#i'm trying to watch both at the same time but it's not working...

[daenysx]

Hey, I'm loving the sleepover so far!

Can I request a Remus Lupin x pregnant!fem!reader?

:))

thank you!! i hope you enjoy <3333

remus lupin x pregnant fem!reader

cw; pregnancy, morning sickness

"feel any better, dove?"

you might feel better, but you are exhausted, so you stay silent. your head makes a slight nodding movement without your control and remus relaxes. his thumbs draw loving half circles on your waist.

morning sickness is not enjoyable, not in the least. you still try to accept it as a part of meeting your baby. your eyes are droopy, you clean your mouth with a napkin and dream of brushing your teeth as your head falls back to remus's shoulder.

"i'm okay." you whisper. you're okay, you're just tired and you hate forcing yourself to leave the bed almost every morning to end up kneeling in front of the toilet. remus always follows you, he has his hands all over you to give you bits and pieces of comfort that you desperately need.

he kisses your head soundly. "you're okay." he says. you're okay and he's in this with you, you'll never be alone. he's trying to be less excited sometimes but the idea of being a dad is amazing. a tiny replica of both of you. remus imagines waking up to little squeaking noises and a small body in bed between you two. he's gonna kiss the hell out of your baby's cheeks a few months later, after the birth.

"are you ready to go back to bed?" he asks, gently. you nod, sitting a few minutes here to collect yourself is always a good idea, but your legs go numb after a while.

"i'll come after brushing my teeth." you tell him. "you go."

he does as you say after pressing another kiss on the side of your head. leaving for the bedroom, he lets in some fresh air in before you come here. it's not too cold, but he keeps the windows close mostly to stay warm inside.

you walk in with slow steps. you look better, with a clean face and a mostly genuine smile. remus makes room for you in bed, you're glad to be back to lying down. the pillows are fluffy under your head, you settle down next to him as his one arm wraps itself around you.

"we got through another morning, i think." remus says.

"what time is it?"

"almost 8." he answers. "you can sleep some more if you feel like it."

you don't know if you want to sleep more, you think just lying here and resting would be okay. remus's sleeping shirt has that scent of comfort, you put your nose on his skin and take a greedy breath. not to be weird or anything, but doing this grounds you so well. he pulls you closer.

"you're not being late for work, are you?" you ask him with your eyes half closed.

"no, baby." he answers. "i texted sirius that i'm gonna come around noon today. it's all good."

you nod. lying on your back, you stare at the ceiling with a loopy smile. remus puts his hand on your belly. he has warm hands.

"i can't wait to see our baby." he whispers.

"boy or girl, do you think?"

"i'm not sure." he replies. "what about you?"

"maybe a boy." you say. you don't know, you haven't got that information yet. the mystery is nice.

"sirius will insist we should name the baby after him." remus snuggles until he gets a kiss.

"and if james insists the same thing, we're gonna have to come up with a creative game between them." you say. "whoever wins gets to name the baby after himself."

"do you actually want that?"

"i don't know." you laugh. "it'd be funny to watch them fight over it, though."

remus agrees. he'll probably tell them it was a joke after their fight, but that's just for his own amusement.

dreamer girl sleepover ♡

[castiwls]

first dates club .ᐟ

Paring; coach!patrick x single mom!reader

Synopsis; you both finally take the next step

Notes; writers block is a bitch

Masterlist | coach!au masterlist

“You’ve not been on a date in how long.” Patrick grinned his eyes almost lighting up at the information. 

The last time you’d been on an actual date had to have been before Noah had been born. Your ex had pretty much lived at work after his birth and only three years later you’d been divorced and trying to juggle motherhood and a job.

You shook your head placing your bag down on the couch. “Nine years almost.” Patrick hummed leaning against the door as you fixed your hair for what must have been the hundredth time in the last few hours. When you’d agreed to this date the thought of being nervous hadn’t even crossed your mind but you’d had a pit in your stomach ever since you’d dropped Noah to your parents.

You knew it was just Patrick. The same Patrick who you’d watched burn toast more then once and yet you still felt a need to impress him. You wanted this to go well and so did he.

“So I guess even if I fuck this up you won't know.” He teased stepping over to stop your fiddling. “Stop messing with your hair.” He squeezed your hand once before gently moving it down to your side. “You already look amazing.” 

Perfect even. He could practically see the tension radiating off you in waves as you took a breath. 

You could do this.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“I actually think I fell asleep.” 

“You were snoring Patrick the whole cinema could hear you.”

“I wasn’t that bad.” He huffed taking another fry from the basket. He held your gaze for a moment before you both broke into a quiet chorus of laughter at the memory. In all fairness the movie was bad - some sort of war thing you’d picked on a whim before going for dinner. 

“I'm pretty sure I saw some drool.” You grinned taking a sip of your drink. “Hey-” You yelped as his foot hit against yours. “I don’t drool.” He frowned reaching across to take a chip from you. “It’s cute.” 

Patrick rolled his eyes leaning forward on his arms. “Whatever you say.” He reached for another chip before you hit his hand away. He gasped feigning hurt as he fell back into the booth. “You wound me! My own date hitting me after i paid for her food! The cheek.” You huffed a laugh watching him with a fond look as he pretsned to look his hand over.

“Remind me never to piss you off again damn.” 

“You're such a child.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

The world was quiet almost as you both left the diner, his hand in yours. “£5 for a coke.” He grumbled pulling you towards the car. “We had like 3 each that's why it cost so much.”

“Still!” He paused turning to face you. “Daylight robbery. Your lucky i like you so much.” He grinned stepping closer his chest almost touching yours as he looked over your shoulder for a moment. His hand curled over your shoulder a small smile pulling at his lips as he leant closer to your ear “She’s still watching us.” 

You hummed turning back to look at the old woman who’d been staring at you both all evening ever since Patrick had loudly announced his favourite sex position for £10 from you. “No wonder.” You laughed. “I think you might have scared the poor woman for life when you basically yelled it down her ear.”

He shrugged looking back to you. “Maybe she needs some excitement.” He teased before getting a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Like someone else i know.”

A frown pulled at your lips as you pulled back ever so slightly to properly look at him. “And what exactly does that mean?” You asked raising an eyebrow. “Are you calling me boring?” He grinned shrugging. “You haven’t been on a date in nearly a decade and all you do besides talk to me and Noah is work. Your the definition of boring.” 

Your heartbeat seemed to pick up as he leaned down, his breath ghosting your lips as that damn grin only seemed to widen. It was almost as if he held a switch of sorts and the moment he flicked it any and all confidence and snarky comments seemed to die on your tounge and you felt like a teenager again.

His eyes glanced over your face as your cheeks redened, your lips parting as you took a breath. “All you do is play tennis.” Your mouth finally seemed to work but your tone had little to none of the bite you would have liked. 

Patrick hummed - he loved this. He loved watching you get flustered, the way you’d never admit it out loud but you could only hold your own for so long before falling right into his hands.

He loved the you which would call him every name under the sun and also the you who would sit closer then needed during movies on your couch. 

“Well…thats more interesting then whatever it is you do all day hm?” He murmured pushing a strand of hair back from your face before brushing his thumb over your cheek. 

Neither of you would deny that you were closer then you should be. Any sort of professionalism had been thrown out the moment he’d started staying round and you’d began spending your nights curled up on the couch and adding an extra place to your dinner table.

You were all but dating except in title and more intimate actions.

“I don’t think it is actually. You hit a ball with a racket.”

“I have many…more talents then just hitting a ball with a racket.” He paused almost debating his next words before a playful glint shined in his eyes. “I’m pretty sure i proved that first night.”

Your eyes widened before you shot a look around you before hitting him on the arm a bashful smile pulling at your lips as your cheeks reddened. “Patrick…don’t say that in public.” You chastised as he laughed pulling you back when you stepped away.

“You love it.” 

He wrapped a hand over your waist smiling. “C’mon I can’t tease the woman i’ve slept with about what i know she liked.” 

Patrick pouted his words hesitant almost as he spoke. In all honesty he wasn’t really sure what you were anymore. In his head he’d started referring to you as an unofficial girlfriend but he knew damn well he could ruin this all by saying that out loud.

You’d never given any hints you saw him in that way. Sure you liked him but whenever you spoke about dating you’d seemed hesitant - your ex had fucked up bad and now it seemed he was paying the price.

“Woman you slept with huh? Is that all i am?” You asked your eyes narrowing almost in challenge much to his surprise. “We practically live together. Roommate is more fitting.” You said but the glint in your eye said different. You were still teasing him. Waiting to see what he would say.

Waiting to see if he would take the next step.

He nodded pretending to think it over for a moment. “Is there a more fitting title.” You hummed at his question your fingers drumming over his shoulder. Your head tilted as you watched him almost expectantly.

“That depends. What do you want me - us to be?” 

Patrick paused his eyes lighting up almost. This was his chance. You were giving him an opening.

“What about…” He trailed off his hand on your waist rubbing circles as he ducked his head down, his nose brushing against yours. “Girlfriend maybe?”

A warmth spread through your chest, your eyes lighting up as waited anxiously almost for your next words.

“I like that more.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

tag list: @popcorntales @shecriestotheclickingoftime @antobeee @awhore4moree @yoitsme-04 @stankface

[butterflydm]

rings of power (belated reactions) season 1: eps 1-4

Backstory: I'm a casual Tolkien fan, I would say -- grew up watching the animated movies (literally knew the songs by heart as a kid); read LOTR & the Hobbit but not the Silm; loved both the LOTR and the Hobbit movies. Read a bunch of fanfiction over the years by people who know a lot more about the lore than I do.

I tried watching the new series when the first season came out, but still felt like the pacing was really slow by the end of the second episode, so never got around to watching more.

Found out about the twist at the end of s1 and was intrigued, but not quite enough to give it another watch. Heard more bits and bobs about s2 when it came out, with people who share some of the same tastes in media as me enjoying it (shoutout to @markantonys). Liked and reblogged some interesting giftsets. Finally decided to give it another try.

Below contains vague spoilers for the whole show so far and for LotR

I went ahead and rewatched the first two episodes, and I found myself getting a lot more out of it this time than the first time. I remembered liking the dwarves a lot, and still really enjoyed that plotline, but I was able to get into the other plotlines a lot more as well this time. I actually do feel like I get what the pacing is doing now, even if it didn't work as well for me the first time around -- we start with the single thread of Galadriel's search for Sauron and then keep expanding outward from there, introducing the other important plotlines gradually. It was, perhaps, slightly too gradual for me in my first try at watching!

I've seen through episode four now and am thoroughly enjoying the show, enough that I plan to watch more of it with my mom later today.

Things really do pick up with increasing speed after episode 2. We also get some amazing costuming in Númenor -- the queen in particular has some great outfits, but I also really love the banded dress that Galadriel wears there.

My mom (unspoiled about the show) is fully willing to go with the theory that Adar is Sauron going by another name (as proposed by Arondir's (now deceased) guard-captain).

Now, unlike my mom, I am spoiled about the show and so I am watching Halbrand very carefully. One thing that I do find interesting is that the show starts out with Galadriel narrating that nothing begins as evil, so I do feel like that feeling is meant to extend to Halbrand/Sauron as well. Which is to say, I give him the benefit of the doubt that he actually does want to stay in Númenor and start a new life (whether or not he could actually stick to that once he'd spent several years there... that's more of an open question). I don't think his plan at this time is to return to Middle-Earth and set up shop there.

Both Nori and Galadriel have talked about feeling like there is something important about sticking with their mysterious respective stranger. Both of whom are Maiar (Maia? I did mention that I'm mostly a casual fan of Tolkien, lol). They both just give off the vibe of being important and consequential... to specific people. Not to everyone that they run across.

