#inspired by personal life stuff lol can you tell
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Don't you ever let anyone tell you that it is too late to switch jobs/careers. Not ever.
Found a job at 18 & stuck with it? Cool.
Wanna change things up every 5 years? Do it.
Wanna start in a new field after devoting 20+ years to a single company? It's never too late!
We only have one dang life on this planet, if you wanna go wild and test all kinds of jobs out & find something your passionate about at 28,39,52? DO IT!
#inspired by personal life stuff lol can you tell#I get looked at SO FUNNY SO OFTEN when I tell new coworkers that I'm 28#glad that you found aomething early on and stuck with it but that's not a universal experience!#I worked as a tour guide for historical places & in customer service since I was 16#and guess what. I'm just not passionate about it anymore. it bores me to death. I just want something new#I'm trying to find a job that's fun again. sue me for not wanting to be miserable at my job. like I see so many others#why is it so weird for people if you wanna change things up every 10 years?? i legit don't get it#I do understand that you stay bc of better pay and rank in your work field but if it's just not fun anymore? why torture yourself?#I know I'm gonna fall down to a ''starter's paycheck'' again. I know that for some that sounds crazy#but it's so worth it if you like what you do again. isn't it?#I test-trial-worked at a dentist's yesterday & the girl showing me around & teaching me stuff was 19#which my sister commented on as 'being embarrassing'. why. why are we pushed so hard into 'one career until you keel over'?#that shit makes me so tired man#I'll probably never be able to stay at a job for more than 10 years cause I'll just get fed up with it & need something new#so what?#woodenelaramble
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MUSE [L.H.]
Logan Howlett x reader
summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them.
warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)
word count: 7.3k
also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism
It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.
When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.
He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him.
Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring.
He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises.
Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing.
He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more.
But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.
So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model.
He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.
He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it.
Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite.
He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it?
But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead?
He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again.
He could give it to you.
Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing?
The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside.
He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it.
Sappy motherfucker.
He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep.
He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse.
You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks.
He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you.
He wakes up with morning wood.
Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.
He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door.
So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart.
It’s soo stupid.
He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps.
He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you.
Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again.
He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself.
It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist?
He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him.
He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.
-
He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw.
“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone.
At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw?
Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it.
“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it.
“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.”
You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing.
“Did you draw it?” He asks.
You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.”
“Secret admirer?”
Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.”
“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended.
“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that.
But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?”
You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”
Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.
“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.”
Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all.
The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created.
-
After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven.
It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing.
This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy.
He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect.
But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end.
It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?).
He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time.
He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.
Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.
Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.
“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him?
“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”
He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.
“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.
“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.
Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”
“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”
He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.
“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”
Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.
Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.
-
He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.
It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know.
“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”
You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.
Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight.
But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.
Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.
It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.
Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.
Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.
Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.
He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.
Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid.
He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.
Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.
“Logan?”
He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.
You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.
He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”
“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.
He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say.
This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.
You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that).
He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile.
This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh.
You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him.
It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone.
It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.
You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears.
“You drew this?” you ask.
He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is.
Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.
You’re kissing him.
You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his.
He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long.
He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better.
Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access.
His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide.
You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged.
“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead.
“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.
You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.
“No one else knows.”
You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.
“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”
“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”
Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”
You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.
“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”
“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.
Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.
You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.
Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.
“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.
“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”
You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”
You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”
Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.
You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”
He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.
“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.
Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath.
“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.
Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”
You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.
“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.
You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.
“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.
“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.
“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.
Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.
“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.
You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.
“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.
Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.
Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.
You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”
Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.
It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.
He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.
You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself.
You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.
“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.
“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.
“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.
“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”
You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”
Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”
You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.
“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.
“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”
“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.
“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”
You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.
“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.
“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.
He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine.
You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.
And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.
“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.
“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”
You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.
“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.
“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.
Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.
“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.
You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.
“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”
You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.
He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.
“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.
“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”
Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.
You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.
You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still.
You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”
Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.
“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”
“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.
“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”
You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.
“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.
“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”
“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”
You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head.
You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while.
Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”
“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.
“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”
“I love your drawings so much.”
Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”
You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is.
For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”
“I’m already yours.”
Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.
P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33
gorgeous divider by @pommecita
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#wolverine x you#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#deadpool and wolverine#fem!reader#selfcarecap
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Wicked Game
wolverine x vampire!reader
an: can u guys tell im not working rn with the amount uploading! also currently working on ch 4! if you guys have any ideas feel free to send me stuff!! i <3 vampire!reader and wanna write more about her :3... also sorry if pacing is weird lol
ch 3
warnings: SMUT!!! fingering, erotic blood drinking, angst lol, prob like cussing lol, im sure there is more so just be warned in general, mdni lol
previous -- next
~~~~~
The proposition weighed heavily on your mind. A chance to return where it all started? You couldn’t stomach the thought. You’d have to ask Logan what he thought. He always knew what to say. You couldn’t dwell on it now, another task was at hand. You smoothed out your denim skirt for the millionth time and stared at your reflection. Nothing seemed appropriate enough. Nothing seemed right when it came to talking about your past. Two hundred and seventy-five years old and this was most nerve racking thing you’ve ever done.
talk in front of teenagers.
Sighing you turned back to your closest when the door of your room slowly opened.
“y/n? Are you ready yet? My class is waiting” Storm entered your room. “Damn you look good! Honestly expected a full Bela Lugosi get up.”
“Very funny, but I am not a vampire.” You said, turning to her.
“Okay yeah, and I don’t control the weather.” She snickered at you. She held out her hand and you grabbed it tightly, allowing yourself to be pulled through the halls of the mansion as the two of you giggled and talked friday night plans.
The two of you reached her classroom and it seemed fuller than normal. You glanced around the room and noticed Logan standing near one of the walls closer to where you’d be presenting. You shot him a smile smile and he nodded back at you, causing your heart to race. You approached the desk at the front of the room and took a deep breath in. You could not only hear your heart pumping, but also every single person in that room.
Turning around you smiled at everyone and sat sheepishly on the desk. You felt Logan’s eyes on you as you listened to Storm start her lecture. You glanced towards him and watched as he sent you a silent message.
You’ll be okay bub. I’m right here.
You turned back to the class and scanned the crowd. It seemed as though every single person was there, even though it was physically impossible. Your eyes zeroed in on Scott and Alex. Alex. Your mind wandered back to what Charles asked of you the previous night.
“I know you don’t do missions since the incident, but you could really benefit Alex.”
“I dedicated my life to medicine, and helping others. I cannot just leave that.”
“Just think about it okay? Its London afterall. Don’t think I don’t know about what the two of you did there”
You quickly glanced away and turned your full attention back to Storm. She was just about finished with her recap of the lesson plan. Her eyes met yours and she winked down at you.
“Now that we have finished Dracula, I thought as a treat instead of a movie, we could hear about the real events from the person who inspired the book herself. This is y/n, your school nurse.” A small round of applause broke out as you stood up from the desk.
“Hi everyone! So yes I inspired Dracula, so please ask me any questions.” Immediately questions rang out towards you. Are you a vampire? How come you don’t sparkle? I thought vampires drink blood!
Typical questions that you usually got from new students that visited your office. You quickly answered them without even thinking about it. Alex raised his hand jokingly before asking you the question you dreaded the most.
“How exactly did you inspire the book?” You paused, silently remembering the events of the night. You felt a knot in your throat before you began.
“In 1895, I met Bram Stoker in a pub. He was strange but endearing. A flirt really, and I knew I was done for. In 1896 I confessed to him my mutation and how at that point I was twenty-five for fifty years at that point. He didn’t believe me of course and when I showed him my true nature, the book was born.” You paused, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “The dedication was for me, and one of the brides had my name at the time and my description. I left Ireland and headed for London after the town found out about it. That’s actually where I met Logan.”
The rest of the class period was full of laughter and more questions about your life in general, but you easily avoided those. As your presentation ended, you thanked Storm for the chance she gave you and promised to get drinks in the future. She walked away from you as Logan approached, wrapping his arm around your waist.
“Good job bub. I knew you could do it.” You pushed his arm jokingly as the two of you started to walk out of the room, as Alex walked up to the two of you. Logan’s grip on your waist tightened.
“To my ever lasting beauty, an ageless angel, my queen of the dark. A book for your life. Wow you really made an impression on this dude. I didn’t realize you only dated what? Tall, dark and handsome. I’ll dye my hair ya know”
“Watch it Alex” Logan muttered, his claws starting to breach his knuckles.
“Woah big guy, I am just teasin. Anyways, y/n I heard the professor talked to you about Europe. What did ya think?” You made a face as you heard Logan’s blood race faster.
“I’m not too sure yet. I am still thinking about everything.” He nodded at your words before wishing you well and ignoring Logan. The two of you watched him walk away.
“What the hell is he talking about?” Logan looked down at you, his face mixing into anger and confusion.
“Lets go to my room okay?”
___
“What the hell do you mean a mission to London? And with him!” Logan snarled at you. You stared him down, not afraid of what he would do to you.
“Calm down Logan! Its not a big deal I haven’t even decided yet!”
“Yeah I’m deciding for you. NO” He paced the left side of the bed as he muttered to himself.
“You don’t control me! I am my own person and I can’t die! Why don’t you trust me?” You felt your fangs push downwards in anger. If you weren’t careful you weren’t sure what would happen.
“I don’t trust him. You won’t go and thats final.” His claws started to extend as he turned towards you. Fuck it.
The two of you lunged at each other and embraced as a tangle of limbs. Your lips crashed onto every piece of skin it met before you finally met his lips. He held you close to his chest and he messily made out with you, somehow managing to rip off your shirt, leaving in just the skirt and bra. His breath reeked of alcohol and his cologne filled your nose. The tobacco residue from an earlier cigar danced on his tongue as you deepened the kiss. You turned to straddle his lap, you pushed him down on the bed and, without thinking, you leaned down and sunk your fangs into his neck.
The warmth of his blood entered your mouth and the taste was euphoric. You continued your frenzy as you started to grind down on his growing erection. He groaned and panted as you nuzzled deeper into his vein. Your hot breath created a layer of pleasure to the holes in his neck and you pushed down harder on his clothed cock.
“Please, fuck, don’t stop.” He choked out, moaning the last word. You didn’t think you could if you even wanted too. The taste of his blood made you whine in his ears as you picked up the pace of your hips, desperate for friction. His hand snaked down to your pussy, fingers slipping into your underwear and onto your clit. Your fangs sunk in deeper as he rubbed circles. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” He picked up the pace making you squeal from pleasure.
“Pl-ee-se-” You couldn’t think. The friction, his fingers, his blood. Without warning, you came hard on his fingers, allowing yourself to get lost in the heat of the moment.
Eyes half lidded you removed your fang from his neck and you looked down at the mess created. Blood stained the sheets, pillows, his shirt, and most likely everything else on the bed. Your mouth and neck was covered in a sheer layer of his blood.
You snapped back to reality and realized what you had done.
“Logan I’m- I can’t. I have to go.” Quickly you threw on a random shirt and left as quickly as you came, leaving Logan in the mess.
His neck already healing, his lifted his pants to stare at the mess left. Cuming in his pants was so middle school, but it wouldn’t be the first time this happened. Before being forced into the weapon x program, you fed on him regularly. Back then, your insatiable bloodlust wasn’t controlled, and he loved it.
Trapped in the trance of euphoria, he didn’t realize you had gone. Slowly succumbing to sleep, Logan wouldn’t realize until the morning that you had gone. He ran through the mansion praying you’d still be in the confines of the walls. It was too late when he finally reached you.
Watching as you left with Alex Summers to a mission to Europe.
