurt you I'll call the fight. No pressure." Your father says softly. He truly did trust you huh? No pressure he says but you know how much pressure there truly is.

Even your maids are shocked by his words. He's never excepted defeat especially from his children.

Your father walks off leaving you with Kion.

"You should've let me fight him." Kion says his voice loud and angry. He didn't want you fighting and that was clear.

"I'll be fine brother." You state as you reach over to hug him. He sighs and nods hugging you back.

"Go for throat. Show no mercy." He whispers in your ear before pulling away and following where your father had went.

Pushing the big wooden doors you step into the arena. The crowd already busting with excitement for the fight.

Everyone wanted to see you in action.

"Give them a show." Loyce says just as you pass the doors.

Walking into the middle of the big arena. You see Azrael on the opposite side.

Your father sits on his big chair in the crowd of the arena and Kions stands beside him.

On the other side of the arena is Khalid and his other six sons all screaming and cheering for Azrael.

"Chose your weapons." The announcer says loudly.

All the crows watches you as you go to the big table that carries almost every kind of weapon there is.

You think for a moment not knowing which to pick.

Katakanas are the fastest. A sword the most noble and common.

But your choice was already clear....chains.

Chains with shape edges on the daggers at the ends...just like your father's.

The crowd erupts into cheer and smiles as you pick your weapon.

Looking at hit father he shoots you a proud nod.

Azrael had chosen a sword. Noble.

Your bow to your father as Azrael bows to him.

And the fight begins.

Locking eyes with the boy who you once called a friend you try and read him. But you can't.

And that's when you know. Your fucked.

But he isn't necessarily looking at you with hate either...he looks....nervous?

His hands tighten around the sword he's holding and swallows hard..... he doesn't know what to do...he steps forward but he doesn't want to hurt you...

'So maybe...maybe I'll just tire her out...yeah! I'll tire her out and her father will call the fight off.' He thinks to himself.

And by you looking at the boy he doesn't look like the man who could defeat someone as great as Raiden.

'Why the hell isn't she attacking first? I'll guess I have to make the first move...' He thinks to himself as he steps forward.

He's quick to attack his sword drawing closer to your arm. 'Why go for my arm?' You think to yourself. All fighters usually go for the head it's more lethal..

You dodge his attack with ease. Throwing the chain dagger at him and he dismissively hits your dagger away with his sword.

'Okay so I'm a little rusty.' You think sighing as you pull your chain back in.

He goes low trying to sweep your feet. But your quick to jump back avoiding his leg and throwing a kick of your own only for him to catch your leg.

'Well shit.' You think to yourself.

His first thought is simple. 'Break it' that's usually what he would've done to anyone else...but your not anyone else.

You use your other leg to jump and kick his chest and he let's go of your leg.

The crowd cheers out your names waiting to see the outcome of the fight.

After about half an hour of fighting. And both of you with scraps well more like Azrael with cuts and scraps. You speak up.

"Stop holding back." You hiss just loud enough for him to hear.

He's dodging your attacks and your getting very impatient.

"As you wish princess." Azrael says and hearing his voice is magical.... his voice has long lost the baby tone it used to have.

It's deeper and more firm....it suits him perfectly.

With a quick move he successfully pushes you to the ground cutting your arm in the process. It wasn't even a deep cut.

But he felt horrible.

In his seconds of shock you quickly turn the tables pinning him beneath you instead. It took him by surprise not every seeing someone with such skills.

The crowd once agian full of excitement and yelling as you put your dagger to his neck.

'Cut his throat.' They all say. Everyone's at the edge of their seat waiting to see what you'll do.

But your waiting for Khalid to call the fight.

You need Khalid to call the fight... you can't lose this fight but you also won't kill Azrael to win.

Looking up to see Khalid he watches. You with wide eyes almost daring you to cut his throat.

You can't stand his arrogance. So you do exactly what you told him you'd do.

You hold the dagger over Azrael eye it's a threat and the last one you'll give before you do it.

You look up once more but Khalid is as prideful as ever. You hesitate you don't want to do it...but a quiet voice whispers in your ear.

"Do it." Azrael says as he close his eye allowing you to make your cut. To hurt him.

And you don't know who's more stupid you or Azrael.

But without a second thought you do it.

He hisses in pain as you end the cut right above his cheek.

Blood covers your hand and the crowd cheers. And you hold the dagger to his throat agian. But this time Khalid actually listen to your threat.

'The lord Khalid has yielded!' The announcer screams.

Pull the dagger away from his throat and standing up realization finally hits.

You...... you were going to kill him.

Your breathings heavy and your vision seems to be getting blurry.

Your eyes are on your hands and hoe their cover with blood....Azrael would've never hurt you like this...

You can't even look at Azrael or anyone to focused on the blood on your hands. Last time there was this much blood on your hands you had killed the joker....

Memories of everything you had done from you finding jason in jokers warehouse almost dead to killing the joker...to now what you just did....

Your vision is still blurry and your breathing had gotten worse and your eyes are still focused and your blood stained hands that you don't even hear the announcer say.

"Princess Hasashi wins! Flawless victory!"

Deep heavy foot steps can be heard throughout the temple which cause Kung Lao to walk to the sound of the steps.

No one has been in the temple recently due to the upcoming war between scorpion and sub-zero.

So Kung Lao walks hesitatently but confidently towards the steps.

But his greeted to the sight of his old friend....

"Well if it isn't the greatest warrior to ever live." Kung Loa says his voice still holding that familiar warmth that it used to hold years ago.

And your grandfather smiles seeing his old companion.

"I thought you he'd left us all behind." Kung Lao says still smiling.

"I could never leave me home...." Your grandfather states. But he leaves pit the part 'without my granddaughter.'

"I'm assuming you need something?"

"Indeed I do..." Your grandfather says nodding while the other batfamily members take in the beautiful of the temple their ancient walls holding stories and tells.

They party had lasted almost all night but you had went to your room straight after the fight. Your father seeing you in your worried state had sent you there.

Loyce and the other two maids had cleaned your new scar and given you a bath and finally you didn't feel all the pressure...but you did feel alot of guilt.

"You fought well princess." Loyce whispers in your ear her voice gentle and kind which is honestly shocking.

"That was a one-sided fight. Azrael wasn't even trying." You say as you sigh and loyce continues doing your hair.

"Well you taught him not to ever underestimate you agian." Loyce says.

'No I taught him I was ruthless' Is what you wanted to say but you didn't.

Because you know that you had to be ruthless here.... you couldn't afford to show weakness.

Laying in your bed in silence the only noise was from the small noises you could hear from the party.

It wasn't peaceful silence. No, the silence was almost mocking. You didn't dare and try to fall asleep because you just knew yoir have nightmares.

You hated them. The nightmares the were almost scarier then the real thing. Always so much more intense. Always so real.

Breaking you out of your thoughts is footsteps walking down the hall and towards your room.

Your ears strain on instinct trying to see who it is. And it doesn't take you long before you know.

"Sister?" Kion whispers from behind the door incase your still sleeping.

"Come in" You say. Not sitting up or bothering to look at him. He opens the door and without hesitation sits beside you on your bed.

Your on your back looking up at him and he doesn't look as scary now. He doesn't look like a prince.

His hair is no longer tied into his signature bun making his feature softer and he actually looks like a kid.....

You don't even have to say ask him why he's here because you know. He's worried.

"Can I touch?" Kion whispers almost like if he spoke to loud it would hurt you. He points to your arm the one that Azrael had cut. It's slightly bandaged but it doesn't even hurt anymore so you nod.

His fingers gently run over the bandage careful not to hurt you.

"Does it hurt?" He questions worry sketched on his face.

"No....it doesn't hurt." You say your voice quiet. To quiet for Kions liking.

"Sister.....are scared of the war?" He questions as if he's there to comfort you but you know that he's really the one who needs comfort.

"Fear is a natural emotion, brother.....it's alright to be afraid." You say your voice no longer quiet but soft.

Kion lays down beside you resting his head on your chest. He's seeking comfort...he's seeking your comfort.

And you hold him right back. Holding Kion was diffrent from Holding Jason.

Usually it had felt like you held jason for your own comfort. But you held Kion to comfort him.

You speak up breaking the silence.

"Death doesn't scare me anymore ,brother." You say your voice no louder then a whisper but the words you say sting Kion right in the heart.

"Neither do I fear my own Death sister....but I fear yours." He says his voice almost breaking. And your heart stings at his words.

He was scared...of you dying?

Usually the younger sibling would want the older one to die so that they could inherit the throne. But you suppose Kion is no regular brother.

You don't know what to say but you don't have time to say anything before kions speaks up.

"Don't leave me sister....please." His voice is so pleading almost exactly how Jason's was the night you left.

"I never will brother...not even death can take me from you.." You say your voice so kind and it brings Kion relief instantly.

"Thank you ,sister."

But his relief is short lived before he feels regret.

"I'm sorry sister...." He says his voice cracking agian but he doesn't move his head away from your chest to look at you.

You look down at him puzzled what was he apologizing for?

"Why are you sorry?" You question confused.

"I shouldn't have brought you here...this place doesn't deserve you..." He says his voice quiet and filled with tiredness and you know that he's just seconds from passing out.

And with him in your arms you don't worry about the nightmares anymore....

To you this mightve been a bit normal considering how you used to hold jason....but to kion this was...everything.

He felt safe and warm in your arms. He felt protected......

You still hear his last whisper before he falls into complete bliss.

"And neither do I...."

Authors note: Hey guys sorry if this feels a bit rushed I've also been working on a couple of other series! So thanks for your patiences!

💗Thanks for reading! 💗

Taglist: @dhanyasri , @kore-of-the-underworld , @i-adorehannah , @plsfckmedxddy , @phoenixgurl030 @bunbunboysworld @bat1212 @skepvids @sirenetheblogger @Nervousalpacalady @118gremlin @darktrashpoetry @bitternsweet @kksmush @awawage @coffeemin @feral-childs-word @cens0r3d @sweetprincesscomputer @exactlynumberonekryptonite @rosy-myhouse34 @hebaoffside @sheep-from-rad @time-shardz @vanessa-boo @jellyedkazoo @chinxinsomnia @sillysealsies @nervousalpacalady @gwyneveire @simpingpandas @crazycaoticsimp @nickey-diano @welpthisisboring @jsprien213 @pekusofixus @ryuushou @staarflowerr @kye-chen-r @yotokx @lilyalone @yandere-transformers-rock

[beatlblog]

#i'm crying this is so funny#we love terry (via @sour-milk-sea)

#harrisong: the sun is so beautiful. has anyone ever noticed this (via @tweeterwilbury)

#men are so strange and delusional.....#just tweet im sad that i wasn't able to suck john lennon's dick and log out#it's quicker (via @mylonghairedladyy)

#there's a reason that their post-beatles work is like... imagine for john and freaking... magneto and titanium man for paul... (via @skyriderwednesday)

#arnie pipe is a normal type with an average job but his prospects never will be great#(lyrics say arnie pupe but you cannot tell me that's true. it's pipe) (via @leapinarmadillo)

#hey Ringo just makes cute songs okay (via @milesaerach)

#idk how to admit this but i really like McCartney's solo work because its exactly like this all the time forever#except sometimes there's something so good it could be in the sounstrack of tarzan out of nowhere#and then we go back to insanity (via @dubiousdisco)

#George song: messing around on a sitar#Ringo song: bad (via @baking-bisexual-bitch)

#transition from happiness is a warm gun to martha my dear (via @guttermeat)

#lennon's song ends with a declaration of wanting to kill his wife#mccartney's song ends with terry the plumber killing his wife (via @lumeninfusco)

#george song: n/a (not allowed on the album) (via @thisisdefinitelyausername)

#weed vs coke (via @barryallenisbisexual)

#but that was pre-psychedelic Beatles (via @elglin)

#john if he wrote fixing a hole#paul if he wrote working class hero (via @the-bluebird-you-need)

#(they're both saying the same thing) (via @ensign-babey)

#george: i get one song per album#ringo: ringo (via @hebrideanmoon)

#I see them both as two little guys hitting pots and pans#but in different ways (via @tenitchyfingers)

#lol welcome to 1971 (via @cirumlocutoryconlanger)