I really like what they're doing with Halbrand -- they are definitely leaning on his superficial (and false) similarities to Aragorn in LotR and, especially when he was in the prison cell, there were some moments when he really looked like Viggo too. I feel like I've already seen a lot of range from him as a character -- we've seen him being persuasive and diplomatic; we've seen a brutal flash of temper and violence; and we've seen him give Galadriel advice on how to manipulate people; we've also seen him teasing and bantering with Galadriel (very much enjoying their dynamic in these episodes).

Speaking of Galadriel, I am enjoying her a lot. She doesn't stop! Willpower and determination just always constantly turned to a thousand. She decides what's going to happen and then doesn't let anything stand in her way.

I'm glad that we got back to Elrond's storyline in the fourth episode and caught up with Durin and the dwarves. I did spend a lot of time trying to remember if Moria and Khazad-dûm were the same place (yes) and so that means that it may well be these unsafe mithril mining practices that lead to the Balrog waking up and the mountain being abandoned by the dwarves. I don't know the timelines well enough to know for sure. It made sense to me that it was the same place, because of the elf word for 'friend' being the word to open the gates into Moria in LotR.

Though I am fairly well spoiled about certain things about Sauron, I am still missing a lot of the connective tissue about the various plotlines, so I don't know what the blood-drinking sword is going to lead to yet. Except that it means that the mayor (tavern owner?) of the village was a true believer in Sauron even after all these years and has been keeping it. And probably encouraging the rest of his people not to trust the elves.

Super-minor note: I love the costuming for Bronwyn -- the blue dress with the reddish boots. It really pops against all the other characters in her storyline and she's always easy to spot. Appreciate that!

There really is a heartbreaking contrast between the lives of the people of Númenor and the people of the Southlands.

What are the Valar trying to do in all this? Was it the Valar who made the petals fall or was Halbrand/Sauron trying to help Galadriel out? He seems to enjoy... how did he put it? Her galloping around full-speed like a colt? Something like that, lol. So he might have wanted to give her a chance to get what she wanted from the queen. Playing multiple sides against each other seems to come pretty naturally to him.

We are seeing that ambition is being set up to lead to doom already in Middle-Earth, even without Sauron's direct presence -- Celebrimbor explicitly wants to create objects of power, not just objects of beauty. Adar is trying to find that blood-drinking hilt and is leading the Orcs to some kind of terror (he's already enslaving people in his search). And the dwarves have been mining in the dangerous old mines because they found a vein of mithril there.

Gil-galad tried to send Galadriel away to Valinor because he foresaw that her continued hunt for Sauron might end up bringing his danger back to the forefront and, from what I know (spoiler-wise) that ends up being true (in fairness, she did find Sauron! Even if she doesn't know it yet! And he will get defeated. You know. Eventually.)

Other things of note: I love Disa! Disa is wonderful. Disa-Durin-Elrond could make for a very nice polycule. What if Elrond had made it to their wedding and there hadn't been any estrangement! But I really like that we saw some consequences for long elven lifespans and how it can affect their relationships with people who don't live as long.

I like the angsty young teens well enough, though Theo is definitely in the roughest situation out of any of them (see: the Southlands kinda sucking as a place to live). Definitely perked up when I heard Elendil and Isildur's names!

I'm really curious about whether or not the isle of Númenor turning against the elves is all based on them being more insular and isolationist or if there's something else at work. That the old king was trying to return to the ancient elven ways because of a vision in a palantir... very curious where that vision is coming from. Galadriel's arrival being tied to the breaking of the sea wall and the destruction of the city. I... don't know my Middle-Earth history enough to say for certain, but I suspect Sauron is gonna be involved in that. Because it's Sauron.

Arondir is our most plainly heroic character overall, I'd say (Galadriel is driven by vengence; Arondir's focus has been on trying to save and protect) and he is very dreamy. I do like that we have these PoVs in the Southlands and what's going on there, so we see that Galadriel is justified in feeling like there is still evil to fight.

Having a lot of fun with this. Glad I gave it a second chance.

[starrycassi]

Snippet of my jayvik works for silco au.

This is sevika mildly trying to give Viktor relationship advice. In her own way.

"He's… decent looking. Tan. Got some bulk. Tall. I could see it, I guess. Probably. If I squint.” Sevika tells him, which is crazy, because they sort of look alike. Viktor, however, isn't actually that eager for the embrace of death, and will not be telling her that.

Jayce, in the middle of the room, laughs at something someone said. The music is loud enough that Viktor does not have to worry about his lab partner overhearing their conversation, they're far enough for him to hear Sevika’s words without her having to raise her voice too much.

The corner table they're in is his favorite table in the place for that very reason. The sound reverberates off the top of the walls, sound waves bouncing back and forth. There's a speaker over their heads, facing the middle of the room. Its sound doesn't reach them with the same intensity, not if they both sit as close to the wall as possible. He can almost feel the thumping drums right over his head. Sevika appreciates being able to watched the rest of the room without having to worry about her back.

“You're insane.” He tells her, hand shaking slightly. Jayce picks up a shot from a passing waiter, skin glistening under the neon lights. He throws his head back with another cackle, shiny, almost canine teeth showing in a cocky smile. The stretch leaves his neck bare for everyone to witness, and witness they do. Viktor feels the lust that fills some of the faces in the crowd, feels the way some eyes linger far longer that they should.

The shot goes down smoothly, except for the one droplet that escapes his lips. It slides down from the corner of his mouth to his beard, where his partner finally wipes it away with the back of his hand in a quick motion. Jayce's hair is long enough to brush against his cheekbones, and Viktor feels like tugging on it for the rest of the night. Oh, what a glorious night it could be.

A pair of fingers snaps in front of his eyes. He frowns, angry at the interruption. “Staring makes you look pathetic. Makes me look pathetic, by association.”

“It’s not my fault you've no taste, woman.”

Sevika groans, rolling her eyes. Jayce is dancing with an unknown girl. She's got pink skin and cheeks that gets pinker every passing second. Jayce spins her around. She giggles the whole time, batting blue eyelashes at him.

“You're making your own life way more difficult than it needs to be, boy. Fucking women isn't this complicated.”

"You only say that because you pay for the women you fuck. The brothel will get you a special room, at this rate."

"I'm sure there's no woman that would touch you with a teen foot pole. Not for all the world in the world."

Jayce leans down. Pink Girl smiles, leaning in. Jayce, who is an idiot in anything that doesn't concern equations, fixes her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. He goes back to dancing. She follows.

“I don't get you. He's just another loud dog. You've been successfully bringing men like him around for years, and you're getting cold feet now? Don't give me that look. The walls are not that thick and you always get the vocal ones. Do whatever it is you do usually, flash him a nipple or something, and get it over with. Can't be that hard.”

Pink Girl is very clearly trying to be brave. Jayce is very clearly trying to fix her bra. It keeps slipping down.

“He's a piltie.” She continues, spitting the word with all the vitriol a person can manage while slightly inebriated. She glances over at the duo, narrowing her eyes. “And fucking clueless. Glenda right there is practically throwing herself at him. With that combo? I bet he's never even give his first kiss.”

“How do you know her name?”

“Well, how do you think, eh?” Sevika lifts up an eyebrow, faint smirk growing in her lips. Viktor decides that he's heard enough.

“Whatever. And he has kissed someone.”

“And how do you know that?”

Turns out, Sevika doesn't quite like it when one imitates her answers.

She gets up with a disgusted look on her already unwelcoming features, goes to Jayce and physically shoves him away, elbowing him in the ribs. Glenda seems to forget about Jayce's existence, and let's Sevika take her by the waist. They grind against each other for less than five minute before disappearing into one of the rented rooms.

Jayce, apparently, decides that it is an amazing moment to come over and talk. Viktor makes sure to remember that they do have a job to do. Work. Science. Together. They're coworkers. Colleagues. Co-creators. Partners in the lab.

Jayce's half-open shirt doesn't really help his cause.

.

“This is ridiculous.”

Sevika seems to think that this is Viktor's and hers crush on Jayce. When they met, Viktor never took her for the noisy type. Then he turned sixteen and she decided that he was ‘adult enough’ to complain to.

“You are ridiculous.”

“Greatest genius of Zaun. Can't even think of *one* decent comeback when the mutt is near. And you're telling me you two spend the whole day alone, in a laboratory, building weapons for our people to use? Amazing.”

Offended, Viktor huffs, burying himself deeper onto the couch.

“Our inventions are absolutely flawless, I will have you know. You arm is one of them. Haven't had any complains, now, have you?”

“The color is ugly.”

He flips her off.

They're in Jinx's… room. Lair. Playground. Whatever this gigantic fan is for her. Jayce, Silco and the kid are having a Very Serious Tea Party. Viktor isn't quite sure *what* part of his contract covers for this as company time. He doesn't actually have a contract, but, still.

Jayce is wearing a bright-blue, hastily applied lipstick. He's got sloppily applied pink, glittery eyeshadow. His hair is up in the two most asymmetrical pigtails ever.

He's crouched down, ass barely fitting into the chairs. He chuckles lowly, covering his lips with his hand. The teacup is a miniscule thing on his hands. Calmly, he grabs a sugar cookie and bites in. Silco also got the kid real cookies and tea to play with.

“- so just fuck him, get it out of your system. Trying to tame your dick will just leave you with a desperate dick and a lot of frustration. As soon as you stop denying it and actually- are you even fucking listening to me?”

Jayce rarely actually laughs, these days. He's a great pretender, but Viktor is an even better skeptic. The dry chuckles and pretentious giggles don't say him, neither do the over-the-top roars of noise he lets out in public. This time, the corners of his eyes shrink, his shoulders shake, his face lights up, he laughs. A million sparks are born and die on Viktor's chest. There's something even worse than butterflies gnawing at his heart. It's not lust. He wishes it was lust. It's a horrible, sickening thing. One that makes Viktor want to hear him do that for the rest of their lives. Oh, what a wonderful life that would be.

Jinx must say something actually funny, for once, because Jayce's laugh reaches all the way to where Sevika and him are retreated, Viktor arguing for pain in his leg and Sevika offering oh so kindly to take care of him.

Sevika is glaring at him. He should look at her. Say something. Anything. Whatever.

Whatever expression he's making must be tremendously obvious, because Sevika freezes, a slow, horrified look creeps in her face. It would be funny, if that look didn't reflect Viktor's exact feelings on the matter.

“Oh. Oh. Ohhhh, fuck.” She says, very eloquently.

“Oh, fuck, indeed.” He answers back. "So, Glenda?"

"She's good at what she does. Don't change the topic. Oh, you're fucked. This is so funny. You're absolutely fucked. I know there's at least three boys out there being avenged with this whole situation."

He can't even disagree with her.