~~~~~
tag list: @captain039 @twinky-wink @fuckmachine42069 @honeybeedrabble
an: omg the drama!! also thank yall so much for ur support :3
#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x reader smut#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett#wolverine x reader smut#wolverine smut#wolverine#xmen#vampire!reader#wicked game
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You Belong With Me
wc: 2.9 (i got excited lol)
warnings: angst/conform!; eddie!xfem!bestfriend!; there is a smutty scene but nothing too serious; depreciation and low self esteem; friends to lovers!- they’re just obsessed with each other
tell me if i’m missing something!
a/n: Hi guys, i’ve been off for a while, a little longer than expected, but i needed to organize some stuff from my personal life. Anyways, i wrote this, of course is not super original, but i’ve been with this ideia of using songs, this one in particular, to write stories. As a source of inspiration. I hope you like it! <3
You and Eddie have been friends for a long time, longer than it seems, and he has always been there for you. When your mother yelled at you for some reason and you got upset or for when you needed money and he helped you, even though he didn’t had any and you knew it, he help you anyway or when you graduated and he was held back but he got happy for you and even took you out on a fancy dinner, to celebrate. He was always by your side and you were always by his.
There was kind of a rule between the two of you, if one of you gets sad or mad about anything is an obligation to call the other. Honestly it was just another reason to see each other. And today, well, you can tell it was not your happiest day ever. You were fired from this job you got five months ago in a bookstore because they couldn't pay the rent and the place went bankrupt. You were so happy with this job, genuinely, but you guessed that wasn’t enough.
So you didn’t waisted a minute and immediately called Eddie, it was a super emergency meeting that you wanted to spent all your money (the money that was left over) in ice cream. But he didn’t answer. You tried one, two, three times, but there was no answer. So, instead of trying a fourth time, you headed straight to the trailer park, a place which the way you already knew by heart.
It was already dark when you parked your car in front of his trailer and there was a red car, a BMW. That was odd. Eddie had a van that you were yet not sure how it was standing by itself and Wayne had a truck. You just ignored the car standing there and went to the door. As you got closer to the door, you could hear loud music coming from inside, to be more specific it was “Sex and Outrage” from Motörhead. You just ignored and got in, you knew that if you kept trying to call him from just knocking at the door, he wouldn’t listen. That’s probably why he didn’t answer the phone in first place.
So you walked down the little corridor to where his room was but stopped the second you heard a voice. A girl’s voice. And she wasn’t talking. You also heard his voice in the same tone as hers. You risked taking a look and there was the girl you had heard, on top of him bouncing up and down in the yellow lights of his room. Her hands squeezed and held his hand against her breasts. They both were moaning as if they were in a porn movie. You felt your eyes burning with tears. This girl was no stranger.
Margaret Fowler, or Maggie as everyone called her, was one of the most popular girls in your school. You weren’t in her class, she’s two years older than you and graduated before and yet people still talked about the most talented cheerleader and hot chick to walk through those corridors. To be with her was just a a fantasy, or at least it was what the boys said.
You couldn’t believe that she was there, naked and fucking your best friend. She opened her eyes and saw you standing there behind the little slit of the door like you were a perv watching them fuck. It didn’t took you long to run away before she could say something. You didn’t wait another second to start the car and get out of there as soon as possible. Tears started to fall from your eyes. When did that happen? You haven’t seen him in a week or so. How did Maggie end up there with him. It seemed like a lie, because most girls stayed with Eddie either to lose their virginity or to see what it was like to be with the freak. You hated yourself for thinking like that, but it was the truth, or at least it was what he told you. But you never understood how no one saw him the way you did. He had a charm, something that even you couldn’t explain. It was some sort of magnet that pulled you to him even though you didn’t want to.
But of course you never told him. How could you? The only person who knew was Robin. You had such a good relationship and how could he like you. Now it was all you could think about.
“Please, wake up, will you? Look at her. She has an amazing body, she was the cheer captain, popular and with beautiful hair and friends AND she’s older than you… and him. Most men like that, right?. And you… you wear t-shirts, you’re a bookworm, average non-interesting girl that on school games, were always on the bleachers waiting for your friend to play with her band.”
Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop……..
Without even realizing, you drove to Robin’s house and started to desperately knock at her door
***********
It only took you two 30 minutes to put on a stupid movie and open some ice cream pots. You cried more and explained everything to Robin.
“I should have just walked away, it would’ve saved me all these tears. I’m so fucking stupid. On my head, he belonged to me!” You said looking at her TV and putting the spoon in your mouth. “They really mean it Robin, when they used to say that she looked like an angel!”
Robin just mumbled “Believe me, i know…”
“And i feel really bad because i should be happy for him right? I mean, i’m his friend and… oh wait, what if they’re dating? Oh no, then we can’t be fri-”
“Y/N! STOP WITH THAT! I’ve heard you and i’m here for you but won’t stand listen to you go all crazy on your own assumptions, and i won’t stand neither of this treatment i’m seeing here. Do you see how bad are you talking about yourself? You are so much more than that! So please… why don’t we wait until this whole…. thing settle down and then we can talk about it, maybe go to Eddie’s and see what is actually happening?”
In the moment she stopped talking you heard someone knocking at the door.
“Oh fuck! Oh shit it’s him, i can feel it!”
“Calm down woman. You stay here, i’ll go check.”
You shrunk on the couch as you waited for her to answer the door.
“Thank god! Hey Robin, is she… is she here?” You heard a very familiar voice coming from behind you. So he knew that you were there, great! Just awesome!
“Look Eddie, do you know what day is today?” I could see the face she was making and i had to hold my laugh. Eddie stayed quiet. “Today is my sacred day! Full of mundane activities such as watching movies and eating a lot of ice cream and not giving a damn about the world outside and now, with this kind of unexpected visit of yours, you are interrupting my peace so if you please just… go. That would be great! I’m not being rude, it’s just the day, remember.” Robin was closing the door, i could hear it squeaking, but then there was a stomp. “Eddie… if you want to talk to her, why don’t you go to her house?”
“What, do you think i’m fucking stupid? i tried to call her, but she didn’t answer the phone then i drove there and kept knocking at the door for minutes but nobody was home so i came here, hoping to find her and now, for your behavior, you just turned yourself in. So please, i really really have to talk to her.” He spoke with no pauses, all just rushed. You had to really pay attention to understand every single word.
“Where is this girlfriend of yours? I mean, that’s none of my business but, how come you were having sex with like, the most popular girl we know?” Robin changed the subject in a not so natural way. You mentally thanked her for trying to help you.
“She is not my girlfriend! This was casual fuck.” He yelled at her, but then he got himself back together. “Not that i need to explain myself but we were playing at the Hideout and she was there on the crowd. I was surprised to see her there. As far as i knew, she was just one of the many boring popular kids in school that only got popular because she looked twice her age. But she started to hit on me and i was miserable, ok! I just needed to forget everything. And you know how it is, i don’t have a long list full of girls that wants to be with me. So i just acted easy and… well.” I could see his face now. He was ashamed, with those big puppy eyes.
“Can you wait here?” It took her a couple of seconds to absorb everything he said and to speak again. He probably just nodded because i heard the door close.
“You have GOT to go there! Come on, go talk to him.” She yelled-whispered to me
“Robin, i can’t, not now.” I said getting up speaking in the same tone
“Why not?”
“If i see his face, i don’t think i can take it, i’m too weak now, i’ll just fall into his charm again! I need to be well enough so i won’t ruin everything.” You know that if you walked past that door, in this moment of weakness, you would cry your eyes out again and you would beg him to be with you. In short, you would just humiliate yourself.
“Nonsense! You go there and face it. It’s right there outside, you can’t runway from that man which is by the way your best friend. Honestly, i know that you got sad but, that man is Eddie. You know how he is, he would never do those things that you were saying.” Of course you were being dramatic, it was easier to just start assuming things than actually having to face them.
You just nodded and walked to the door. With a very fake bravery, you opened the door once more. There he was, all anxious, grumpy and smoking a cigarette. You always find it funny this little pout he puts on.
“Hi sweetheart… can we talk, please?” His words came out softly from his lips, contrasting with the way he was talking to Robin, and he threw the cigarette away.
You just nodded and closed the door. He was analyzing your swollen red eyes and as if it would protect you, you cross your arms.
“I’m sorry that i ran away like that, i didn’t mean to ruin your night or to concern you but i just didn’t think it would be good if i stayed, you know? And i had a very shitty day and…” The breeze of the night hits your face and you feel lines under your eyes getting colder than the rest of your body. Great, you were crying again! “I just really needed a friend and i was completely wrong to invade your house like that, i’m really sorry for that too, i just heard loud music and i thought that you were there practicing or whatever. I just… sorry Eddie.” You could hold anymore and you broke into tears again.
He was listening very carefully and didn’t waist a second before giving you a hug, a very tight and gentle hug. You started to ground yourself in his arms.
“I’m not going to force you, but would you like to tell me why was your day so bad?” He said still hugging you.
“I got fired, it’s a long story but the bookstore is closing and i was going to yours so we could call the night you know?…” He hummed and caressed your hair. “And you know the rest.”
“I’m sorry i wasn’t there for you. I was also going to call the night but then… i think you heard it too?” It was your time to hum and you broke the hug.
“Look, i’m just going to say it, because i’m holding it back since i realized and i think if you’re smart enough, you’re going to connect the dots anyhow so… i think it’s better just to tell you.” He was still close to you, looking at your eyes anxious. “I like you Eddie, i really do! Not in this cute little friend way, i’m not talking about that. I’m talking about complaining to Robin and Steve every time you hook up with a girl because i know they don’t know you like i do, they don’t get you humor, your music and what is means to you, your friends and the club, and a whole different part of your life that only i know. I keep telling them ‘you guys don’t understand what i’m talking about, but i’m telling you, he belongs with me!’. You belong to me and not some other random girl who is not interested in the Eddie that i know. And i get even more angry after realizing that even knowing you enough, I wouldn’t be enough to be with you.” At this point, i just seemed like a foolish spoiled girl, but i didn’t care anymore, i needed to say everything, all those words. “I know i don’t sound completely sane right now but it is exactly how i feel. And i didn’t want to ruin everything by telling you just so you could open my eyes that i was being delusional and we could never be together.”
He just stood there, without saying a word. You just took deep breaths hoping he wouldn’t think you were too crazy.
“First of all, you heard that i said i was miserable right? That i just accepted Margaret, not because she is Margaret, but because a she was a girl who wanted to do something with me?” You just nodded your head too scared of what would be the next words coming out of his mouth. “Sweetheart i was miserable because Steve talked to me earlier, he said that you wouldn’t stop talking about some guy, and how your eyes would be in heart shape every time you looked at him. And even though i bugged him to tell me who it was he didn’t. I went crazy! I wanted to know why were you into some guy who was probably everything that i was not. I felt like shit, i just took advantage of her. I know it’s not right but i just needed someone who could fuck my thoughts out of me and she was there. Believe me, that moment you saw us, she was not on my head at all.”
You were in shock. You didn’t say anything, you probably couldn’t even blink. Was he really declaring himself back to you?
“And second of all, why lady, why did you think that you were not good enough to be with me? Is very amusing, i’m not gonna lie, the fact that you think that i am good enough for anything.” You were about to interrupt him but he was faster, he just spoke louder than you. “You don’t have the right to tell me what to think of a girl, if she is good enough or not. I decide that, and believe it or not when i tell you that i was the one thinking that i wasn’t good enough for you.”
He caught you by surprise! You didn’t expect to be scolded like that. You didn’t have words to describe what you were feeling and, probably, neither did he. You just kept looking at each other not knowing what to do next.
“We’re really stupid, you know…” You said and he giggled. That sound made you smile. You felt lighter with that.
“What now? What are we going to do?” He said putting his hands in his pockets.
You just wanted to do something so this weird vibe was gone. So you hugged him. It took seconds before he hugged you back. It was even better than the first one.
“Sorry that i turned this into a huge confusion…” You said in a barely above a whisper
“Only if you forgive me too.”
You separated a little just so you could see his face. You didn’t say anything, just leaned into a gentle kiss which he fully accepted. His soft lips met yours and you could feel butterflies flying in your stomach. His hands that once were in your waist came up to your neck. His big hands grabbing and pulling you closer to him. Your hands also traveled and they stopped right on his chest. You could feel his heartbeats and they were faster than ever. That only made you smile into the kiss. Like it was contagious, he smiled too and with that you just separated your lips and leaned your foreheads.