#also the difference between alex kapranos and nick mccarthy#alex = john#nick = paul#more at ten. (via @dandy-lad)

#stop I saw this as I was literally listening to the beatles and texting my sister about how insane their range was#the range in question lmaooo (via @fortressofbooks)

#and both songs are about being gay#so yeah (via @aint-that-kind-of-blog-bruv)

#WHERE'S GEORGE (via @local-vamp)

#both could be a springsteen song (via @melody1971)

written while gazing t the photos of john + elvis on his dressing room wall

#almost accurate#add *pipe clanking sounds* (via @gojisaurus)

#i thought it said 'helovespipesshelovespipes' at first and i was like#wow so true...he would change up the pronounce like that. which could mean nothing (via @igixri)

#monkberry moon delight my BELOVED#his three songs are: 1) the Pipe Man. 2) i love my wife. 3) i miss my soulmate john (via @rubyrubyrubytuesday)

The way the lyrics talk to eachother somehow is so more funny to me (via @starfayy)

#and both songs would be mclennon coded (via @flowersintheram)

#why philosophize when you can narrate (via @alienoriana)

#but it's not homoerotic he swears (via @unchaineddaisychain)

#mccartney's song has a key signature change but lennon's song has a time signature change (via @britneyshakespeare)

#theylovepipedream#音楽 (via @radio-4-is-static)

#is this a fixing a hole reference or a pipes of peace reference#only real ones know pipes of peace (via @whoscruffylooking)

#ok but they’d be in the same song A Day in the Life style#and it’d slap!!!!! (via @tesho-travels)

hate hate hate it

#and theyre both the same song (via @onlylivingboything)

#average beatles on shuffle experience (via @veryhopefulromantic)

#im choosing to understand this (via @hell-nurse)

#I can hear this#he loves pipe she loves pipe#can it be one song tho#I think it’d fuck (via @bugsinnmybrain)

#McCartney said shut up and go to therapy Johnny (via @imoldbutimstillintothat)

#need one of those tumblr musicians to make audio for this post (via @mousefluff)

#the best Beatles text posts are the ones you can hear by reading them (via @thatdogjokes)

#the realest shit#my mom always says John & Paul needed each other for balance bc paul is too whimsical & John is too angsty lol (via @theinconstantmoon)

#pauls whimsey he loves to write songs that would work in a childrens tv show (via @lostcryptids)

#a day in the life verses (via @thefoolsprocession)

and that's why i hate it

#uh oh the pipe is leaking#terry is gonna be weak (via @masterboa)

fifth beatle song: its ok to leave a dog in a hot car (hot car) its ok to leave a dog in a hot car (ooh oooh oh) (via @trashfartofficial)

#this is not accurate at all#lennon lyrics aren't like that there is nothing beatlesque about it#his lyrics are cryptic in a completely different way that's more cartoonish and sarcastic#or if he is serious its not black sabbath shit like this its more just preachy and kinda annoying#mccartney on the other hand... yeah that's about right (via @possessesnightshift)

#and the source of the leak is an issue with the pipes that terry the plumber can fix and it all comes full circle#or something. idk i’m not a beatles fan (via @driftwooddestiel)

no this is accurate

#where would prog be without those “helovespipeshelovespipeshelovespipes” changes (via @despairdoodlesreal)

#PRECISO (via @affogonellamarmellata)#its the same song#they worked on it together (via @airlocksandaviaries)

john was just a huge edgelord but paul knew how to be whimsical and fun (via @herecomesthemod)

#get you a man who can piss off all his band mates with 'faggy bullshit' (quote a la Harrison) AND write Blackbird (via @transwolvie)

#ay no puedo (via @longlivetai)

#meanwhile ringo singing about ocean life (via @penthesileas)

[sillysiluriforme]

Planes pass by overhead in a milky tea green sky direction Charle de gaul airport.

She hasn’t been grounded for this long in 4 years now, not since the hospital. She tries to think about Zoey and her grubby little hands. The way she looks up at her. Her babbling.

It’s all futile, her third sex-on-the beach has rendered her brain mushy and uncooperative. She used to hate being drunk. She still does, so it’s particularly perplexing she finds herself inebriated so often.

A pair of perfect manicured fingernails grazes her shoulder.

“Audreeeeeey…” comes Emilie’s pitch perfect practiced whine.

“I’m talking to you !” She ends her sentence on a higher note, indicating playfulness. Her bronze skin, dusted with crystals of pool droplets, sparkles in the light of the terrace- curtsy of her fresh perfect tan.

She furrows her brows through Audrey’s sunglasses. The green of her eyes is exacerbated, almost comical. Like the warning label on a bottle of helium.

“Whaddidyasay ?” The slurred words slither out of her mouth like drool. Why do people even drink ?

She puffs up her cheek and readjusts her hold on the sleeping toddler in her arms clover- Chloe. Chloe, after her mother in law- not that she’d ever met her- Some gold digging cover girl with a strong stomach and very little shame, from what she gathered.

Maybe that’s what her Andre wants for her at the end of the day. A well-to-do husband, some kids, a big house and as little shame as possible… he’s boring like that.

“ Here I was getting sentimental and you just ignore me, how could you be so cruel ?”

Chloe doesn’t stir in her arms, somehow, despite the brat normally sleeping as sleep as light as a feather. The mass of perfect honey colored curls go up and down as she photogenically lays her restful little head on Emilie’s chest. It’s like she’s doing it on purpose.

Audrey, working at half the speed she usually would, languidly blinks at her. No point in playing her verbal games. Emilie always wins.

She sighs with all the gusto of a mistress of the silver screen and repeats herself.

“I was saying I used to wish I had met you younger.”

“…” the congealed remains of her mostly-fruit-juice-cocktails have seeped into the crevices of her synapses, the coughing machine chugs along. “Why ?” She says flatly, without too much interest.

“I didn’t know you actually had curly hair till the day we all moved out, did I ever tell you that ?”

Audrey goes to push her sunglasses up her forehead almost pokes herself in the eye.

“What did you think I was doing when I woke up earlier than you everyday?”

The perfect hand lurches like a snake to grasp her arm, like otherwise she’d run off and miss hearing her out. “You’re missing the point.” Audrey’s eyes roll in their sockets from the snake to the grass-green eyes.

“You wouldn’t let me in, ever, not of your own will.” Her mouth curves down and her brows curve up. “It… hurt me.” Her voice wobbles in a controlled manner not unlike a prop laminated metal sheet. “My first friend- my best friend, trapping me at arm’s length… so during lectures I’d try to imagine you,”

“And me…” and there’s something she manages to catch for an instant. Something soft and fidgety held in her gaze. “As schoolgirls- sometimes even younger, already friends, shared secrets and make believe memories.”

And with a sharp snap it’s gone, cold and still forever. Emilie’s gaze rises past Audrey, as it often does when she goes on a tangent. Her fingers tangle in the little girl’s curls.

“I missed you, you know. It’s not the same without you here. Im so happy you’re home now.” Glossy pink lips plucker into a heart shaped smile. The perfect snake coils through perfect yellow swirls to unearth Chloe’s sun kissed forehead before planting her lips on the unmarked surface. The glittering pink stain stands alone like a flagpole in no man’s land.

Audrey’s foot catches the leg of her deckchair and narrowly misses eating shit on the sharp white tiles when she stands up. Emilie still reaches out like it’d help in any way.

“I want another glass.”

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Hello again wonderful person of the Internet!

Thank you for answering my previous question! But I have came to you for another one.

So I’ve seen a little bit of dialogue from Ford, but how does he speak? Like what is his speaking mannerisms? Is it all gibberish? Does he stutter? Does he repeat words?

Keep on making your art and being awesome! :)

~ Question asked from the Tiniest Cyclops ~

Hello, hello again, tiny cyclops in my inbox!

As I mentioned in this post where I go a bit more in depth on Ford's brain injury, Ford suffers from aphasia! Which is basically the loss of one's ability to express language and communicate, while not losing the ability to understand it. But I'm sure you already knew this; and if not, the more you know!

How does he speak? It really depends when you were to go up and talk to him in the timeline. His speech mannerisms the few following years right after his head trauma is very different from how he speaks now in canon! He's had 30 years to recover, after all.

Ford's speech right after his injury was practically non-exitstent. He was smacked in the face with all of the textbook definition symptoms of aphasia, ramped up to 100.

Speaking in short or incomplete sentences.

Speaking in sentences that don't make sense.

Substituting one word for another or one sound for another.

Speak unrecognizable words.

Have difficulty finding words.

Conversations with him back then were not "gibberish" per se, but more so just... slow. And frustrating for everyone involved, although no one could ever be more frustrated than Ford himself. I mean, can you imagine? He could barely say anything without monumental effort, and whatever meager words he managed to squeeze out of his throat were lackluster, to say the least. Every part of his speech were hindered: grammar, pronunciation, heck, even the tone, volume and rythm of his speech didn't always come out correctly.

Due to how recent his brain injury was, there was also the added physical impairments to his speech. The muscles involved in producing speech were weakened, affecting Ford's control and clarity of his words (this is also called: dysarthria).

From an outsider's perspective, listening to him would have felt a little like listening to an extremely corrupted audio file, or a faulty record player. He would often take long pauses in the middle of his words; his words sometimes blended into one another; and his sentences were short, and simple. I think this quote from this website explains it best.

"Speech may be 'telegraphic' omitting small words such as 'the'. So, 'tomorrow I'm going to the pub with my wife for our anniversary', may be expressed as 'tomorrow...pub... wife... anniversary'. This requires the listener to accurately piece the message together."

So, yeah! As you can imagine, speaking for him was extremely hard. Often times, the townfolk he tried to speak to didn't have the patience to stick around while he finished a sentence, and gradually even Ford lost patience with himself, so he just. Gave up. Which was why he used to be much quieter in the beginning, lurking around town wordlessly, not even really bothering even when someone tried to initiate conversation with him. For a genius who once prided himself so much of his eloquence, losing that ability was a huge blow for him.

How fast one recovers from aphasia really depends on the severity of the injury. It can either take up to a few hours, days, maybe even weeks to fully reover with no long term repercussions, or the symptoms can last months, even years to shake off, and occasionally it's a lifelong condition. Ford, due to the severity of his injury, drew the short end of the stick, and was stuck with the lingering aftereffects of aphasia pretty much forever.

BUT, he evenutally managed to find the will to speak again! At some point during his 30 years of recovery, he decided that he'll figure this shit out himself, goddamnit, he was a scientist. He outsmarted a demon! He didn't have time to be depressed, he needed to relearn how to SPEAK!! (fuck yeah, determination, baby).

And learn he did. Very painfully, very gradually, Ford became basically his own speech therapist for a few decades and relearned everything his body and brain forgot. And although the results aren't perfect- he still stutters, he still gets stuck on words and he still stumbles over them- considering the fact that he had no professional treatment from a clinic or doctor available, it was good enough.

Now he won't shut up! (lovingly)

[seokminfilm]

bed chem 🛌 lee seokmin

♫ pairing, lee seokmin x reader ♫ warnings, non-idol au, established relationship, reader is mentioned to be naked (non-nsfw), kissing, cuddling, seokmin calls reader princess but gender isn't stated ♫ synopsis, your boyfriend knew how to make you feel special.

♫ author's note, saw seokmin's weverse update while scrolling tumblr's 'for you' tab and felt like i HAD to do this 😭 GODD him and his messy fluffy hair and his dark blue pajama set.....i'm gonna literally combust he's so dreamy 💔 anyways enjoy lyrnation! sorry i haven't been updating btw ☹ started a job and school's been really stressful lately so I've been busy!! bear w me please i'm doing my best 🙏

♫ now playing, bed chem (sabrina carpenter)

♫ word count, 476 | for @kstrucknet

the feeling of a muscled arm slithering around your bare waist finally brought you to consciousness, and you yawned, savoring the sensation of the warmth on your stomach. you're pressed against a firm chest, snug in the grip of your boyfriend as you finally come to.

"good morning, seokminnie," your voice is only a whisper, waking up moments ago as a soft pair of lips presses against your neck. seokmin's already awake, smiling at you as he pulls you tighter to his body.

"good morning, princess. did you sleep okay?" seokmin's lips are flush against your neck, and you smile, giggling at the feather feeling of his smile against your warm skin as you press into him even more. seokmin's spooning you, hand stroking your slightly tangled hair as he kisses the top of your scalp.