[tragcdysewn]

"don't fucking start with what, violet? because it seems like you are the one starting everything, and then getting mad when you don't like my responses!" they were spurring each other on, they always did when they got to this point, both too stubborn to back down and admit that they might be wrong about any of the issues they're dealing with. "i am only changing physically! gods, i'm still the same person, i don't understand why you can't see that! nothing about who i am is different, violet! if i was, i would've ripped aetos' fucking head off his shoulders as soon as i heard his name cross your mind!" he'd wanted to, fuck, of course he'd wanted to, but that was no different to how he'd felt the first time he'd seen dain kiss her, really. he'd debated killing the asshole then too, hadn't he? it felt so long ago now, but he was fairly sure he'd threatened dain out loud to garrick or sgaeyl. and he hadn't acted on it then, he hadn't acted on it now, didn't that prove he was still the same person? a full venin would have killed the guy for being in his way. "i'm not expecting you to make that choice, violet, because it's not your choice! it's mine, and this is what i'm choosing. i offered you both options, and you refused to consider either one, you thought i could just exist in some fucking limbo forever while you read every book you could find! and that wasn't going to work, obviously, so i made the choice for myself. i'm not going to live the rest of my life balancing on a knife's edge just to keep you happy!" there was a lot he'd do for her, to keep her safe, to keep her happy, but he couldn't exist like that, he'd lose his mind, go mad for real. and then they'd really lose each other, there'd be no coming back from that. "i know you can, but this place isn't anything we know how to handle! i'm not risking another completely unpredictable disaster destroying you right in front of me! do you know what it felt like, feeling your fucking heart stop? feeling your mind go dark and disconnect from mine? i'm not going to sit by and do nothing while that happens again, violet, don't ask me to!" maybe one final time. just one, to keep her from fighting him, so he can properly protect her. only if he can't get her to see sense, only as a last resort. "who says someone was just trying to punch me for being a dick? she wanted me dead way more than i wanted her dead, she would've separated us again! i'm not going to let someone kill me, violet, i'm going to defend you, and i'm going to defend myself!" one hand reaches out to her then, pulling the tie from her hair and letting it unravel over her shoulders the way he'd always had such a reaction to. even doing it himself had him frozen staring at her for a brief moment, a faint smile crossing his features despite the fact that he knows how this is going to end, knows what he has to do. "i know. it's why i begged you to kill me or let me die back then. no one else can do it but you, my violence is the only one who can finish me off. it feels right, but you said no, remember? so it's not as if i had another choice." he reaches forward again, tucking one piece of that hair out of her eyes, feeling that fatal power leech into his own veins, watches the silver that had entranced him the moment he saw her, a compliment to his gold even when they couldn't stand each other, when he'd never have guessed she'd mean everything she meant now, slowly creep further up the strand in between his fingers as he seals their fates. "mira, violence." and he because knows what she'll do, what he can't let her do, his other hand drops to her wrist, gripping it tightly as he drops a brief kiss on her forehead. "i love you, violence. and i'm sorry. i'll make this right, i promise."

"you know that's not what i fucking mean, xaden, don't fucking start with that--" they were only feeding off each other, and despite violet knowing that, she cannot stop herself from following him down this path, letting his anger fuel her own. "you're changing physically because of whatever the fuck you've done! i can fucking watch you become someone different! every time you tap into that fucking power, you're changing!" she felt like she was going to break down, every other word from him had her reeling, watching him become more and more unrecognizable.. this couldn't continue on, she had wasted so much fucking time without her memories, had spent so long just what? flirting with him and going on fucking dates with dain? she had doomed him with her inactions, her inability to find a cure. only putting herself in danger more so he felt like he needed to do more and more to protect her? "you think i wasn't tired of the maybe's?! of the fucking uncertainty that was going to come with you going down this road, with there being no fucking wards, no one else here that knows what the fuck a venin is! but if my two options were you dying or you becoming this, that doesn't put me in a fair position and you know it. i couldn't choose between those two, and you cannot expect me to make that choice." though, now, he had made that choice, leaving her with no other option right? if he was going to keep falling, not giving her any time to find a cure.. could she let him just walk away knowing how much of a danger he could become? he was already the most powerful rider in their generation, what would be become as a venin? "i can handle myself! you know i can! i don't need you to keep fucking draining because you're afraid of me being hurt! why can't you help me without falling further down this path, xaden? why does it have to be this way!" he had helped her so many times, had kept her safe so many different ways already, why did it have to be different now? why was the only option complete indifference or draining! "those people were complacent in torturing me and my friends, they would have killed you. someone just trying to deck you because you're being a dick is different! killing using those powers is different! how do you not see that every time you use them is making you fall deeper into this! that every time you drain, you get closer and closer to becoming one of them! how can you expect me to just sit back and watch you destroy yourself!" it was so hard to look at him, to see xaden underneath all of this. he was just right there, right within arms reach and gods all she wanted was her xaden back. to never have to deal with this venin bullshit ever again. but every day she was in danger, and considering her track record and luck that was nearly every day, he would continue to fall, until he was completely unrecognizable. before her and her friends were in danger because they stood in his way. wasn't it her responsibility to stop this? he became this because of her, she had to be the one to stop this. "you can't promise that. my power is basically the only thing that can fucking kill you, you remember that, right? you really think you won't see that as a threat if you let yourself go any further!" they were going in circles, this wasn't going to get them anywhere, not when he was clearly dodging her questions again, waiting for her to 'ask the right one', she's so sure. she wanted to fucking scream, needing a straight answer out of him for once. "tell me their name xaden. what is the name of the person you just killed?" because of all the people they knew... what were the chances that it was one of her friends? that rhi or dain or mira said something that set him off.. did he know anyone else that would send him over the edge that wouldn't have broken him? because touching imogen or liam would be too much, this wouldn't even be a conversation.. but dain? mira? her heartbeat only grew louder in her ears waiting for the answer, knowing it'll devastate her regardless.

[j-emini]

real question is: are you watching psg bayern or tottenham milan tonight?

la domanda è: stasera guardate psg bayern o tottenham milan?

[silverselfshippingchaos]

ugghhh wintertime sucks!! I'm sad and tired and sad all the time.. I need a nap.. and f/o cuddles.. and another nap..

[pa-pa-plasma]

i don't think i'll ever get over how people treat kids that aren't good in school as worthless no matter what. "oh it can't be that bad" my guy idk how to tell you this but the last time i went to a normal high school the principal called me into his office to brag about how he failed me in all of my classes before the semester was even finished & i should quit while i'm ahead cuz i'm too stupid ("officially" diagnosed as such by a school counselor & a psychiatrist!!) to succeed. & this is considered normal

[mbg159]

I view Z-One as a fairly good antagonist who had the potential to be a much better antagonist. His main problem is that he has two very good concepts: the protagonist in the future, at his lowest, having abandoned everything he once was, and a guy futilely trying to emulate what he thinks of as the last symbol of hope. These are both good concepts. The problem is, the series uses one as a fakeout for the other, and in a way that ends up diminishing it.

Usually, when you want to have a fakeout, it's important for the thing you're faking out to be something the characters and the audience both think they know. That way, the fakeout can have some actual meaning, because the audience and the characters can learn about something at the same time. But that's not the case in the Z-One fakeout. Fans figured out "oh, he's probably Yusei from the future or something" from the moment he first appeared--but the characters didn't. They don't bring up the idea until the mask breaks. In fact, once Yusei does see what he looks like under the mask, he takes about half an episode before he dismisses the idea as something that could never happen, and Z-One basically goes "alright, fair cop, here's what really happened." After giving us a big emotional reveal, the series then nullifies it before anyone's really processed it, and the result just doesn't feel right. And that's not even getting into the catastrophic experience of watching it week-to-week, where audiences who had just had their socks knocked off by the end-of-episode reveal tuned in the following week to learn that all the cool ideas and scenarios they'd imagined for how the show could possibly explain Yusei's fall from grace were actually pointless.

I'm going to enter speculation mode here, but I'd be willing to bet money that when we first saw Z-One, the writers didn't actually know what his backstory was, and may have even gotten into conflicts about it. The series stays tight-lipped about him for a very long period, keeping his actions mysterious and leaving most of the clues of his identity as a future Yusei left to his visual design and the whole Shooting Star Dragon thing. That, to me, suggests that the writers were strongly considering the idea of him being Yusei, but didn't want to nail anything down in case they went back on it later.

Now, if they had decided from minute one that he was going to be a fake, then it would have made sense to have the characters think he was real (or at least strongly suspect it), well before the duel with him. That way, you can have Yusei struggle with the idea, have his friends distrust him a bit, and delve a bit into Yusei's attempts to reject that potential future--he might even question using Shooting Star. You could have the villains deliberately play into Yusei's doubts. You could have the angst and the character arc, but you don't have to tarnish Yusei. As it stands, the reveal doesn't actually mean much emotionally, because it's really only pulling the rug out from under the audience. To the characters, the twist was "hey, you know that guy from the future we don't know or have any connection with? Well, he's... still a guy from the future we don't know or have any connection with."

Basically, I'm not opposed to the Z-One twist in a vacuum, though I feel its actual execution leaves a lot to be desired (that flashback feels incredibly rushed, and in a bad way). But I feel that to make the twist work would require the rest of the arc to be written differently. With the arc as it was, I think it would have been better to just go for the full shock option and make him Yusei, letting the "holy SHIT" factor paper over the oddities.

The Supreme King arc of GX is a really good counterexample. As the arc stands, it was very clearly rushed and underplanned, the timeline is wonky, and believing that Judai would become that evil takes a lot of stretching of the imagination, but the strength of seeing this loveable dorky goofball have all that stripped away from him to become a cruel demon king with a heart of ice is enough to make you want to believe it. And it helps that, while it may not hold together logically, it does hold together emotionally, because it felt like it was informing what we knew about Judai. Judai was outwardly affable, but he'd always had an undercurrent of something worse, moments here or there where he just comes off as kind of an asshole. Then, the third arc kicks into gear, and people start calling him out for it--and suddenly all his behavior earlier starts to get recontextualized, and it becomes clear that Judai was only ever a "hero" because being a hero came easily to him. He didn't really have a moral code or a selfless motivation, so when he does suffer great personal loss for the first time, and completely throws aside any veneer of morality, dragging down the dimensions in a cosmic-scale act of desperation to never be weak again... it feels like it's coming from somewhere.

In fact, the arc went so far as to have a twist on top of its twist, but from the complete opposite direction of the Z-One twist. Initially, it seems that the Supreme King might just be some kind of entity of darkness possessing Judai, some supernatural, external force. But later on, we discover that, no, that isn't true. The Supreme King was nothing more than Judai at his worst, tapping into the power of Darkness that was his birthright. The series refused to let him off the hook for his selfishness, and it makes the arc incredibly powerful when he ends it by doing the most selfless thing imaginable.

Now, I don't mean to say every character should get a villain arc. Judai and Yusei are very different characters: in fact, they're almost opposites in a lot of ways. Judai's arc is about maturity and learning to accept responsibility. His arc is meant to be a positive one, where he starts out as kind of a bad person and ends up as a better person. Yusei's arc, meanwhile, has more to do with guilt, with refusing to accept that you are a bad person even in the face of the whole world telling you that's the case. His arc is a neutral one, where he starts out as a good person and then refuses to stop being a good person even in the face of the world telling him to not be, with the occasional stumble along the way. Either Z-One option would have played well off that, whether it's thinking he could become a monster, or knowing he could become a monster--which would make it powerful when he then recants it, denying even the forces of apparent predestination to declare, no, he could never become Z-One. But, by hiding the idea for so long, and then disproving it immediately after it comes out, we kind of get neither. Yusei doesn't really get his morals tested: we do get the "no, I'll never become you", but it just feels like yet another affirmation of what we've already heard a thousand times at this point, which is that Yusei Is Really Cool, You Guys.

But, on the other hand, I suppose I can't complain very much. On presentation alone, Z-One is still handily the second-best Gallop-era final boss, even if that mostly just means he's a B- in a sea of C's and F's (and one A, by all accounts).

dunno if you've ever been asked, but what are your thoughts on z-one? He's one of my favorite final boss villains in YGO but I know (especially for a while) people didn't like him due to the fakeout of not being an evil Yusei.

Hey there! As a matter of fact, I have not been asked. I think Z-ONE's a fine antagonist, frankly. The setup to get to him takes a while, but the reveal when he finally shows up is pretty good where I'm concerned. (Of course, some things about him are plagued by the same plotholes as the entire WRGP—mostly, the scope of his "godlike" powers is very, very unclear. But since it adds a lot of pizzazz, I can usually overlook it.) Moreover, I think the initial reveal of his face—where it's unclear whether or not he's Yusei at first—is perfect, because it really throws you for a loop.

That said, I'm a bit in two minds about the identity thing. On one hand, I get why people wanted him to be Yusei, as in, the actual, real Yusei, who was simply pushed to his limits by a horrid, inescapable future. The sheer amount of angst would have been unparalleled. And it would have posed the very interesting question of just what it would take to push Yusei, our very own protagonist, that far. After all, he's the hero, he's the one preaching hope and friendship even when everyone else has given up on it already. Just the implications alone of a person like Yusei—Yusei—being pushed far enough to become the villain would have been downright cataclysmic. It would have sold the sheer hopelessness of the Meklord future like nothing else. So I get why people wanted it to be true, there's certainly potential there.