“You guys i NEED to go there and hug you both, so pleeeeease tell me i can just go there!” Robin said. anxious. Of course she was listening to everything.
You and Eddie laughed and called her to come out. After talking about this whole misunderstanding between you two, Robin invited him to have a night with you girls, only this time, it wasn’t about bad events but to commemorate!
#Spotify#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson headcanon#eddie munson angst#best friend eddie#friends to lovers#robin buckley#stranger things#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie x you#taylor swift#taylor swift fearless
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how do you fall in love with yourself
unlearn the idea that confidence is conceit. i see this belief imposed on women especially, that if they’re very unapologetic about loving themselves it automatically means they’re narcissistic / think they’re better than everybody else. that’s not true at all. you can love yourself while also acknowledging you’re not inherently better than anyone else. you can love yourself while also being kind & supportive to others. it’s okay to be both of these things at once.
let go of the scarcity mindset. women (everyone really, but especially women) get pitted/compared against each other all the time. you see it w female celebrities in the media, but it’s very prevalent in real life as well. this is very much years of societal conditioning & both women & men partake in this behavior. ignore it. rest easy knowing that there can be multiple beautiful women, multiple smart women, multiple funny women in any environment at any given time. there is enough clout to go around; you don’t need to feel like if there’s another pretty/smart girl it means you no longer have the space to also be a pretty/smart girl. instead operate from an abundance mindset: always (alwaysss) be happy for other girls when they succeed, when they’re praised, when they’re loved, whatever. see them not as competition but as inspiration. envy is such a colossal waste of time bc nobody else’s accomplishments have any bearing on your own!!
get to know yourself more. i love the analogy of dating yourself bc it’s true. i went through a rough period of being around my ex 24/7 to the point i didn’t even know myself, and then i spent the post-breakup year hanging around everyone else constantly to numb my thoughts. now i’m spending more time alone than ever & i’m getting to know myself so much. learning about my taste in fashion, music, everything. and i’ve had so much more time to invest in hobbies & skills, which is very instrumental to building healthy self-esteem. ofc there’s a more balanced way to do this, but make sure you’re not running away from yourself!
what do you like outside of everybody’s opinion? don’t interpret this the wrong way—it’s completely fine to be inspired. every single person you know has copied someone else to an extent. but if you find yourself going too far, not trusting yourself to make the simplest decisions, just following trends blindly and nothing else, you’ve left the inspiration territory and started crossing into plagiarism. move from a place of self-direction and really think about what is naturally appealing to you. it doesn’t matter if it’s not popular or nobody else likes it. if you like it & if it makes you happy, that’s all you need.
practice self-love! i had to do this lol but it works wonders. i started intentionally telling myself that i trust my own taste, that i trust my own choices, that if i think something’s cool it’s good enough, talking to myself kindly etc etc. eventually all this stuff will become natural to you & you won’t find yourself having to expend so much energy into simply loving you for you. don’t give up even if it’s hard to believe at times.
don’t give a fuck. seriously. just don’t give a single flying fuck what someone else has to say. there will always be That One Person who tries to tear you down, belittles you, gaslights you etc etc and if you know in your heart you’re not doing anything wrong, just ignore and keep it pushing. you can’t be everyone’s favorite person (nor should you want to be). think of your favorite celebrity. anyone ever. they probably all got subjected to hate. now think of how they’re successful still & how it didn’t take anything away from them. there you go <3
if literally everyone on this planet starts hating you, loving yourself is still the antidote. to clarify, how others perceive us does hold weight. but if legit every single person i know started hating me, and i still loved myself, i’d probably still live a full life bc my perception is all that really matters in the end. i don’t need anyone else to be my #1 fan—i can do that myself just fine. it technically is actually your world & everyone else is just living in it. so enjoy that! stop giving a hard time to the one person who will always be w you through thick and thin (yourself). eat good food & watch good shows & read good books & just have fun. i love u
#i have a lot to say ab this bc i went from being in a very low place to now being my own favorite girl in the world so#also i refer to women a couple of times here but really this is applicable to everyone!!#ask
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Me??????
Thank you to everyone who tagged me for the simblr appreciation 💗 That was @bouncytrait, @elderwisp, @catsinmugs, @bloomingkyras, @woohoojuicesimoleons2,
@spotlessssmiind, and @smulie :)
I am so happy you thought of me and I love your blogs too!!
I’d like to tag everyone, but I can’t do that. However, I can acknowledge all of you whose posts I come across every day! I make sure to hit the like button to let you know that there’s someone here waiting for your next post. If I haven’t been liking recent posts, it’s because I’m reading your story from the beginning. I’m an awfully slow reader, so my apologies. I like to take my time and not rush through the stories to ensure I understand everything and take in all the small details.
Also, I know it can be easy to become disillusioned on here but trust me, there are a lot of incredible people. I see them every day on my dash.
I’ll mention some of my friends here who inspire me. Um, it's kinda long:
@changingplumbob: I don’t know how she balances so many projects at once and does it all with love! Each one of her characters is unique and steals the spotlight. When it comes to her posts, I'm either philosophizing or laughing. It's also admirable how much research she puts into the stories she writes. You can definitely tell!
@deardiaryts4: I love people who do extra things for their sims just like me LOL. She doesn’t have to make a music video or album cover CC. Nor does she have to create actual code for us to solve a mystery, but she does it anyway because she's passionate! She gives it 110% every time with her intriguing story and gameplay.
@ruthplaysthesims goes DEEEEPP into the lore! Blink and you'll miss it. She also has an impressive cast of characters. There are many mysteries in her stories that I am itching to have the answers to. I need to see/know!!!
@abbysimsfun OMG I absolutely love her style of writing, which became a recent influence over my own. She's also a fellow fan and user of Chekhov's guns (I know the name of that literary device now because of her hehehe. No, no actual guns here!). I am captivated by the storytelling!
@dreamyyesenia is so incredibly sweet! She also takes her sims' personalities and interests very seriously and creates the perfect homes/wardrobes for them. She's a master at it and I'm taking notes.
@authorspirit: Her builds are absolutely fantastic. Joy is a smart cookie and she does everything with precision. I really like the chic and regal aesthetic in her posts too. Quite demure
@sharona-sims is my slice-of-life queen!!!! She seems apologetic for the "slow pace" of her gameplay, but I don't mind it one bit. I could keep up with Lily and Michael for the rest of my life, idc, I love them.
@teadreamsims is immensely creative and a great storyteller. I always forget they play on console. That just shows how important imagination is. The gameplay with Fern and the rotational gameplay with the townies happened ages ago but they live in my head rentfree.
@aurorangen: Details details details!!!!! I eat it all up and Rory always gives us extra insight and behind-the-scenes stuff. She's talented in both writing and telling her stories through pictures. And her builds are insane.
@cakepoppresent: Nahhhhh cuz the drama and the wholesomeness, omg. I like how we explore different groups of characters at a time and it never seems like too much. And her videos are everything.
@miralure is on hiatus sadly :( But she definitely left her mark, I never forget her. When I came back to Simblr, I had no idea a lot of people saw commenting as an "embarrassing" thing? She was very welcoming and her mindset is the one I've been following ever since. Because of her, I'm often all up in your guys's comments like nothing lmao. Anyway, her lookbooks were perfection as well as her male sims. Amazing.
@windslar also seems to be on hiatus :( I admire the way she composes her dialogue posts through photos and I've been trying to do it as well as she does. The facial expressions, the angles, etc! It's cinematic.
@cinamun: I don't even have to explain, but I will anyway. The drama, the real-life-issues, the gifs, the heartfelt moments, the plot twists, the in-depth characters, the lore, the background, the wardrobes. Phenomenal work!
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CONGRATS FOR THE 500 FOLLOWERS! 💫💫 can i request letters A, B, O, P, Q, S and Y of the sfw list for Malleus and Vil? But in a platonic way, as friendship, if you can<3
🍓I've had this one sitting in my inbox for a while because I've just not been in the mood to write for Malleus. He's a special flavor of autistic that I can only write when the inspiration strikes lol.
Malleus
A - Affection: Malleus is VERY affectionate! He's been loved on a lot by Lilia, so I wouldn't say he's touch-starved, but he does act like he is. He always wants to be holding you in some way, and if you are in his vicinity he will come and find you just to be near you. Always greets you with a hug and a kiss, regardless of who is around or where you're at. Worst of all, he gets pouty and throws a Malleus brand temper tantrum if you deny him any affection.
B - Best Friend: It's really weird to be best friends with Malleus. You sorta found him somewhere on accident, spoke with him, and gained yourself a dragon. You don't ever see him in any place that is conventional or normal, and you rarely actually "hang out" with him. When you do see him, though, he's prone to have these really deep interesting conversations with you and then disappear. Quite freaky.
O - Open: It doesn't occur to Malleus that, maybe, he doesn't need to tell you his whole life story at random times of the day. I mean, seriously, you guys will be doing something like study, and then he'll drop that fattest lore bomb known to man and leave you speechless.
P - Patience: Not very. In fact, most things that would piss other people off just tend to make him laugh. He's essentially a god amongst men with an ego to match, and that ego is anything BUT fragile. It's hard to make him mad. You can upset him and make him out, but anger is rare and SCARY.
Q - Quizzes: He's both really good and very bad. Malleus both has some much going on in his head and absolutely nothing. He remembers important dates, and all of your favorite things, but when it comes to like pulling through on important stuff? He sucks! He forgets! He feels so bad after too, like on his knees begging for forgiveness. Then, at the same time, he'll remember something really obscure that you mentioned in passing and it makes you wonder how the hell his mind works.
S - Security: Oh, Malleus is the MOST protective out of anyone in the twst cast. He's a dragon, after all, and they're mostly known for protecting things. You are his most prized and adored treasure, and he protects you as such. I'm talking like, he's always by your side, always watching you, always ready to jump at the chance to show you how amazing and powerful he is. Now, he never gets the chance because who in their right mind would ever upset THE Malleus Draconia, but he still keeps hoping.
Y - Yuck: He hates it when his title is held over his head. He wants friends and connections and love, but his crown gets in the way. If you ever try to use him for his power that would be an instant no from him, especially if he thought you loved him for more than just his position.
Vil
A - Affection: Vil is like... moderately affectionate. Now, he's not exactly the sweetest person. Vil is all about appearances, and hanging off in public doesn't exactly look good. In private, though? He's making up for the missed affection tenfold. Now he's not a huge cuddler, but he is a kisser. And kiss you he does, everywhere. He's so pleased with the bright red lipstick marks all over your face. On top of that, he pampers you like a princess. Massages, face masks, sweets and tea. Only the best for his darling.
B - Best Friend: Vil just decides that you're friends, and then you're stuck with him. It's really not bad though! He's quite a gossip, so you hear all the latest drama around the halls of NRC. You get free makeovers and get to relax around Pomefiore whenever you want. Most importantly, your social status rises to the top, because any friend of Vil's could be a friend worth having.
O - Open: Vil? Open? Please. He's got walls up greater than the wall of China. It takes him a lot of time to open up to you because all of those stupid emotions he's feeling make him so weak. Once you get the first bit of Vil lore, though, he's like a running faucet and just spills everything everywhere. It really makes you both grow so much closer though.
P - Patience: Eh. He's not awful, better than Riddle at least. Vil does have a temper though, and it's not as uncommon to see it as you may think. Now, he rarely ever gets mad at you unless you do something so stupid that he can't help it in his disbelief. Still, his anger is a sight to witness, and much worse when it's directed at you.
Q - Quizzes: Vil is very good at knowing everything there is to know about you. He writes it down, actually! In his notes app! He has a whole list that's just about you and your likes and dislikes and everything you tell him that he thinks is important. He makes sure to utilize it all the time, and it's really sweet how seen he makes you feel.
S - Security: Vil is moderately protective of you. He doesn't really worry about anyone in your classes, it's rare to find someone actually willing to mess with him. What he is worried about is the media. If they got ahold of you, his more intense fans might try to rip you apart. So, he shields you from that as best as he can, because he doesn't want to see you hurt.