"yeah, i did," you answer, letting out a light sigh as you feel seokmin's hand trail down your bare stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"where'd your clothes go, princess?" seokmin asks, hand ghosting over your chest and stomach. you giggle, body warming up even more at his touch as you stifle a yawn.

"i took them off, seokkie. it got too hot last night," you explain, and seokmin chuckles, nodding as he yawns. "sorry. i didn't mean to scare you."

seokmin chuckles, shaking his head as he lets his hand rest on your stomach. he shakes his head, burying his face in your scalp as he sighs against you.

"don't say sorry, princess; you didn't scare me. i love you with or without anything on." seokmin chuckles, and your face flushes, smiling nevertheless as seokmin continues to kiss you all over. seokmin's kisses are sweet against your skin, making the morning feel even sweeter to you.

"can you help me find my clothes? i threw them somewhere in here," you whisper, and seokmin nods, kissing your bare shoulder. "of course, princess. whenever you want to get up and start our day, that'll be the first thing i do, okay?."

you nod, too engulfed in the feeling of seokmin's massive hands ghosting around your hips as his lips touch the curves of your shoulders. with the sun streaming through the windows, and the lavender scent of the sheets wrapping your bare body in the sweet scent, you think you could stay here forever.

"can i just stay in bed with you forever? it's so nice." you muse dreamily, and seokmin chuckles, voice like a song as he nods. "whatever you want to do, princess. it's all up to you."

with seokmin doing nothing to talk sense into you and looking at you with those big, brown eyes you can never resist, the two of you end up lounging around in bed and kissing each other stupid for another three hours, not wanting to change a thing in your sweet, little world.

[gangstalkerbarbie]

I used to know +/- a cheder class's worth of little tiny Tosher boys (nonprofessional reasons, their teacher was my cousin), and there were maybe like 6 unique names between them (one after an older Tosher rebbe, one Alexander, an obligatory Srul, one kind of hipster Talmudic name and one name that had curious implications about his parents' niche Hasidic politics). The rest of this entire incoming class was named some variation of Meshulim Fishel, after the rebbe that had just passed away right before they were mostly born.

Some of them went by unique distinguishing nicknames which I'm not going to share here because I don't know it just feels strange, but, so, I had the dubious privilege of catching a peek of this class' attendance sheet once.

The vibe:

[unique names changed to preserve the vibe without naming anyone's actual children who might be identifiable by their really distinctive names, just in case, they're, like, ten now]

• Sender

• Betzalel

• Hiyya [the name was not Hiyya but it had Hiyya kind of vibes, a bit out of place, sort of more likely to be Sephardic, no one's used it in forever]

• Mordkhe

• 🇮🇱

• i forget what this one kid's name was exactly but it was kind of a politically charged choice at the time (by internecine hasid standards)

• Meshulim (not Fishel)

• Fishel (not Meshulim, I think Efraim-Fishel or similar actually)

• Meshulim Fishel (alef)

• Meshulim Fishel (beis)

• Meshulim Fishel (veis)

• Meshulim Fishel (gimel)

...

• Meshulim Fishel (shin)

• Nosson Lippe (<- not his name but similar kind of "kind of euphonic but weird-tasting and unconventional name combination, which was moderately unfortunate on a very sweet child and very funny at the end of this list" vibe)

in case anyone wondered, yeah,

my cousin did in fact call them by their letters, in case you were wondering. There were too many of them for the nicknames not to get confusing. 😄

Mormons: I gotta give my kid the most unique name ever, nobody can steal my baby's name!!!

Catholics: A baby girl's name isn't complete without 'Mary' tacked onto it somewhere

Chabadnikim: There are seven boys in this class called Mendel, five called Menachem, three called Mendy, and one called Menachem Mendel

[wcnderlnds]

last dance | choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: turns out you both want different things but seunghyun has to give you the perfect goodbye ・❥・word count: 2.5k ・❥・warnings: 18+. smut. oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, swearing, angst. female reader. ・❥・ authors note: this took me all day to write and now i go hide like i always do when i write smut because i will always be forever nervous to write it. but there might be a part two to this. maybe. we'll see. also, didn't add my taglist because idk who wants tagging in smut so <3

As you sat there watching your friends have their very first dance together as a married couple, your heart clenched in your chest. You had to tear your eyes away instead focusing on the glass of wine you had in your hand. Today wasn’t supposed to be like this; it was supposed to be a happy day celebrating your friend’s love but how could you celebrate love when your own love life had just crumbled apart mere hours ago? The conversation with Seunghyun replayed over and over in your head.  

It had been like any other day – the excitement of watching your two friends finally tie the knot hanging in the air. It had spurred you on to wonder about your future with Seunghyun. You had been together for four years now. They hadn’t been the easiest four years but somehow, someway, you always made it through the other end stronger than ever. This was what true love felt like. Every single day with him made you fall even more in love. There was no doubt that you wanted to be with this man for the rest of your life so, you had voiced that to him. The second you had said that you wanted to get married one day, maybe even have children, he had turned pale. His whole body had gone rigid, his hands dropping from the tie he was trying to tighten. As he looked at you and said ‘I don’t think that’s going to ever be in the cards for us. Marriage isn’t something I’ve ever wanted’, your heart had plummeted into your stomach.

Really, it should have been conversation early on in your relationship but you had been so caught up in each other that some of the important conversations like that got lost along the way. His words had cut you deep, so deep that it had resulted in the two of you arguing. It made you think he didn’t love you enough even as he tried to explain why he didn’t want to get married. So, as you left for the wedding, all the hurt and scalding words that had been said between you hanging in the air, you knew this was the beginning of the end. 

Sitting at the table, you swirled around the last remains of your drink in the glass, bringing it up to your lips to swig it off. As you did, you locked eyes with Seunghyun who had been sitting at the table over talking to his bandmates. You didn’t tear yours away as he said something to them then made his way to you. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, holding his hand out to you. “Dance with me?” 

Your eyes glanced at his hand, hesitation coursing through your body but you took it anyway. He led you to the dancefloor, his hands finding your hips, placing yours around his neck. A slow song was playing, Seunghyun gently swaying the two of you to the beat. It was too painful to look at his face right now, focusing on his shoes instead but he didn’t let that last too long, his slender fingers reaching out to lift your chin up to look at him. As you met his eyes once more, you could see the pain in them mirroring your own. He knew as well as you that this was it for the two of you. God, it hurt. Your heart physically felt like it was breaking in two. 

“Seunghyun...” you started but he cut you off. 

“Let’s just... have this moment, yeah?” His voice broke as he spoke, the gentleness combined with his deep tone penetrating right through your broken heart. 

He tugged you closer to him, your body pressed against his with your head laying on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours, his hand gently reaching up to your head to stroke your hair. It was soothing but it wasn’t enough. This was just hurting you more. Knowing this would be the last time he’d ever hold you like this, that he’d ever be this close to you? It was enough to bring you to tears. As you let them fall onto his suit jacket, he knew you were crying, squeezing his own eyes shut. Seunghyun wasn’t afraid of crying, he never had been but right now he needed to be strong for you. When he was alone later, he’d let the tears fall but right now making sure you had one last bit of comfort from him was his main priority. 

As the song ended and you pulled back to look at him, he kept his arms around you, his thumb running along your lower lip. “...I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.” 

“I know,” you whispered. 

He looked at you so intensely, like he was memorising all of your features knowing that he would never be able to look at you this way again. Before he could even control himself, he was leaning in and his lips met yours in a slow, passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around your body; his hands splayed across your back as he poured every ounce of his love into the kiss. Love wasn’t the problem; his own commitment issues were. Your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, Seunghyun letting out a sigh. He didn’t say any words as he pulled away, he didn’t need to. Instead, he simply took your hand in his and lead you outside. If he was going to say goodbye then he was going to make sure it was one you could both remember. 

That was how you ended up in the backseat of the car, Seunghyun’s shirt half open, yours somewhere in the front of the car as you straddled his lap, hands cradling his face as you kissed him hungrily. His hands slid up your back, unhooking your bra. It was quickly discarded somewhere in the car, his eyes instantly falling to your chest. His head dipped down, his tongue swirling around your nipple. Your hand tangled in his hair, a breathy moan passing your lips as he worked his magic. Slowly, you grinded your hips against his feeling his growing length rubbing against your core. Thank the stars you’d decided to wear a skirt, only the barrier of your underwear in the way. It was good but it wasn’t enough. You needed him, you needed him like you needed air. 

His lips trailed wet kisses along your chest and collarbone until he reached your neck, biting down to leave his mark. It might be the last time he’d get to have you like this but he still wanted the world to know you had been his. You tugged at his hair, pulling him back up to meet your lips. “If this is the last time just... give me everything, please.” 

“Whatever you want, baby,” he mumbled, thumb brushing against your cheek as he crashed his lips back onto yours. His hand slid underneath your skirt, dipping beneath your underwear. The second his fingers touched your sensitive core, he bit back a moan at how wet you were. “You're always so ready for me.” 

His fingers slid between your folds, coating his fingers in your slick before he pushed two digits inside you. The intrusion had you gasping, his fingers setting a slow, torturous rhythm. He pumped them in and out, your head falling onto his shoulder as you ground against his hand. “Seunghyun, please.” 

“Please, what?” His voice was a deep, reverberating whisper in your ear only making your arousal worse. “Use your words, baby.” 

“More. I need more. I...” Words seemed to escape you especially when he suddenly sped up his movements, his fingers plunging in and out of your tight heat. You whimpered, hips rocking with him. He was nothing but determined to bring you to the brink of ecstasy, his free hand tangling in your hair, tilting your head back roughly as his lips found your neck. The feeling of his fingers deep inside you and the soft bites along your collarbone were enough to send you spiralling. 

You moaned out his name, biting down on his shoulder as you came all over his fingers. He didn't let up, working you through your orgasm until he felt your body slump against his. Only then did he pull his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips. He made a show out of pushing them into his mouth to taste you. His eyes almost rolled to the back of his head, a breathy sigh passing his lips. “You always taste amazing, princess.” 

His swollen lips brushed against yours, the sweet taste of you lingering on his lips. He gently tugged at your bottom lip, grinding his hips up into yours. You could feel how hard he was, how desperate he was and God, did you want him inside you so badly. The feeling was very mutual, his cock aching to be buried deep inside you. He lifted your hips off him momentarily, popping open the button on his slacks as he lifted his own hips to tug off his pants and boxers down his legs enough to free himself. He hissed as the cool air hit his erection.  

Licking your lips, you leaned your head down, his hand instantly coming to push you closer to his length. Your tongue darted out, teasing along his tip, the taste of his precum filling your mouth. He groaned, a deep husky noise; it was almost enough to send you spiralling again. The throbbing between your legs back yet again as he lost all his patience and pushed your head onto him. Your lips wrapped around his cock, taking as much of him into your mouth as possible. What you couldn’t fit, you wrapped your hand around. You began to bob your head up and down, hollowing out your cheeks. With lidded eyes he watched as you took him deep into your throat, holding your head there. He let out a strangled moan, his hips instinctively pushing up into your mouth causing the tip of his length to hit the back of your throat. The choking sound you made was almost enough to make him come there and then. Instead, he pulled you off him, his thumb wiping at the corners of your mouth. You looked picturesque, the way your lips were swollen, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. This was one of the ways he was always going to remember you on lonely nights when he couldn’t have you anymore.  

“I need you so much,” he whispered, the pain in his voice like a knife to your heart. “Even if it's for the last time, I just... I fuckin’ need you.”  

You didn’t say anything, instead you slid your underwear off down your legs, moving to straddled him yet again. You took him in your hand, positioning him at your entrance before you sank down onto him. You moaned as you took all of him inside you, sitting on his thick length to give yourself time to adjust. His fingers dug into your hips; head tilted back as he looked at you. “You’re so beautiful. I... love you.” 

You rested your forehead against his, eyes squeezing shut as if it was too painful to even look at him after saying that knowing what was going to come after this was over. Regardless, you replied softly. “I love you, too.” 

“Don’t move. Not yet. I...just want to look at you... so I can keep this picture in my head,” his finger trailed along your jaw, his eyes piercing into yours now that you’d opened them. “You were always the best thing that had ever happened to me and nothing will change that.” 

You let the moment linger between you, knowing that you both needed it. Your eyes scanned his face, committing his dark, gorgeous eyes, strong jawline and perfect lips to your memory. Slowly but surely, you began to lift your hips up then back down. His hands on your hips guiding your movements, small breathy groans coming from the beautiful man in front of you. He leaned up, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. His tongue slipped between your parted lips, tongue tangling with yours as you picked up your pace. Seunghyun’s own hips bucked up into yours, his lips never leaving yours. One of your hands cupped his cheek, his soft skin flushed beneath your touch. The grunts and groans coming from him were some of your favourite sounds, ones that you’d miss so very much.  

“I’m so close, baby,” you panted, your hips beginning to lose the rhythm. Seunghyun took this as his cue to wrap his arm around your body, laying you back on the plush seat of the car.  

“Shh, let me take care of you,” he rasped, his body covering yours as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. He thrust into you hard and fast, your body moving with the force of his movements. Nails raked down his back (your turn to mark him as yours now), the sting of it causing him to moan. He had always loved when you did that. 

He could feel your walls squeezing him, letting him know you were close. So, he brought the pad of his thumb down, rubbing tight, small circles against your clit. His lips whispering “I love you” against yours as he changed to slow, deep thrusts. That was it. You couldn’t take anymore, your walls clamping down around him, your lips singing his name like a prayer as you came undone. He didn’t take his eyes off your face as he watched your orgasm hit you, it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He kept up his rhythm but soon faltered when he heard you whisper you loved him. He stilled, his hips flush against you as he came, emptying himself inside you with a deep groan. 

He collapsed on top of you, your sweat slicked bodies pressing together. You ran your hand through his hair as he nuzzled into your neck. Why couldn’t you stay this way? Just wrapped up in your own little bubble with the man you loved. But, no. Reality wasn’t that kind to either of you. You both wanted different thing and as selfish as Seunghyun wanted to be, he couldn’t do that to you. No matter what, you deserved to find everything you’d ever wanted but he wasn’t the one that could give you that. 

He lifted his head, a sad frown on his beautiful face. “I’m staying at Jiyong’s tonight but... I’ll drive you home and come get my stuff tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” 

That was all you could say otherwise you’d break down. The fact that this was really it was all consuming pain. And, as much as this had been the perfect way to say goodbye to each other, it made it all the much harder. 

How were you supposed to ever let him go? 

[evilminji]

Weird/Unusual Crossover time?

Weird/unusual crossover time! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ (oh shit~! She's back on her billshit!) (That's RIGHT! Nothing is sacred and NO ONE IS SAFE!)

ANYWAYS~

Danny Phantom. Cultivation Novels (my current obsession). A match made in hell? Or an exciting new adventure‽ Cause like... the Zone DOES go EVERYWHERE, right? Infinite means Infinite means "Literally Without End" Infinite.

As in, Forever.

You COULD, in fact, pick a direction and just... keep going. Forever. For always. Without end or limits. The Zone is not just "really, REALLY big and we need a word your mind could comprehend." Not "as big as a galaxy or the known universe". It is? On a scale that even GODS can not comprehend.

The place GODS go to die. A place they are BORN from. The great primordial soup where universe end and begin anew. Where the cracks are glued backed together, and the souls of the living flow in and out. Endless scraps of fabric, realities, atop a churning sea of green. Keeping everything even.

After all... you can't CREATE a soul. They got to come from SOMEWHERE. Where do you THINK they arrive from? When populations grow? Thin air‽

But... ah~, there in lays the rub, doesn't it? Would knowing the Zone? Knowing SOME of it's mysteries and machinations (for NO ONE, not even all the Ancients COMBINED, can ever claim to understand even a fraction of them all.) mean that Danny??? Was powerful in a Cultivation reality?

He's certainly a powerful GHOST.

But?? They FIGHT ghosts all the time. Wouldn't he be WEAKER and more in danger? As they try to hell the restless spirit move on? Not knowing he is balanced between life and death? They could very well kill him.

Which, given the moral standards of the Realm? Would NOT be viewed as a bad thing.

But! On the OTHER hand?

He is a ZONE ghost. Not a simple spirit. Far beyond what they are used to dealing with. Arguably? ASCENDANT. From a higher plane of existence. A lower one. Several steps to the side. He is, for all intents and purposes, shrimp colors to the human eye. The color blue to a blind man. An orb to the two dimensional.

CAN he even interact with the world's cultivation systems? Does it recognize him as a god? A dead man? Some sort of ascendant dead god?

Something... Not Right™

Yet still utterly natural? Clearly not meant to be here. Yet... not wicked. Granted, not, perhaps, benevolent. But...

Because what IS he? Is he a boy? A man? A corpse? Immortal, perhaps? Is this creature a demon? The resentful dead? They DONT KNOW! It... probably scares a lot of them. Makes some of them think he is a test. Probably makes OTHERS wanna fight (friend? Hey! New friend!).

And like? Why would Danny even BE there? He's already immortal. The swords are pretty cool... but he has Fenton tech.

So, WHY?

I propose?

His well know Anger Issues. His fear of becoming Dan. He's heard meditation is good for shit like that, right? Mindfulness and stuff. Sam recommended it. And? They were watching Fantasy Kung-fu 17, "bamboo monks of vengeance" (now with more slow motion aerial battles). So he was like? Hmmmm... those misty valleys and mountains shots DO looks relaxing... I could go camping...

Maybe find a mysterious old kung-fu monk? Is that what they are? Tucker. Tucker! What's the name of this genre again? Xanxia. Yeah. That! I'll do the whole "live, laugh, love. Hot girl, cultivation summer" thing! That'll fix my shit! This is a GREAT idea!

Thus? Danny. Terrorizing some poor Xanxia Cultivation world with his Zone Ghostiness. Pretending to be a human... very, VERY badly. Yes, hello Fellow Locals! It is him! Average Human Man! Take me to your *checks notes* Cultivation Sect! *smiles with far too many teeth*

#nailedit he's gonna get SUCH a good job at blending in! A thing that is both real and possible to achieve!

@babbling-babull @legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay @hdgnj @spidori @the-witchhunter @leftnotright @lolottes

[runninriot]

Another Love

written for the @corrodedcoffinfest pop-up event It's Complicated

wc: 1.966 | rated: M | tags: past friends with benefits Eddie/Jeff, newly established Steddie, unrequited love, complicated feelings, mild hurt/comfort, friendship | also on ao3

   “Guys, this is Steve. Steve, these are the guys. My best friends, who will not embarrass me today. Right?”

Eddie laughs, tries not to let his nerves show by making a silly grimace in the direction of Gareth, who lovingly scoffs and rolls his eyes, says ‘You don’t need us for that, you’re pretty good at embarrassing yourself‘, just to be a little shit. And maybe that’s good, because it means they’re not pretending to be something they’re not. There’s no need to mask who they are in front of Steve, Eddie knows that.

He knows that, once they’ve warmed up to each other, they’ll get along just fine. But still, he can’t shake the funny feeling in his gut.

This is a big deal for him, finally introducing his boyfriend to the people who, apart from Wayne, mean most to him in this world. He wants, no, needs them to accept this new person in his life, because there is one thing he’s absolutely certain of – Steve is here to stay.

Gareth and Doug, being the lifesavers they are, immediately start wrapping Steve up in a conversation and it helps ease Eddie’s nerves a bit. But out of the corner of his eyes, he can see the tension in Jeff’s shoulders. Can sense his resentment of the situation even if Jeff is obviously trying his best not to show it.

He stands off to the side, pretending to tune his guitar which he’s definitely not. Eddie knows he’s already done that before even coming to the venue. Out of all of them, Jeff’s always been the closest to a professional.

It’s something Eddie admires, one of those things he loves about him.

Jeff and Eddie go way back, met long before Gareth and Doug entered the picture. They’ve been friends forever, through thick and thin, always together against the rest of the world.

He’d never admit it out loud but Jeff’s opinion matters most. And that’s not only because he’s his best best friend. It’s also because he doesn’t know what he’d do if Jeff didn’t give him his blessing. There’s so much at stake here, so much to possibly end in ruins. This is so much more complicated than just wanting his friend's approval - there's more to consider. More to fight for. So that's what Eddie is willing to do.

   “Hey, man,” Eddie claps Jeff on the back trying to act casual, ignoring the twisted knots in his stomach. “Can we talk?”

   “If it’s about your boyfriend, then no.”

Jeff takes a big swig from his beer, the look in his eyes unusually cold and distant.

   “Come on, man. I thought we agreed that-”

   “Well, I’ve changed my mind. Look, Eddie. I’m happy for you, I really am. But you cannot expect me to put on a brave face and pretend that this doesn’t fuck me up.”

His words slice through Eddie like a knife, sharp and quick, no mercy on his heart.

Eddie probably deserves it for thinking he could ignore the giant ass elephant in the room and simply wait it out. Wait for the problem to solve itself, for everything to go back to normal, back to easy. Because truth is, there is nothing easy about this.

Eddie knew from the start that this would be complicated, no matter how much he wished it wasn’t. He knew and yet, stupid as he is, he still hoped they could just... move on. Not forget but maybe lock up the memories of a different time and go back to how things were before. When they were just friends, no feelings involved. At least not those kind of feelings.

   “I’m sorry, Jeff,” he says, head tilted down to avoid his friend’s piercing gaze, “I know it’s-“

It’s what? Hard? Unfair? Well, yeah, obviously. At least from Jeff’s point of view. But what is Eddie supposed to do? He didn’t choose to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have feelings for Jeff, only they’re different now. Not that he ever-

It’s a cruel thought, even though it’s true. They both know it because Eddie never pretended to be in love when he wasn’t. Was he attracted to Jeff? Oh, absolutely. Otherwise they wouldn’t have ended up in bed together. More than once. And it wasn't just the prospect of easy sex that had Eddie coming back for more - it was the thought of falling asleep in Jeff's arms. To be held by someone who makes you feel safe and cared for. He loved the kisses and giggles and how okay it was to be vulnerable and open because there's nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide because Jeff already knows everything about him.

The problem is, while it had all started out as casual fun between mates, something changed over time. Something Eddie noticed too late or he would’ve ended it sooner. Jeff never told him about his feelings, so that’s on him, but it is just as much Eddie’s fault because- he should’ve known anyway. Should’ve noticed the shift. But he hadn’t. Or maybe he simply refused to acknowledge it. Selfishly ignored it until he couldn’t anymore.

When he met Steve, he instantly knew he needed to put his cards on the table and come clean about what this would mean for him and Jeff. Told him about this guy he likes – ‘Don’t know if it’s mutual but I’d like to give it a shot, see where it’s going. Maybe it’s nothing but maybe- I think he could be the one.’

And at first, Jeff seemed to be fine with that. Said he understood that they couldn’t hook up anymore. Said he’d miss the fucking but ‘Eh, whatever.’

Only it wasn’t whatever.

But Eddie was so lost in his own head, so caught up on Steve, Steve, Steve that he didn’t see what it was doing to Jeff. Didn’t notice him pulling away more and more until Gareth mentioned it. Asked if something had happened between the two because they were acting weird.

So, when he finally confronted Jeff, things seemed... okay. Better. At least that’s what he thought when Jeff told him he’d get over it, that he just needed some time to adjust. Promised Eddie that nothing had changed when it came to their friendship but right now, Eddie isn’t so sure about that anymore.

And it kills him.

Makes him lie awake at night because he can’t stop thinking about all the worst possible outcomes. What if this breaks up the band? What if Eddie loses his best friend?

   “I don’t want to lose you, Jeff.”

    You’re up in five, someone calls from the side of the stage and Eddie knows this is the worst possible timing for a heart-to-heart. They should be getting ready, he should be talking to his boyfriend who he abandoned and left with people he doesn’t really know, in a place he’s never been to before. But he can’t step away, can’t leave it like that, not when Jeff still hasn’t said anything.

   “I need you. You’re my best friend and I- I love you.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, to use this word, this feeling that is the cause for this mess and the reason for Jeff’s pain. But it’s the right word nonetheless, because it’s the truth. Eddie loves him. Maybe not like he loves Steve but different from the way he loves Gareth and Doug. This love goes deeper than friendship, soul-deep.

   “I love you. You’re important to me and I know- I know you're hurt and I am sorry but I can’t change that my heart belongs to Steve.”

Eddie can’t stop, knows he should because right now, he’s only talking himself deeper into the hole he dug for himself. But he refuses to lie, refuses to try to appease Jeff with false hope – he needs to know where they stand. And if that means Jeff will tell him to fuck off, if that will be the end of their friendship, then-

   “I hate you.”

Eddie’s heart stops at Jeff's words, eyes filling with tears as he braces himself for the biggest regret he'll ever have in his life.

   “I hate you so much for even thinking you could ever lose me!”

They’ve got eyes on them now, Eddie can feel it, but he doesn’t care. Can’t, not when Jeff moves closer, taking one of Eddie’s hands to place it on his chest, right above his heart.

   “It hurts. It fucking hurts. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be friends anymore.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to say, just sniffs and blinks away the tears blurring his vision.

   “It’ll take some time for me to... get over this. But you and me, we’re bound for life, man. So don’t you ever think you’re getting rid of me. You hear me, asshole?”

Jeff smiles at him and even though there’s still sadness in his eyes, Eddie can feel that he means it.

   “Uh... sorry to interrupt but, um, they said you’re up next so I-“

When Eddie turns to the voice coming from behind, he finds Steve standing there, hands in his pocket, nervously looking to the side.

   “I’ll be down there somewhere. Have- have fun.”

Steve’s about to turn around, ready to step away but Eddie can't let him go like that, so he stops him.

   “Baby, wait!”

He looks back at Jeff, hoping, praying to find what he’s searching for in the other man’s eyes.

   “Go on, your boyfriend looks like he’s waiting for a kiss. Would be rude to leave him hanging.”

   “Are you gonna be mad at me if I do?” Eddie’s not asking for permission to kiss his boyfriend, not really. But he’s willing to tone it down around Jeff if that’s what it takes.

Jeff scoffs, lets go of Eddie’s hand and takes a step back.

   “So mad. But I’ll get to have you all to myself for the next 40 minutes so I guess it’s fine,” he jokes and it feels like a peace offering. Like maybe it’s the first step to better, before hopefully they can go back to how things were when everything was good, not complicated.

   “I love you,” Eddie says again just because.

   “Love you too, man. Now go take care of your man and then let’s get this fucking show started.”

Eddie nods, taking another moment to look at his best friend before walking over to Steve.

   “Everything good with you and Jeff?” Steve asks quietly as Eddie wraps his arms around his middle to pull him close.

   “I think it will be, yeah.”

Eddie's glad he never made a secret out of his past with Jeff, couldn’t bear withholding something so crucial from Steve. He needed him to know that no matter what, Jeff will always play an important role in his life. That if Steve wanted to be with him, he’d have to accept that there will always be a place in his heart that’s occupied by someone else.

Steve throws a look over Eddie’s shoulder and smiles to himself before leaning in to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

   “Is that all?” Eddie asks when his boyfriend pulls away, leaving him longing for more.

   “For now,” Steve confirms with a wink, “Your friends are waiting.”

With that, he wanders off into the crowd and Eddie, for the first time in weeks, feels a weight lift off his shoulders and heart.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be complicated.

Maybe it just needs time and trust and mutual understanding.

He’s willing to try, willing to do everything to make this work

Because what he’s definitely not willing to do, is to give up one love for another.

[iz-belljolie]

“𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞”

dilf!art donaldson x reader

authors note- hope you guys like! This is a little different from what I usually write but I think I'm gonna start a series of this!

cw: daddy kink, age gap, and ofc sexual conent.

You met him at the club. He was sitting alone, and you felt bad. You ditched your friends and went over to him and started talking. You guys really clicked; the conversation never became boring. But you started pushing him. "Do you have a girlfriend...or maybe a wife?", "how old are you?", "do you live around here?". When you asked if he's ever been with a younger girl, he decided that it was enough. He chuckled and shook his head. "I think we should part ways."

"I didn't scare you, did I?" You smirked at him, picking up your drink and putting the straw in your mouth and sucking, all while keeping your eyes focused on him, and his nervous expression.

Art's too lonely...he couldn't keep putting on the facade that he didn't want you. So that's why you ended up in his car, your feet up on the leather seat, your head turned towards him, smiling as you felt the wind blowing through your hair.

"Stop driving like a grandpa, go faster Art." You shouted over the sound of the wind. You felt him speed up. He glanced at you and smiled before putting more pressure on the accelerator, the mph going from 45 to 75, then 80. For the first time in forever, Art felt adrenaline pumping in his body, like drugs.

You stuck your head out the window and grinned as the wind crashed into your face. After a moment you brought your head back in and looked at Art.

"So, how'd you afford a car like this?" You asked, closing the window.

"I was a tennis player. And uh I guess I still have perks from that being my career." He replied.

You hummed. "Wow, tennis. That pretty cool." You stared at the side of his face, admiring his features. He glanced at you and gave you a small smile.

"I guess." He said coldly.

"Tennis is fucking sexy. The way players moan when they hit the ball, the way they can move their body, It's all so intense. Like, it's something completely different than a sport."

Art hummed. "I guess." He said again.

"And they put so much into it...physical training, mental training... it's a lot." You murmured, putting your hand on his thigh, keeping your eyes on him the whole time.

"Yeah...it- it really is a lot." He sighed.

"What do you do?" He asked.

"Little ol' me?" You smiled. "I'm in college."

He took in a sharp breath, his body tensing up.

"Fuck, you're younger than I thought."

You laughed. "God you're acting like I'm in high school. I'm almost 20."

He scoffed. "You might as well be in fucking high school y/n, Jesus Christ."

At this point you guys were driving through a neighborhood of mansions. Art clicked a button that was on the sun visor and the gates of an upcoming house opened. He pulled into the driveway slowly, the gate closing behind the car.

You let out a scoffed laugh. "Holy fuck, this is your house?"

"Yeah."

He put the car into park, then turned it off before exhaling sharply. You unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned in closer to him.

"I don't care about your age Art. You seem like a really good guy, you're hot, respectful, and everything I've dreamed of."

He turned his head to look at you. His eyes had this glassy look, like he was about to cry.

"Are you sure?" His voice a whisper.

"Yes." You whispered.

His house is fucking huge, and just beautiful. The decorations, furnishings, just the whole aesthetic.

He poured you a glass of wine while he lit a cigarette for himself.

"I though tennis players weren't supposed to smoke."

He laughed, which caused him to choke on the smoke and cough.

"I'm not a tennis player anymore sweetie."

"Right." You smiled, taking a sip of the expensive wine.

"You're so interesting Art; I could talk to you for hours." You sighed contently.

"You're fucking drunk y/n." He laughed.

You shook your head. "No, no, you're like so complex, it's amazing, no guy my age is like that."

"You seem really smart. You shouldn't be hanging out with someone like me." He said, his voice light and breathy.

"I want to..." You murmured, walking up to him, your faces inches from each other.

He put out his cigarette on the ash tray that was placed on the marble island in the middle of the kitchen. He lifted his hand and stroked your cheek with his knuckles, his eyes observing your face intensely. You grabbed his wrist softly, guiding his hand so his fingers were near your lips. He took the hint and stroked your lips with his pointer figure, before pushing it through your pillowy lips. You suck gently on the tip of his finger, licking around it, soaking it with your spit. His breathing increased, and the next thing you knew he ripped his finger out of your mouth.

"We can't do this." He said.

"Please..." You whispered, looking up at him through your lashes, tears glassing over your eyes, attempting to both make him feel bad and seduce him.

"I can be a good girl...daddy." You whispered.

He gasped softly. "don't fucking say that." He scolded. Although the bulge in his slacks hardened.

"I'll do whatever you say Mr. Donaldson..."

"How do you know my last name?" His eyebrows furrowed.

"I know all about you Artie...I'm a big fan..."

"You're sick." He whispered.

You laughed. "Then why are you so fucking hard?" You tilted your head and cupped his bulge.

He moaned softly. "W-what are you doing to me?" He murmured under his breath.

"I wanna worship you." You murmured, setting your glass down before running your hands up and down his strong arms.

You ended up in his king size bed, laid out on his silky bed sheets. He ripped your clothes off effortlessly, and treated you like you weighed nothing.

You fucked into you like you were a sex doll, your legs over his shoulders, your hands gripped onto his arms, which were holding him up above you. You were so wet you could hear the squelching of his cock thrusting in and out of your hole.

"You were just so thirsty for my cock huh? You can't help it, you just need to be filled by your daddy, right baby?" He gritted out, moaning from pleasure immediately after speaking.

"Yes, yes yes daddy, I need you." You blabbed in between desperate, punched out moans.

"You-you're so big, it's stretching me apart daddy." You whined, your eyes squeezed shut.

"It's okay princess, you'll get used to it." He panted.

He kept slamming himself into your abused pussy, the wet white ring around his base causing him to moan as soon as his saw it.

"I'm gonna cum" You whimpered, gasping for air, your grip on his arms getting tighter.

A moment later, your mouth opened in a silent scream as your orgasm rushed through you.

"Fuck!" You gasped, letting out a cry, your legs squirming.

He moved onto his knees and wrapped his arms around your thighs, going even faster.

"So close baby, m' almost there." He panted, his voice a pitch higher. His hair was soaked with sweat, and all messed up, facing every direction.

You cried out. "too much-s' too much Art!"

A second later he groaned and gripped your thighs so tight you were sure they would bruise. You felt spurts of his seed surround your walls. He gasped for air as he pulled out and gripped his cock, stroking your puffy red pussy, mixing his release with yours. You eyes were shut and your body was like dough in his hands. He left your sensitive cunt alone and flopped down next to you with a huff.

"You okay?" He murmured.

You smiled to yourself.

"Perfect." And the only reason you were so perfect is because you knew you fucked with him good, and now Art Donaldson was wrapped around your little finger.

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Slide Away

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader

Summary: Once deeply in love during his LSU days, the pressures of their evolving lives caused their relationship to crumble. Despite their efforts to hold on, the emotional and physical distance proved too great, leading to a quiet but inevitable breakup.

Inspired by: Slide Away by Miley Cyrus

The lights of the stadium had never shined brighter than the night Joe Burrow led LSU to a national championship. It was the night everything changed—for him, for his career, for the life you had envisioned together.

You had been there through it all, from late-night study sessions to early morning workouts, from the nervous anticipation before games to the celebrations that followed victories. You were his constant, and he was yours. But the moment the confetti rained down, signaling the beginning of his NFL journey, the distance between you both began to form, slowly and painfully.

Your music career was taking off in a way you had always dreamed of, and his world was shifting at a speed neither of you could control. The late-night phone calls turned into text messages, then to silence. The distance wasn't just physical anymore—it was emotional, and neither of you had the tools to fix it.

You both tried. You tried to hold on to what once was, to the love that had shaped so much of your lives. But in the end, love wasn’t enough to combat the reality of different schedules, different priorities, different lives. And so, after one last exhausting argument about missed calls and broken promises, you let go.

It wasn’t bitter. It wasn’t ugly. It was just…over.

The months passed, and you found yourself in a studio, pouring your heartbreak into melodies. The words flowed easily because they were the truth:

Once upon a time it was paradise Once upon a time I was paralyzed Think I'm gonna miss these harbor lights But it's time to let it go

You thought about the nights in Baton Rouge, the way you’d sit on the hood of his car, looking at the city lights reflecting off the water. How you had believed in forever back then. But forever wasn’t real. Not for the people you had become.

Once upon a time it was made for us Woke up one day, it had turned to dust Baby, we were found, but now we're lost So it's time to let it go

You weren’t seventeen anymore. You weren’t the girl who thought love could withstand anything. And he wasn’t the boy who had promised that no matter where life took him, he’d always find his way back to you.

Move on, we're not seventeen I'm not who I used to be You say that everything changed You're right, we're grown now

When the song dropped, the world speculated. The whispers about Joe being the inspiration grew louder, but he never said a word. Neither did you. Because this wasn’t about drama or making a statement. It was about closure.

One day, you got a text from him. No preamble, no unnecessary words.

“It’s a beautiful song.”

And that was enough.

Joe had his life. You had yours. And though they had once intertwined so perfectly, they had unraveled into something different now.

So you let the memory of him slide away, just like he had let you.

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, always and forever ࿐‧₊ death by a thousand cuts

chapter summary: After trying to get pregnant for a year, you and Logan go see a fertility doctor.

word count: 5.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is probably the shortest chapter i've wrote for this series, oops—

warnings/tags: reader wears glasses, trying for a baby, talks of pregnancy and fertility, hormones, fluff, slight angst

series masterlist - chapter 4 → chapter 6

After over a year of trying the two of you made the decision to see a fertility doctor.

You sat in the waiting room, your fingers nervously twisting the strap of your bag. Logan sat beside you, his hand resting on your knee, grounding you with his quiet presence. The sterile smell of the clinic mixed with the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead, making the space feel too clinical, too impersonal for something so intimate.

“You okay?” Logan asked softly, his thumb brushing against your knee.

You nodded but didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, just... nervous, I guess.”

“Nothing to be nervous about, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and steady. “We’re just figuring out what’s what. No rush, no pressure.”

You glanced at him then, his calm demeanor easing some of the tension in your chest. “I know. It’s just... I don’t know. I feel like we’re opening Pandora’s box or something.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, leaning in closer. “Pandora’s box, huh? Thought you were supposed to be the scientist between us.”

You managed a small smile, your nerves settling just a little. “I am. And scientifically, Pandora’s box didn’t end well.”

“Maybe not, but we’re not dealin’ with myths here. We’re dealin’ with you and me—and we’ve faced worse than a box full of trouble, haven’t we?”

Before you could answer, the nurse called your name. You stood, Logan’s hand brushing your lower back as you followed her into the consultation room.

---

The doctor was kind, a middle-aged woman with a warm smile and a straightforward manner that you appreciated. She went over your medical history, asked a series of questions, and explained what the process would involve.

“We’ll start with some basic tests,” she said, her tone reassuring. “Blood work, ultrasounds, and a sperm analysis for Logan. From there, we’ll have a clearer picture of what’s going on.”

You glanced at Logan, half-expecting him to bristle at the mention of his part in the testing, but he surprised you by nodding without hesitation.

“Whatever we need to do,” he said simply.

The doctor’s smile widened. “That’s a great attitude. And I’ll be here to guide you through every step, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

---

After the appointment, the two of you walked back to Logan’s truck in comfortable silence. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the parking lot, and the crisp autumn air carried the faint scent of leaves and woodsmoke.

Logan opened the passenger door for you, waiting until you were settled before climbing in on the driver’s side. As he started the engine, he glanced over at you, his hazel eyes steady and warm.

“You feel better?” he asked.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think so. The doctor was nice. She made it seem... manageable.”

“Good,” Logan said, his hand reaching out to rest on your thigh as he backed out of the parking space. “We’ll take it one step at a time. No point in gettin’ ahead of ourselves.”

You placed your hand over his, squeezing gently. “Thanks for coming with me. I know this isn’t exactly your comfort zone.”

Logan smirked, his eyes flicking to you briefly. “Darlin’, my comfort zone’s about ten feet away from a fight. This? This is easy. ‘Cause it’s for you.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, warmth spreading through your chest. You leaned over to press a quick kiss to his cheek, your glasses bumping his temple in the process.

“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice soft.

Logan gave you a small smile, his hand tightening on your thigh. “Anytime.”

---

That evening, you found yourself in the kitchen with Jean, who was chopping vegetables for dinner while you leaned against the counter, a mug of tea cradled in your hands.

“How’d it go?” Jean asked, her green eyes flicking to you as she placed the knife down.

“Good, I think,” you said, exhaling slowly. “The doctor was nice. She explained everything really well. It’s just... a lot to think about.”

Jean nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “It’s normal to feel that way. But you’re not alone in this, Y/N. You’ve got Logan, and you’ve got us. Whatever you need, we’re here.”

Her words brought a small smile to your lips, and you reached out to squeeze her hand. “Thanks, Jean. That means a lot.”

“Anytime,” she said, her smile matching yours.

The sound of the front door closing signaled Logan’s return from the garage, and a moment later, he appeared in the kitchen doorway. His gaze immediately found you, and the soft look in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded, setting your mug down and crossing the room to meet him. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Logan wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he murmured against your skin.

Jean watched the two of you with a small smile before turning back to her vegetables, giving you the space to share the quiet moment with Logan.

---

“Rogue? What’re you doing? You aren’t my student anymore.”

You adjusted your glasses as you spotted her lingering near the hallway outside the classroom, her gloved hands tucked behind her back. She turned around, wearing a sheepish smile.

“I know, but Bobby said you’re takin’ the kids to the New York Hall of Science,” Rogue said, brushing a strand of her two-toned hair out of her face. “Thought maybe I could tag along?”

“You want to come on a field trip?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rogue shrugged. “Well, it’s better than sittin’ around the mansion all day. And I’ve been wantin’ to see that museum anyway.”

Before you could answer, Kitty’s head popped out from behind Rogue, her grin wide and unapologetic. “We thought it’d be fun! Plus, you could use some extra chaperones, right?”

“Extra chaperones or extra trouble?” you teased, though you couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm. Bobby appeared a moment later, looking far less guilty than he should have.

“We’re all adults now,” he said, a little too smugly. “Technically, we’re helping.”

You folded your arms, trying to keep your expression stern. “Technically, you’re supposed to let me know before inviting yourselves.”

“C’mon, Y/N,” Kitty said, clasping her hands dramatically. “We’ll behave, promise!”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Alright, fine. But if you distract the students or cause chaos, I’m leaving you in Queens.”

“Deal,” Rogue said quickly, already grinning.

---

The drive to the museum was lively, to say the least. The younger students buzzed with excitement, while Rogue and Kitty kept up a steady stream of commentary from the back of the bus. You tried to focus on the road, but you couldn’t help glancing in the mirror every so often, smiling at their antics.

When you finally arrived at the New York Hall of Science, the group poured out of the bus, their energy palpable. You gave them a quick rundown of the rules before leading the way inside.

The exhibits were an instant hit. The students scattered to explore interactive displays, their laughter and chatter filling the space. Rogue and Kitty stuck close to you at first, their curiosity about the exhibits almost childlike.

“This is pretty cool,” Kitty admitted, tapping the glass of a display case showcasing early quantum mechanics experiments. “Bet it’s right up your alley.”

You smiled, adjusting your glasses as you read the plaque beside it. “It’s fascinating. Physics helps us understand so much about the universe—and how much we still don’t know.”

Rogue leaned closer, examining the display. “You ever think about where we fit into all that? Mutants, I mean.”

The question caught you off guard, but you answered honestly. “All the time. I think… we’re just another piece of the puzzle. We might not always fit neatly, but we’re part of the picture.”

Rogue nodded thoughtfully, and the three of you fell into a comfortable silence as you continued exploring.

As the day went on, you felt yourself relaxing. For a few hours, the worries that had been weighing on you—doctor’s appointments, tests, and the ache of waiting—faded into the background.

By the time you returned to the mansion that evening, the students were tired but buzzing with excitement, chattering about their favorite exhibits as they spilled out of the bus. Logan was waiting for you by the front steps, his sharp gaze scanning the group until it landed on you.

“How’d it go?” he asked, his voice low as you approached him.

“Good,” you said, smiling. “No one got lost, and no one broke anything. I’d call that a win.”

Logan smirked, his hand finding the small of your back as he guided you inside. “Told ya you’d survive.”

You leaned into his touch, letting out a content sigh. “Yeah, yeah. You were right.”

“Damn straight,” he teased, his smirk softening into something more affectionate as he glanced down at you.

And just like that, the weight of the day disappeared, replaced by the quiet comfort of knowing Logan was by your side.

---

When you started taking Clomid three weeks ago, you thought it would speed things up—help you. Instead, it left you with hot flashes, cramps, and, worst of all, mood swings.

You’d read about the potential side effects, of course. The medical literature had been clear, and you prided yourself on being well-informed. But reading about it and living it were two entirely different things.

The latest mood swing hit you like a freight train when Logan entered the kitchen. He was carrying an empty coffee mug, his usual calm demeanor unbothered by the chaos of breakfast cleanup around him.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted, placing the mug in the sink. “You alright?”

His voice was gentle, concerned, and yet it lit a spark of irritation in you. You didn’t know why, but the question made your chest tighten.

“Do I look alright?” you snapped before you could stop yourself.

Logan blinked, taken aback. His brow furrowed, and his eyes searched your face for a clue about what had just happened. “I, uh, didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t mean anything,” you interrupted, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “But maybe I’m tired of people asking if I’m okay. Maybe I’m not okay, Logan. Is that what you want to hear?”

The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy, and as soon as they left your mouth, regret settled in. Logan didn’t deserve this. You knew he didn’t. But the mix of hormones and frustration bubbling inside you didn’t care.

Logan stepped closer, his expression softening. “Sweetheart,” he said quietly, his hands reaching out to rest on your arms. “Talk to me. What’s goin’ on?”

You pulled back slightly, tears pricking at your eyes. “I don’t know! I just... I feel like I’m losing my mind. This stupid Clomid is supposed to help, but all it’s doing is making me feel awful. And I hate snapping at you like this. I hate it.”

Logan’s hands slid down to yours, his grip firm and reassuring. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. You’re dealin’ with a lot, and it’s not easy. But you’re not doin’ this alone, remember? I’m right here.”

You sniffled, looking down at your intertwined hands. “I know. I just... I hate feeling like this. Like I’m not myself.”

Logan tilted your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’re still you, Y/N. You’re just dealin’ with somethin’ tough right now. And if you need to yell or cry or whatever, that’s fine. I can take it.”

A small laugh escaped you, even as tears rolled down your cheeks. “You’re too good to me.”

He smirked, his thumbs brushing your skin. “Damn right I am. Now, how about I make you some tea and we sit down for a bit? You don’t gotta push yourself so hard.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “Okay. Tea sounds good.”

Logan pressed a kiss to your temple before releasing you to put the kettle on. As he moved around the kitchen, the weight in your chest started to lift. You weren’t in this alone, and no matter how many mood swings or bad days came your way, Logan would be there.

---

Later that night, Logan surprised you with a hot bath. He didn’t say a word about it—just took your hand and led you to the bathroom, where he’d set up candles around the tub and filled it with steaming water and a bit of your favorite lavender bath soak.

You stared at the scene, your chest tightening with emotion. “Logan, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“Maybe not,” he said, his hands resting on your shoulders as he gently guided you toward the tub. “But I wanted to. Figured you could use a break.”

The warmth in his hazel eyes melted away any lingering guilt, and you leaned up to kiss him softly. “Thank you.”

He smirked, stepping back to let you undress. “I’ll be in the other room if you need me. Take your time.”

As you sank into the hot water, the tension in your body slowly ebbed away. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth soothe you, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe.

---

When you emerged from the bathroom later, wrapped in one of Logan’s oversized flannels, he was waiting for you on the couch with a mug of tea and a soft blanket. He pulled you down beside him, tucking you under his arm without a word.

“I’m sorry again,” you murmured against his chest.

“Don’t need to apologize,” Logan said, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your shoulder. “Just glad you’re feelin’ a little better.”

You nodded, letting yourself relax into him. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew one thing for certain: Logan would be right there with you, every step of the way.

---

You’re in your bedroom folding laundry, trying to distract yourself from the mild discomfort that’s been following you all day. Logan’s boots catch your attention—the heavy leather pair sitting next to the closet instead of neatly inside it, where you’ve asked him to put them a dozen times. Something snaps.

"Why can't you just put them away, Logan?" you huff, pointing at the offending boots with all the energy of someone starting a revolution.

Logan, stretched out on the bed with a book resting on his chest, blinks at you like you’ve just spoken another language. "Darlin’, they’re not even—”

"Don’t ‘darling’ me!" you cut him off, your voice sharpening. "I’ve been cleaning all afternoon, and you can't even manage the closet! It’s right there!" You gesture toward the closet door like it's miles away instead of two feet.

He sets the book aside, sitting up slowly. “Okay.” His voice is calm, steady. “Lemme fix that.”

You cross your arms, watching as he stands, grabs the boots, and tucks them neatly inside the closet. No argument, no eye-roll, no sass. Just... compliance.

Somehow, it makes you feel worse.

By the time he turns around, your anger’s dissolved into a rush of tears that blindsides you both. Logan freezes, brows pulling together as he steps closer. "Hey, hey, what’s this now?”

You hiccup through a sob, “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to snap! I don’t know why I’m crying; it’s so dumb—”

His hands land gently on your shoulders, and he’s looking at you with those warm, steady eyes, like nothing in the world could shake him. “It ain’t dumb,” he says firmly. "You’re just feelin’ stuff. Nothin’ wrong with that."

“I yelled at you over boots,” you whisper, mortified, pressing your hands over your face.

Logan chuckles softly and pulls you against his chest, his voice rumbling against your ear. “Yeah, well, maybe I deserved it. Don’t mean I’ll stop leavin’ ‘em out now and then, though—keepin’ you on your toes.”

You let out a watery laugh, half-hidden in his shirt. “You’re impossible.”

“But I’m yours.” He kisses the top of your head, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Come on. We’ll figure the rest out after we lay down for a bit. Boots’ll be here to argue about tomorrow.”

Still sniffling, you nod and let him guide you to bed, the weight of the day slowly slipping away as his arms wrap around you.

---

You grabbed your toolkit and headed to Jean’s classroom, determined to fix the sagging bookshelf that she’d mentioned Scott was supposed to take care of weeks ago. She’d been busy helping Ororo with a project, so you figured it was the perfect opportunity to step in and help out. You were midway through tightening a screw when Scott appeared in the doorway, his brows lifting slightly in surprise.

“Y/N?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you shot back without looking up. “Fixing this bookshelf that’s been on your to-do list since forever.”

Scott blinked, clearly taken aback. “I was gonna get to it—”

“‘Gonna’ doesn’t cut it, Scott,” you interrupted, your voice rising as you stood up and placed your hands on your hips. “Jean’s been patient, but this thing’s been wobbling like a drunk giraffe for weeks. What if a kid leaned on it and it collapsed? You’ve been too busy polishing the visor or whatever it is you do instead of actually taking care of the basics around here.”

Scott’s mouth opened and closed, his expression cycling rapidly from shock to mild indignation to confusion. “Polishing the—what? I’ve been—”

“Don’t even start,” you cut him off again, waving a screwdriver for emphasis. “This isn’t just about the bookshelf. What about the training room light that’s still flickering? Or the squeaky hinge on the front door? Or—or the fact that the coffee machine still sprays everywhere every time someone tries to make espresso? All things you said you’d take care of!”

Logan had been passing by when he heard the commotion. He stopped just outside the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with amused curiosity.

Scott’s face was a study in restrained emotion—shock, embarrassment, a touch of frustration. “Y/N, I—”

“Don’t!” you snapped, jabbing the screwdriver toward him. “Some of us actually follow through on our responsibilities, Summers. Jean shouldn’t have to remind you a hundred times, and I shouldn’t have to come in here and do your job for you.”

From his perch at the door, Logan chuckled under his breath. Scott shot him a quick glare, but you were too fired up to notice.

“Okay,” Scott said, his tone unusually placating. “You’re right. I’ll take care of it, alright? No need to—”

“To what? Be upset?” you interrupted, throwing your hands up. “You think I want to yell at you about this? I don’t. But someone’s gotta hold you accountable.”

Scott stood there for a moment, clearly unsure how to respond. He nodded stiffly, turned on his heel, and walked toward the door. As he passed Logan, he muttered, “Not a word.”

Logan raised his hands in mock innocence, but the smirk tugging at his lips was impossible to miss. Once Scott was gone, Logan stepped into the room, his smirk blooming into a full grin.

“Well, that was somethin’,” he said, his voice thick with amusement. “Didn’t know you had it in you, darlin’.”

You turned to him, still holding the screwdriver, your cheeks flushed. “I—I don’t know what came over me,” you stammered, the fire in your tone extinguished as quickly as it had flared. “I just... snapped.”

Logan stepped closer, taking the screwdriver from your hand and setting it aside. “Snapped is right. Poor Summers looked like he’d been run over.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh God, I probably scared him. I’ve never yelled at anyone like that before.”

Logan chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest. “Well, you got a point about the bookshelf. And the coffee machine.”

“It’s the Clomid,” you mumbled into his shirt. “It’s making me crazy. I can’t believe I just did that.”

Logan pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You’re not crazy, sweetheart. Just feelin’ things a little stronger than usual. Summers’ll survive. Might even get his act together after this.”

You let out a weak laugh, peeking up at him through your glasses. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” Logan said, his grin softening into something warmer. “And if he doesn’t, well... you’ve got me to back you up.”

You sighed, letting yourself relax against him. “Thanks, Logan.”

"Anytime, darlin’," Logan murmured, holding you close. "But maybe give me a heads-up next time before you tear into someone. I’d like a front-row seat. In fact," he paused as his hands slid under your knees, lifting you effortlessly into his arms, "I think I’d like a demonstration."

You blinked up at him, your cheeks flushing instantly. "Logan—"

"Don’t start," he teased, his grin widening as he kicked the door closed behind him. "You’ve got me all worked up, Y/N. Not every day I see you take charge like that. Hell, I’m half tempted to leave my boots out again just to see what happens."

You squirmed in his arms, though not enough to make him let go. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, you married me," he shot back, smirking. "What’s that say about you?"

"That I make questionable decisions," you quipped, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Logan carried you into the bedroom, setting you down on the edge of the bed with a deliberate slowness that made your pulse quicken. He crouched in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees as his gaze met yours, warm and teasing.

"Questionable, huh?" His voice dropped slightly, the rough edge of it curling around the words. "Guess we better make somethin’ about it that’s real certain."

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as his hands slid up your thighs. "Logan..."

He leaned in, brushing his lips over yours in a kiss that started slow and deepened quickly, his hand slipping behind your neck to pull you closer. When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your glasses slightly askew.

"You keep kissin’ me like that, and we’re never going to get anything done," you murmured, your voice softer now.

Logan smirked, reaching up to adjust your glasses with an exaggerated care that made you roll your eyes. "Who says we’re not gettin’ somethin’ done? We got work to do, darlin’."

"Work," you echoed, half-laughing. "That’s one way to put it."

He stood, pulling you to your feet with him, his hands warm and steady against your hips. "You’ve been stressin’ over all this, Y/N. We’re in this together, yeah? You and me. No matter how long it takes."

You nodded, feeling the tension in your chest ease slightly. "I know. I just... I don’t want to let you down."

Logan’s expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. "You could never let me down. Got it?"

"Got it," you whispered, leaning into his touch.

"Good." He grinned then, a wicked glint in his eye as he pulled you closer. "Now, how ‘bout that demonstration?"

Before you could answer, he kissed you again, slower this time, his hands slipping to the small of your back. You melted against him, letting his warmth and steady presence ground you. Whatever came next, you knew you were in this together.

---

Kitty poked her head into your classroom, right now it was in between periods, students trickling in and out of classrooms. “Hey! I wanted to ask you ‘bout that article you recommended…”

You hummed, an ice pack pressed against the back of your neck. “Yeah? What about it?”

Kitty stepped further into the room, her usual bounce tempered by curiosity. “So, I read that article you told me about—the one on quantum superposition and neural networks? It was fascinating, but I got stuck on the part about entanglement thresholds. Like, how do you measure that without collapsing the system?”

You smiled despite the warmth blooming uncomfortably along your collarbone. “Good question. It’s tricky because you’re working with systems that are inherently unstable. The key is minimizing external interference—usually through isolated environments and precise calculations. I could lend you a book that explains it better.”

Kitty nodded enthusiastically. “That’d be awesome! I’m trying to connect it to this idea I had about alternate timelines—like, how they intersect and... hey, are you okay?”

Her sudden shift in tone made you blink. “What?”

“You look kind of flushed,” Kitty said, tilting her head. “And you’ve got an ice pack. Are you sick?”

You waved a hand, brushing off her concern. “I’m fine. Just a hot flash.”

Kitty’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh. Ohhh. Is it... you know... related to the Clomid?”

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat even more—not from the hormones this time. “Yeah. Side effects are no joke.”

Kitty frowned sympathetically. “That sucks. Anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you’ve invented air-conditioning I can carry in my pocket,” you joked lightly. “But thanks, Kitty. I appreciate it.”

She smiled, though her eyes were still tinged with concern. “Anytime. And hey, if you need a distraction, I’m always up for more physics talk.”

“Noted,” you said, smiling back. “Now, get out of here before you’re late to your next session.”

Kitty grinned and backed toward the door. “Alright, alright. But seriously—take it easy, Y/N.”

As she left, you leaned back in your chair, letting the ice pack cool your neck. The day felt like it was stretching on forever.

---

Later that afternoon, you were walking down the hallway, carrying a stack of freshly graded papers for your advanced physics students. Logan’s heavy footsteps caught your attention before you saw him, and you weren’t surprised when he appeared at your side, his usual scowl softening the moment he looked at you.

“Here.” He reached out and took the stack of papers from your hands without waiting for permission.

You gave him a small smile. “I can handle it, Logan.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, his tone gruff but affectionate. “Doesn’t mean you gotta.”

Before you could respond, he pulled something from his jacket pocket—a small, folding hand fan. With a flick of his wrist, he opened it and started fanning you as you walked.

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him. “Logan. What are you doing?”

“Coolin’ you down,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Where did you even get that?”

“Picked it up from Jubilee,” he said with a smirk. “She’s got a stash of these things. Said they’re ‘aesthetic.’ Whatever the hell that means.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. “Logan, I’m fine. You don’t have to—”

“Don’t start,” he interrupted, fanning you with slow, deliberate strokes. “You’re dealin’ with enough. Let me help.”

Further down the hall, Bobby and Rogue were leaning against a locker, their conversation trailing off as they watched the scene unfold.

“Is... is he fanning her?” Bobby asked, his tone equal parts disbelief and amusement.

“Looks like it,” Rogue said, her Southern drawl soft with surprise. “That’s... kinda sweet, actually.”

“Sweet?” Bobby snorted. “It’s Logan. The guy who growls at people for breathing too loud. And now he’s walking around with a fan like he’s auditioning for Pride and Prejudice.”

“Maybe he’s just different with her,” Rogue suggested, her gaze lingering on the way Logan’s expression softened as he looked at you.

Bobby raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“Just... softer,” Rogue said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

---

By the time you reached your classroom, the fan had done its job, and you felt marginally less like you were melting. Logan set the papers on your desk and tucked the fan back into his jacket.

“Thanks,” you said softly, adjusting your glasses as you looked up at him.

Logan shrugged, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a way that told you he was pleased. “Anytime, darlin’.”

As he turned to leave, he paused in the doorway, glancing back at you. “Oh, and don’t forget—peppermints are in my other pocket if you need ‘em. For the nausea.”

You felt your heart swell at the gesture, even as you shook your head in exasperation. “You spoil me, you know that?”

“Damn right I do,” he said with a smirk before disappearing down the hall.

You sighed, a soft smile lingering on your lips as you turned back to your work. Whatever challenges this journey threw your way, Logan’s steady presence made every step feel a little lighter.

---

You didn’t train much, your powers weren’t exactly something you could easily fight with. So while you occasionally participated in the Danger Room sessions you rarely hit the gym.

But in all your research, exercise is supposed to help with your fertility. Which is why you started training with Ororo rather than Logan—after last time that was never happening again.

You adjusted your glasses as you pushed open the heavy door to the gym. The faint clang of metal weights and the low murmur of conversation met your ears. You weren’t here to train, of course—you were looking for Jean, who’d promised to help you reorganize some of the chaos in your physics lab. She’d mentioned something about hitting the gym with Scott earlier, so it was your best bet for tracking her down.

Your plan to slip in and out unnoticed, however, derailed the moment you spotted Logan. He was leaning against the boxing ring ropes, wiping sweat from his brow after what looked like an intense sparring session with Scott, who was already halfway out the door. Logan glanced up, his sharp gaze locking onto you before his lips quirked into that familiar smirk.

“Look who’s wandered into enemy territory,” he teased, straightening up.

“I’m not here for this,” you said quickly, waving your hand at the gym in general. “I’m just looking for Jean.”

Logan grabbed a towel from the corner and draped it over his neck, taking slow steps toward you. “Jean left about ten minutes ago. You missed her.”

Your shoulders slumped. “Of course, she did. That’s my luck today.”

“Well, since you’re here,” he said, his tone shifting, “why don’t you step in the ring with me for a bit?”

You blinked at him, startled. “Logan, we’ve been over this. Last time I ‘trained’ with you, you nearly broke my wrist.”

“That was a love tap, and you know it.” His smirk widened, but his eyes softened in a way that made your heart flip. “Come on. Humor me, darlin’. It’s not every day you wander in here.”

You hesitated, glancing around. “Logan, I’m not exactly dressed for—”

“You don’t need to be dressed for anything fancy. Just step in the ring and show me what you’ve been learning with ‘Ro,” he interrupted, gesturing toward the ropes.

Your head tilted in confusion. “You… know I’ve been training with Ororo?”

He crossed his arms. “Course I do. I ain’t blind, sweetheart. I’ve been lettin’ you do your thing, but I’m curious now. So, get up here and show me.”

There was no talking him out of it—you knew that look all too well. With a sigh, you handed off your things to a nearby bench and climbed into the ring. Logan watched, waiting patiently as you faced him.

“I haven’t been learning much,” you admitted. “Mostly just stuff to keep me… in shape.”

“That so?” He took a step closer. “Guess I’ll be the judge of that. Come at me.”

Your cheeks flushed. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

With a resigned sigh, you brought your hands up, recalling the basic stance Ororo had drilled into you. Logan’s brow quirked approvingly.

“Not bad,” he said. “Now throw a punch.”

You hesitated, then jabbed toward him. He deflected it easily, nodding for you to try again. The first few attempts felt clumsy, but his corrections were patient, guiding you through the motions until you gained a rhythm.

“Alright, not bad at all,” he said after a few minutes. “Now let’s add some flair. Show me somethin’ you’ve picked up from Ororo.”

You inhaled deeply, your nerves threatening to surface. “Okay, but… you asked for this.”

With that, you stepped back slightly, feinted a jab, and then leaped toward him. Your legs hooked around his neck, and with a sudden twist, you executed a move Ororo had shown you in one of your sessions. Logan’s body slammed to the mat, your weight holding him down as your thighs pinned him firmly.

For a long moment, there was silence, save for your panting breaths. Your arms braced against the floor for balance as your legs stayed locked around his neck. Logan’s hands instinctively came up to grip your calves, his calloused palms firm but cautious, as though testing if the moment was real.

“Where the hell did you learn that?” Logan’s voice was hoarse, slightly winded, though his lips curved into an almost feral grin.

“Ororo,” you answered, surprised at your own breathlessness. “She said… it’s a last-resort thing.”

Logan laughed, a rich sound that sent heat to your cheeks. His grip shifted slightly, his thumb brushing your skin in a way that made you hyperaware of the position you were in. “Not bad for someone who claims she doesn’t know much.”

Your cheeks flamed, and your confidence faltered. “I—I wasn’t trying to—”

“Don’t backpedal now,” Logan interrupted, his grin widening. “This is somethin’ else.”

You stared at him, your glasses sliding slightly down your nose, and for a heartbeat, neither of you moved. His hands remained on your legs, his touch warm and grounding, and it occurred to you just how close you were.

“Uh, should I… let you up now?” you asked awkwardly.

“Probably,” Logan said, though there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. He made no immediate effort to move, and for a moment longer, the tension thickened.

Finally, you unlocked your legs and scrambled off him, adjusting your glasses with a nervous laugh. Logan got to his feet with his usual grace, his smirk still firmly in place.

“Y’know,” he drawled, “next time, don’t wait so long to show me somethin’ like that. Hell of a way to knock me on my ass.”

You rolled your eyes, your shyness kicking back in full force. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t expect it to happen again.”

“No promises, darlin’,” he said, his tone playful but his eyes watching you with unmistakable fondness.

and that is 2006!

i wanted to give a little clarity about reader's trouble conceiving. i actually briefly hinted to it in with you i'm free. i know there are a lot of women who have trouble conceiving because of various issues.

anyways, i'm not going to specify what 'condition' reader has or why she's having trouble because i want people to be able to insert themselves in her shoes, whether they have something like endometriosis, pcos, something else, or nothing at all!

as someone who has a lot of medical issues myself, one medical problem i have would make me a high-risk pregnancy. though i am not worried in the slightest because i'm 20, never dated, and the thought of children makes my skin crawl.

sorry for the rant, just thought i'd share why i'm writing this the way i am :)

[dollyhyuckii]

꒰ dollyhyuckii presents to you, her LATE !! valentine day special ₊ ˖ ་.

WHOS YOUR VALENTINE? ۟ ׅ ͡ ୨ৎ

introducing who’s your valentine? – a collection that explores the different ways love finds you on valentine’s day!

TAGLIST IS OPEN!! (COMMENT TO BE ADDED!!)

dollyhyuckii valentine’s day event.. ꒰ do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without permission ۟ ׅ ͡ ୨ৎ

୨ৎ MARK LEE ₊ ˖ ་.

၇୧ LOVE LIKE THIS !

“i don’t need some grand confession, just you here with me is enough”

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、pairing: first love!mark x childhood best friend!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、synopsis: you and mark have been best friends forever, and everyone assumes you’ll end up together, except you. mark’s never said anything, so you figured he didn’t feel that way. but when someone else asks you to be their valentine, he finally decides it’s now or never.

୨ৎ HUANG RENJUN ₊ ˖ ་.

၇୧ LOVE ON CANVAS !

“i paint what i love, and somehow it’s always you”

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、pairing: artists!renjun x muse!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、synopsis: renjun has been secretly sketching you in his notebook for months, turning his admiration into art. when the school holds a valentine’s day art showcase, he decides submit a painting of you, his confession hidden in colors and brushstrok

୨ৎ LEE JENO ₊ ˖ ་.

၇୧ CRUSHING ON YOU !

“i don’t think i believe in love at first sight.. but then i met you”

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、pairing: secret admirer!jeno x oblivious!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、synopsis: you’ve been receiving anonymous love letters in your locker for weeks now, but you have no clue who’s behind them. meanwhile, jeno, your quiet classmate who’s been crushing on you since the first day of school, is trying to find the courage to finally reveal himself on valentine’s day.

୨ৎ LEE HAECHAN₊ ˖ ་.

၇୧ HEARTSTRINGS !

“every song i play is about you, i just hope your listening”

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、pairing: musician!haechan x childhood friend!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、synopsis: haechan has always used music to say what words can’t. on valentine’s day, he gets up on stage at the schools festival, dedicating a song to a “special someone.” you never expected it to be about you, but as the lyrics unfold, you realize he’s been singing about his love for you all along.

୨ৎ NA JAEMIN ₊ ˖ ་.

၇୧ BE MINE, FOR REAL !

“i was just joking when i said we should fake date, but now i don’t want to stop”

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、pairing: best friend!jaemin x fakedating!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、synopsis: when your crush brags about having a date for valentine’s day, jaemin claims you’re already taken by him. now stuck in a fake relationship, jaemin realizes that maybe, just maybe, he wants this to be real after all.

୨ৎ ZHONG CHENLE₊ ˖ ་.

၇୧ LUCKY IN LOVE !

“if i win this bet, you have to go on a date with him, deal?”

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、pairing: competitive!chenle x competitive!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、synopsis: chenle loves a good challenge, and when he bets that he can beat you in the annual valentine’s day arcade competition, he’s got one goal in mind, winning your heart. but when you turn the tables on him, he realizes that maybe losing to you is the best prize of all.

୨ৎ PARK JISUNG ₊ ˖ ་.

၇୧ FIRST LOVE, LAST CHANCE !

“i don’t want to regret not telling you.. so here goes nothing”

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、pairing: shy!jisung x childhood best friend!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、synopsis: jisung has spent years hiding his feelings, afraid of ruining your friendship. but as graduation approaches he realizes he might not get another chance. on valentine’s day with trembling hands and a racing heart, he finally confesses, hoping he’s not too late

秋のメモ… ︵ ︵ ིྀ: i know valentines day is already over, but it’s still the month of love💝, so i decided to do a late valentine’s day event!!,(i posted the masterlist so you can you see what your getting into to) i hope you can sit back and relax and find out.. who’s your valentine?

[mellosdrawings]

hihi! I would like to know how you see/feel about the dynamic of the Tweels and Azul, if you don't mind sharing of course!

Hi o/

Sorry, this one took me a minute, I was trying to figure out the best way to explain my feelings about their relationship but... I realized that while I was unable to give a name to KaliJami but was able to explain the relationship, here I am unable to even explain the Octatrio's relationship.

They're best friends who would do anything for each other without needing any explanation, but they also would sell each other for a corn chip. The Tweels are Azul's first friends and also his most consistent bullies. They keep saying they're not friends but nobody around them believes it.

And, you know, I actually like how their vibe is "as long as we're having fun, we're staying together". Relationships don't have to last forever to be cherished. It's perfectly fine to stop frequenting who was once a dear friend if the relationship ends up not being enjoyable anymore. People change and so do their relationships, and that's a healthy mindset to cling to the fun and not force yourself into something that doesn't fit you anymore (in my opinion, at least.)

Though I have a feeling that, for the Tweels, it might come from a shaky family situation. Like Cater who can't will himself to have friends because he keeps moving, so he can't imagine a long lasting relationship whatsoever, I think the Tweels who might come from a family that has some kind of criminal background might approach their relationships in a "that won't last, but at least we'll have fun while it does". They're kinda the opposite of Cater in that regard. All of them are ready for their relationships to stop at any moment, but Cater has a darker view of it and refuses to open up while the Tweels are more nonchalant and try to get the most out of their relationships. The difference might come from the Tweels having each other anyway while Cater has a strained relationship with even his sisters.

Going on a tangent here: a thing I've come to realize is that Azul shows his love the same way the Tweels do. Lemme explain.

The one person we have seen Azul interested in is Jamil. He's shown it in forever bothering him and inviting him to join him and completely disregarding any complaint or refusal Jamil throws his way.

Feels familiar? That's how Floyd approaches Riddle too. That's also how the Tweels approached Azul at first. We don't have that much backstory but we do have an example of Azul trying to drive them away, and them not listening at all and continuing to come bother him until they have carved a place at his side.

I'm personally of the opinion that Azul learned his love language from the Tweels, because it was the only example of (lasting) friendship that he's ever had.

There's also the whole debt thing to take into account. Azul needs to feel unindebted, he cannot stand owing things to others. That's just how it is. The Tweels though would totally do whatever they need to have whatever they want, no matter the debts. But they do play by Azul's rule. Sometimes they even use it against Azul to gain favors from him. Though most of the time it feels like they're indulging him by asking favors when they just wanted to help him. It's a fine line, a fine balance, just like everything else.

The OctaTrio is just always on the cusp of being perfectly in sync with each other, using each other's strength and weaknesses to the best so they could all get what they want, while also being perfectly terrible to each other, literally just using each other for their own gain. It's a very interesting relationship and maybe one of the most balanced and precise out of every other relationships. They're just... in sync.

And contrary to KaliJami, those three can very well work on their own without needing each other. They constantly do their own things, decide to ditch the others because they have something better to do elsewhere, etc.

All three of them say they are into this relationship purely out of personal gain. And, yeah, I'm sure they're getting a lot out of it and they even get to be selfish while still working well together. Buuuuut...

I mean, come on, the Tweels keep coming to Azul's rescue. They were super worried when the anemones disappeared and discovered Azul overblotted. Boys aren't hiding their feelings as well as they think. And Azul isn't any better.

You know what, I think I finally figured it out. I finally know what to call their relationship, despite my introductory statement.

They're siblings.

Azul has pretty much been adopted by the Tweels. Being selfish morons ready to throw each other under a bus while also going on a rampage as soon as a bully decides to target one of yours is 100% sibling-coded. And I'd know it, I almost got into a fistfight because my lil bro got punched once. And I'm usually ready to punch him myself.

The OctaTrio are siblings who know their relationship might not last forever, but who have nonetheless decided to make the most out of it.