But at the same time... I'm not sure I can bring myself to see it. And a lot of that has to do with what canon presents us before the big reveal of Z-ONE's face already. First, there's the fact that it's Yusei. As I said, this is the guy who's all-in on loyalty, hope, and friendship even when nobody else is. It is arguably one of his, if not the defining trait he has. To topple that unwaveringness by implying even he could be pushed to give up on these things... I don't know if it might not have soured his character a bit in some people's eyes. Even if it might have been more realistic, even if it might have been human. Then, there's also the things we get about Z-ONE, as a character, before the reveal. And yes, I concede that's very little, but frankly? It's enough to make him feel like he absolutely couldn't be Yusei to me. Like yes, granted, the unavoidable future of despair™ would have probably changed his personality somewhat, but to that degree? Z-ONE acts nothing like Yusei to me. His tactics in manipulating Sherry, the way he speaks with Aporia during their duel, hell, the sodding Timelords he plays. I mean, sure, obviously they gave him a completely different deck so they could a.) sell more cards and so b.) the reveal could be delayed a little longer for more tension, but something about the idea that Yusei, had he actually been Z-ONE, would have completely abandoned his old deck, kept not even a single card, not even Stardust, or Speed Warrior, or Scrap-Iron Scarecrow, doesn't sit right with me. And that's obviously not touching on the timeline shenanigans that don't quite match up, because Z-ONE's ruined future is implied to be far away enough to exceed Yusei's own lifespan. (Now, if they had actually written Z-ONE to act more like Yusei, and to perhaps, damningly, have kept some of Yusei's cards, I might have been more on board with the idea.)

I don't know, I might be in the minority there, but I think Z-ONE was fine the way he was in canon. We got the shock moment of him possibly being Yusei without delving into either the emotional can of worms, nor the timeline nonsense can of worms that would have come with him actually being Yusei. Z-ONE is an excellent, end-of-show antagonist to me, with or without that extra angst. I don't usually like fakeouts that much, either, but this one, I'll happily tolerate. (Though I would argue the guy could have used just a smidgen more setup and would be even stronger if not for the nonsense worldbuilding of the Meklords. But everyone and their mother who knows my blog knows how I feel about the Meklords, worldbuilding-wise.)

[atomicsuperrobot]

Rereading again, and it's really interesting to note just how different the early art style is from the later style- and especially from the anime itself. With the manga, you can at least see where things came from; in the anime, it's a fairly radical departure that is only barely recognizable as what it's meant to be, at least in regards to Joker himself, specifically.

The early manga has lots of sharp points and angles, creating a character that, even if he behaves in largely similar ways, still feels almost entirely different from his animated counterpart. No wonder I was so put off by the anime's designs, originally- and that I had gotten the impression that he was older than he actually wound up being, or was type-cast as. Funny how I now largely prefer his anime design and personality, even if it's altogether not that different!

Fun fact, when I first started reading, before I had started watching the anime (and even for a bit after I had started), the voice I had for Joker in my head was the same as Kaito's, from Magic Kaito- which, as far as anime goes, would be from Detective Conan and Magic Kaito 1412, specifically. Even if he seemed older, at least in looks, in my head he very much still read as a bratty teenager, it would seem.

[longagoitwastuesday]

*reading a thesis about the evolution of the concept of infinity in China with a large amount of tabs open with diverse articles or word combinations to further look for information, all the while seething, blood boiling* I wish Satoru Gojo would fucking cease to exist

[astrxealis]

good morning 🥺

[gothgoblinbabe]

Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Warnings:  ( MDNI 18+) neighbor!reader,fem reader, Logan’s kinda rude for a lil’ bit, neighbors to frenemies to lovers? Idk, alcohol consumption (nothing 18+ happens while anyone is intoxicated), swearing, i can’t write Wade’s witty dialogue for shit pls bear w me, implied age gap, unprotected sex (wrap it up I beg of you), poking fun at the Kardashians a little, swearing and I think that’s it, but pls lmk if I missed any!

Summary: You have a little too much to drink one night in Wade's living room, resulting in an indirect confession that Logan absolutely hears through the thin drywall of his bedroom. Wade then ditches your usual weekend plans in an attempt at playing cupid - and it may just be the best favor he's ever done for you.

Word Count: 8K (get comfy bitch)

divider credit here and here

Being Wade Wilson’s best friend and neighbor included two main components:

Watching trash TV and getting drunk every other weekend - usually at the same time - and Wade wasn’t going to let his new roommate's attitude ruin it in the slightest.

“She’s gonna be here any minute and if you don’t pull the stick out of your ass and be nice, I'm going to lock you in your room like a sad, lonely dog.”

Logan only grunted in response, sipping his drink in the doorway and watching him run around the living room to make the place look livable.

He’d only moved in a couple weeks ago and Wade had been trying to introduce you both - inviting you over when he knew Logan had no plans - but every time, he was out the door before you were even opening yours across the hall. He’d try everything he could to avoid meeting new people, fearful that any type of real connection with someone would be ripped out from under him just like it had been many times before.

Wade huffed in satisfaction when he was done moving a few things around, standing in front of Logan with his hands on his hips.

“I mean it, kitty cat. She’s a sweet girl - keep the claws in.”

“Told you to stop callin’ me that.”

“Too bad, so sad, kitty.”

As Logan was considering puncturing three evenly spaced holes in both sides of Wade’s chest, they were both interrupted by a knock on the front door.

You were on the other side, of course, a twelve pack of beer under your arm. You rocked back and forth on your heels while you patiently waited for Wade to let you in. You did kind of hope you’d maybe get to meet his new roommate this time - it was a little odd that he was never there when you were.

He answered the door after a second, placing a hand over his heart dramatically when he saw the beer in your arms.

“For me? Aw, sugar, you shouldn't have,” he sighed as he took the box from your arms, ushering you inside.

“Did I have a choice?” you joked back, kicking off your shoes.

You followed him into the living room only to stop in your tracks.

Logan stood near the couch in his sweatpants, looking like he’d been dragged into the middle of the room to be put on display. He did reluctantly agree to stay for a second and finally let him introduce you so he could sulk back to his bedroom and nurse a bottle of whiskey till he fell asleep.

“Well, there he is,” Wade said in a lackluster tone, “now, he is house trained, but he does bite occasionally - “

“Fuck off.”

His deep voice surprised you a bit, unintentionally raising your eyebrows with your gaze still on him.

“ I'm Logan.”

You nodded politely and introduced yourself, shoving your hands in your pockets nervously. He was tall, definitely a good couple years older than you and incredibly handsome, all of which made your stomach erupt into butterflies.

And Logan did not like the way you were looking at him.

He’d seen it more times than he could count on the faces of every pretty young thing that tried to take him home from the bar, batting their eyelashes at him and laying hands on him like it would be persuasive in any way. It never worked, as his dismissive attitude sent a clear message. He couldn’t be bothered to take any of them up on their offers and wasn’t interested in fulfilling some fantasy they had about being with an older man. He didn’t think much about stuff like that anyway, avoiding any chance of vulnerability and attachment to someone he was sure he’d eventually lose.

And you still had that look on your face.

“Night.”

With that, Logan disappeared down the hallway to his room and shut the door.

“He’s not much of a talker,” Wade assured you, “probably for the best.”

From then on, you’d occasionally see Logan come out of his room while you were over - getting something from the kitchen, doing his laundry, coming and going - and each time you had to feign complete disinterest. Wade had quickly taken notice of how you tried to keep your head down every time Logan entered the room to hide your pink cheeks and - naturally - there was no way for him to be quiet about it.

When Logan came out of the bathroom one time with a towel around his waist and dripping wet hair as you and Wade sat at the kitchen island, your best friend was more than eager to run his mouth.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t do that to her!” he exclaimed, gesturing towards you, “you’re practically dangling meat in front of a starving dog - poor girl.”

You had your face buried in your hands with your elbows on the counter, wishing more than anything that you could sink into the chair and through the floor.

“God, shut up.”

Your voice was muffled by your hands but he still heard you.

“And put a stop to my job as cupid?”

Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning towards his bedroom. He’d seen the way your eyes widened the second he’d opened the door, traveling all the way from his bare shoulders to the trail of hair that dipped under the towel. You’d turned pink almost immediately. It would have been something he’d found cute maybe a couple decades ago, before the very last bit of his naivety had faded away. Now, it was just infuriating to him. He could try to drop every hint on earth that he wasn't interested (which for him, just meant avoiding you completely) and you still looked at him like a lovesick schoolgirl.

This weekend came along like every other, texting Wade back and forth about snack options and finally getting up to shuffle across the hall with a bag of chips.

He answered the door as usual, ushering you in. You plopped yourself down on the couch and kicked your slippers off, clad in sweatpants and a tank top. He sat beside you and you propped your legs up on his lap, snatching the TV remote from the coffee table to flip through channels. You heard what you assumed was Logan’s bedroom door open down the hall, keeping your eyes glued to the TV. 

“Peanut! Care to join?” Wade exclaimed as he watched his roommate enter the open kitchen, digging around in the fridge.

You still didn’t tear your gaze from the screen.

“Hell no.”

That wasn’t much of a surprise.

“Your loss!” Wade reached for the pack of beer on the table, offering one that you gladly accepted, “but don’t bother us, keeping up with the kardashians is incredibly important.”

“Uh - huh.”

Logan disappeared again in seconds and Wade shook his head.

You focused back on the TV screen.

“So, how many minutes into the episode do you think one of them is going to start a fight?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Hours and many beers later, you were on the floor with your knees to your chest between the couch and coffee table as you tried to stifle your giggling. Wade was laid on the couch, no better off than you.

“Hey - hey, I wanna ask you somethin’,” his voice became a little serious, but he still had a shit eating grin on his face, “what are you into Logan for anyway?”

You dreaded the question, groaning and closing your eyes.

“Seriously! I mean, I’ve been here the entire time - “

“Wade.”

He looked at you expectantly, awaiting a response.

You contemplated your answer for a moment, your filter diminishing more and more with every sip of beer, “God, I don’t know, he’s - he’s jus’ big.”

You were snickering behind the beer bottle you drunkenly held in front of your face in an attempt to hide.

“I don’t think he’s that impressive. You know, he’s got small feet - tiny, like a child.”

That had you both doubled over, trying to muffle your laughs with your hands and the throw pillows strewn on the floor.

“Stop, stop - ” you choked out when you finally caught your breath, wacking him on the arm.

“Okay but really, what is it? I know you, you’re not into beefcakes,” he laughed and shook his head.

You sighed, not really thinking for even a second before you started speaking again.

“He’s older and he’s hot -”

“And completely cold and dismissive towards you.”

You rolled your eyes at his interruption but still nodded, “yeah - yes, but that’s not my point.”

Wade took another sip of his beer and motioned for you to continue talking.

“He, uh - ” you tried to bite down a giggle, your face turning pink, “I don’t know, I think he’d be good in bed.”

That made him sit forward on the couch, his mouth open in surprise, “I knew it! I knew you were a horny freak!”

“Am not!” you picked a pillow up from the floor and launched it at his face, “I’m allowed to be, anyway!”

“Whatever,” he caught the pillow in his hands, “I'm on operation ‘Cupid’ and I have never quit a mission, cupcake. So, what about him makes you think that? Is it because he's a hundred and eighty - something years older than you? He’s probably been passed around the block like a wh - “

“Okay,” you cut him off, cringing at the thought, “ I think I got the picture.”

Your mind began to wander again about Logan and you narrowed your eyes in thought, staring at nothing.

“What’cha thinkin’, honey bun?”

Wade's voice cut through your concentration and you shrugged, a smile creeping onto your face.

“Oh no,” he started, stretching the vowel, “you’re having a sex fantasy right now, I can see it on your face - disgusting. Tell me more.”