Y - Yuck: If you only want him for his beauty. He is pretty, he knows that, and he understands that it's likely a part of why you love him. However, if you only seem to care about how pretty he is or only compliment his looks, he hates it. There is more to him, why can't you see that?
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#bunni's treats 🧁#malleus draconia x reader#malleus draconia#vil schoenheit x reader#vil schoenheit
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Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 11
Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen
Read this fic on AO3 (Link)
Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.
…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.
Chapter Summary: Tav is having a hard time adjusting to freedom. Her mind is haunted with a certain devil, and she remembers a situation with him that happened before she was released from her imprisonment.
AN: This is not the final chapter. I know what I said, but I wanted to torture Tav some more. After thinking about it, I'm not sure how many chapters are left at this point, but I'll try to give an estimate as I come closer. After getting more time on my hands, I thought a bit more about this fic and got a bit more inspired again. I think I was getting a too stressed out with real life stuff and became too eager to end it due to that. I just know that I don't want to stress or rush it, because I have grown stupid attached to these two. On the other hand, I also don't want to draw it out for too long either (I'm thinking 15 chapters would be my limit). What can I say? My creative process is a mess lol.
TRIGGER WARNING: Gore and Blood
Tav isolated herself for days after she had been freed. She did not feel like talking to anyone. All she felt like was being alone, and gods, did she feel alone. It did not matter how many days went past, she still expected to wake up in Raphael’s bed and that it had all been a dream. She was waiting for the hammer to fall.
Though, the hammer had already fallen, so to speak. She was free. There were no longer infernal chains around her wrists, so why did she still feel so trapped then? She was trapped in her head, replaying every interaction again and again.
One in particular took up a lot of space in her mind. It was two nights before she had been freed.
When she went to bed that night, Raphael was still not home. She began to worry. Not for him, of course, Tav had told herself. It was more the fact that if something had happened to him, then what would happen to her and Hope?
She managed to fall asleep but about an hour later she was woken by the sounds of things crashing to the ground. She flicked her wrist and lit some of the candles in the boudoir to figure out what was going on.
She saw the silhouette of a winged and horned person. Someone who she hoped was Raphael, though he had never arrived home in that manner. Her heart started racing.
“Raphael?” she asked quietly.
She saw the head of the silhouette turn towards her and two orange eyes looked at her, though they quickly squeezed shut and she heard what sounded like a groan of pain. She recognized the groan, and it was Raphael.
“Go to sleep,” he ordered through gritted teeth and grabbed something from a drawer.
She squinted at him. It was difficult to see what was going on in the darkness. She did not like that harsh tone of his or the fact that he sounded like he was in pain.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
She heard more sounds of stumbling about, which prompted her to get out of bed and investigate. She casted Dancing Lights and walked closer to him. His back was turned to her, and she saw blood on the floor.
“Did I not tell you to go to sleep?” he hissed. “Leave me.”
“What happened to you?” Tav asked confused and stared at the blood on the floor.
Raphael started walking out of the boudoir and away from her. She noticed that he was slightly limping.
“Where are you going? You’re injured. Get in the pool!” Tav said and followed him.
“Tav, I will not tell you agai—” he interrupted himself with a yelp of pain and dragged himself to the nearest chair and sat down.
Tav finally got a look of what was wrong with him. The whole left side of his body was wet with dark blood, and he was holding a hand over the left side of his face. There were green shards of what looked like shattered glass, impaling the whole left side of his body. Some of the shards were tiny, while others were the length of her forearm. He was breathing hard.
It suddenly made sense why the restoration pool would not do. The shards would need to be pulled out before anything could heal.
“Go…” he said, this time sounding more defeated than angry, avoiding her eyes with the one that wasn’t covered by his hand.
He was not playing with her for once. She could hear it in his voice. He sounded like he was in genuine pain. It tugged at her heartstrings despite herself, and she cursed the feeling internally. How could she feel sympathy for a monster like him?
“Fuck…” she cursed under her breath and the façade she had so carefully held up the last few days fell, as she saw Raphael’s do the same.
She saw how tense he looked and the way he was hiding his face from her. He reminded her of a wounded animal that was protecting itself in a moment of weakness.
“Let me help,” she said.
“I do not need or want your help,” he growled stubbornly. “Go to bed.”
“I don’t care, you’ll get it regardless,” she said quietly. “Sit still.”
She heard a groan of annoyance, but he did not move. His one exposed eye followed her around as she gathered supplies around the house. Raphael had already brought a pair of tongs from the drawer in the boudoir, so she went to get a rag, a plate for the shards, and two bowls of water: one with normal water, the other with water from the restoration pool.
She returned to him with the supplies and put them on the small table beside the chair he was sitting in. He watched her every move.
She grabbed the wrist that he was holding over the left part of his face and tried to pull it away. She did not manage to move it as much as an inch as he held it there.
“Raphael,” she said sternly. “I need to see your face. You have blood dripping down your neck. Let me see.”
“I will do it myself,” he said stubbornly, though it was clear that he was in a lot of pain.
Tav became frustrated with him.
“If it’s vanity, I really could not care less,” she said and pointed to the burn scars on her own face. “I cleaned and took care of my own scars when I got these and trust me it was not a pretty sight either. Move your hand.”
He was scowling at her, but he slowly removed his hand. Tav winced and inhaled sharply when she saw his injuries, which made him quickly move his hand back over his face and roll his eyes.
“I told you,” he said. “I’m aware it’s a grim sight and I will take care of it myself.”
“To the Hells with how it looks,” Tav said frustratedly. “It looks painful. It was a reaction out of sympathy, not disgust. Move your hand.”
Raphael’s eye twitched in annoyance, but he moved his hand away so she could get a proper look. One of the shards had almost sliced a piece of his cheek off, and the piece of skin was loosely dangling. Another larger piece had just missed his eye and was lodged into his cheek right below it, which had made the area around his eye bruise and swell up.
She moved her hand to his face and gently turned it. Her hand hovered above the shard that was under his eye. She looked into his eyes before doing anything.
“Do you need anything to bite down on?” she asked. “This is going to hurt.”
“Please,” he said and brushed the idea away with a hand gesture as if she was ridiculous for asking.
“Now is not the time to play brave,” she said frustratedly. “If you move while I do this, you might lose an eye. I can knock you out with a spell if you want. It will make it easier for me.”
“No,” he said. “Proceed.”
She sighed.
“You need to be completely still,” she said. “I’m not strong enough to keep your head from moving.”
She put her hand on his opposite cheek to hold his head steady as she could. She carefully tightened her grip around the shard and started slowly pulling it out. Raphael winced and groaned in pain.
She hated hearing those sounds of genuine pain from him, and it stressed her out.
“Shhh. It’s almost out, it’s almost out, it’s almost out,” she said and pulled.
They were both breathing faster before she finally got it out. Her reaction to his pain annoyed her to no end. She tried to crush those feelings of sympathy in her mind. He was not worth her pity, she reminded herself.
She looked at the shard once it was out and then at Raphael’s face.
“That was the worst of it…” she said. “Now it’s just the smaller bits and then I can clean it.”
Raphael closed his eyes for a moment.
“Your commentary is highly unnecessary,” Raphael said. “You are not a healer, so I would rather not know. Just get it over with.”
“I’ll have you know I studied medicine during my apprenticeship as a wizard,” Tav said quietly, and plucked another smaller shard out of his face.
He winced slightly.
“Did you now? Why would an evocation wizard be taught medicine?” Raphael asked skeptically.
“Alright, ‘studied’ might be an overstatement,” Tav admitted. “The medicine books were the only ones I had not read in my teacher’s library, and when I got bored of my own studies, I sort of sifted through them.”
“How reassuring…” Raphael drawled.
Tav let another shard drop onto the plate with the others.
“What is this stuff anyway?” she asked. “Is it just glass?”
“It is a type of glass, yes,” Raphael said. “It was either enchanted or laced with some kind of poison. Hence the p—” Raphael groaned as a shard that had dug deeper was pulled out of him. “Pain…”
Though Tav took no pleasure in seeing his pain, it was nice to hear him talk without all the theatrics and mind-games for once. It was all just him. They both had an unspoken truce from the game they usually played.
“Can I ask what happened?” Tav asked.
Raphael sighed tiredly at the question.
“You make a lot of enemies in my line of work and especially with my status in the Hells…let’s keep it at that.”
“Do you mean people who are jealous or…?” Tav asked.
A smile tugged on his lips.
“In a way, but not quite,” Raphael said. “Though I have to admit it is somewhat flattering that you would think that is the case…”
“It wasn’t really my intention to stroke your ego,” she said. “It’s just an observation that you seem pretty well off. What is it then?”
Raphael opened his eyes and looked up at her while she cleaned his face.
“You know what I am…” he said.
“You’re a devil…” she answered while dabbing his wounds with a wet cloth. “And, well…if you want to be technical about it, you’re a cambion. Though I always thought you would incinerate me if I pointed that out, so I never did.”
“Clever girl,” he purred. “Why do you think that is?”
She did have her theories. She clearly remembered his little fit back when they met him at Sharess’s Caress about him ‘not being a mortal’.
She wrung the bloody cloth into the bowl of normal water before dipping it into the water from the restoration pool.
“Do you want an honest answer to that?” she asked before dabbing the water unto his face. His wounds quickly healed.
“I only ever want honest answers, mouse,” he said.
Tav paused her movements for a second and looked him in the eye. She wondered just how honest he actually wanted her to be. Then again, she had avoided his wrath for this long, so what the hell? She was not going to pass up the opportunity to give him a piece of her mind.
“I think you like to posture as more than you are,” she said. “You create your own little world where you are the highest and most important person, and you pull other people in, such as myself, to fulfill that perfect image in your head…Do you want me to continue or is that growing expression on your face my cue to shut up?”
Raphael looked slightly offended at her bluntness but gestured for her to continue.
“I think that we mortals buy into it, but I am not so sure about the other devils of the Hells,” she said. “I would also add something about your seeming issues with your father, but I am not quite feeling suicidal yet, so I won’t. Was that honest enough for you?”
Raphael still looked somewhat miffed, but he could not help but smile at her candidness.
“There is some truth to it, of course…” he said. “Mortals hate me because they fear me, and devils hate me because they foolishly see me as below them. It was a devil who did this to me. Someone who saw me as an easy target for their anger. They were wrong.”
It was sad, in a way. He was unwanted everywhere he went. Though with all the things he had done, it was still hard to truly feel bad for him.
“Hm,” Tav hummed. “And yet you cling to the devil part, don’t you? I know I’m pushing my luck with how much it takes for you to finally snap at me, but have you considered that you might have more luck with at least the mortals if you weren’t such a cruel asshole?”
Raphael chuckled.
“There is nothing for cambions on the Material Plane,” he explained. “Nothing but a life in hiding from the world, if they are lucky enough to even survive, that is. In both places, one thing is true for those like myself: you either make others fear you or you will have to live a life of fear yourself, always looking over your shoulder.”
“What a depressing way to see things…” she mumbled as she worked on removing the shards from his shoulder and upper torso.
“Perhaps,” Raphael said with a shrug, looking down at her hands as she worked. “But I would not have lived for as long as I have, did I not see my circumstances for what they were.”
She looked up and met his eyes briefly before she went back to working on his shoulder.
Cruel circumstances did not excuse cruel actions. Tav knew this, and yet she found herself once again annoyingly sympathetic to what he was saying. Had it not been the exact same thing that drove her to kill her father when she was younger? She was done being afraid and it drove her to kill him and unfortunately her mother too.
It was not the same as torturing souls or keeping an innocent cleric locked in one’s basement, obviously. And yet. Perhaps she really was no better than him, when it came down to it. She had done awful things. She killed her parents, ignored Hope’s pleas to be released…Hells, had it not been because of her companions’ opinions on the matter, she had almost sided with the Absolute and killed the entirety of the Druids Grove back then.
She was not a good person. She never had been. She had seen it as practicality. She had to kill her father, or it would never stop. She had to leave Hope behind, because it was not worth the possible risks that she had so carefully calculated in her mind. She was not practical, she was cold, and it was a survival mechanism, much like Raphael’s, that she learned the day she burned her childhood home down: Fear or be feared.
She finished pulling shards from his upper body and sat on the floor to start on his leg. Raphael noticed her quietness as she was deep in her self-loathing thoughts.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Hm?” she looked up at him briefly. “Nothing. Just concentrating.”
“You are being awfully quiet.”
“Mm. You should try it sometime,” she said and immediately bit her lip. It just flew out of her mouth, and she realized that she was getting way too comfortable and uncensored with him.
He simply laughed.
“I have told you before, but I will gladly tell you again…I much prefer you like this,” Raphael noted. “When you are not pretending to be something that you are not.”
She looked up at him with a tired look. He seemed genuine.
“Then stop forcing me to pretend,” she said and went back to pulling pieces out of his leg.
“I’ve never forced you,” Raphael said. “And yet you insist to play a game that you cannot hope to win. I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed it…However, if you keep at it, you will one day find it difficult to find where the pretending ends and where you start, little mouse.”
“So, I’m just supposed to roll over and take it?” she asked with a huff.
“If you knew what was good for you, yes,” Raphael said smoothly and looked down at her. “Though I’m rather enjoying seeing you cling to the idea that you could win.”
She rolled her eyes and continued to work in silence. He was infuriating, but at least he was being honest. She could see out of the corner of her eye that he was studying her face while she worked.
“I want to ask you something, if you would indulge me,” Raphael drawled. “Despite all your resistance, did you ever find yourself falling for it?”
Her brow furrowed and she glanced up at him for a short moment.
“Did I ever fall for you, you mean?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I hate your guts, if you should ever be confused about that,” she said coldly.
She heard a short chuckle from him.
“Hate does not necessarily exclude love and you avoided answering my question,” Raphael pointed out. “Which is an answer in itself, is it not?”
“I would be more careful with what I say if I was in your position right now,” she said through gritted teeth while trying to pry a large piece of glass out of his leg. “My hand might just slip with the with the next piece I’m pulling out.”
Raphael winced slightly as the piece was pulled out.
“And you?”
“What about me?” he asked.
“Did you ever fall for me?” she asked, still focused on his leg.
He was quiet for just a short moment too long.
“I have told you before,” he purred. “Love is no more than a pointless distraction, and one that I cannot afford with who I am.”
She looked up at him while dabbing water on his leg.
“I can’t help but notice you didn’t say yes or no,” she said and then mimicked his voice and repeated his words: “’Which is an answer in itself, is it not?’”
“Careful, Tav,” Raphael warned with a smile. “You would be wise not to mistake my leniency with you for weakness.”
She had mostly just said it to be annoying, so she was surprised when he did not argue with her point. It was a part of his game, she had concluded, nothing more.
Once she was done with his leg, she poured the remainder of the water from the restoration pool over it, and it healed quickly. She got to her feet and used her hand to gently feel up and down his side.
“Any pain?” she asked. “Did I miss any pieces?”
Raphael shook his head.
“You can stop fussing, dear,” he said with a smile.
“I’m not fussing,” she said stubbornly. “I’m just not sure anyone would know how to get me out of this hellhole if you should suddenly decide to die.”
“If you say so,” Raphael said.
Tav recalled that they had almost the exact same conversation back when he almost killed her in his sleep, and he took care of her to make sure she survived.
“Well…” she said with a sigh. “If that’s all, I’ll go back to bed.”
Raphael got up slowly from the chair. It was clear that he was still slightly dizzy from the blood-loss, but other than that, he looked a lot better than when he arrived home.
She gave him a kiss on the cheek to signal that the truce was over. He wrapped his arm around her waist.
“Goodnight,” she said, looking up at him with one of her fake smiles.
“Goodnight, dearest,” he said quietly with an amused smile that showed he knew what she was doing. He placed a kiss on her forehead.
She was laying on her sofa, slightly drunk on wine, as the same pieces of conversation kept playing in her mind. She felt so trapped. She missed him, but if she admitted that to herself, all she would feel was self-loathing.
He had kidnapped her, trapped her in the Hells, fucked with her mind at every given opportunity. He still was, even now that she was free. It was easier to hate him, as she should, and she truly did, despite all her confusing feelings. She heard his voice in her head:
‘Hate does not necessarily exclude love…’
“Shut up…” she mumbled to herself and closed her eyes.
‘Love is no more than a pointless distraction, and one that I cannot afford with who I am.’
‘I do not wish for you to be under my roof anymore. You have been a distraction for too long.’
“Shut up, shut up,” she mumbled, and she felt tears starting to form in her eyes again. “Shut up.”
Her brain sent her back to the conversation the two of them had one evening about love. It was when Raphael revealed that he had once made the ‘mistake’ of falling in love.
‘I thought devils didn’t—' she had said.
‘They don’t,’ he had interrupted her and smiled. ‘Not in any way you would understand at least. Our definition of love is quite different from what you mortals would find ideal or even healthy.’
“I don’t care,” she mumbled tearfully to her own brain who was torturing her.
‘She was a mortal woman. A human…like yourself.’
She mournfully remembered how the wording of that statement had given her butterflies in her stomach, and then emptied her glass of wine with shaking hands.
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my au my rules. this au is literally called Chucker Spiderverse AU in the archived discord thread so be warned oooOoOOoooOo . gay men OoooooOo
writing out the backstory that me and my friend Donut have been working on for the better part of a year, most of it was inspired by the new itsv movie that was released then. and because I don't plan on writing anything huge for this I'd like my brainstorming to have a wider audience.
All art posted is most likely @franklindonuts , aka Donut the cocreator of this shit,,,hey buddy😆 go show him some love pleeeease
you can see my art of this au here
this will 100% be somewhat incomprehensive but hey I'm just a fag having fun and I was born yesterday🧚♀️
**
Tucker is the spiderman in his universe with Church as his "guy in the chair". (Putting it out there that this Church is Alpha, which is significant later on.)
They both share an apartment, I don't think I ever specified why but probably for school reasons. They're both young adults, I want to say around 19-21, similar to their Blood Gulch years.
Tucker loves being spiderman. He loves helping people, being almost an idol for people- a lot of jokes were thrown around about that:
Imagine Tucker after he got his sword. He has a genuine purpose now and he's going to be good at it.
but goddd Tucker is Tucker and is stupid and reckless. being spiderman doesn't make him invincible but he loves to think otherwise. he pushes himself too far too often because he knows if he doesn't he wouldn't be able to sleep at night if someone got hurt when he was taking it "easy". Church knows this but he's still pissed off when Tucker comes back bloodied and bruised from a Villain of the Week that he shouldn't have taken on :/
(Donut art)
mental illness
It's literally just the Spiderman Effect. No one will Ever be able to understand what it's like to be spiderman but other spiders, regardless of how much you tell them or show them, they won't get it. and Church doesn't Get it. He's not stupid, he understands WiTh GrEaT PoWeR y'know but there's a mental toll that can't be communicated in a way that makes sense :/
regardless, Church hates it but he also hates how much he cares about Tucker. Cocreator said that he figured they were both close and willing to become A Thing but the time was never right, and Tucker was scared of liking a dude, etc. Normal stuff between these two. But they're insanely close, I'd like to think even moreso after Tucker's whole spiderman thing and the fact that Church also has to realize that Tucker is not invincible.
(despite them not being A Thing, Donut art of The Spiderman kiss and other gay shit)
Now this is the kicker of why I said to take note of the fact this is Alpha Church specifically.
Now I'm aware of the clowning on the whole "canon event" thing and some people's opinion on it (mostly that it's dumb and cliche), but I find it a very unique and convenient way to give a character a significant plot boost.
That being said, Tucker's "canon event" is Church's death.
I don't ever think I solidified how/why he dies, moreso that it's just a wrong-place wrong-time type of thing. Some brainstorming from Donut about it:
but i never asked him for elaboration so I don't know what the fuck he's talking about. anyway
Tucker finds Church similar to how Miles found Peter in the first Spiderverse movie. He doesn't know what to do. He's frantic and scared and horrified that his best friend is coughing up blood with raspy breaths.
(Alpha s10 parallel with tex lalalala)
Obviously. Obbbviousllyy Tucker is distraught and inconsolable. Something something he has the Worst depression of his life. He doesn't know what to do with himself, the one person who knew about everything is gone, and I'm sorry (not) lol but it's not like in rvb where Church revives 8 times before dying like a normal person.
Church was always there for Tucker and he's at a loss of what to do now because, despite the threat of it, he should've never died. It wasn't even a concern in his head ever because it seemed so unlikely.
Tucker doesn't know what to do with himself, he wouldn't have gotten this far without Church. But really, it was All Tucker. All Church did was give him little tech bits to help him function better but it was All Tucker. But he isn't able to realize that through everything and it ruins him.
I will have to make a continuation post because I love adding images and Just hit the mobile limit🧚♀️
thanks for reading if you got this far
#spiderverse au#chucker spiderverse au#au#rvb#red vs blue#leonard church#lavernius tucker#chucker#oomf art#talks#text
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Idk if this is weird to ask but can you tell more about your situationship?😭 I’m curious since it inspired the story idkkk
nooo not weird at all haha, i had plans to share more ab it once i was done w kickoff but i dont really mind sharing a bit now (will literally always take up any chance to talk ab it it’s an impulse i cannot resist)
basically i met this guy like halfway through my freshman year of college at a frat event, it was a bit different from kickoff dynamic in that we started hooking up pretty soon after that, just a casual thing, but then the pandemic hit and so he went back home to live w his grandpa/family in new york (i live in cali) once campus shut down and stuff. obviously we couldn’t hook up anymore LMFAO but we still talked a lot and i think it was during this time of just talking to one another that i really started to catch massive feelings for him :”)
i went through some bad anxiety during covid, struggling a lot w my career and if i still wanted to pursue the things i thought i wanted (i think a lot of college students went through this w the pandooski) but he would always be there for me and would stay on facetime calls w me if i was struggling to study, he’d cheer me up w pics of his tibetan dogs lol, just reallyyy sweet ugh when we were long distance i rly saw a side of him i didn’t before and i think that’s what made me fall for him
i confessed to him first, similar to reader in kickoff, n told him we could do long distance until he moved back here. but then he hit me with the “i’m sorry, i can’t date you, i’ve got commitment issues”. in his case, he had a long-term girlfriend in high school for four years who he also was dating into college (before he met me), but he found out she had been cheating on him for a long time w not just one but multiple of his friends 😭 so..he said he has really bad trust issues, and that he really wanted to try to date me, but he just felt like he couldn’t
i was really hurt, obviously, but i think in hindsight maybe it was a responsible decision on his part to not throw me into a mess of a relationship w him, one he knew he wasn’t ready for. but at the time, i just thought that it was bc i wasn’t good enough to change his mind. anyways, he asked if we could still talk and be friends, and i said sure bc i didn’t really want to lose him. i figured i could just wait for him (and i told him that i would)
yeahhh well the waiting was way more fucking painful than i thought. he flew to cali once to visit me when flights were sort of resuming, which is just fucking insane because you’ll fly to see me but you won’t date me 😭, and i told him that it’d be the last time he ever sees me! and it was :”) maybe it was an impulsive decision by me, but idk. yknow when you get stuck in a limbo for what feels like forever that you make a decision just for the sake of making one (it was such a short amt of time in reality, but it felt like forever) he made a comment to me in our last conversation about how he really wished he didn’t have to be someone i had to wait on to change, and that really fuckin stuck w me lmao i cried so hard the drive home from the airport. i think all the “what-ifs” kinda sunk in at that moment
ch7 of kickoff was basically me trying to get inside the head of the guy from my situationship, and see what it’s like to have fears hold you back from wanting to experience something for yourself, something that could be beautiful if you would just give it a chance. i felt like if i wrote it from that angle, i’d have more understanding of my situationship (i dont have commitment issues myself, tbh i’ve never rlly understood the concept. like, i’ve been fucked over by ppl in my life too but i’m never one to punish the next person for it. dealing w my situationship was really hard because of this, i would get really frustrated, but writing ch7 from gojo’s character’s perspective made situationship guy’s feelings make more sense to me, i think, there was a sense of closure in that)
but anyways, i was in love w him for sure. like, possibly infatuated. there was a time where we got into a big argument about something and i think i legit i cried myself into a fever 💀 it was all so crazy and powerful, the feelings, i’ve been involved w n dated other guys since but of course none of it really compares. idk, i guess there are just some people that can make you feel that way, there’s really no use in understanding why.
this sounds so sappy, lmaoo i swear i truly am “over” him in that i hardly think of him that much anymore, n tbh i don’t think of him specifically all that much while i’m writing kickoff, but there are moments where i can’t help but bring those feelings into the story.
there’s a line in ch8, near the end of the bed scene, where reader has a thought like
“You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to.”
yeah. that’s basically how i felt about him.