“What, you want details?” You laughed, giving up on trying to hide it if Wade could already read you like an open book. You were both terribly honest with each other - almost to a fault. 

“Not the full middle-aged-white-women erotica novel version,” he answered, “I can accept cliff notes.”

You thought for a moment, going down the mental list you’d made of all the assumptions you had about the older roommate that you rarely ever saw.

“He’s gotta have a huge dick. Like, massive.”

Wade nearly spit out his beer but nodded for you to continue.

“I’d let him, like - like,” you were giggling between words as you tried to form a sentence, “ fuckin’ rearrange my guts.”

That did make Wade spit his beer, which set off a train of uncontrollable laughter that you both tried to stifle. 

Still, throw pillows and hands over your mouths were not as effective as you believed. 

Logan’s eyes fluttered open, squinting in the dark. The digital clock on his nightstand read ‘2:24 am’ in red LEDs. He closed his eyes again and tried to drift back to sleep, only to be jolted up by the sound of the two of you laughing obnoxiously from the living room.

“For fuck’s sake,” he mumbled to himself, getting up to walk towards his door so he could tell you both to keep it quiet. As his hand touched the knob, he halted when he heard your voice.

“He’s probably good at eating pussy. He’d be like an animal - “

Logan was stuck in place, his eyes narrowed. Who the hell were you talking about? 

“Can we go back to the rearranging guts thing? ‘Cause I have to tell you, sister - he’s made of metal and he’ll really do it.”

That couldn’t be about him. He refused to believe you two were actually talking about him like that in the next room.

“I’d let him,” he could hear you snickering.

“Is this a daddy issues thing? The ‘I can fix him’ maneuver?” 

“I didn’t say I wanted to fix him, I said I wanted to fuck him.”

If this was about some guy, Logan should be relieved; thankful that you’d found a new target of infatuation. He should be relieved, but he was gripping the door knob like he was going to break it off.

Wade’s voice broke through his thoughts, “you’re lucky Logan’s not much into relationships, then.”

So you were talking about him. 

Your voice echoed in his head, your words cementing themselves into his brain. 

On the living room floor, you were chucking pieces of popcorn into Wade's direction, trying to land one in his open mouth. 

“Hey,” he started after catching a piece between his teeth and eating it, “if you do end up in Wolvies bed? Pics or it didn’t happen.”

You gasped and nearly chucked your empty bottle at his head, deciding against it when you remembered Logan was asleep in the other room. 

Logan was in the other room.

Just as you were about to panic to Wade about Logan overhearing your foul-mouthed and horny drunk rambling, you both heard the click of his door coming unlocked and the creak of the hinges. He appeared at the doorway in a beater and pajama pants, his hair sticking up in every direction. Truthfully, he looked cute.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you. It’s two in the morning.”

Adorable, even. 

“Oopsie! Sorry, Peanut. We had very important things to discuss,” Wade replied.

Without another word, Logan shut his door again and you and Wade sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“Do you think he heard me?” you whispered, grimacing.

“We’ll find out.”

With that, you both decided to call it a night and you returned to the familiar comfort of your apartment.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The next morning, Wade was up far earlier than his roommate, as usual. He sat on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, turning his head when he heard Logan’s door open.

“Sleeping beauty! So kind of you to bless me with your presence. What’s the occasion?”

“Breakfast.”

“Technically it would be lunch, peanut.”

Logan was facing the pantry in the kitchen and Wade could still feel the anger radiating off him. 

Ignoring his seething silence, Wade began to speak again, “you didn’t happen to overhear any conversations last night, did you?”

Logan was facing him again, pouring cereal into a bowl and speaking without looking away from it, “you mean the one where your little friend said she wanted to fuck me? Yeah, I heard enough of it to get the jist.”

Wade had a gleeful look plastered on his face as he turned in his seat, “so you’re gonna take her up on the offer, right?”

“That wasn’t an offer, and besides,” Logan was shoveling cereal into his mouth, “ ‘m not interested.”

“See, you say that, Peanut, and yet you just have to come out here at least once while she’s over.”

Logan was glaring daggers into his skull. 

“I live here.”

The younger of the two clicked his tongue, turning his attention to the TV screen, “All I'm saying is that she’s our neighbor, she's a sweetheart, she is single and has a job and an apartment all to herself, dude. Bone city.”

“Ew.”

“Think about it.” “Don’t need to.”

As Logan scarfed down the rest of his breakfast and put the bowl in the sink, Wade was already typing furiously in his messages to create a plan. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Another week rolled by, meaning it was time to get hammered and make fun of the Kardashians again. You held your breath waiting for Wade to answer the door, anxiously picking at your fingernails. 

He opened the door and ushered you in like any other time, except he was dressed to go out instead of the usual PJ attire.

“What, are you leaving me for a hot date?” you teased, dropping the snacks you brought onto the kitchen island.

“Yes!”

You furrowed your eyebrows and frowned, awaiting his explanation.

“I’ve got a date with Vanessa, but - “

Logan emerged from his room, navigating his way to the kitchen as if neither of you were there.

“Peanut! So glad you decided to join us! Hey - “ Wade tapped the kitchen island, motioning for him to come over so he could talk to you both at the same time.

“Okay - I have a date with Vanessa tonight, so I need you,” he motioned between the two of you, “to get along.”

You were about to interrupt, insist that you can just reschedule, but it was as if he’d read your mind.

“You’re already here, cupcake, just stay and chill out. And you - “ he turned completely towards Logan, “you’re going to be nice like I asked you. Do you think you’ll survive?”

Logan was staring at him, unblinking with a scowl on his face.

“You, uh, you don’t have to sit with me,” you mumbled to him, forcing him to finally acknowledge your presence.

He’d half expected it to be your idea as much as it was Wade’s - some kind of ploy to get him alone - but you weren’t jumping at the chance, trying to be touchy-feely with him, begging him to stay. 

He almost wished you would.

He cleared his throat and looked back to Wade, “I'm not gonna babysit your friend.”

“Who said I needed a babysitter?” you chimed in.

 They both turned to you to watch you slam the top of a beer bottle on the edge of the countertop, sending the metal top flying somewhere into the living room. 

“We have a bottle opener in the drawer,” Wade sighed in defeat, ”anyway - you don’t need to babysit her, I'm just saying she doesn’t bite and It would be uncool to leave her all alone.”

“Aren’t you the one leaving?” you asked, taking a sip of your beer.

“Not the point,” he answered, grabbing his jacket from the coat stand as he walked towards the front door, “play nice, don’t eat anything in the fridge with my name on it and there’s condoms in my nightstand!”

He opened and shut the door, leaving the both of you in awkward silence. Logan’s face was actually red, a mix between rage and mild embarrassment. 

“He’s a dick,” you muttered, trying to make some kind of small talk, only to be met again with silence. You sighed, going to the couch and picking up the remote. You finally made yourself look Logan in the eyes, your cheeks burning uncontrollably when he never broke his stare.

“Listen - it’s fine, I get it, you’re like…the lone wolf,” you laughed a little to yourself, having to divert your eyes to the fabric of the couch, “I’m not gonna burst into tears if you don’t sit with me.”

He was a little taken back by your bluntness, though it was refreshing. He figured you’d be pink in the face - practically begging him to stay - but you weren’t. You pretended you couldn’t give less of a shit with your eyes now glued to the TV. You were as cool as you could act on the outside, but you nearly lost that cool when he spoke again.

“I can sit for a bit,” he shuffled over to the couch, settling himself down next to you. If you weren’t gonna be all over him like he thought you would, he could withstand a couple episodes of whatever the hell you and Wade had been watching. He didn’t dislike you, really - just terrified of the possibility of intimacy. You were pretty, and from what he’d overheard now and then, you were funny too. He liked the way the smell of your body wash and perfume flooded the apartment whenever you’d stop by and how you’d always bring some leftovers to be sure both of them had eaten - leftovers of which the roommates would always get into a spat over - usually because Logan ate it all before Wade could even see what was in the container. 

Unfortunately for Logan, he began to enjoy you being around.

You could feel your stomach tie itself in knots when he sat beside you but nodded in acknowledgment, flipping through TV channels. You settled on the Kardashians again, tossing the remote on the table.

“This is the shit you guys watch, huh?” he teased, grabbing a beer from the pack Wade left behind. 

You smiled a little to yourself, noticing how he was slowly getting more comfortable with you, “mhm, top tier - wait till you see one of them talk, it’s like watching an alien.”

You actually pulled a miniscule of a laugh out of him and your heart nearly skipped a beat at the sound.

As the show went on and you both made snarky commentary at just about everything, you felt more and more like you were just hanging out with Wade - comfortable and casual, except for the way your face burned up every time he stretched and his white beater rode up his stomach.

“So,” you began as the episode ended, “thoughts? Opinions?”

He was looking between you and the screen, thinking hard, “I don’t get it.”

You shrugged, “me neither, to be honest, but god is it funny to watch rich people lose their shit sometimes.”

He chuckled again at your response, placing his empty bottle on the table next to yours.

It was silent for a moment, the air tense with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

“What do you usually watch on TV?” you asked, intending to flip the channel to whatever he may be interested in - if he had to sit through Keeping Up with The Kardashians, it was only fair.

“Nothin’, really,” he answered, his eyes moving from the screen to rest on you, like a heavy weight on your chest.

“Do you even watch TV?” you asked, the both of you having abandoned the idea of trying to find something else to watch and just letting it play in the background.

“Nah,” he shrugged, his arms crossed against his chest, “ I don’t do much of anything.’

You could tell his answer was earnest and you frowned a bit, swinging your legs up on the couch and turning to face him completely, “nothing? There has to be something.”

He was unsure about how close you were to him now, your knees to your chest as you looked at him expectantly. He thought he’d be met with that look - the one you kept giving him in passing that he hated so much - but your face was neutral, waiting patiently for him to respond. Truthfully, he didn’t hate the look itself - or you, for that matter - but hated how it made him feel.

As if there were some sliver of hope for a future worth living through.

He cleared his throat, turning his body towards you on the couch, “I work out, sometimes - “

‘’Yeah, clearly’’, you wanted to say.

“Other than that,” he continued, “I don’t know, the bar - sometimes I'll let Wade drag me out somewhere but I usually leave after half an hour.”

“Huh, so you really are by yourself a lot,” you realized aloud.

 Logan never thought it sad until he heard it from your mouth.

“I like it that way, most of the time,” he shrugged.

“I can tell - took you two weeks to finally say hello. I think this is the most I've ever heard your voice, actually.” 

He realized you were right and did feel a little bad, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I just don’t like meeting new people.”

“Me neither.”

It was silent then - save for the TV - either one of you waiting for the other to explain just why that is. You figured it would be easier if you went first.

“I never really had a lot of friends growing up. I had a hard time in school and a lot of the other kids didn’t like me. It was just tough to make friends, especially because - “

You stopped, thinking over what details to include and what to leave out.

“Because?” Logan prompted and you sighed, biting back a giggle.

“Because I was goth. I don’t mean I just dressed in black - I mean I wore white face paint and huge boots and ate lunch in the art room.”

That actually pulled a real fucking laugh out of him and you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

“I’m not laughing ‘cause you were goth, that's not weird” he clarified, “I'm laughing because I just can’t picture it.”

You didn’t embrace the style as much as you used to, trading Siouxsie Sioux makeup for reading glasses and teased hair for your natural texture.

“I’ll bring over my highschool yearbook sometime,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

Realizing it was now his turn to speak, he readjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat, visibly becoming a little uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, you know,” you reminded him gently, giving a soft smile. 

It only made it harder for Logan that you were so damn nice.

He tentatively explained the timelines, the different versions everyone has of themselves, how he’d gotten there. You hung on his every word, unintentionally giving him a sympathetic look when he had finished explaining. 

“So…you were just alone after all that?” your voice was soft, worry clear in your tone.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “yeah, yeah.. ‘till I met Wade, obviously.”

You gave him a small smile, “you’ll never be alone again, you know.”

For some reason, the unfamiliar comfort made his stomach turn and he simply shook his head, “Yeah, I'm never gonna be able to get rid of him.”

That made you giggle, nodding in agreement.

“You can try, but he will always find you - like a determined cockroach.”

That got the both of you and you’d never seen Logan smile that way - though, to be fair, you never saw much of his face anyway.

The version of you that sat on the couch across from him was far from who he thought you were. He felt guilty now for assuming things just from looking at you, but it was a habit he had yet to shake. It was clear you were beautiful - that was never a question - but talking with you made him realize just how much he may have missed out by keeping himself so closed off. You laughed at almost every joke he had made, comforted him when he was nothing but rude and always checked up on him and Wade. You smelled so nice, your hair looked so soft and he almost found himself wanting to reach over and run his fingers through it. In his eyes, you seemed to be everything he was not; all of the best qualities he believed he didn't possess.

“Oh, hey - do you want some popcorn? I brought the microwave kind, I keep telling Wade to get it himself and he never does,” you snapped him out of his trance and stood from the couch, already walking to the kitchen.

“Uh, sure,” he found himself getting up to follow you, not wanting to pause a moment of conversation.

You tossed the bag in the microwave and hit the button, leaning yourself against the counter. Logan leaned himself besides you, significantly taller. You’d held your composure so far, but having him so close and realizing just how much bigger he was made your heart beat like a rabbit’s. 

“So, you never asked about the mutant thing,” He spoke over the popping, looking down at you and waiting for the twenty questions.

You only shrugged, “I figured If you wanted to tell me, you’d tell me. I wasn’t gonna interrogate you about it. Plus, Wade told me.”

“Of course he did,” Logan scoffed, “I’m afraid to know what exactly it was that he told you.”

“You’ve got adamantium instead of bones,” you replied matter of factly, “and you’ve got claws. I mean, I’ve never seen them, but that's what he told me.”

He thought for a minute, stepping in front of you a little. He was about arm-length away, putting enough distance between you both that he was sure he wouldn’t accidentally knick you.

In a second, the adamantium claws protruded from between his knuckles, glistening in the kitchen light. You flinched for only a second, leaning in to inspect them. 

“Woah,” you muttered, bringing a finger up to the very end of one of them and letting it poke you, “cool.”

He was a bit confused by your calm demeanor, but relieved by it anyway. It was never a good time when someone had a bad reaction to the claws. The microwave beeped and he retracted them, stepping out of your way. You opened it and held the scolding bag with two fingers, realizing you needed a bowl to put it in.

“Logan, can you grab a-”

You felt one hand on your hip and could see his other reach above you, opening a cabinet you couldn't and handing you a bowl. Your back was almost flush to his chest, making you feel warm all over. He reluctantly pulled away from you and you cleared your throat, shaking the popcorn into the bowl.

He watched you from where you stood, taking in the curve of your waist and hips and realizing he was in much more trouble than he’d originally thought. He’d heard your drunken giggling about him - heard you vulgarly talk about how good you think he’d be at giving head - but he was still thinking it over with his bottom lip between his teeth. He finally broke the silence that filled the room.

“You know, the claws aren’t the only thing abnormal about me.”

“Mm, no?” you laughed a little with your back still turned to him. You could feel that your face was hot.

“Heightened senses,” he said simply, “hearing and smell, mostly.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like right now, I can hear your heartbeat.”

Your eyes went wide and you practically froze in place.

“It’s fast.”

His voice was closer.

“Really fast,” his breath was in your ear, his hands coming to rest on your waist, “got even faster when I pointed it out.”

You swallowed hard, knowing very well there was no way to lie to him.

“Jus’ nervous sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything,” you exhaled, attempting to still your shaking hands. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, his deep voice reverberating through your chest because of his proximity, “what about the other night, though?”

You narrowed your eyes and turned to finally face him, nearly chest to chest.

“What are you talking about?” 

You knew exactly what he was talking about - you just hoped it wasn’t what you thought.

His hands were on the counter behind you, boxing you in.

“C’mon,” he looked at you expectantly with a shit eating smirk on his face, “what made you think I’d be good at eating pussy, anyway?”

You were red with embarrassment, pulling your hands up to cover your face, but Logan caught your wrists gently and clicked his tongue.

“Pretty girl, it’s alright - “

His gruff voice calling you such a sweet nickname nearly made your knees buckle.

“I can smell how wet you get, you know that?”

One of his hands moved to hold you by your throat, barely using any pressure.

“F-Fuck off,” you managed to mutter, stuttering when he pushed one of his thighs inbetween yours. This was nowhere near what you pictured happening when Wade dumped you in his living room with a guy who would barely even look at you.

He chuckled, his other hand pushing on the small of your back to pull you closer into him.

“Yeah? I don’t think you really want me to, sweetheart. Besides, you didn’t answer my question.”

You could barely think, nevermind answer whatever it was he had asked. You were almost nose to nose, Logan craning his neck down a bit to level his face with yours.

“I, um,” your breathing was shaky, “fuck, I don’t know - I jus’ think about it a lot.”

“Me too,” he admitted before crashing his lips to yours, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of your head. It was truthful - he’d probably thought of you every day since the night he heard you talk about him like that. 

You couldn’t help moaning into his mouth when he kissed you, letting him slip his tongue past your lips. His hands roamed down your back and to your ass, using his grip to rock your hips over his thigh.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he moved down your jaw and neck, kissing and biting at the soft skin, “drove me crazy, hearing you say those things.”

“How much - how much did you hear?” you tried to ask, overwhelmed by his teeth grazing your neck. Your hands rested against his chest - as if you were going to push him away - but you never did.

You felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin, “heard enough.”

“And what exactly was that?”

If he was going to tease, you might as well bite back.

He pulled away momentarily to look in your eyes, knowing damn well he already had you where he wanted you.

“You don’t want to fix me, you want to fuck me, right?”

Your own words sounded so much hotter coming out of his mouth.

“Mhm,” was all you could manage to get out, too focused on the feeling of him pushing and pulling your hips over his thigh.

“Huh? Use your words, sweetheart.”

There was something about the affectionate nicknames he was using in contrast to the filthy way he was trying to push you down even harder on his thigh that made you lightheaded.

“Yeah - yes, I want to,” you practically whined.

That was all the confirmation he needed to hoist you up onto the counter with his hands on your ass. He was kissing you hungrily, his fingers hooking around the straps of your tank top to let them fall down your shoulders. You didn’t waste any time in breaking the kiss momentarily to strip yourself of the garment, tossing it to the kitchen floor.

“Fuck, jesus christ,” He groaned at the sight of your bare chest and immediately brought his large hands up to massage your breasts. A chill went down your spine when he leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue. Your hands were threaded through his hair, tugging every so slightly when he would pull his mouth off you with a popping sound. The majority of your chest was glistening with his spit when he finally brought his mouth to yours again, leaving a clear coating over the developing hickies that he left. You tugged at the hem of Logan's white beater to signal that you wanted it off. He did as you pleased, leaving plenty of skin for you to run your hands over. 

“Been thinking of you, all spread out of me,” he murmured in between kisses. He used his grip on your ass to grind you against him, his hard cock pressing against you. The pressure from it was enough for your pussy to start aching.

“I wanna know what you taste like,” he continued, holding your chin to tilt your head up, “can I find out?”

You nodded frantically and nearly choked on your own spit. You lifted your hips to let him strip you of your pants and underwear, leaving you completely bare on the counter in front of him.

You felt vulnerable, pressing your knees together only to have Logan use his hands to spread them apart.

“Uh-uh,” he clicked his tongue, “let me see your pretty pussy.”

He got on his knees on the kitchen floor, hooking his arms around your thighs and settling his face between them. He nipped at the hot skin of your inner thighs and you inadvertently tugged his hair every time he did so. He finally laid his tongue flat against you and you whined, the sound echoing through the kitchen. He was sloppy, practically drooling into your cunt and using it to lubricate his fingers so he could slip them into you. Your theory from before was proven right; he was kind of animalistic when he ate you out.

He was curling his fingers as he thrusted them in and out, sucking on your clit at the same time. You gasped when he spoke with his mouth still buried in your cunt.

“Tastes so fucking good.”

Your ankles were locked to keep his head between your thighs, leaning yourself back against the wall.

“Jesus christ, Logan - “ you whined, cut off when he growled into you.

“Mhm, ‘feels good, baby?”

You only nodded, unable to communicate with how deep he was curling his fingers into you. He continued to mumble praises against your cunt, amused by how much it clearly spurred you on.

“This is all mine, huh? Know you wanted it, could smell how bad you needed me every time you were over.”

You could feel the pressure in your lower stomach start to build.

“You’re so wet for me, such a good girl - makin’ such a fucking mess.”

It wasn’t long before you were pulling him back by his hair.

He reluctantly detached himself, looking up at you with concern. His mouth and chin were wet, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.

“What’s wrong? You okay?”

“ ‘m fine, just - I was close -”

He groaned in a way that almost sounded annoyed, diving his tongue back into you, “C’mon, do it, then - come for me, pretty girl.”

His praise was enough to trigger your orgasm and you couldn’t help rocking your hips against his face as you rode it out. You were cursing, tears starting to form in your eyes when he didn’t let up. 

“L-Logan, fuck,” you cried. You could’ve pulled him off, told him it was too much, but he was so determined and skilled in the way he flicked his tongue that the discomfort of overstimulation dissipated into pleasure within seconds.

“One more for me, baby, one more. Think you can?”

You were moaning so loud at that point that you tried to bring a hand to your mouth to muffle the sound but Logan caught your wrist and brought it back to his hair, encouraging you to keep tugging and pulling.

Your second orgasms approached hard and fast, tears rolling down your cheek. Your legs shook uncontrollably as he finally sat back on his heels. 

When you caught your breath, he pulled himself up to slide his arms around your lower back and plant a kiss on your forehead, wiping your wet cheeks.

“Can I take you to the bed?”

You nodded and smiled wide, leaning up to kiss him.

He effortlessly carried you through the hallway and into his bedroom, your bare chest pressed against his. The second your back hit his mattress, his cellphone started to ring from his bedside table.

You watched Logan furrow his eyebrows and reach for the phone. He read the caller ID and bore an amused smile, switching it to silent.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, wrapping your arms around him when he came to hover above you.

“It’s Wade,” he chuckled to himself, “probably calling to see if everythings alright.”

That made you giggle, “yeah, we can tell him we’re doing just fine.”

“I’ll call him later.”

His lips were on yours again, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you as he pinned you to the bed with his hips. You slid your hands from his neck, down his back and around the front of his waist to rest on his belt buckle. Your fingers made quick work of the metal fastener and you tugged the leather from his jeans. He stood up off the bed for a moment to strip himself of the rest of his clothing. When his cock sprung up from his boxers and hit his stomach, you almost had to choke back a gasp. Again, you were proven right - he was huge. He crawled back between your legs and positioned himself on top of you. 

“You’re okay with this?”

If anyone told you maybe two hours earlier that you’d end up under Wade’s grumpy roommate, your chest heaving from the anticipation of finally having him slot into you, you would’ve called them crazy. Now, however, it was a reality - one you would’ve gladly spent the rest of your life in.

You realized he was holding back, gripping the sheets next to your head and waiting for a definite answer.

You nodded and scratched at the back of his neck affectionately. He guided himself into you and you groaned at the feeling of his tip alone.

“ ‘s okay?”

Logan was practically slurring his words with how hard he had to hold himself back. Your warm chest to his, your thighs locked around his waist, the way you smelled; it was all overwhelming in the best way possible.

“So good,” you whined, trying to push your hips up to encourage him to go even deeper, “want all of it, please, please.”