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How did you come to draw and paint the way you do? What inspirations do you pull from? All of your art oozes with some strange, almost ethereal emotion I've not quite seen anywhere else, something similar to what I'd like to capture with my own works.
I’ve always had a bit of a hard time answering this bc like…I honestly think aesthetic/inspirational/taste stuff is a library you build up over your whole life, or maybe a closet that you try things on to see what does and doesn’t work for you. My biggest advice to this kinda stuff is to experiment a lot and take in a lot of media in a purposeful way, and try to actively apply things you like about said medias to your work. And don’t just consume stuff within your field, I take inspiration from a ton of stuff that isn’t art. I also recommend having somewhere to keep a kind of reserve of inspo, wether it be on tumblr or Pinterest or what have you.
So with that being said I’ll try to sum up what I can about myself.
I’m a horror lover, have been since I was (too) young. I’ve consumed a ton of horror movies, read a lot of books, and certainly have digested a lot of art about it. I am a bit of a haunted person haha, and I’ve always really attached myself to horror, and with some exception to just purely cute stuff I truly am always thinking about it with my work. I am not really aiming to make people feel comfortable with my stuff, in fact often the opposite, but many feel understood anyways which feels nice. I don’t think horror for horrors sake is always as fufilling to me, it always pulls from something internal that I’ve been wrestling with or are afraid of myself.
I am classically trained in fine art due to the kind of art program my highschool had (magnet program if that means anything to anyone), it was incredibly good and I always feel so lucky I got to go there. Bc of this I learned a lot of techniques in painting as well as the fundamental of art. I don’t think my art would be the way it is without this training, but I also think with how the internet is now you can probably do the same thing at your own pace, just have to be dedicating a decent amount of time and mental energy into it.
Bc of my highschool training I also learned about art history, which had a big impact on me, particularly renaissance, baroque, and rococo. Religious imagery as well had a huge impact on me, particularly catholic (probs cause we learned about it it the most). I would say doing master studies with these would be a huge help.
I would say it’s important to me that each “full” illustration tells a story of sorts, I can’t really help it, I’m a story teller at heart. I use a lot of symbolic imagery, I pull a lot from religious imagery but also within fruit, flowers, personal objects… I think “what am I trying to say with this work” and kind of go from there with what I choose. Make your own personal symbolism language.
There’s like this certainty digital painting aesthetic I really enjoy by niche furry artist lol, many of them really nsfw so I don’t feel comfortable linking to them. It’s like…highly detailed well rendered pieces that they make with literally one brush that is often without any kind of pen pressure, just layering things with opacity. It’s crazy and yeah idk they’re definitely up there in inspo for me.
I really really care about fashion. Lolita was my first love in terms of clothing, and I pull a ton of inspiration from it, but also a lot of other street styles and runways stuff. I like drama and frills.
I play with my art and stories in a way that I don’t know how to describe other than childlike. It’s important for me to do so in my process, but basically, I let my imagination run wild, I talk to my characters, I listen to music and think about them. A lot of my bigger pieces take a lot of time of me thinking about them ahead a time, I draw in my head a lot. Sketchbooks are a huge help in this.
I thiiiiiink that’s all I have to say for now…I could probably list a million things but this feels like a good core to start with. I hope it’s not too vague, but I’m always good to keep answering stuff like this if you wanna know about one part in depth.
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it’s 5 in the morning as I post this but it’s better early than never ABAHAJJHH
I could literally write for ages but I literally wouldn’t be here rn if it wasn’t for this show it changed my life for the better. For the past year or so of me being into it a lot of bad events happened in my life and suffering through major depressive episodes, I’ve gotten through it like “the monkey team wouldn’t want me to be like this” and stuff like that. I guess it was just motivational for me but it genuinely got me through life. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a strong special interest in ANYTHING before, let alone for this amount of time. It also got me interested in real life primates in general, and also formed one of the career path possibilities of me volunteering at a primate conservation place someday. I know I haven’t been in the fandom for long but I’m glad to have met the friends that I have here and I’m so grateful for being here since it’s been really fun so far. I always get so embarrassed talking about my interests in real life but this for me is different I think, I’m passionate about telling all the lore in detail and I think it helped me open up more as a person. Plus it changed my artstyle for the better at drawing animals LOL. I know that’s a lot but I thought I would share my experiences as an autistic girl and having a special interest to this show. It’s all I can think about when I’m happy or when I’m upset and need to feel better. All I’m really trying to say is, Happy 20th anniversary guys!!! I hope you guys are just as happy and excited as I am <3
I really wanted to draw some renaissance inspired religious imagery lately and I thought “hey, why don’t I draw the monkey team as this? It’s two things I’m interested in and it would make history in general easier to get interested in for me personally.” Despite me not being the most religious person ever it was really fun to study the art during this time when working on this. And honestly, I started drawing this on Monday and just working my ass off to get it done today since I didn’t think I would in time. Enough of my yapping. THIS SHOW HAS BEEN OUT LONGER THAN I HAVE BEEN ALIVE WOOHOO! Starts running up and down the walls. Also this literally took me like 14 hours so notes of any sorts appreciated. 🫶 sorry my reach is kinda bad LOL
#srmthfg#super robot monkey team hyperforce go#fanart#srmthfg fanart#nixie draws srmthfg#religious imagery#religious imagery art#srmthg#Antauri#nova#sprx 77#gibson#otto#chiro#srmthfg 20th anniversary#20th anniversary#anniversary art#srmthfg antauri#srmthfg nova#srmthfg sprx 77#srmthfg gibson#srmthfg otto#srmthfg chiro#srmthg fanart
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Morning! Watching Jimin embrace and feel safe/protected/confident to live his truth over the past couple of years; but now seeing his military pics that come from other Soldiers, and his sad (subjective) face, do you think it will take long for him to decompress in June and find his light again? I wonder if this serving time doesn’t take a piece of their souls. SJ seems to be fine from outward appearances, but we may never know internal turmoil. Also (and sheesh this is a huge non sequitur, but I’m here, in the asking place LOL), in the Suchwita episodes, the members expressed how they couldn’t wait to be together in 2025, except RM. He was a bit vague and non-commital. Did you interpret it that way? Thoughts Thanks.
Hey anon,
Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
I think it's true that Jimin's face in the pic could be interpreted as sad, but not necessarily. We know Jimin has always been very responsible so he could be "in military mode" and decided to make a more serious face, it doesn't mean he feels sad.
But anyone would feel uncomfortable with constraints such as military. I don't think - any of the members - are really having a good time either.
I think Jimin like everything he does will do his maximum to fulfill his duties. But yeah it doesn't mean he must happy about it lol
The positive thing is that he is now with Jungkook, his anchor, so while he may not be having the time of his life he still has support with him that in my opinion will help him keep his sanity.
I think unlike Jin both Jimin&Jungkook will disappear for a while when they are discharged. Idk how long, but a while.
They need to get back to their lives, to their selves as they want to show it to the world, also to their relationship. It will be a lot.
But I think they both will bounce back, after some time-off when they return.
I can even imagine them doing another are you sure trip, possibly. Not right away, but some time after. I think they loved the first season so far.
As for Namjoon, since a long time, the running "gag" in my GC is "Can someone check on Namjoon?" God this man is not doing well. It started a long time before military.
I think he had a sort of identity crisis, a creativity crisis? You know how much Namjoon thinks A LOT.
I think Namjoon got burned out by BTS.
So maybe before military he really couldn't tell how this would go after they return.
Of course they will all be back together, because they said so, because they WANT TO WANT TO. But the truth is, for how long?
Military can surely change a person. Some of the members will go through it better than others. Maybe some will gain inspiration from it. When you are away from your craft for a long time, you tend to miss it, the spark might come back (that's what I hope for Namjoon)
But truth is they might get back together for a while but then maybe several of them will want to do other stuff, separately or simultaneously. No way to know for now.
I think the opinions they had before about reuniting, could certainly change with military.
They will do it - because they have a duty to us.
But maybe their hearts will want other things too.
(And that's also good?)
I hope people will be here to support their choices even if new.
Ahhh I wish for the best. Fingers crossed.
Thx for sharing your thoughts on this.
I think worry is valid - and should be discussed.
Take care 💜
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Some art-advice asks I've been meaning to reply to!
I use Clip Studio Paint Pro, though I'm not sure what tips I could give just in general. Just experiment with new things often, draw as much as your lifestyle allows, watch how other people do their work but try to avoid "Dont do THIS thing ever" type lessons and tutorials. Use as much reference as you'd like and take your time! To this day a simple sketch can still take me several hours to do depending on what it is.
Thank you so much!!! I didn't do any kind of formal art schooling but I've always been inclined towards arts and crafts, and started taking drawing semi seriously when I was about 17 (I'm 27 now). I draw a lot of inspiration from western comics and my favorite artists are jason shawn alexander and sean murphy.
Oh I'm so flattered to hear my stuff's inspired you to take up drawing again, I have a bunch of little crafty hobbies but art is by far the most fulfilling one to me - largely because you're constantly learning and improving.
You're definitely onto something already, I am constantly looking at other people's art (even If it isn't a style I would want to emulate) and analyzing how the pieces come together to create the final product. In my opinion this is pretty much the best way you can go about learning besides real-life reference drawing. You can even take something into your software of choice/print it out and trace it (just to yourself, of course) to get a sense of hand-motion and line use.
As a beginner I think there's no shame at all in taking heavy inspiration from your favorite artists, as long as you aren't straight up copying things and calling them your own. Your personal style Is likely to come out naturally, with time. That's very much how I started myself!
Also, just be patient with yourself, try to have realistic goals for your skill level while simultaneously being proud of everything you do. Even if you absolutely despise a drawing, you still drew something! And even if it doesn't feel that way you most definitely learned from it. Use learning tools and tutorials to whatever point you feel comfortable with but don't get stuck on people's arbitrary rules - unless we're talking about something tangible like real-life application of traditional art tools, things like anatomy, perspective and light are to be referenced from - but It's not the goal to emulate them 100% unless you ARE going for hyperrealism. As someone who uses a ton of reference these days, I can tell you first-hand that I often find myself straying from it on purpose to make a piece look more interesting.
Lastly, draw things you enjoy! Don't let anyone else dictate what you SHOULD be doing and don't fall into the trappings of wanting to stick to one specific style, process, or subject matter.
Good luck!!!
LOL thank you so much for your very evocative compliments! I haven't ever done a timelapse, not that I remember at least. I'm not sure how they work but I do so much of "I'm gonna try this thing 5 different ways and then decide what I like" that I'm not sure how comprehensive that would be LOL
I could put together a process showcase or something though, I feel like that might be better even, since I get to explain a little of what I'm doing through text and display how I use reference. Something to consider!
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I have two minds to answer this, because part of me is going 'WE GOT EM!!! WE GOT EM!!' While the other part of me is like 'oh god how do I tell them. Who’s going to tell them.' The easiest way I can explain: Tom, Ben, and Harry are not in a minecraft series together, and the lore that I have for them is not based in any actual series. HOWEVER. DON’T LET THE TRAGIC TRUTH MAKE YOU CLICK AWAY /silly so I can explain properly LMAO
Here’s a TLDR for anyone who likes these guys and is a lil interested in them!!
Most of the lore for these three is based on an amalgamation of inside jokes, non-minecraft character trends, and general yogs minecraft world lore!