He was chewing on his lip when he finally let himself fill you completely in one thrust. You dug your fingernails into his back, leaving scratches that healed themselves within seconds. He let out a guttural moan with his face buried in your neck, concentrating on trying to build a steady rhythm without finishing things too fast. He propped himself up on his elbows on either side of you as he tentatively rocked in and out.

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, a hand coming up to wipe the sweat dampened hair from your flushed face. It was so sweet, so intimate; nothing you’d ever really expected with or from him.

“You're handsome,” you managed to reply, amused by how taken back he seemed by the compliment, “perfect.”

He couldn’t remember the last time someone called him that - handsome, definitely never perfect - while actually looking at him like they meant it. Your eyes were trained on the features of his face, attempting to memorize every line and wrinkle; every bit of him that made him Logan. Your eyes felt to him like they could burn right through the wall he’d managed to construct.

Still, he instinctively scoffed as he hovered over you. He was never good at accepting compliments.

“I’m not the lying type, you know,” you assured him, whispering in his ear as he continued at a steady pace, “besides, do you think I'd be under you right now if that wasn’t true?”

“Mm - shut up”, he fought a smile and increased his pace in the hopes that it would render you speechless.

It did, of course.

You were a moaning mess atop his sheets with your back arched to accommodate Logan’s arm sneaking around you. His pace was enough to rock his headboard into the wall and he was thankful it was your apartment on the other side instead of a stranger’s. You were chest to chest as he whispered filthy things into your ear.

“Takin’ it well like I knew you would, baby doll - knew you’d like it when I fucked you like this.”

You were still at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the pressure in your lower stomach.

“You think you’ve got another one in you? C’mon, sweet girl, let me see it.”

His coaxing had your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head as he pounded into you. Besides the grunts and moans between you two, the only sound echoing in the room was the slap of skin against skin and the squelching of your pussy as he dragged himself out and back in again.

You were almost drooling from how deep he was able to fuck you. The familiar fire in your stomach had you feeling warm all over, building and building itself up. As if he could read your mind, Logan’s hand reached down between the both of you and he started to trace tight circles around your swollen clit.

“F-Fuck, my god, Logan - “

He hummed affirmatively, almost as if to acknowledge that was indeed his name that you were chanting.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you almost saw stars when your third orgasm hit hard and fast. You were probably loud enough for the entire building to hear as he worked you through it.

“Good girl, good girl - c’mere,” he praised, flipping you over so that you were on your hands and knees. You laid your chest as flat as you could against the mattress and arched your back. He didn’t hesitate in fitting himself snuggly inside of you again, his hands kneading at and smacking your ass as he used his grip to push and pull you. It wasn’t long before his thrusts started to become sloppy. He leaned down and hooked an arm around you, lifting you up a little so that his chest was pressed to your back. He moved his hand to your throat to tilt back your head. The way you looked back at him, your beautiful eyes boring into his soul - that was all he needed to finally let go. You felt him flood you with his come, a mixture of yours and his soaking the sheets underneath you. He gently pulled out and almost immediately pulled you against him to cuddle, his eyes already fluttering close. You didn’t take him for the cuddly type but it was just another wholesome thing you’d learned about him.

“You should call Wade back,” you mumbled, already drifting to sleep with your head on Logan’s chest.

“ ‘m busy, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

You chuckled to yourself, letting exhaustion overtake you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Wade practically sprinted up the steps to his apartment the next morning, keys already in hand. If Logan hadn’t answered - even if it was just to tell him to fuck off - something really bad must’ve happened. You hadn't answered any of his fifteen texts, either.

He unlocked his door and prepared himself to be met with a gorey scene, only to be surprised that there was no sign of a scuffle. There was untouched popcorn in the kitchen, clearly abandoned at some point right after making it. Did Logan upset you enough last night to make you leave early? 

Of course, he’d completely missed your clothing that had been tossed just out of sight from where he was standing.

Wade sighed in frustration, striding through the hallway and stopping outside Logan’s bedroom. He banged his fist on the door and rested his hands on his hips as he spoke through the wood.

“Hey! Peanut! Did you make our guest leave early last night? How’d it go? You didn’t answer your phone and neither did she.”

On the other side of the door, your heads both popped up at the sound of wade’s banging. You stifled a laugh, looking to Logan for him to say something.

“Uh, yeah…she had somethin’ to take care of.”

Now you had to bury your face in his comforter, uncontrollably snickering. 

Without warning, Wade groaned and swung the door open - one neither of you thought to lock because no one had been home.

“You better get your ass across the hall and apologize for whatever it is that -“

He was met with the sight of the both of you in Logan’s bed, covered by the bedding. It was obvious you were both undressed, Logan’s boxers somewhere near Wade’s feet.

He gasped, looking between the two of you in confusion before a giddy smile appeared on his face.

“Oh, I see, I see. Right, mhm - “

Logan was already trying to shoo him out but Wade wasn’t going to let him before he got the last word in.

“You're welcome, by the way!”

He shut the door and you laughed.

Logan laid back again, resting his arm around your shoulders so he could pull you back into his chest again.

In the comfortable silence, doubt settled itself in the form of a pit in your stomach. What if this was a one time thing? 

Almost instantly, you felt his hand comb through your hair.

“Hey, uh,” he started, looking down into your eyes, “listen, I know I was supposed to ask this before I got you in here, but - um..”

You could feel your stomach turn, borderline terrified of what he was going to say next.

“Would you want to go out for coffee sometime?”

A wide grin spread across your face and you nodded eagerly, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’d love that.”

A/N: this ones long as hell but so is just about everything else I write! if you've made it to the end I loooove u and pls interact if you enjoyed; hearing feedback is what motivates me to keep writing! as always, my inbox is open as well <3

[chuluoyi]

✎ mission: baby steps !

- gojo satoru x reader

the three times gojo tried to make his baby love him (and how he miserably fails)

genre: full crack, dad!gojo being a sore loser, your baby being mean (he only wants peace, really), and obviously, fluff !!

note: a little thing for father's day ehe <3 i know i said i'll work on smut in the polls next but uhhh, this comes first ok?! :') i just love the idea of gojo vs baby don't mind me *sobs* and all the scenario here come from the tiktok/reels you've sent me!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

There are many things that come with being a jujutsu sorcerer, and when you are Gojo Satoru, those things seem to be multiplying like bunnies.

This essentially means less time with his wife and baby. Look, he could finish missions fast, but when sent to other cities, even he couldn't abuse his teleportation powers all the time to return to Tokyo.

And so, as much as he hated it, he couldn't fault his baby boy for forgetting him.

"Look, it's papa," you rocked your son with a smile, consoling him as he wailed right after Satoru held him. "Don't cry, don't cry! Papa just got back from a long mission, he's not scary!"

"Is he scared of me?" Ouch. The thought prickled him. It somehow felt sourer than seeing Principal Gakuganji's face.

You hummed, seemingly (or comically?) deep in thought. "Hmm, in baby's point of view: a big, bad man suddenly picks him up, of course he's scared."

"I'm not a bad man!"

Okay, he wasn't having this. Satoru adored his baby to bits and he would want him to at least know it. It's settled then—he would be taking paid leave just to spend some time with his baby.

This would be his mission for the next three days!

DAY ONE

The day started off great. Baby Gojo was relatively calm, a bit fussy here and there but Satoru could definitely handle him.

"Look, a plane is coming!" he said playfully, moving the spoon in the air to attract his baby's attention. "Open your mouth wide!"

Baby blinked at him with the straightest face ever. His two blue orbs were the very same as his father, and yet they held disinterest so great that it was a wonder Satoru didn't notice.

He then playfully smooched baby's face, but he scrunched up, cringing in response.

And later, another achievement unlocked: Satoru successfully got his son to sleep for his afternoon nap!

"You're so cute, sigh." Satoru poked his baby's cheek lightly. "You look like me, but when you sleep, you totally look like your mama..."

He might not say it out loud, but one of his favorite sights lately was seeing you sleep next to your son. Both of you looked so precious and vulnerable, so alike, and it made him warm.

And whenever he looked at this little creation between you and him, he also got the urge to poke him so bad.

So he did. Only this time, he poked him a little too hard.

And how wrong that move was.

His son immediately cracked his eyes open, his lips quivered, and then his whole face scrunched up, followed by—

"WAAA!"

"Oof! Wait— I'm sorry!"

Long story short, he refused to be held in Satoru's arms, so you took over and your husband could only watch you with dissatisfaction.

"Won't you let me hold you?" he asked despondently, pulling up a pitiful face and batting his eyelashes. "I have the warmest hugs! Mama can vouch for that!"

"Satoru, he doesn't want you."

DAY ONE RESULT : FAILED

DAY TWO

Okay, his baby would love him today. Satoru was sure of it.

He had ordered this baby ride-on toy via home shopping and not only that, he would play with him!

"Here we goo~! Honk! Honk!" Satoru steered the little vehicle with his son at the backseat, hyping him up and even made a weird sound that was supposed to resemble a... train?

You watched them both, giggling. Your husband looked positively ridiculous as he was too big for the small vehicle, but still persisted in entertaining your clueless baby behind him. "Oh my, Satoru, you're trying way too hard."

"I have to!" he retorted, sending pout and a glare at the same time. "You can't hog him all the time, he's my son too!"

"Well, good luck~ as it happens, your spawn isn't easy to impress."

"Just so you wait—!" Satoru begrudgingly shot you a look, eaten up by your taunts, not noticing the wall in front of him. "By the end of today, he'll— whoaaa!"

He was about to crash into the said wall, and you were prepared to jump to save your baby first. But then, Satoru did the next best thing to stop it—jumping out of the ride-on, rolling onto the floor... and crashing into the bookshelf that some of the things fell. "Ow!"

"Are you okay!?" you immediately picked up your baby before checking him over. However, Satoru's eyes were transfixed on your shared munchkin.

"Meh heh~"

And you too when you heard it— your baby was wiggling, all smiles, seemingly amused by the sight of his papa lying there pitifully. Satoru was aghast.

"Y-you have no filial piety!"

DAY TWO RESULT : FAILED

DAY THREE

Today, Satoru had gotten inside the playpen and brought a bunch of toys, planning to entertain his son with all of them.

"C'mon, don't throw that!" he pursed his lips when his kid flung the lego away. "Don't you want to play together with me?"

No. As if saying that, the baby crawled away from him. He seemed to have a target in mind though.

"Oi, what are you doing?" Satoru was puzzled, but he was in for a surprise when the child rose slowly.

"Oh, you're pushing yourself up..." he stated, observing how the baby, still wobbly, clutched on the edge of his playpen for support.

A huge grin spread across his face then. "Aww, look at you!" he gushed with pride. "You can stand already! Ooh!"

And suddenly, the sight tugged at his heartstrings. This was the first time he had ever witnessed such a milestone. He wasn't here when he first started teething or crawling, and now that he was here when his son was standing... he wanted to see more of this.

"Now, can you take a step?" Satoru moved closer to him, and the kid turned to him with those clear blue eyes and a little frown, seemingly unsure. "Go! Go! Come to me!"

He didn't think he would actually try to walk. But he did as baby let go of the support, alas suddenly he slipped—

And fell flat on his face.

"—! Are you hurt?!" Satoru immediately plucked him off the floor, horrified, and pulled him close when the baby started to sniffle. Soon, he began to wail inconsolably.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—!" he didn't even know why he was apologizing, but seeing his baby so frightened made his chest tighten. "Stop crying, oh wait—let's find mama!"

You were engrossed in your evening TV series when Satoru came barging to the living room with your poor son while being hysterical. "Help him!"

"What happened?!"

"He fell! He fell!"

Of course, your main concern was to comfort your baby, and so you reached out to take him from your husband's arms, only that...

"Huh...?" even Satoru was stunned when his son clutched onto his shirt, continuing to cry but refusing to let go, burying his little face into him.

Suddenly, he felt warm, he felt needed, and most of all, his desire to protect him was so overwhelming that he couldn't help but squeeze him closer.