Tom was an editor (now has a YouTube channel, AngoryTom) and did behind-the-scenes minecraft prep for the Yogscast for so long that he was never really interested in any actual "main channel" series besides [Dig Site - 10 episodes] with Simon, Lewis, and Ben, and [Skyblock - 2 episodes] with Ben! Although he’s also played several npcs throughout various main channel series since he was helping run the show lol. My take on his character is that he’s a former yoglabs employee due to [YOGLABS CLASSIFIED INFORMATION] and now lives his laziest life ever in an undisclosed remote location. He’s also the demigod of death but he’ll never tell
Ben started doing main series mc content a few years ago, but hasn’t done anything mc with Tom and Harry until recently (see below)! His character is a Shark Hybrid due to [YOGLABS CLASSIFIED INFORMATION] who now lives with Tom at the same undisclosed remote location.
Harry has been an insane speedrunning minecraft legend for ages, but was never in any main series content bc he’s actually a graphic designer for the yogs. But he was part of Iskall’s twitch vault hunter event back in November, and he’s now in the [Vault Hunter Series - Ongoing] with Ben and Duncan on YouTube! <3 so there’s plenty of mc content of Harry and Ben, but not so much Tom. c!Harry has lived remote for as long as he can remember, locked in Hardcore, until…?
But again, I base their backstories on a bunch of kinda loosely connected lore dots that are half based on jokes <3
Below the read more includes: links to clips, compilations, and very brief lore explanations (though you can check my other lore drawings in Tom’s tag (#Angory Tom), Ben’s tag (#bedgar), Harry’s tag (#brryhrry) or posts that have any of them, which should be under the (#the outcast trio) tag)!
BEN AND TOM
I’ve been in love with Ben and Tom as a duo forever, since the TTT (modded Trouble in Terrorist Town) days, where Ben’s player model was Left Shark, and Tom’s model was Emperor Palpatine (yes from Star Wars. I can’t stand them). But Ben and Tom have been yogs editors and Behind The Scenes guys forever, so it wasn’t until more recently that they became known personalities in the main yogscast circle (4-5 years is pretty recent in the 10+ years of yogs content timeline LMAO).
Through Warhammer streams and behind the scenes stuff, I kinda fell in love with their chemistry and idiocy, and they worked so well with the “main cast” that I just had to put them in the yogs minecraft universe, somewhere. Turns out, Tom had actually done a majority of the "behind the scenes" work for the Yoglabs series (he built a majority of the main building, did mod research and testing, was present during recordings to make sure things went well, stuff like that) so it only made sense to have his character be the Right Hand Man/ Behind The Scenes Assistant to Xephos (Lewis), the Morally Questionable Head of Yoglabs.
For anyone who’s unfamiliar with Yoglabs, it’s one of the yogs’ more famous series featuring Simon (Honeydew) and Lewis (Xephos) where they tested mods! more info can be found here!
c!Tom also ended up as a Lumian (the fanon alien space species for the yogs fandom, vaguely inspired by Star Trek Vulcans) because of a one-off joke where one of the Yogs artists drew him as a star trek commander, and I really didn’t need any further reason to make him a weird little guy LDKFJG
As far as the “demigod of death” thing goes, it felt right to give him a lore thing that vaguely coordinated with the whole “Emporer Palpatine” vibe, since that’s kinda the mc skin he’s used most recently. There’s another reason there that I don’t think I’ve properly explained, so I’ll leave the rest of that be for now ;]
Ben, on the other hand, plays a shark character in pretty much every video game he ever participates in, so shark hybrid was a pretty obvious way to go. And of course, since the duo had to be in the same place… involving Ben’s shark Hybrid-ness with yoglabs experimentation made good sense and good angst. What can I say :]
Here are the bigger lore posts I’ve made so far (in the order i posted them i believe!), explaining in a little more detail plus art to go with! :] [x] [x] [x]
HARRY
Harry is kinda known as the yogscast’s token memelord? But in the ironic way. He somehow makes it genuinely hilarious idk man. His humor is very dry, witty, and sarcastic, but he’s a sweetheart and kind of a god at minecraft. I’ve been arguing since day one that this man should be in mcc but we won’t go there
There aren't many solo harry compilations, so here's a link to a Harry and Ben compilation hehe
Regarding his minecraft lore, pretty much all of it is based around the idea that he’s a god at speedrunning and hardcore Minecraft. A common consensus in yogscast minecraft lore is that respawning is actually a Yoglabs-based mechanic tied to clones and clone making. I thought it would be interesting if Harry could be tied to a hardcore element in the yogs lore purely by having Somehow slid under yoglabs’ radar. And since he was never in any main channel (aka modded) series, i usually associate him with Vanilla mechanics, and since i also view mods as a Yoglabs-related lore element, it made sense! So basically— no clones, no respawns, no mods!
except that he’s in a main channel series now. So I’ll need to find a new lore reason around that DTBJDFGHK
And his design, well… this man’s skin is straight up Mr Mime, and there’s only so much I can do with that /silly But he’s a HUGE Pokémon fan! He’s played a couple of Disaster Nuzlockes with Lydia from the yogs a year or so ago, if that’s something you’re interested in! Was a huge comfort series for me for the longest time and rly good background noise, theyre soooo good at Pokémon I promise <3
Harry does more twitch stuff (hrry on twitch) than youtube stuff, so twitch is the best place to check him out if you're interested in his solo content!
Last thing I'll say about him is that he designed and ran an original minecraft minigame called "Capture the Wool" and he and Martyn are the hosts for a few episodes i think! i dont think there's any way to explain how entertaining it is to listen to him announce the chaos of yogs members trying to play competitive minecraft LOL
Um, so. TLDR…2, These guys are basically my ocs and now I get Actual minecraft content from them which is crazy. I love them as content creators and cool guys so so much though, so! Definitely recommend listening to these idiots (affectionate) babble and ramble to each other, mc or not <3
#yogscast#bedgar#angory tom#BrryHrry#hrry#ben#tom#the outcast trio#art escapades#sorry that's so long but my love for them is showing hehe#i haven't completed decided if i want the “the outcast trio” tag to be for posts with ANY of them or just ALL of them so --#if you have a preference feel free to lmk <3#also feel free to lmk if you check them out :3 they are everything to the me!
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𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞
Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader
Word count: 4K
Summary: After doing Vogue's “Life in Looks” and reminiscing on your life with Elvis and Caroline, your late husband makes sure you and your daughter know he's still around.
Warning(s): life after losing a spouse, lil bit angsty, inaccurate timelines etc, doesn't follow timelines of other fics including Caroline, set in the late 90s bc i felt like it (just pretend life in looks is on tv or smth lol), reminiscing about a deceased spouse, flashback, bit of spiritual stuff (i still wanted him to be in this lol ☻), Elvis' death is not described here or whatsoever.
A/N: so, i usually never write about elvis not being among us anymore but ofc... i got carried away. the ending is kinda silly, but i thought it was cute. this was requested by my dear @rosepresley and even though it turned out a little different, i hope you'll still enjoy it, love! <3
masterlist
While your husband was known to the world as The King and many other titles, to you he was just Elvis.
Even though the anniversary of his death ticked on twenty years now and you had given the loss a place, there wasn’t a day that you didn’t think about him or didn’t miss him.
Caroline was only nine when her father passed and even though nobody would ever forget him, you and your now twenty nine year old daughter worked hard to keep his legacy alive.
While still living at Graceland, which felt a lot emptier without your husband there, you’d make sure events would be held on the property which fans could be a part of – the Christmas lights ceremony during the holidays, sometimes even small concerts held for charities right in your front yard. At times, fans would still linger outside the gates–mostly on the day he had passed or during his birthday week–and you could spend hours out there talking to them.
While you weren’t always happy with the lack of privacy when being out with Elvis or having fans outside your house in the dead of the night, you felt like you owed the attention to them now. You were aware that you didn’t, but these were the people that loved when you talked about the man they looked up to – probably more than anyone.
Aside from that, you were still being asked for interviews and press as well. You loved talking about Elvis and your life with him, but you were still careful as to who exactly you told those stories to – you had declined enough interviews and TV specials in the past, as did Caroline, because you were both aware how the media could twist your words and make up their own story which they knew would sell better.
When Vogue asked you for their ‘Life in Looks’ series, you were doubtful at first. This meant you’d have to talk more so about yourself rather than Elvis, but Caroline reminded you how much you loved fashion and Vogue in particular. You had a trusty subscription of the magazine, getting most of your inspiration from it when it came to your sense of style. Your daughter always assured you that it would be okay for you to talk about yourself rather than about Daddy only and you knew she was right.
Despite your entire life having revolved, and still revolving, around Elvis, you were still your own person.
He would want you to do this, especially since he made big fashion statements himself back in the day and he loved dressing you up and picking out your outfits for you.
“Just pretend we’re not here, mrs. Presley. Take all the time you need,” one of the editors smiled at you as she stood besides the camera, another girl with a Vogue lanyard around her neck placing a big white photobook in front of you. “We’ve included fifteen looks for the day but we have more pictures at hand, so if you don’t feel comfortable telling about some, we can change them up a little,”
You smiled brightly, nodding your head as you let one of the stylists fix a lock of your hair, making sure it laid perfectly over your shoulder. You knew what to do because you weren’t foreign to the concept and had seen other people doing it, but you couldn’t help but be a little nervous.
Caroline stood on the side, putting her thumbs up as she smiled brightly – ever the supportive daughter.
You chuckled softly and shot her a wink, crossing your legs under the table you were sat at as you looked at the camera. As you got the cue they were rolling, you planted a bright smile on your face, manicured nails tracing the corners of the book in front of you.
“Hi Vogue, I’m Y/N Presley and this is my Life in Looks,” you told the camera happily, although making sure not to overdo your enthusiasm.
You continued on as you were told to do, knowing that they could cut and edit the taping it was meant to be shown to the public.
You opened the book, your smile growing a little as the first picture was of you being taken out on your first date with Elvis – he wasn’t shown in the picture, because this was mostly about you and the outfit you were wearing in the picture.
“The hair,” you pointed out, laughing softly as you tapped your nail against your very extravagant hairdo. It was all high and teased, and very out there. “This was in 1960, during our first date at the fair. He rented out the place like he usually did and I remember the air being so humid, even at night, I was not having a good time with this much hair,” you chuckled, remembering how you’d complain to Elvis how you wished you would’ve kept your hair down.
He assured you you looked gorgeous, even with the sheen of sweat on your forehead. You had known Elvis since before he served in the army, so you weren’t ashamed when he pointed it out. Before he became the love of your life, he was your best friend first.
“This little dress came out of my very own closet. I don’t even think it was a brand, but I was obsessed,” you giggled, looking at the camera. Sneakily catching Caroline’s eye, a smirk tugged at your lips. “She doesn’t like me saying this, but Caroline wore this dress on the first date she went on,” you whispered and your daughter gasped soundlessly, muffling a chuckle in the palm of her hand.
You smiled happily as you turned the page, talking the viewers through a few more pictures that were taken of you at the airport and so on, reminiscing happily about the day it was taken and about what you were wearing. Even though this interview was specifically cathered to you, you still talked about Elvis during pretty much every picture but you didn’t care – and neither did the crew.
This man had been your entire life. The only man you had ever been with. How could you not talk about him?
Your heart skipped a beat as you turned the page and looked right at a wedding picture of you and Elvis.
“Oh, this was such a big day for us. Our wedding day,” you smiled lovingly at the camera before looking back down, your finger tracing Elvis’ face in the picture. The camera above your head made sure to catch it. “Charlie Hodge, who as you all might know worked for Elvis, went with me to go dress shopping because people would recognize me going into stores and then they’d find out there would be a wedding,” you laughed softly, looking at the camera as you placed your hands neatly on the table underneath the book. “I put on a little disguise and me and Charlie pretended to be the ones getting married – nobody recognized us,”
Caroline’s cheeks were aching with how big she was smiling, her hands clutched firmly against her chest. She always loved hearing you talk about your life with her father before the time she was born and she could see how much you were enjoying it.
“I picked this dress because it was very lightweight and feminine, and it matched perfectly with Elvis’ suit,” you looked at the picture again, smiling fondly at the smiling face of your husband in the picture before turning the page once more.
After talking about your honeymoon for a little bit, Caroline knew what was coming and she giggled softly as she watched you pout at the camera, tapping the picture of you and Elvis while holding little baby Caroline in your arms. It was taken only a few hours after you had given birth, but dressed in a pink dress and your hair teased to perfection, it looked far from a woman who had nearly broke her husband’s hand hours before.
“Look at that face, that’s a happy dad,” you grinned as you pointed out Elvis’ face, who was smiling cutely as he looked at Caroline in your arms while you sat on the bed. “He couldn’t believe he had a child and you can clearly see that on his face. I think a lot of men are like this, but he was afraid to hold her – terrified. I was never allowed to leave his side when she’d be in his arms because he was so scared that he’d drop her,” you laughed, the memories flashing before your eyes.
“El, you won’t hurt her, I promise you,” you laughed as you sat on your knees on the bed, baby Caroline sleeping safe and sound in your arms, Elvis propped up against the headboard of the bed.
He was in his underwear, wanting to try the method of holding his baby girl against his bare chest because he read in one of your parenting books that it’d help to steady the bond between child and father.
You had forgotten about the books long ago, because as soon as you held Caroline in your arms for the first time, motherhood came natural to you. Elvis would read them every night in bed, because he wanted to make sure to become the picture perfect father.
You didn’t give him time to back out of it, moving closer to him on your knees in a slow pace as you handed Caroline to him, making sure to put her in a supported position. He placed a gentle hand under her head, his other on her tiny back as she laid comfortably in his arms, pressed against his chest.
The room was just the right temperature but you could see that the baby who was only wearing a diaper immediately enjoyed the warmth radiating off Elvis’ chest when their skins touched. She bawled her tiny hands into fists before sprawling her little fingers, her eyes slowly fluttering open.
“Stay with me, honey,” he told you with a soft hint of panic on his tongue, making sure you wouldn’t leave his side as he held Caroline.
You laughed softly and nodded, sinking further in the mattress as you mimicked his position and sat next to him. You smiled down at your daughter as her eyes found Elvis’, a goofy smile spreading across her face.
“She likes this,” you told him, gently leaning your head against his upper arm, your fingertips ghosting over Caroline’s forehead. “I think the rhythm of your heart calms her down,” you pointed out in a whisper, you and Elvis watching as the little girl in his arms stared up at her father, her tiny chest heaving up and down slowly.
“She’s so pretty,” he whispered lowly, afraid the vibrations of his voice if he spoke any louder would scare his daughter. Moving his arm a little lower so she rested on just one arm, he brought his other hand to her face, feather light fingertip trailing down her nose. “Your nose,”
You chuckled softly at the way Caroline’s smile widened because of his touches, her toothless gums on full display. Elvis laughed softly, turning to press a kiss on the top of your head.
“Can you believe we made… this?”
“Hmmhmm. Because she has your mouth,” you laughed softly, kissing his shoulder. “I bet she’ll be just as stubborn as you,”
He feigned a gasp, shoulders shaking a little as he laughed – he was about to comment that she’d definitely get the stubborness from you, but as Caroline giggled right along with the two of you, all he could do was stare at her with fond eyes.
Slowly but surely, Elvis allowed you to do your own thing whenever he’d hold her. His favorite spot was always in the bed, because that way he was absolutely sure nothing could happen to her.
Nothing ever did happen to her whenever he was holding her though, whenever in or out the bed, and to you he was a damn good father.
A natural, like you – but he never believed those words no matter how many times you’d tell him.
Caroline watched you proudly the entire time, talking about your life with her and her father, and how your own sense of style had changed throughout the years. Although Elvis loved picking out things for you to wear, you developed a big interest in fashion and design as you got older and he loved whenever you’d wear something that you designed yourself.
Your style was similar to his – the two of you always matched perfectly, looking sophisticated but still out there, turning heads. The two of you were always comfortable around each other, but not so comfortable it would turn sloppy.
There were never days where you would be lounging around the house in pajamas for an entire day. Elvis loved to dress up on any occasion, even when not leaving the house, and so did you.
On Christmas and New Year’s Eve, you’d both go all out, putting on your best fits because that’s when you felt most confident. And to the both of you, that was one of the best feelings in the world.
There weren’t much pictures of you and Elvis with Caroline when she was young because that’s something both you and your husband wanted to keep private. You did allow the crew to put a picture of Caroline’s 6th birthday in the book in front of you, because it was one of your favorites – you actually had it framed on your bedside table.
“See, this is Care’s 6th birthday and even though it was only a child’s birthday party, we were dressed like we were going to the fanciest place in town,” you told the camera, laughing softly. Elvis was in all black except for the white collar that was popped up, velvet trench coat adorning his frame. You and Caroline wore matching dresses – white ruffled poet shirts underneath a hand beaded mid length shift dress, the pattern on it throwing you right back into the 70s because of the small flowers on it. “But that was just.. our style. And Elvis loved dressing up Caroline – he loved it when she matched with us, no matter what the occasion was,”
You shot a sneaky wink Caroline’s way, who was soundlessly gasping for a breath of air as she felt a lump forming in her throat. She loved talking about Elvis as much as you did and she was able to without breaking down because it had been so many years, but the love she felt for her father was unexplainable.
Untouchable.
Their bond had always been extremely strong and even after his passing, that never faded. If anything, it only heightened. As she grew older, she was able to understand him better and see him through different eyes and while Caroline realised her father wasn’t perfect, the amount of love she carried toward him would always be there and it would always be hers.
She smiled at you, blowing you a kiss which made your smile widen – you continued on like nothing happened as you spoke to the camera, hoping your voice wasn’t giving away the thickness you felt forming in your throat.
While you could honestly speak about your husband for hours, the interview had to come to an end and you were kind of glad it did. All you wanted to do now was fly back to Memphis and spend time in the home that belonged to you and your husband. You were still professional though, talking a little with the crew and thanking everyone before you left the building.
The flight from New York to Memphis was five hours, but on the private plane time flew by fast, which you were thankful for. Despite Caroline not living at Graceland anymore, she decided to stay the night because she could see how emotional today had made you.
“Do you regret doing the interview? Was it too much?” Caroline asked softly as she laid in your bed, looking at you with a soft smile when you slipped under the covers in Elvis’ spot. You hadn’t slept on your own side since the day he passed.
“No, not at all. I love Vogue and I feel honored they asked me,” you smiled as you sat against the headboard, Caroline turning on her side to plant her head in the palm of her hand. “Seeing all the pictures just brought back a lot of memories, more than I thought they would,”
Your daughter smiled, reaching out her hand to you. You slipped your hand in hers, sighing deeply.
“Good ones I hope?”
“Ofcourse. Always good ones,” you told her with a nod of your head, kissing the back of her hand before squeezing it. “Your father and I had our lows as well, but even those memories are dear to me. He really was one of a kind, Care,”
The blonde next to you crawled closer to you, sitting up against the bed as well as she released your hand and linked her arm through yours instead, putting her head on your shoulder.
“He really was,” she whispered, looking at the wedding ring that still sat prettily on your hand. “Do you think he’s watching us?”
“Knowing your father, he’s probably right here with us right now,” you laughed softly, looking at Caroline as she raised her head to look at you with wide eyes.
“What? What do you mean right now?”
The slight panic in her eyes made you laugh harder, shrugging your shoulders as you looked around the room.
“I feel him around me all the time. I’ve gotten used to the feeling of… being watched,” you grinned playfully at her and she whined at the spine-chilling tone in your voice which you used on purpose.
It was true, though. You felt his presence all the time and you had gotten used to it – even though he couldn’t answer you or talk back, you spoke to him all the time when you’d be alone in the house. Before he passed, he promised he’d always be around and you believed him.
“Nooo, you’re joking,” Caroline laughed as she threw a pillow your way, which made you giggle as you caught it and threw it back at her. “I mean I’ve dreamt about him before, but you’re totally fucking with me right now. Dad’s probably too busy stealing the show up there,” your daughter joked as she put the pillow back in place, the light on the bedside table flickering right that second.
She widened her eyes as she immediately crawled over to you, almost planting herself on your lap, which made you only laugh harder.
You were about to tell her to calm down and that she shouldn’t be scared, but a loud bang that rumbled from downstairs actually got Caroline jumping in your lap this time, her arms firmly wrapped around your neck. Now that was something you never heard before and even though you were surprised, you couldn’t stop laughing at your daughter’s actions.
“Let’s go downstairs,” you told her with a giggle as you pushed her off, getting up from the bed. Picking up your robe, you put it on as Caroline shook her head. She wanted to decline and stay in bed, but she also didn’t want to be left alone right now so as you left the room, she quickly run after you.
“Mom, what if it’s actually someone in the house? I’m not dressed to fight!” she whispered harshly as she looked at the dress shirt she stole out of Elvis’ side of your wardrobe, her hands planted firmly on your shoulders while the both of you tiptoed down the stairs.
You laughed softly, easily finding your way through the house in the dark. “No one is here, Care,” you chuckled as you flicked on some lights in the dining room, knowing that Graceland’s security system was tight and nobody was able to come in unless you allowed them to.
The both of you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary at first, until Caroline pointed out the slightly ajar door of one of the cabinets that stood against the wall. You recognized the photobook that laid on the floor, obviously having fallen out of the cabinet.
Or more so, as if someone deliberately put it there.
You walked over to it, picking it up and opening it on the first page which immediately brought a smile to your face. “This was taken on Christmas Eve, you were just one year old,” you told Caroline as you put the book on the table, sitting down. Caroline had seen it already, she had seen all family photo’s, but she loved looking at them.
Her fear faded as she sat down next to you, smiling as the two of you happily turned pages to look at the pictures of all the Christmasses spend together. It was like a warm blanket was wrapped around you and you knew Caroline felt the same, because she had completely forgotten about the light that flickered or the worries of someone breaking into the house.
You wrapped your arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple as she smiled at the picture of her and her father in the snow, along with the snowman they build together. Bright smiles and flushed cheeks – the sight of it warmed your heart.
“Your father will always be here,” you whispered to her as you softly leaned your head against hers, rubbing her arm. “He’s gonna be there with you every step along the way, no matter what you do or where you go. Don’t you ever forget it,”
She sniffed softly, nodding her head as she turned to you to hug you tightly, your hand drawing soothing circles on her back. “I know,” she sighed, laughing softly through her tears. “As long as he doesn’t make the light flicker again, I’m okay with it,”
You laughed as you pulled back a little to look at her, cupping her face to wipe her tears away with your thumbs. “He knows you’ll probably flee your house in the middle of the night so I’m sure he won’t,”
She chuckled as she nodded, rushing a hand through her hair as you let her go.
“And he’s right. If that would’ve happened to me if I was at my place, I’d probably run onto the streets screaming,”
You bet she wouldn’t, but you still laughed at her words. You were sure Elvis would let her know he was with her in other ways, but you wouldn’t mind at all if he made the lights in your room flicker or whatsoever.
It gave you comfort knowing he was still there, popping in whenever he pleased.
After drinking some tea and looking at some more pictures, you and Caroline decided to go back upstairs and sleep away the rush of emotions the both of you went through today.
You fluffed your pillow a little, laying down after you turned the light on your side off. Caroline sighed happily, reaching for the light on her side – once again, it flickered before she had the chance to turn it off.
“Seriously, Dad?” she deadpanned, moving closer to you again instead of turning the light off like she planned to.
You laughed, shaking your head in amusement as you reached over to the lamp, switching it off.
“Give the girl a break, El,” you chuckled, laying back down. Caroline was immediately pressed against your side, pulling the blankets up to her chin.
Just like when she was a little girl, you played with her hair to make her drift off into a slumber. While she could be a tough one with a big mouth, you didn’t care that she still liked to be babied a little at twenty nine years old.
She would always be your and Elvis’ little girl and that was your most beautiful achievement.
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