You looked between the father and son, feeling giddy at the sight.

"He wants you," you finally smiled, patting baby's back. Satoru glanced between you and his precious pumpkin, seemingly taken aback as he blinked several times. When the fact sank in, he felt like a mush and pressed a kiss on his head.

The clown was convinced that his kid hates him and you are the savior. So, the fact that this little innocent being wanted him to comfort him... it made his heart flutter.

"Sorry, kid," he sighed into him, smushing his face to his little one's. "Don't cry, yeah? You're making me sad too."

"Satoru... are you getting glassy-eyed?"

"...am not!"

DAY THREE RESULT : DUBIOUS OUTCOME

"He's asleep..." you placed your baby between you and Satoru on the bed later that night, he was now so peaceful, out like a light.

Satoru turned to face you and the baby, looking at both of you with a yawn, but a soft smile lit his face when he saw how you pecked his son's cheek lightly.

These three days made him almost forget that curses still existed out there. Spending time with his son blurred that fine line between reality and a perfect daydream.

"He is still so little, but he screams so loud," he mused, poking the baby's cheek gently. You swatted his hand away, worried he might poke too hard again.

"You keep teasing him, that's why."

"—? He keeps playing me, is why!"

You two burst into quiet giggles then, and you couldn't help but reminiscing about the journey from when you first found out you were expecting, through the first ultrasound, and all the way to delivering your son.

And it seemed like Satoru had an inkling of what you were thinking when he suddenly blurted:

"Thank you, for everything you do," he whispered then, his eyes crinkled so softly at you.

You playfully huffed to hide your misty eyes, and in that moment, Satoru knew, that you too were glad for this life you two shared.

. . .

And that, in and of itself, was enough for him to thank all the stars for bringing him to meet you in that most beautiful spring of 2006.

Epilogue

It was morning, and baby was awoken by... sounds.

He looked to the side to find his mama there— your hand on his tummy to prevent him from rolling.

And then he turned to the other side to find his papa... who is perfectly still, but emanating this low sounds with each breath he took.

The longer he heard it, the more irritated your munchkin felt. So he rose, put his fists together, and came down on him—

Whack!

"—?!" Satoru groaned when something hit his face, and he opened his eyes only to see his son readying his punch again—

"W-why are you hitting me!" he was mortified. "H-help! Sweets, wake up! He’ll murder me!”

OVERALL MISSION RESULT : FAILED

[unluckilyimnot]

Playing with their hair – aether, kinich, wanderer, rin, sae, sakura

note: i'm just in love with aether and kinich recently and i needed to write something with aether's hair so why not had some of my fav characters along with them. that's probably not really good but i guess it's cute. ooc

m.list | rules

Aether is used to your hands suddenly laying on his hair, running through them when you walk behind him – it’s like an urge, you just have to. You stopped on your track, bowing to kiss his head, inhaling his shampoo a little and hummed at the sweet scent.

“You took my shampoo again,” you mentioned, not in a warning way, more like you appreciate it. He nodded lightly, delighting himself from the feeling of your hands still running through his hair, scratching his scalp a little before kissing it again.

Sensing that you’re about to go away, his hands take yours gently and his head bent down to look up at you. “Already leaving ? We can both take a break…” he said, subtly implying you to not stop yet, making you giggle.

“Sure, we can.”

That’s basically how he ended up sitting on the floor between your thighs, watching a movie while you brush his hair for him, kindly letting your fingers run down his beautifully long hair – trying small, low buns to one high ponytail.

“Having fun ?” You can hear the smile in his voice, amused as always when he let you enjoy his hair more than he does.

“Always.” you said while kissing his nose from above, hiding the tv from his sight for a mere second but he still whines at you for doing so. Such a crybaby.

Kinich sighs as he feels your hands examining his hair again. “Would you stop doing that ?”

He knows you’re not doing this to annoy him, yet it always kind of stresses him to picture you scanning his scalp without any invitation to do so. He also knows that you don’t care about what he says, continuing to play with his hair while you swipe away some dandruff here and there.

“What’s the matter,” you talked back, seemingly frustrated. “You never say anything when it’s to help you fall asleep.” you argued, feeling really satisfied when he doesn’t find anything to say after that. It for sure helps a lot, he can’t argue with that, but he really hoped you could realize that it works all the time and not only when he wants it to – which means he was getting sleepy, slightly closing his eyes while he still had a lot to do.

A satisfied sigh escaped his lips before he could hold it in and you hummed teasingly. Your hands moved from his head to his chest, your arms caging him against you and you laid your head on top of his. “Tired already ?”

“Shut it.” he sounded harsh but he still rested against your chest as well, feeling at peace being so close to you. He wasn’t really tired but if you let him, Kinich would for sure appreciate some quality time with his head in your chest and your hands in his hair. Not that he’ll say it to you.

Wanderer honestly never mind when you ask him if you can play with his hair, he’s usually already busy and not moving so someone touching his hair while studying doesn’t change much for him. He won’t say that it doesn’t make it easy to concentrate since he, sometimes, tends to focus on this more than on the words written in front of him but he still appreciates how peaceful it makes him feel when he’s particularly worried or stressed.

Your hand running through his short strands of hair takes him somewhere else where he doesn’t need to worry as much, he likes it, even if he would never be physically capable of telling you.

“You’re braiding it ?” he asks, half absent in his question – he just wanted to confirm the feeling of your fingers brushing past his cheeks repeatedly. You hummed softly in response, leaving the braid dying the second you let it go since his hair was too short to handle it. It doesn’t discourage you though, and before he can ask what you’ll do next, he can already feel your steady movement back to the same scheme and a soft chuckle left his lips.

“You want me to stop ?” you asked under your breath, probably still concentrated on what you were doing but still caught his sigh.

“No, it’s fine. Go on.” he assured before stepping back again into his study, more than relaxing by this short break.

Rin loves movie dates to his core, but it always gets him when you start touching his hair in the middle of the movie. It's like he's never getting used to it and he's jolting a bit every single time, making you chuckle. But you always kiss his head as an excuse after. 

There's something relaxing when your fingers start to twirl around his short hair, making him wonder who appreciates it the most between you and him. Because he for sure loves it. 

His mind drifts away easily despite himself and how badly he wants to follow the movie. He always finds some way to lean into you, craving for more like a cat and more often than not, he ends up laying on top of you. 

“Don't fall asleep this time Rin,” you joke while scratching his head playfully. He simply nodded, absorbed in the movie more than you gave him credit for. He just didn't want you to stop.

Sae hates it when he feels your hands finding his hair in the middle of the day. He spends quite some time styling his hair in the morning, even if it doesn’t look like it, and you being nearby automatically becomes a danger for that.

Not that he doesn’t like you touching his hair, he’s fond of it, he wishes he could die with you touching his hair, but not during the day. So as soon as he feels it, he immediately gets up and warns you. “Please don’t.”

But he knows it can't be helped and soon your lips meet his, kissing him sweetly – your successful way to distract him – so you can end up with your hands reaching the hair in his neck. Twirling your fingers around it, pulling ever so slightly to annoy him but he still lets you. Not without a sigh against your lips, but he knows damn well he can't hold you back when you're determined to do something. 

He wishes he could keep his hair pretty for the day at least once in a while but he can't blame you ; both of you like it very much. He can forget his image for yet another day if that means he can appreciate the relaxing feint of your fingernails on his scalp. Even if lately it's starting to be everyday, he won't mention it – or not seriously. 

Your smile is more precious than some good hair day. 

Sakura still isn't used to you touching his hair, he hasn't been used to gentle gestures in his life before coming here  –  especially regarding his looks. The second your hands find his hair, he flinches by reflex even if he knows that it’s only you around him. He doesn’t turn you down anymore though since you always let him know how you love his hair, for the color or the fluffiness ; it’s just the best thing in the word and it got to be your boyfriend’s hair. You must be blessed. 

You still try not to frighten him too much, and start by touching his shoulders then going up to his neck and finally the hair in the nape of it. Twirling it lightly with your fingers and you’re sure to catch him snapping his head to you with a blush. 

“What are you doing ?!” he asked as always, flustered but not telling you to stop anyway which made you smile sweetly. 

“I’m playing with your hair ? You want me to stop ?” you tilted your head to the side, trying to act cute and confused so he doesn’t have the heart to tell you no. And with a resigned look but his brows still frowned, he compiled without adding anything.It’s a win, once again. 

You then slowly but surely brush through all his hair, tossing it one side to another, mixing the two colors together then separating it again like a puzzle. That’s something you grew to love, separating his hair for him and that’s also your best excuse to touch it even when there’s people around. Even if he’s not fond of it.

He tends to lay a bit in your hand when you do so, or when you stop your hand in his hair, quietly liking the feeling now that you’ve given him some time. Not that he’ll say it to you, never, but he doesn’t need to for you to know. It’s just like you to notice how he relaxes around you and when you do it. There’s a small smile on your lips when he tries to catch your eyes but looks away instantly, blushing again, and it makes you wonder when he’ll stop blushing around you. 

“You’re cute, Haruka,” you said, brushing away his bang to kiss his forehead. And without a second of hesitation – when in fact yes, but you tried to ignore it –  he was arguing with you about how he is NOT cute, simply proving your point again and again.

Let me know if you like it !

[anantaru]

cw. best friends need to fuck each other sometimes <3 fem! reader

what's worse?

the vivid realization of fucking your best friend aventurine or that it actually feels fucking nice when you ride him as it all happened so quickly, with want, need and arousal— without your mind working.

it started somewhat innocent, the both of you curious on what's behind those clothes of yours when you begin to masturbate in front of each other— your fingers rubbing over your puffy clit as aventurine watches with big doe eyes, stroking his cock.

high off desperation, he urges you to put a finger into your hole, which you hoped he'd be the one to tell you— to make you do it so it's him who looks even more desperate than you did.

he makes a great show of showing you his thickened cock, right and solid and good wiping his pre over his shaft before bucking into his hand, again again and again fucking into his tight grip imagining it's your tight pussy instead.

the one he's watching getting stuffed by a mere finger. he could've made you cum already, he's certain of it.

aventurine begins to grunt each time you whine when you pump a finger in— and you can see it, how much in pain he was, keeping his teeth dug into his bottom lip to concentrate on making himself cum with his hand.

but it's fast, almost a little bold when he asks you, when both of you think about it;

"you wanna— sit on it, just a bit?" he gasps when you whine back to him, confused and lidded eyes, thrusting your finger in and out of your hole, "only a bit, okay?" you utter back nervously, "five s-seconds, five, not more," lips wet with saliva bestowing pure lust as aventurine was trying to hold it in, his climax and breath, caught in a big gulp.

you hop on top of him, your folds smacking against his shaft as he desperately lines himself up— drawing you still, uttering out another twine of five seconds, only five, fucking five seconds, it's gonna be worth it, you'll see.

"fuck—," he throws his head back, palms branding your ass, "i'm inside of you, fucking inside, oh fuck," as the new feeling of a cock, your best friends cock, sliding into your walls felt so fucking satisfying, so damn filthy and wrong, but good and well at the same time.

it's wrong, it's not, but it is. no it's not.

something so thick and pleasuring can never be wrong.

you're so tight, so fucking tight," he presses into you, your hole filled and thighs shaking, your hips still pushing down to keep more of him in before you let out a squeal at the burning split of his shaft gaping your cunt apart— the tight cunt aventurine always wanted to feel.

the gambler doesn't want mindless fucking, or mundane repetitive one night stands that are bringing him more eye roll than actual pleasure.

actual satisfaction? that's what he wants and he's feeling it right now while stuffing his best friend's sloppy cunt—he desires you strongly, he craved an almost damaging, unspeakable pleasure, his hips jerking reflexively as you're high off the sensation of him.

you choke out your moans, both humping each other filthily, his unforgiving pace bringing you to tears, sweat and saliva drenching you, marking you up, until you're falling apart on your best friends fucking cock.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify