#rocket lashes

[jrueships]

as much as i looove old man yaoi, there's something so fun abt the idea of growing at the similar rate of your favs as u live your youthful but so different but lovingly similar lives

[henrysglock]

“Joyce being in TFS means Henry is going to have a crush on her like Lonnie, Bob, and Hopper”

Bitch. Young Henry’s story is about ostracized children being easy targets for predators. At no point is his story framed as being about incel status. It’s about society rejecting a child who fails to conform, and that child’s mother rejecting him because he’s been rejected by society. It’s about how forced conformity and the resulting isolation create scenarios where children have no one left to save them if a few key players are taken away.

And you want a key part of that to be [checks notes] him having a crush on a girl he doesn’t even go to school with?

Henry is isolated, which makes him turn inward, which makes him “weirder”/less compliant with society’s expectations, which then makes him more isolated, which embitters him against those expectations, which gets him rejected further. It’s a vicious cycle already, and then add in a mother who wants to “fix” her “broken” son by sending him away to a doctor, as if the problem is solely her son and not the way her son has been treated by both her and by society at large.

Also he’s gay and 12 years old. Joyce is a 17 year old girl who has enough on her plate with Bob, Lonnie, and Hopper.

[blondeaxolotl]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Ok grellers I have another meal

[willosword]

the vees take up such a unique antagonistic role in hazbin. they're so silly and pathetic except in specific bursts of competence. but even those moments are overshadowed by the way they just brute force everything. vox lost his own diss track against alastor. velvette didn't even do anything with the information she gathered at the overlord meeting. the more valentino lashes out like a child the more he loses control of angel. the person they picked to infiltrate the hotel ended up becoming its very proof of concept. they sung gleefully about the power vaccuum created by alastor's absence only for alastor to reappear 30 seconds later. what are they even doing. they're like an extremely unhinged team rocket

[luveline]

would you be in the mood to write something for peter parker x reader?? it’s been a while since i’ve read anything new for him and i’m missing my boy :( maybe something about things getting heated while making out with peter but he knows reader isn’t ready to go any farther so he has to stop them, and then maybe reader feels guilty for not being ready bc they feel like they’re stringing him along? a good mix of (semi)smut & fluff & angst haha. thank u angel i love u <3

ty for requesting, love u <3 fem!reader, 1k

cw suggestive content

“Is that okay?” he whispers. 

You’re nearly too busy trying to kiss him to whisper back. “Yeah, Peter, just–” Fully too busy. 

Peter enjoys being on top of you for two reasons; the first, the most imperative in the moment, is because it flicks a switch in your mind that has you all flustered and breathless under his touch, your chest heaving something sorry and your hands a frenetic back-and-forth between roaming and limp on his back; and the second, his guilty pleasure, is that he’s in an optimal position to slide his knee between your thighs and listen for your breathless sigh. 

He says your name between kisses to catch your attention, finds he can’t quite get it as your mouth closes up on his and your spit wets his lips. Your hand wanders under his shirt. 

Peter has been worse than shirtless around you, a consequence of his strange after-classes hobby, but he’s not so sure you’re ready to peel him out of it. Your fingers ride up his spine. 

He fishes your hand from behind him to hold it above your head. 

“Hey,” he says, pulling back, your eyes lit and aligned with one another, the brightest light in the room. It feels wrong to speak into the dark like this, disrupting your whispers and your quick breathing. “You don’t wanna do that.” 

“I do,” you say. He’s no genius, but he sees the wobble of your lashes for what it is, sudden regret. 

“It’s okay, bub. We got too heavy too fast,” he laughs. 

You bite the inside of your lip as he sits up. It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have kissed you like that, definitely shouldn’t have let his leg slide up against you, what was he thinking? He’s kissed you so hard your lips are swollen. 

You use the flats of your palms to clamber up against the headboard. Your heart is a thudding he can’t ignore, triply loud, and his own pulse is rocketing too. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“No, that’s okay,” —he reaches for the hem of your sweatpants to tug them back over your hip and stomach— “I was bearing down on you, I shouldn’t have– I–” Peter Parker levels of stuttering occur, to which he can’t subject himself, hiding his face in his hands. 

There’s a small silence. Peter attempts to calm down. Your heart rate slowly drops. 

“I really am sorry, Pete.” 

His neck cricks as he lifts his head. “What?” He lets his legs fall to the side of the bed and shuffles up to the top to see you clearly, squishing the back of your thigh where your legs are up to his hip. “Come on, what do you have to be sorry for?” 

“I’m leading you on and stuff. Not cool.” 

“What? What are you talking about? I started it.” 

“I was giving it just as good as I was getting it,” you say with a regretful smile. “You’re just such a great kisser–”

“Don’t try and distract me, it’s working,” he teases. More seriously, he puts his hand on your knee, thumb pressing to the soft crease underneath it. 

“I shouldn’t kiss you like that if I’m not ready for it.” 

“Why not? You can kiss me whatever way you like, it doesn’t have to lead to anything.” 

“I’m winding you up. Boys don’t like that.” 

“I love it,” he says, dropping his chin to his hand to speak to you from just below your eye line. “I love everything you do, I love kissing you, it doesn’t mean you have to be ready for something else.” 

You don’t accept his reassurances as quickly as he’d like, leaning back, the rising valley of your chest and tummy two pretty not to look at even as something serious transpires. He adores you, your every hill and curve and rigid line, all of it, and he’d love to fuck you but there’s no rush. What do you need to rush for? Peter’s sure it’ll be just as much fun a few months down the line as it would’ve been tonight, but it’ll be perfect then, because you’ll be ready then. 

“Who cares what boys like anyways?” he mumbles, kissing your kneecap appreciatively. 

“I just don’t wanna mess it up, Pete. I really like you.” 

“You can’t mess it up, it’s not like that, we’re not like that. You mean a whole lot more to me than that,” he says, giving your thigh a squeeze. You meet his eyes with less shyness now, the beginnings of a smile like twitches at the corners of your mouth. “I like you more than you like me, anyways. You can string me along. String me up, if you want.” 

“String you up where?” you ask with a laugh. 

“From that statue on ESU?” 

“What? How would I do that?” 

“Get Spider-Man to help you.” 

You pull the leg he isn’t leaning on up toward your stomach, knee rubbing along the inside of your opposite thigh, the last trace of regret. “You’re sure you don’t care?” 

“Don’t care, don’t mind, just want you to be happy.” He kisses your knee. “I thought you’d know that by now.” 

You brace your face in both hands, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I know when you do that thing to me. How about you keep your legs away from my legs for a little while?” 

Peter smiles like an idiot, hiding his eyes in your knee and his mouth behind your calf. He doesn’t mind being honest, but you’re making him nervous flirting like that and he isn’t allowed to kiss you again tonight. “I– I can do that. No leg stuff.” He leans away from you suddenly. “God, no leg stuff. You’re beautiful, I wish you didn’t worry about me.” 

“I’ll try not to, Pete.”  

[dcxdpdabbles]

#holiday requests

i wouldn't mind more royal consort if you're willing to write it

just sent a request for royal consort as anon

There was panic all around the room, but Danny couldn't focus on anything for too long with all his senses so overwhelmed. He was suspended in the air, power rolling through and over him in busts of electricity. He can feel himself being ripped apart, rearranged, and placed back in the same way he had been when he was fourteen, but this time, the feeling is prolonged.

The portal does so again and again and again until Danny can't tell what he is anymore. Oddly enough, it's relatively peaceful. There had been no ripping pain when his necklace and portal transmitter had connected, but there had been an overwhelming sense of cold.

It was as if Danny had been plunged into iced water, spreading across his body like a tidal wave. Danny would have almost relaxed into the portal's form if it wasn't for the pins and needles that followed each wave.

Maybe it was worse for Jaz, who was fully human when they did this to her, but Danny had Phantom to fall back on. In more ways than one, given the army his future self has summoned and the insane amount of killing intent that Phantom was broadcasting.

If he could pick up on it from within this ball of semi-consciousness, he bet everyone else was likely drowning in Phantom's rage.

The dead knights fling themselves towards the portal with gusto, slamming their swords and bodies against the force field. Each strict flung Danny further from reality, drawing them back into the welcoming void of numbness, only to be ripped back by another cold wave.

"Danny, focus!" Phantom voice boomed. "You have become the key! Close the damn portal!"

Danny blinks slowly, trying to comprehend what the words mean, until a bolt of lightning zaps out of his fingertips, twisting into the outer layer of the portal. It's then he knows the horrible truth.

The world's end is coming, and Danny is the cause of it. The portal makes a strange zapping sound before it starts stabilizing and expanding. The first large ship was passing through, leaning in like a bizarre docking ship.

"Danny!" Phantom yells, more than a bit desperate. His call reminds him of the future and what will come if he doesn't stop the monsters now. He curls his hands, grabbing the power that made him King, and yanks his arms together. His forearms shake from the effort, but he holds on, willing everything to return.

The air goes boom as the portal starts dragging things inwards instead of out, as he commands the thing to call back the aliens. The ships and the few foot soldiers- lizard-looking men- are yanked right out of the air and thrown back into a new white portal.

It takes Danny a moment to realize the animalistic screaming is coming from him as the portal slowly retracts all the energy it has thrown out. He wills the portal's power to retreat into his chest, overflowing his core with energy that spins and whirls in a tornado.

He instinctively curls up, wanting to escape the pain when he feels the cracks take shape in his core. The breaking apart of the center of his soul echoes through his skull, drowning out all other noise.

"No!" Phantom's horrified screech exploded into a ghostly Wail, ripping around the mother ship, attempting to push past. Since Danny yanked the edge inwards, it pushed beside Danny instead of through him. It had turned on its primary thrusters. The rockets burn against the strain of escaping Dany's gravitation pull and force their way through the small gap in the top left of the portal.

On the deck, more lizard-looking poachers are ripped to spreads. Their screams let Danny know Phantom had wanted them to die and die painfully. The Ghostly wail was a sonic attack, but it didn't skin enemies unless Phantom purposely rolled his tongue like that.

In a sense, Phantom had turned his wailing vibrations into whip lashes at a speed that only the Flash or Superman could outrun. The aliens had no chance.

Danny peeks through one pain-filled eye, watching as Phantom's lips curl, even as the poachers are scrambling to collect their dead. He knew that his future self hated these creatures, and they had ruined Earth in two short years, but he had not realized the amount of hate that burned in those glowing green eyes.

Hate enough that when Phantom started throwing glowing punches, the ground shook. The few people the Waynes hadn't been able to evaluate shouted as the King turned off the gravity. Everything started flouting, and Danny could even spot some cars outside lifting into the air.

Phantom didn't seem to notice as his features started melting into something inhuman, sharper, colder, and green glow expanding from his pupils across his entire eyes as punch after punch hit the force field.

A few scouter ships broke away from the portal, but they were quickly swarmed by the flouting undead soldiers who aggressively sliced the smaller vessels with their blades. Danny knew why his future self hated them, not the skeleton soldiers. Maybe they just like to fight.

A loud crack echoes through the room over ghostly wails, blowing wind, screams, and metal clacks. The sound is similar to breaking glass, shattering as Danny's core falls apart.

Danny's back arches as a scream that tears at his vocal cords is ripped from his throat. The portal around them crumbles, closing at the tip of the mother ship, tearing it apart. Just as it vanishes from sight, everyone floating around the Consort can see it slowly burst into flames on the other side.

The portal slams shut just as Phantom's fist shatters the force field. "NO!"

His head feels heavy, much too heavy for his neck, as he flouts up toward the torn-up ceiling. Gravity is still missing as Phantom swims towards him; his features melt back into more human ones as he wraps his arms around him. "You little idiot. Do you have any idea of what you just did?"

"Saved...Jazz," He manages to grunt out, smiling through the pain. Phantom's arms spam around him.

"You didn't just change the future. You rewrote our fate." As if on cue, Clockwork's amulet turns into dust. Phantom's timeline was gone.

He would have also turned to dust were he still in it, but since he was outside the timeline, Phantom would now live in this one as a permanent member.

Phantom's eyes soften. "You saved more than just Jazz. I'll send our armies to kill them off now that I saw which galaxy the rats were hiding in."

Danny's shaky smile wobbles as the numbness in his body starts to retreat. It leaves licks of burning, aching pain, and he whimpers, leaning his head against his counterpart's chest. "It hurts...."

"You shattered your core." Phantom whispers, almost as if he knows the loud noises hurt Danny's head. It thumped in time with his heartbeat, sending little shockwaves of agony through his bones. "We'll have to take you to FrostBite. But I can't take you without knowing who had the portal key. We can't risk them calling the army before our men finish them off. Pandora is leading the charge against them right now."

"Okay....it was the Wayne Butler who had the key. He needs help."

Phantom's arms tighten as furry rippled under his skin. "He's a dead man."

"No." Danny attempts to shake his head, but the motion is too much for his poor shot nerves. He thinks his fingertips are smoking when he curls one hand in Phantom's cape. "He was in the containment unit. An alien took his place. I think it was pretending to be him."

Phantom hums. "That was one of their favorite tactics. I chased them across the cosmos. I saw them collect other aliens on some protected planets, so they resorted to luring people away by using familiar faces."

Danny makes the same sound, half awake. "They stripped him naked. Covered him in triangles."

"Fuck. What color were the tringles?"

"Blue."

"They weren't going to sell him as a pet. They planned on marketing him a breeding bull or an expensive meat plater for aliens that like exotic animals. Likely due to the poor guy's age." Phantom hisses, pushing a floating table away from them. "What happened to the alien that was pretending to be him?"

"Killed him"

"Good job." Phantom pats his back. "Rest now. I'll handle the rest."

"Okay." Danny is releasing the few strands of consciousness when he hears Tim Drake's desperate call from Phantom's left. It's much closer than it should be, considering they were still flouting near where the once grand chandelier had hung.

"Your majesty! Please turn the gravity back on! The surrounding fifty miles radius is in a panic, and people are flouting away!"

Phantom sighs, his cape flaring dramatically as he adjusts Danny to snap his fingers. There are clacks and crashes as gravity yanks everything back to the floor. Phantom doesn't pay them any mind as a new green portal blooms in front of him, the swirling green like a calm lake surface, a welcoming difference to the zapping one of the enemy.

Phantom steps through, ignoring the cries of the humans. The portal closes on Tim's desperate "Please allow us to help the Consort!"

Strange, Thinks the injured Halfa. He shouldn't sound so close anymore. He should be on the ground somewhere.

Danny just knows they will be panicking about him being hurt. Didn't wars start because of similar situations whenever a royal visits a different country? Danny isn't too sure. His mind is fuzzy, and he's only awake because he hasn't been surrounded by darkness yet, but he's flouting near it."

Frostbite jumps to his feet with a slack jaw. He bends in a bow, stumbling around his desk's stacked scrolls and research papers.

"My King!" He cries, his eyes swinging back and forth between the two Dannies. The yeti bows again, a little more hesitant as he mutters, "And my other..... King? What is happening?"

"We need your help," Phantom tells him. "His soul core got shattered. I think he's dying."

Danny whimpers, only half aware of how serious this is. He doesn't want to die. Not like this. Please. Everyone still thinks he's married to himself. He'll forever be remembered as Phantom's Consort instead of all his other talents.

Like making one mean salsa.

Frostbite makes a sad, choking whine, but Phantom doesn't pay it any mind. He presses Danny closer, and the human can feel the vibrations of his voice on his chest as he demands. "Prepare your operation chambers. I'm giving him my core."

"But, My King, that would mean you....."

"I don't care. I didn't return to Earth expecting to live. This is a command from your King. Do it"

Danny fades away into the darkness, unable to protest Phantom's request. He goes limb in the strong arms of his future self, aching for the version of himself that saw his world destroyed and would not be able to see the peace their actions brought.

Frostbite's grim voice echoes in the darkness. "This is another way, my King, but we need a human sacrifice."

"I'll do it." A third, unexpected voice cuts in, and Danny identifies it as Tim Drake before he knows no more.

[bramblebeau]

Alright I told myself I wouldn't interact with fandom when s2 came out, and I haven't and don't plan to except to say this about people deciding Caitlyn is the Worst or that the writing is OOC.

As someone who has had a family member violently killed, I cannot stress how much it shakes up everything you thought you were and stood for. My beliefs in proportionate compassionate justice and the rights of all human beings are some of the strongest I have (stronger now because of the way that experience affected me personally), but they were pushed to the absolute limit when it came to an individual who had killed my loved one, showed no remorse, and laughed in our faces outside court, among other things.

People generally like to believe it wouldn't be them or their peace-loving family members being talked down from seriously considering violent revenge, consequences be damned. People like to believe they wouldn't lash out at people closest to them under that pressure, that they wouldn't build walls around the kindest and most sensitive parts of themselves because those parts are the ones feeling pain you never thought possible, that they wouldn't stalk the killer, make notes on all their family and friends, and fuck up their hands punching walls in anger wishing so badly it was flesh and bone because they can't handle the fact that there's no way to turn back time to stop it all from happening. People like to think they're "better" than that. But the reality is messy and painful as hell.

With Caitlyn, she has the added guilt of having actually had the opportunity to stop Jinx before she fired the rocket, but she hesitated just long enough for it to result in the deaths of her mother and other councillors and in the cities being plunged into chaos. Not only that, but the person close to her she's lashing out at is the person who caused her to hesitate, and just so happens to be the sister of the killer.

Furthermore, her behaviour is entirely in character. We have seen her set up as someone who becomes obsessed with achieving a goal and will do pretty much anything she wants to get there. In S1, we agreed with her methods because her goal was exposing and taking down Silco, and because it led to Vi being released. In S2, she's doing a similar thing but it's fuelled by fear and a type of pain she doesn't know how to deal with, rather than being fuelled by a need to prove herself and solve a case, and it leads to her making morally questionable decisions and to hurting Vi. She admits herself, albeit privately to Vi, that she does not know what she's doing and doesn't know how to fill this hole in her chest (and the hole in the city leadership). She has been sheltered from the real world for almost all her life, and as a result she has no experience of functioning or making decisions under this kind of pressure. The real world blew up in her face in the worst way and she was given power and a loaded rifle, and then shoved into an even more elevated position by a very experienced warlord who is manipulating the shit out of the whole situation.

I'm not saying that you have free rein to hurt people when you're grieving and facing extreme stress. (If you think that's what I'm saying then idk I'm not sure there's much hope for you in terms of critical thinking skills). What I'm saying is that Caitlyn is exhibiting pretty normal human behaviour that most people would be susceptible to in those circumstances, not the behaviour of someone who is some kind of heartless abusive bastard.

TLDR: Caitlyn is being written in a way that completely makes sense and is also not OOC, and if someone told me there would be no chance of them reacting in similar ways I simply would not believe them.

[corollaservant]

(18+) blue hair shiggy (perv) boyfriend thoughts

shiggy is not your typical panty sniffing perv. he gets off on things with sentimental value, things that remind him of you. a hair tie that fell off, how it'd look if for once he could normally use his bare hands to hook it around your hair while you choke on his cock, teardrops hanging off your eyelashes. the spoon you left behind with your saliva on it, how it would look to have you spit on his hands for once only for him to stuff your cunt fully with them, hell, he'd use as many fingers as possible if it meant he could properly touch you and make you cum for him. [he'd store the utensil in his room and never wash it]

since he's also had a very abusive and stigmatizing childhood, his trauma would reflect on his fucking. he'd call you a whore and spit on your face while you'd ride his dick but would expect you to thank him while you're at it.

"say you're thankful for this" he'd hiss while guiding you to bounce on him; "t–thank you Tenko" you'd cry out, he has never been complimented or thanked before, he needs you to see him, needs you to feel his pain and appreciate his efforts while he takes out all his pent-up anger on you. this dynamic allows him to lash out and be on the receiving end simultaneously and you don't really mind.. it's not like you lie when you thank him, you don't get fucked like this daily.

fingers. okay, it's not rocket science that he knows how to delicately (and not) use them. but because exactly he's touch starved due to these restrictions, he makes sure to not only pump them in ways that drive you crazy but also to remember the exact angle and position.

multitasking — man will be on your neck, in your cunt and on your clit at the same time. he's just that desperate.

[3minsover]

Steddie who keep missing each other. Who aren't in love at the same time. It's neither of their faults; they're just not quite in touch, in tune with each other.

Sure, Eddie had a stupid huge embarrassing crush on Steve throughout junior year, senior year and senior year 2.0. Sure, it was made so much worse when in Steve's first and only senior year, Eddie found himself sat in math class diagonally behind the fallen king. He'd watch the way his hair moved when he ran his hands through it in frustration. He'd see the shift of muscle under his shirt when he bent down to pick up a dropped pencil. And every time Steve would smile, flutter his lashes and pinch his eyebrows, say; "I'm sorry sir, I just don't know", Eddie would find himself shifting in his seat, nipping at the skin on the side of his finger, knee bouncing under the desk. They didn't really talk beyond 'hey's in the corridor, beyond 'did you do the homework?'s - to which Eddie would without fail stutter out an 'Uh- so, no. I meant to- Just, uh. No.' and Steve would without fail flash a soft smile, bump his shoulder into Eddie's and whisper 'Me neither.'

It got easier, after Steve graduated. Eddie still saw him around, still recognised his car in the lot when he was giving Robin Buckley from band a ride to school. But it wasn't so immediate, wasn't so raw. And after a while, the butterflies would fade. He'd be able to meet Steve's eye across the Family Video counter without feeling his mouth go dusty and his heart leap into his throat.

Steve hadn't realised his feelings for Eddie were anything more than friendly, until he graduated high school. Without the daily glances across the classroom, the moments he'd always take to make conversation, it felt emptier. It gave him time to think about the way his chest would tighten at Eddie's shy smile whenever they talked. Steve hadn't realised he might be allowed to feel something softer than 'dudely bro-ship'.

That is, until it fades so the only time Steve sees him is when he drops Robin off at school, or when he comes in to family video to rent Halloween again. Steve's heart prickles at the sight of him, but after a while, Eddie's visits drop off.

Steve tries to keep himself busy, grateful for some time without inter-dimensional battles or Russian agents trying to kill him. Thoughts of Eddie drift to the back of his mind, for almost six months. And then in the spring of '86, Steve finds himself thrown against the splintered wall of a nondescript boathouse on the outskirts of town. And it's Eddie Munson from Math that has a shaking, jagged bottle held up to his throat. It absolutely doesn't awaken things in him that he never knew he could want, absolutely not.

But regardless, he's staring half-terrified into the dark, watery brown eyes of Eddie Munson from Math, and all he wants is to reach out and smooth a palm over his cheek. He wants to curl his hand around those trembling fingers and tell him it's all gonna be okay. Of course, it isn't. Steve doesn't get much of a chance to talk to Eddie over the next week, what with some vampire soul-sucker guy terrorizing the town, and Max getting possessed and the whole thing going entirely to shit. But he finds himself drawn inexplicably into Eddie's space, splits off with Eddie and has the girls pair up and then Eddie calls him 'big boy'. And his entire world stops spinning for a moment. For just a second, it's just the two of them, and Eddie's face is so close to his, his smile so wild and beautiful.

The whole world stops, before it rockets back into thrilling, terrifying motion.

In the fear and the panic of the final Vecna showdown, Steve has to thrust his feelings back down deep. He can't let shit like a crush get in the way when the lives of the people he loves most are at stake.

It all happens so fast, and before he knows it, Max is in a coma, Eddie's been torn up to within an inch of his life, there's no certainty that Vecna's even gone, and he doesn't know what to do.

For days, Steve sits by Eddie's bedside when he can - when he's not with Max - only sleeps when he does. He silently begs for Eddie to be alright, feels guilty for every thought he has that isn't about Max. He begins to resent how desperately he pines for the moments when Eddie's awake, and after a week, once it's clear that Eddie's going to recover, Steve doesn't visit him anymore.

With all the feelings that are getting jumbled amongst the multitude of all the other horrible nasty fragile things that are writhing around inside, Steve forces himself to shove any thoughts of Eddie down, to get over him. And before he realises, it's been weeks. He's still worried for Eddie, of course he is. The guy almost died in Henderson's arms. But now the world's not actively ending, now he has a moment to breathe, he wonders whether the sparking, shimmering thing that had his mouth going dusty and his heart leaping into his throat was the same thing that had him saying all that shit to Nancy in the upside down.

He can't trust that it's not just a trauma response.

After Eddie recovers, slowly and with more help than he'd ever admit he needed, he sees Steve again. But he's distant. Friendly, but impersonal. An acquaintance. Things are as they were before. It hurts, but he knows all too well that any of the flirtation, the playful teasing and longing looks can only be chalked up to the fear of the end of the world.

It's a couple months before Steve tells Eddie he's going to college out of state. He's leaving in a week. And everything that had been laying dormant for so long comes bubbling up to the surface.

"Shit, I wish you'd given me a little more notice, Harrington," Eddie says, trying desperately to keep the heartbreak out of his voice.

"I'm sorry man, I just. It all happened pretty fast and like if I didn't do it now, it wasn't gonna happen, yknow?" Steve shrugs awkwardly, runs a hand through his hair.

If I didn't do it now, it wasn't gonna happen.

"It's gonna be a damn sight harder to like you this much when you're that far away," Eddie's mouth says before his mind can catch up.

"I like you too, man, but hey, I'll be home for Christmas. You can catch me up on everything I miss, huh?" Steve bumps Eddie's shoulder, just as he used to when they were leaning against the lockers back at school.

"No, Steve. I- You're, I mean. I like you. In a- Like I have, I totally have feelings for you, dude," Eddie forces out, watching his sneaker as he kicks at the ground.

"Eddie..." Steve says softly, and it just breaks Eddie's heart even more. Because that's a let-him-down-gently 'Eddie'.

"No, no it's- Don't sweat it man, just sorta had to tell you before you- Anyway. Have fun at college. I'll- I'll be here when you come home."

"Eddie, wait. I'm sorry. I just..." Steve begins, looks so pained, reaches to take hold of Eddie's shoulder. He avoids it, ducks out the way. And then Eddie leaves, before Steve can try to do something awful like making him feel better or tell him it's okay.

Eddie doesn't see Steve again before he goes to college. Hears from Henderson over the next few months how he's getting on, all the babes he's dating, the assignments he's trying to actually do before the deadline, and Eddie forces himself to smile, crack a joke, whatever.

Slowly, he extricates himself from conversations about Steve. Doesn't want to hear it, but can't tell anyone why. So he finds excuses; he has to take a leak, just remembered he promised Wayne he'd pick up groceries, got band practice, whatever he can come up with. He doesn't even hear Steve's name, tries desperately not to think about him (and fails), until December.

Until the evening of December 24th, when there's knock at the trailer door. With Wayne already asleep, Eddie drags himself from the couch to pull the front door open.

Eddie's met with a coat-wrapped, scarf-muffled, bobble-hatted Steve Harrington standing on his doorstep. He’s rocking back and forth on his toes, arms crossed tight around his chest, hands tucked under his arms. His cheeks are pink, the tip of his nose pinker still, nibbled by the cold. He’s just as beautiful as the last time Eddie saw him, and it jerks his heart into frantic motion against his ribs.

He’d thought he was over Steve, that seeing him again would be just like what it is; welcoming home an old friend. Except all Eddie wants to do is take hold of Steve’s frostbitten cheeks, pull his face towards him and kiss him like it’ll erase all the months of pining that had gone before.

Of course, he doesn’t. Instead, he just balks, says "Steve? What are you-?"

"I had to see you. I’m sorry if this is like inappropriate or if you don’t wanna see me- Dustin said you seemed like, mad at me or something. And honestly I can’t blame you, really. I shouldn’t have- it’s not that I didn’t, that I wasn’t. What I’m trying to say, Eddie, is that I know it’s too late. I know I missed my shot. But I haven’t stopped thinking about you for the last four months."

"Steve-"

"I know I have no right to do this to you. But it was killing me, man. Because I think I might have- I think I might be-"

"Me too," Eddie interrupts. His mind’s whirring and tumbling, trying to gather up the pieces of Steve’s fragmented confession. Steve’s jaw hangs open just a little, paused halfway through a word. "I thought it’d gone away. Thought I’d gotten over Steve Harrington," Eddie continues with a sardonic little shimmy of his hands, "but uh, seems you’re a little harder to shake than I thought."

"D'you, d'you want to shake me? Off, I mean," Steve asks, dipping his chin and looking up through thick lashes, a shy, self-conscious suggestion of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"No. no I don’t."

"Oh thank god. 'Cause I don’t know if I’d survive that," Steve exhales, his small smile spreading into a grin. He rocks forward onto the balls of his feet again, and Eddie finds himself pulled into Steve’s orbit. It doesn’t matter that he’s just in his socks and the doorstep is damp with cold. Eddie crosses the threshold and curls his fingers gently around the lapels of Steve’s coat. Eddie’s struggling to breathe, little puffs bursting forth from his lips and clashing in the air, mixing with Steve’s own.

"Can I-?" Eddie asks, doesn’t dare say the word aloud in case Steve’s not on the same page; gives himself an out if Steve’s not where Eddie’s at. Where he’s always been at, really. It just wasn’t quite at the right time.

"Yes. Please," Steve breathes, sweet frosty breath swirling gray-white around in the thin, chilly air between their faces. Slowly, giving Steve plenty of time to back away, change his mind, Eddie draws Steve towards him, tips his chin until their noses brush. the very peaks of their lips touch, and Steve’s breath hitches at the contact. It’s the prettiest sound Eddie’s ever heard. Eddie sips in a breath, hardly daring to move, and lets Steve nudge their mouths together.

Finally.

Their lips press softly together, and Eddie feels Steve’s hands come to grip at the sides of his sweater, bunching it at his waist. He pulls Eddie towards him, moans softly, just the tiniest hint of voice slipping out and into Eddie’s mouth. A new prettiest sound.

Suddenly aware of their very public, very chilly location, Eddie stumbles backwards, pulls Steve inside with him. Steve follows enthusiastically, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel, lips never leaving Eddie’s for even a moment. They’re entirely wrapped up in each other, even as Eddie frantically unwraps Steve’s cold-proof clothing, lost completely in the feeling of their bodies pressing together.

They took their time, to get here. But now that they are, here is where they’ll stay. It won’t be easy, being apart for long stretches while Steve’s away at college, but now they’ll have a little something of each other’s to keep hold of until they’re together again.

They’ll have the promises they made each other that night, the words whispered against skin, the kisses pressed and breath shared. They’ll have the silent, precious exchange of one heart for another. And that will see them through.

[honeytonedhottie]

incorporating chic-ness and elegance into ur lifetsyle⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍨

WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE CHIC ;

what does it mean to be chic? the word chic is used a lot in conversation but it actually has two meanings. chic (adjective) means to be elegantly and stylishly fashionable. but the meaning of chic that we are going to focus on in todays post is the noun.

CHIC (noun) : stylishness and elegance, typically of a specified kind…💬🎀

when i think of chic people like audrey hepburn and coco chanel. who do you think of when u think of the word chic? once you've thought of people who pop up in ur mind when u think of chic, think about what makes them chic? is it their clothes? the way that they carry and present themselves? is it their influence etc.

THE LITTLE LUXURIES ADD UP TO A CHIC LIFE ;

everyday is a reason to celebrate. you opening ur eyes this morning is a reason to celebrate. which is why i dont understand why people like to "save the beautiful things for celebrations". celebrate urself everyday. use the expensive perfume that u like, use ur best candles, have cake. dont save the little luxuries of life for when theres something to celebrate. celebrate everyday.

additionally the little things that u do everyday can add up to a more chic lifestyle and are not that difficult to implement into ur life. some examples of this include

drinking herbal teas with honey

starting a collection of something that u love

starting a collection specifically is a great way to spark the feeling of luxury or abundance…💬🎀

practicing self care

upgrading ur vocabulary

reading books and novels that are enriching

doing what YOU wanna do

fresh flowers

when you romanticize and make ur life seem more chic and elegant even if its with little things that u do, those things will add up and ultimately you'll formulate the chic and elegant life that u want.

GET READY EVERYDAY ;

when u present urself in the best possible way you'll FEEL it. when u put time into ur appearance every single day and get ready everyday your confidence will sky rocket because as we know, when we look good we FEEL good.

for me, when i get ready everyday i'll get more done in the day because i feel put together and posh etc. allocate time for urself everyday to do your makeup and keep up with ur appearance because it'll make u feel more chic.

THINGS THAT I THINK ARE CHIC ;

hand held mirrors

fluffy lashes

a little black dress

french tips

little baguette bags (tiny little purses in general)

fluffy powder puffs

cursive

THE STYLISH ASPECT OF BEING CHIC ;

the chic style is all about not doing too much and letting the outfit speak for itself. not wearing too many colors at once and choosing colors that complement each other. the outfit is more in the details then in the outfit itself which is why the little black dress is such a timeless fashion staple. some details to focus on when being chic are using nudish colors on ur nails or just go for french tips.

[girliism]

patrick giving art a sloppy and kinda bad blowjob one night when they’re drunk. “i can help you with that.” patrick slurred, eyeing art’s boner. they had been talking about how one of the ball girls forgot to wear safety shorts so everything time the wind blew they could see her panties. “wh-what?” patrick nodded towards the tent in arts pants. “i can suck you off if you want.” art stared at him, it’s not like patrick hadn’t helped him before, but that was different that was just hands. “you wouldn’t even know what to do.” patrick rolled his eyes. “it’s not rocket science art.” he looked the blonde straight in the eye. “just wanna help you.” patrick pouted slightly, letting his fingers tug at his best friends belt. art not being able to deny his friend, nodded his head. “ok.” the sounds of the shitty ac in their room, and the two men’s breathing gets interrupted by art’s loud moan when patrick takes him into his mouth. “h-holy shit.” art’s hand immediately flies to grip at patrick’s hair. patrick’s mouth was so warm and he had absolutely no rhythm, just bobbing his head up and down sometimes going a little to far down cause him to gag around art’s dick, but that didn’t matter to art who had his head thrown back, loud and almost whiny moans coming out. patrick pulled off of him for a second. “you’re so fucking loud.” patrick smiled shaking his head, before taking art’s cock back into his mouth. art bit his lip trying to quiet himself, but then patrick’s hand came down to squeeze at art’s balls and art couldn’t contain the sound that came out. “oh fuck!” the hand hold patrick’s hair left it’s spot, art slapping it over his mouth. kinda annoyed at how art took his comment on his volume as patrick telling him to be quiet makes him reach up pulling art’s hand off his mouth to interlock their fingers instead. art only got louder with patrick sucking him faster his teeth dragging lightly against the skin of his cock ever so often. “think i’m gonna cum.” art whined, his fingers digging into the other males hand. patrick looked up at him through his lashes. their lust filled gazes meeting each other had art cumming down his friends throat with a loud cry of his name. patrick swallowed down what art gave him, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. the two of them sat there catching their breath. art was the first to speak. “you look good with my dick in your mouth.” patrick stared at him before laughing, pushing art’s shoulder. “shut up.”

[eccentricwritingbaby]

thank you

charles leclerc x reader

summary - reader has been stressed from work, leading charles to give her comfort.

masterlist

-

letting out a deep sigh, you begin your long trek up the stairs to yours and your boyfriends shared apartment. work had been kicking your ass recently, and charles knew it - it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out.

you had been lightly moody, working later hours than usual, tired, quiet, and so much more. it visibly countered your usual personality of bright and bubbly, passionate about your work, and confident in your ways. 

charles held an understanding and empathetic response to your recent behavior, he too had rough relationships with work - he knew how draining it can get. and everytime he broke, you were there to pick up the pieces - you were his rock and now it was his turn to be yours.

it was the beautiful give and take that prospered in your love, when one of you could only give thirty percent in your ways, the other made up the seventy. your recent loss of effort, not for lack of trying to give your all, had made charles step up to the plate. 

your jingle of keys outside alerted charles of your entrance before your presence even appeared. once inside, charles looked up at your slumped figure leaning against the wall, struggling to remove the heels on your feet.

he slid off the couch, meeting your form at the door, and dropping down to a knee. his left hand slid up your right calf and placed the heel on his knee. his hands began to remove your shoe and once the right heel was discarded, he tapped his leg again and motioned for your other foot. you switched weight to your right and placed your left foot onto his knee as he began to gently remove the other shoe. with the heels safely placed on the ground and off your aching feet, charles brings himself back up to his full height and begins to remove your jacket and purse. with those then hung onto the rack by your door, he reaches behind you and locks up, proceeding to then grab your hand softly and lead you to the bedroom. 

you trail behind him quietly as he opens and shuts the door to your bedroom. once inside, he guides you to sit on the chair of your vanity in the room because according to yourself ‘outside clothes are not allowed on the bed’ which is heavily enforced in your home.

charles begins to disappear into the shared closet and reappears with your favorite loungewear, his tshirt and his sweatpants. once you were fully dressed, you were finally comfortable enough to break the comfortable silence between you two.

“thank you,” you whisper, looking up at your boyfriend through your lashes. he stalks over to you, pulling you closer by your waist, giving you a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“not necessary, amour,” he replies, “what do you need from me, y/n?” sincerity and concern are laced in soft tones throughout your boyfriends voice. you could tell he was yearning to help you, aching to give you comfort, hoping his actions would bring you back with light. you wanted to give it to him, wanted to feel like yourself again - but you couldn’t.

and charles understood that with one look into your eyes. “okay, amour, okay,” he replies to your non-verbal answer. 

“i’m sorry, char,” you fell into his arms fully, him quickly reacting by wrapping his own around you tightly. he presses multiple kisses to the top of your head and drops one hand to run it down your back.

“you have nothing to be sorry for, feeling like this is normal. i just ask that you take care of yourself - that’s all i want,” you reposition your head as he speaks to you in order to look up at his face, he tilts his head down and gives you a small smile, “now how about we get some food into you, huh?” he adds on with an encouraging smile.

“i’m not that hungr-”

“nuh-uh,” he cuts you off, “you’re eating,” he shakes his head as he looks down at you, still holding his smile, “now i don’t care what you eat, but you need to eat, ok?”

and for the first time that entire day, you smiled. a real genuine smile. charles felt as though his heart grew as it rapidly beat in his chest. two and a half years together and you still gave him butterflies, even after a simple smile. 

“okay, i’ll eat,” you answer, “what should we have?”

“anything you want, baby,” charles gave you a light tap and squeeze to the bum as he ushered you out of your bedroom and into the kitchen.

your mood had instantly increased since you walked through the door of your apartment. trading the bright fluorescent lighting in the office to the dim, candle and lamp-lit apartment that your boyfriend had kindly arranged. the little things that he constantly did always left you at ease. even if it were as simple as the lighting.

you both walked into the dimly lit kitchen as charles led you to sit at the stool in front of your kitchen island. walking around the counter, your doting boyfriend began to rummage through the cabinets in search of a proper meal for you both.

“love, i think we have some ramen in the top cabinet,” you offer up, “i am not going to feed you ramen after your tough day, y/n,” he gives back.

“but i like ramen,” you whine lightly. and you did. was it what you preferred after a day of only sneaking bites here and there of your breakfast bagel and stale black coffee? no. but neither of you cook perfectly, and you were not about to leave your apartment after your day. 

“fine, but just know that i protested,” he held his hands up to feign his innocence before he continued, “i like ramen too, but you deserve the good restaurant ramen after the day you had, not the packet that we don’t even dress up well,”

“then let’s dress it up!” you cheer, giving charles what he had been wanting this past week - your sparkle. it’s in your eyes, your smile, and your soul. he can feel the real you, the bright you, coming to the surface - and he would be damned if he didn’t do everything in his power to keep it there. 

“okay, cherie, get the eggs and spring onions out of the fridge for me, please,” he laughs out his request because of your lightened behavior.

you hop off the stool and head to the fridge with a skip. charles admires you as he retrieves the pots and pans for your cooking adventure. he knew you both wouldn’t be able to do the food justice, but the time together was everything he always looked forward to. low music on in the background, dim lighting and candles lit, quiet instructions being passed between the two of you, horrible dance moves being executed, butchered singing and corny jokes. it was his favorite time with you. your work, his work, fan drama, family drama - it was all forgotten. you both had entered your self care bubble and were working on gaining joy back into the commonality of life. 

after the noodles and other ingredients were simmering on the stove, you reached around charles to grab bowls and chopsticks for your dinner and his hands found home to your waist. the bowls and utensils were then set on the counter and you spun in his hold. charles bent down, reaching your lips with his own and you hummed in approval. 

when you broke for air, his forehead stayed connected to your own and you whispered once again, “thank you,”

“always, amour”

[rroseselavyyy]

tattoo - myg

pairing: yoongi x female reader

warnings: smut, prone bone://///

Under wet lashes adorned with tears as clear as the crystal sky, your eyes always found a way to betray you when they lingered on his figure with deep longing. Min Yoongi always made you feel elephants jump in your stomach, hurting the butterflies that used to tickle you all over with the feeling of how much you were head over heels for him.

He was infatuated with the wings of those butterflies. So infatuated that he waited for them to be repaired, only to broke them again and again.

It was cruel of him to make you weak at the knees by smiling so beautifully.

How could you look away when he was the object of your affection? Even if it meant breaking your heart into a million pieces at the sight of him, giving all his attention to someone he had only met a few minutes before.

Counting minutes had never made you feel pathetic before. But here you were, waiting for him to finally realize how broken you were.

It was not rocket science to understand that Yoongi wanted you to suffer. In fact, he wanted you to suffocate in your own despair.

After all, it was the price you paid for choosing your best friend over him, you should have known better. There was no better way to give you a taste of your own medicine.

But what once started as a game between the two of you became something that was killing you inside. You had to put an end to it before you lost your mind.

You gulped down your drink when you felt you couldn't stand the sight before you. The alcohol coursing through your veins made you feel tipsy enough to care about the consequences, which helped you gather your courage before making your way to him.

"I need you-" You wrapped your hand around his wrist, causing him to turn his head away from the conversation as if your touch had burned his skin. "Can I borrow you for a second?"

He looked you in the eye as if looking for any sign that you were actually talking to him. Contrary to the worst scenarios you'd imagined in your head, he made no attempt to protest. Instead, he followed you with your hand around his wrist, as if someone had put a spell on him.

You dragged him into the bedroom at the end of the hall before locking the door behind you. Yoongi stood with his hands crossed on his broad chest, as if waiting for your explanation, when you finally found the courage to look into his eyes.

"What do you need me for?" The loud noises from below were enough to fill the silence you shared, but he whispered as if trying to tell you a secret in a crowded room.

You bit back a whimper as he looked intently into your eyes. "I can't bear to see you with someone else." Yoongi tilted his head with a slight smirk on his face. He made you step back as he made his way towards you until you were trapped between the door and his firm body.

You didn't realize you were crying until his thumb traced a path across your cheek, stained with the mascara ruined by your tears. His eyes never left yours as he sucked his thumb, as if your tears were as delicious as the declaration of your undying love for him.

"You just have to be a fucking crybaby to get what you want, don't you?" Your heart was ready to burst from its cage as he nudged your legs with his knee. His minty breath lingered on your lips as his gaze darkened on your face with an expression your dizzy brain couldn't fathom.

"How did it feel to be faithful to your boyfriend while thinking of me between your legs?" He whispered above your ear before a hard slap on your thigh made your breath catch in your throat.

"You can't blame me for giving Hoseok a chance. After all, you made it seem so easy to forget me." It was getting harder and harder for you not to cry your eyes out with every word he said to you. Even though you wanted to silence him by kissing his soft lips, all you could do was look at him with eyes filled with pain. "You don't know how much it broke my heart to see you holding hands with lover after lover, each one claiming to be the love of your life. I thought I could forget you as easily as you did."

It was true that life was easier when you were tangled up in your sheets. His embrace was the only thing that kept the nightmares away on those nights when you couldn't sleep. Ironically, he was now the one trying to make your life a living nightmare.

You were perfectly fine with it until you realized that you were developing feelings for Yoongi, which made you distance yourself from him. It was also true that your stubbornness got you both into so much trouble. The possibility of being rejected by him scared you more than losing him. In the end, the two of you parted ways without a second thought.

You didn't realize you needed Yoongi in your life until you lost him.

His slender fingers brushed your hair from your face as his gaze softened with a spark of adoration. At that moment, he didn't really need to tell you how much you meant to him, for you could already read his eyes like an open book.

"You shouldn't have run to my best friend in the first place. Now everyone will say I stabbed my best friend in the back."

"We've already broken up, for your information." He giggled as you wrinkled your nose in frustration. His eyes trailed down your face as if studying it, and you felt blood rush to your cheeks as he pecked you on the nose. "That doesn't make us saints either, silly."

He grabbed your waist with his veiny hands and nuzzled your cheek affectionately. You finally took the initiative and tangled your fingers behind his neck. Having him close to you after such a long time made you want to hold him tighter.

You mentally thanked the alcohol for melting your cool exterior, which had made you hide your emotions from him all this time.

"Baby, all I could think about was you. I thought I would go crazy without you." His fingers brushed gently over your thighs, you couldn't stop moaning under his touch. His breath lingered hotly on your neck as his kisses exchanged subtle licks on your skin. "Please let me make love to you. I've missed you so much."

"On one condition," you put your hand playfully on his chest. "I don't want you to see any other girls." He grinned wickedly, his amused expression showed how much he enjoyed making you jealous.

Without warning, he wrapped your legs around his waist, making you squeal as if you didn't expect him to carry you as light as a feather. You instinctively clung to him as if your life depended on it as he carried you to bed. "Then you must stay away from my friends, princess."

"You have to convince me that you will not ignore me as well." He fell onto the bed, his body on top of yours. You were a mess, giggling as he nibbled at his lower lip with hooded eyes. His beautiful features, lit by the moonlight, made your heart ache even in the heat of the moment. He whispered as if in pain. "Because I can't let you go after getting so close to you."

He pressed his rough hand to your stomach to stop your hips trying to meet his crotch, while his other hand slid your panties off your legs. Desperate for some friction between your legs, you let out a moan as he unbuckled his belt.

"I didn't know you wanted me to fuck you so badly." You wondered how strong it was as he positioned you on your stomach like you were nothing but a ragdoll. "Didn't your boyfriend fuck you well enough? Is that because why you missed me so much?" You were naked as he removed his clothes. Your cheek pressed against the mattress, you waited in anticipation as he placed a pillow under your stomach to lift your hips slightly. "My beautiful baby, I'm going to make you feel so good."

You shivered as he teased your wet folds with the head of his cock. You found it increasingly difficult to breathe as you felt his skin brush against yours. The only thing keeping him from collapsing on top of you was his strong arms encircling your body.

"Fuck-" He whimpered at the feeling of your heavenly walls sucking him in. His chest was pressed against your back as his breathing accelerated with each thrust. "I wanted to hate you for every single day you kept this pussy from me."

"It was your fault, Yoongi-" You let out a sob as he planted wet kisses on your neck. He encircled your legs with his, his hips slamming against your ass with rhythmic thrusts. "I wasn't the one chasing girls."

He clung to your sides as he chased his high, as if he couldn't get enough of you. Your moans and whimpers coming out of your mouth were like a song to his ears, making him want to get down on his knees and worship you until the end of time.

"Don't worry about that, angel. I have no intention of letting you go this time." His words sent shivers down your spine, even as your body melted under the heat radiating from his body. "I just want you to know that no matter what happens to us, I can't stop loving you. It's like you're stuck on me like a tattoo."

You couldn't hold yourself back from cumming when he finally declared his devotion to you. It was sweeter than any dessert, one taste of it was enough to make you feel like the only girl in the world. Your sweet moans and clenching around him made him cum right after you.

As he enjoyed the sensation of his cock nestling inside you, he nuzzled his nose against your neck. Inhaling the sweet body wash that lingered on your skin, he sighed with pleasure. He was sure that nothing could ever compare to having you underneath him, fucking his cum into you like he had all the time in the world.

He tucked your exhausted body under the sheets before taking his place right behind you. He rested his cheek on his hand as he took a moment to admire your beauty. Even though you were cuddling on a bed that was not yours, you felt strangely safe in his arms. You brought your hand to play with his hair, slightly damp from his sweat. "I want you to be mine, Yoongi. Your love has never been enough. I'm done playing games." Your heart pounded in its cage, making the loud music from downstairs sound like nothing more than a hum in your ears. He looked at you with a beautiful smile on his face as he took your hand and intertwined your fingers with his. "I'm yours, kitten, as long as you have me."

[princessbrunette]

easter at the chateau was pretty non existent. atleast until bunny!reader came along.

they’d heard you before they saw you, the sweetest thing clad in white — bunny ears flopping atop your head and basket rumbling in your hand as you run across the dry grass, attracting attention of the two males on the porch.

“happy easter!” you squeal, diving into jj’s arms and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“jesus girlie, you got a rocket up your ass or what?” he pats your butt, his own smile unable to be hidden, always happy to see you. you jump down, straightening out your skirt.

“hi sweetheart.” john b seems less alarmed, arms crossed as he leans against the front door hinge. “uh, what’chu got there?”

“your first clue!” you pant, still out of breath from your eccentric entrance. you reach into the otherwise nearly empty basket, merely there for appearances and pull out a neatly folded pastel pink card, handing it to john b.

“clue?” he frowns, opening it up as jj wanders curiously over to his side.

“you guys are always chasing treasure so i decided to make you guys a little easter hunt!” you grin, eyes glimmering hopefully at the two. jj points his finger at you.

“now that? that is adorable. can this little hunt maybe like, wait until i’ve had some breakfast? or—”

“you have to do it now!” your voice cracks, looking devastated at his lack of enthusiasm.

“—you know what now is the perfect time for a hunt, actually so— that’s perfect, yeah—”

john b is smiling down at the card, reading the rhyming clue you’d scrawled in pretty little curlicue. it was terribly easy, but incredibly sweet. the brunette touches his chest with a genuine smile, looking back up at you.

“healing my inner child right now, y’know that?”

his blonde best friend snatches the card, adjusting his pants with the other hand as he reads over it. “when’d you have time to hide all these clues around anyway?”

“last night! when you guys were sleeping.” comes your simple smile, fiddling with the lace trim of your mini skirt. they look at you, and then eachother before shrugging.

“yeah, checks out.”

you follow them around, giggling on their tails as they pretend to struggle with your clues. when they arrive at the last card, you scramble away— waiting for them in the bedroom where the hunt ends, shedding your clothes to reveal a frilly white lingerie set, and presenting a carrot cake you’d baked just for them.

when they bust in casually, you’re stood with a grin — stopping them in their tracks. john b’s eyebrows jump up as his gaze rakes over you and jj is quick to fix his cap, licking his lips. “woah—”

“tada! s’me! i’m the prize!” you can barely contain your excitement. small kitten heels with the fluffy ball at the toe tip tapping against the wooden floors. john b is the first to break into a grin, closing in on you.

“you know, i had my suspicions that might be the case, but i didn’t wanna presume…” his voice is warm and deep and you’re already biting your glossy lip, gazing up at him like he hung the moon and stars as he strokes the skin around your waist.

“wow, really guys? on such a holy day?” jj sarks with faux disapproval as if he isn’t actively working his belt off his shorts. you thump your foot lightly.

“guys! you have to try the carrot cake first. worked hard on it.” you’re pouting, fluttering spiky black lashes up at your boyfriends as the darker haired of the two twiddles with the white fluffy bunny ears you’d secured to the top of your head.

“yeah screw that.” jj scoffs. you furrow your eyebrows, john b shooting him a look. “oh you know i love your baking babydoll but right now i got my mind on eatin’ one thing and one thing only.” he approaches with a charming smile, dropping a kiss to your lips as john b works your panties down your legs.

“pussy?” the brunette tilts his head.

“yep, pussy. definitely pussy.”

[tinyundercover]

cassie!

a one-shot about a young borrower girl in the pepper & felix universe <3

you don’t need to have read pepper & felix to read this! :)

word count: 3.3k

Exhaustion hung from Cassie’s small frame. Her boots dragged along the dusty wood beneath her, wobbling with each uneven step. A miserable noise escaped her, and she hugged herself.

The insides of the walls towered over her. Barely nine years old, Cassie had never ventured this far into such an unfamiliar place, especially not on her own. 

She whimpered before she could control it, and suddenly the wall besides her slammed into her shoulder, sending a sharp pain rocketing through her body. It took a few seconds for her to register that she had fallen against the wall, and she winced in response, rubbing at the soft sleeve of her pale dress as she stumbled back to her feet.

A distant rumbling sound found its way into the air, and Cassie’s lips tightened. Although she had spent most of her life living outside, she would recognize the sound of human footsteps from a mile away.

She supposed she had ventured her way into some sort of human living-space, but she hadn’t exactly had a choice, considering the thunderstorm that had descended upon her outside. 

As long as I stay in the walls, I’ll be fine, Cassie thought decidedly, although the aching pain in her stomach offered some objection. 

Within thirty minutes, Cassie stumbled her way into a secluded gap in the walls, large enough to fit multiple borrowers comfortably. Dust coated the floor and walls in a thick gray layer, but it wasn’t anything that the young borrower wasn’t used to. With a swell in her chest, Cassie dropped to her knees and began to unpack her satchel.

She didn’t have much. A blueberry, a thumbtack, a fraying quilt, and a loose hoodie were all that she retrieved, but she immediately felt more comfortable with her belongings laid out in front of her. The child wriggled into her hoodie— a thick, gray article of clothing that her mother had sewn for her a few months ago— and pulled the hood up, concealing the light curls of her short hair. 

After taking a nibble of her blueberry— not too much, of course, her mother had drilled into her just how important it was to ration her food— Cassie wrapped herself in her quilt, pulled her thumbtack into arm’s reach, then laid against the hard, cold floor. The nine-year-old’s lashes fluttered as she quickly fell into an uneasy, dreamless sleep. She wasn’t used to being alone like this, but she was strong. She was almost ten years old.

She’d be okay.

—

Two days had passed, and the thunderstorm outside failed to cease. Cassie was, inevitably, trapped inside this building.

The walls had become a lot more daunting the longer she spent alone. Cassie shivered, leaning against the wood frame. Thoughts of her mother drifted through her mind, but she firmly shoved them away, despite the anxiety gnawing at her chest. She could do this. She could wait just a little longer for the thunderstorm to pass— then, she could venture back outside and return to where her mom would be waiting with open arms.

It had been entirely an accident, when Cassie had become separated from her mother. She didn’t mean to wander off, and she certainly didn’t intend to trap herself inside this building, where the giant, echoing footsteps of the humans surrounded her constantly. 

Her blueberry had quickly vanished within a day, and her hunger continued to gnaw at her. Cassie chewed her lip, hugging her thin stomach. 

The humans would have food, right?

Almost immediately, Cassie scolded herself, shaking her head until her light brown curls bounced. If her mother had taught her one thing, it was that humans were bad. There was absolutely no reason Cassie should ever put herself close to one… even if it was just to grab something to eat, before the humans even noticed her.

The rumbling footsteps passed by again, and Cassie trembled, pulling her hoodie tight around herself. Once the storm passed, she could go back outside and forget these humans existed. She’d be okay.

—

Cassie was, unsurprisingly, not okay.

Her hunger had been difficult to fight, and with a heavy, terrified heart, Cassie stumbled her way through the walls again, her thumbtack gripped tight in one pale hand. She knew that the thumbtack would be absolutely no match against a human if she were to be caught (a sickening thought), but even the smallest weapon brought her some comfort.

When she finally came across a gap in the walls— a thin, barely noticeable crack reaching from the base of the floor to an inch above Cassie’s head— the borrower halted, twirling her thumbtack nervously. She waited for a moment, and when no stomping sound of human footsteps greeted her, she gathered enough confidence to peek through the crack.

An enormous space greeted her. A ceiling stretched high above her head, so high that the yellow light fixture seemed a tad bit blurry. Unfamiliar pieces of furniture surrounded her, some of which she vaguely knew the names of— a bookshelf, a long blue couch. Everything surpassed her in size, and Cassie suddenly felt very, very out of place.

The borrower chewed her lip, heart pounding. She hadn’t even come across a human yet, but icy fear was already gripping at her wrists and threatening to drag her away. Was this even worth it? 

Her stomach whined, weak and painful, and the nine-year-old rocked nervously on her feet. Her decision made itself, and she squeezed through the gap in the walls and stumbled out into the wide open space of the apartment.

She immediately froze in place, as if a human might descend upon her at any moment, but the apartment seemed emptier than ever. Silence greeted her, and with a nervous flutter in her chest, she walked forward.

Almost immediately, the floor shook with distant footsteps. With a wild gasp Cassie scrambled backwards.

The sight of a real, live human entering the room sent cold terror spiraling down through Cassie’s thin ribs until it settled into a cold rock at the base of her stomach. She stiffened.

This human was tall, unbelievably so. From down on the floor, Cassie could barely make out the definition of their shoulders and face, impossibly high above her, positively towering. They moved with an enormous elegance, walking across the room, and Cassie suppressed a startled noise.

The emptiness of her stomach long forgotten, Cassie spun around and darted back into the safety of the walls. 

—

Cassie understood that being caught by a human meant that she would be killed.

Her mother had drilled that knowledge into her from the moment Cassie was born, and Cassie had spent her entire life avoiding humans. She had grown up outside, in a beautiful garden with her mom, living off of berries and rainwater. An elderly human woman would occasionally appear to tend to the garden, but Cassie and her mother ignored her, for the most part. 

Now, her small hands shook with both fear and hunger, clinging to her thumbtack, while she backed herself into a corner.

Having gone three days without eating anything, Cassie had finally mustered up the courage to explore the human’s apartment again. She had wandered her way into a kitchen, and while she had been surveying the towering counter, trying to figure out how to climb up to the tantalizing fruit bowl which almost seemed to mock her— the floor had rumbled beneath her.

The human— the tall, enormous, terrifying human— had entered the kitchen through the massive front door, and Cassie had scrambled into the corner, where the cupboard met the wall. She was mentally berating herself for not having a proper escape plan, heart racing with terror. Her mother would be disappointed with her— if, of course, she ever managed to see her mother after this.

She felt dizzy. The human didn’t seem to have noticed her yet, despite how close he was to her. He was doing something on the countertop, out of sight from Cassie. Her heart continued to pound, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the human’s towering legs. Two enormous shoes taunted her. If the human barely glanced to his right and spotted Cassie— would he even hesitate to stomp on her?

A weak whimper escaped her lips, and she slumped further into the corner, her thumbtack threatening to slip from her trembling grasp. The hunger was almost more overwhelming than the terror, gripping at her chest. She had never been this close to a human in her life, let alone by herself. A sob grew in her throat.

When the human turned, an enormous shoe approaching, she couldn’t stop the shriek from escaping her.

The shoe halted. Cassie suddenly found that she couldn’t contain her tears— and as the human shifted, a pair of startled blue eyes landing on her, her knees buckled and she collapsed against the wall, sobs wracking her tiny shoulders.

The human made a noise akin to an “oh,” but Cassie barely processed it. She could hardly breathe, icy panic tearing its way through her body, seizing her muscles. Her vision blurred. She couldn’t back away enough from the enormous form standing in front of her.

She let out a choked noise as one of those massive knees suddenly bent, and suddenly the human was kneeling down, bringing himself closer to her, and icy fear shot up into her throat.

“No, wait!” 

The words escaped her before she could control them, and suddenly Cassie was lost to begging and pleading, her voice catching in breathy sobs. Her shoulders pressed into the firm wall behind her. “Please, wait, don’t—! I don’t— I don’t want— please don’t kill me, I— I— please!”

Her vision instantly filled with water and blurred. She couldn’t handle being this close to such a massive being. He was too big. His presence overwhelmed her, overpowering and terrifying, and he was going to grab her at any moment. Within seconds, Cassie would be dead, or trapped in an unrelenting fist, or— or—

“Oh, no.”

Why hadn’t he snatched her up yet? Cassie’s breath hitched, and she peeked her eyes open, only to flinch back. The human took up the entirety of her vision, a blue sweater hovering over her, two enormous hands resting on massive knees. He was speaking, his voice quiet and startling soft, but Cassie barely processed a word that left his mouth. Do humans eat borrowers? Oh, god, please, no. Cassie sobbed.

“Please, just take a deep breath, I’m not gonna hurt y—”

The human’s hand moved, and before Cassie could think, she bolted.

She didn’t exactly have anywhere to go; while she would have preferred to sprint away from the terrifying human, she had no choice but to stagger along the wall, towards the doorway. Her legs moved slower than she would have wanted, due to the hunger ebbing at her body, but she hoped that she would be fast enough to somehow escape the human in time.

She was not.

The human said something, a quick rush of startled words, and suddenly Cassie was being swept up into a hand.

A hand.

“No!” Cassie shrieked, panic coursing through her body like electricity. 

Her arms lashed out in terror, and the human flinched as soon as the point of her thumbtack made contact with his palm, leaving a red streak in its wake. 

Unsurprisingly, her thumbtack was useless against a hand three times her size. Despite the initial wince and the soft “ow” from above her, it took no effort for the human’s other hand to descend upon her, gently pinching the scarlet blade of the thumbtack just as she was preparing to slash again. Cassie let out a strangled gasp as her only weapon was tugged effortlessly from her grasp, and she wept, tears pouring freely down her face.

“I’m sorry,” she wheezed, crumpling back into the human’s enormous, powerful fingers. “I’m so sorry, I’m so— please don’t hurt me, please, please, I’m sorry, I don’t want to die, please—“

She felt like a fool for attacking him. The human had trapped her in his hand, and the very first thing she did was give him more reason to hurt her. She could barely handle this human looking at her; there was no way she’d survive him being angry. Her stomach lurched.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Cassie choked out, burying her hands in her loose curls. “Please. I’m so sorry.”

“Wait,” the human said, voice hushed, and Cassie flinched back. It was difficult to even meet his blue gaze as it searched her tiny trembling form. “Wait, don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

“I’m— I’m sorry.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Cassie was very aware of the fact that she was being cupped in two powerful hands, both of which greatly surpassed her in size, but they hadn’t snapped shut on her yet. She was on the verge of blacking out, her weakness and hunger and terror overwhelming her. 

“I promise you’re safe,” he continued, and vaguely Cassie wondered why he seemed so worried. Surely, he wasn’t scared of her. 

He could do anything he wanted to her. He knew that, right? She certainly did. 

Cassie took a deep, shuddering breath, desperately scrubbing at her wet face. The human merely shifted his shoulders and she flinched, then broke off into choppy breaths. 

The human’s gaze flickered with worry. “How… old are you?”

If she didn’t answer his question, would his gentleness disappear? Cassie swallowed thickly. She supposed she should be lucky that he was holding her so delicately, the way a human would hold a trembling baby bird.

“I’m nine.”

“Nine?” The human echoed in surprise, his large shoulders jerking. “Oh, no.”

Cassie stayed silent, hugging herself. An enormous blue gaze scoured her small form, seeming hesitant. If Cassie didn’t know any better, she would think that this human appeared to be afraid of her. The massive hands enveloping her form shook slightly underneath her.

“What’s… your name?” He continued after a moment of chewing his lip. “I’m Felix.”

She blinked up at him, heart racing. She was still expecting him to turn on her at moment, but instead of flattening her or shoving her in a jar, this human was offering his name?

“Cassidy,” she said weakly. His head inclined towards her to hear, a strand of blonde hair falling between his eyes, and Cassie’s stomach dropped. Fear continued to crawl up through her ribs, and she shrank into herself.

“Cassidy,” the human echoed. “That’s pretty. You… you’re a borrower, right?”

Any semblance of safety crumpled completely. Cassie’s shoulders jerked back, alarm bells shrieking in her mind. 

He knew about borrowers. He must have experience with borrowers. Terrifying images whipped through Cassie’s mind, of borrowers being trapped in cages, experimented on, snatched up between hands. Her throat tightened, and she flinched back, shoulders jerking into the large fingers cupped behind her.

When her blurry gaze refocused on the human above her, his face had softened, blue eyes searching her anxiously. “Woah, hey. It’s okay.”

“Please don’t kill me,” Cassie sniffled, and his brow knit worriedly.

“I’m not going to.” His voice was quiet. After a tense moment, he asked, “would you feel better if I put you on the counter?”

“Wh-what?”

“I just… I… I feel uncomfortable with you down on the floor. Is the counter alright?”

She wasn’t really sure what he was asking, her mind fuzzy with fear and hunger, so she simply nodded. The human paused, taking in her trembling reaction for a moment, before he slowly shifted back.

“I’m gonna stand up now, okay?”

His words sent a tingle of panic down Cassie’s spine, and she stiffened, gaze dropping to the enormous palms below her. When the human’s enormous body moved, knees shifting, she could barely contain a whimper, squeezing her eyes shut.

The sheer power of the human in front of her made her want to cry. She had known that humans were big and scary, but this was absolutely terrifying, how easily he could snatch her up and move her around without a second thought. Perhaps she was lucky that he seemed too fond of her to kill her, in a strange, stressful way.

Her eyes snapped open as soon as the hands below her tipped, and suddenly she was stumbling off onto a smooth counter. Her knees buckled immediately, and she collapsed, hugging her heaving chest. 

He had set her down. She wasn’t exactly sure why he had brought her up closer to eye level— but she was grateful to finally be on a solid surface, away from his overpowering hands.

He stood in front of her, large hands resting delicately on the edge of the counter. She took a few deep, shuddering breaths, which he was clearly willing to let her do before he spoke.

“I’m sorry for grabbing you,” he began gently, and suddenly his hand returned, a thumbtack pinched carefully between his fingers. A jolt of surprise found its way up Cassie’s spine. “Here. I wasn’t gonna keep it, I promise.”

Cassie took a few more uneven breaths, staring up at him, before she cautiously reached forward. Her hands were so shaky that she could barely wrap her palms around the thumbtack, but after a few seconds she had her weapon resting assuredly in her lap, and the human’s hand retreated.

“I know I’ve said this before, but I’m really not going to hurt you.” The human paused, brow furrowing in concern. “I promise. My… my friend is a borrower, too. I wish he was here to talk to you, but he’s visiting his sister right now, and I…”

He trailed off, chewing his lip, and Cassie only blinked. This human considered a borrower to be his friend? 

He could be lying, Cassie reminded herself. He’s probably just making this up. Probably.

“Do you have– I mean, are you… are you alone?” The human asked, hesitating with his words. “Are your parents around?”

Cassie’s lip trembled, and she dropped her gaze. The fight had left her body a long time ago, and exhaustion now dragged her down, weighing heavy in her chest. “My… my… my mom.”

It felt disgusting, to reveal something so personal to a human, but her stomach was aching so badly and she could barely think anymore. As terrifying and overwhelming as he was, this human had offered her a shred of kindness, and after three days of solitude she was desperate for anything. 

The human remained quiet, expression open and inviting, and after a shaky breath Cassie continued. “I lost my mom somewhere. I came in here to hide from the storm. I…I’m sorry for intruding. I just… I’m sorry.”

Concern crossed the human’s face. “The storm started… what, three days ago?”

“I think so,” Cassie sniffled.

“You’ve been alone for three days?”

“Yeah.”

The human paused, blue eyes shining with genuine worry. “You’re nine.”

Cassie nodded helplessly. The human seemed especially agitated about something, but her terror prevented her from asking what it was.

“Have you eaten anything?”

Cassie hiccuped. The onslaught of questions made her head spin, but she was just grateful that the human would rather talk than kill. 

“Not really,” she responded weakly, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress. Her vision darkened again, a stark reminder of how empty her stomach was. “I– I came in here to look for food. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to bother you.”

The human stayed quiet for a moment, blue gaze flickering with an indecipherable emotion. Cassie’s breaths were small and wobbly.

“Let’s find you something to eat,” the human finally said, voice softer than ever. Cassie’s head jerked.

“Huh?”

The human’s large hands approached the fruit bowl, and his attention briefly turned away from the borrower. “You’ll feel better if you ate something,” he said kindly, plucking a grape off of the vine. “I promise.”

Cassie blinked, eyes wet, as Felix turned back towards her. With a swell in her chest she took the grape from his offered hand, and it wobbled between her small palms. “Thank… thank you.”

-------------------

I didn't really intend to create a new character, but Cassie just popped into my brain a few weeks ago and I needed her to meet Felix raaahhhh

I hope you enjoyed this!! I am so happy to be back and I can't wait to start posting writing and art again :P

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

hii i was wondering if you could do logan with reader that owns a cat and the cat acts JUST LIKE HIM and he cant stand it until reader points it out. thank you!!!!

I loved this request! I have my own little cat, so I wanted this to be as well written as possible. I'm sorry it took so long to be posted. I hope you like it! If you do, please like, comment, and reblog! It really helps me with motivation to keep posting on here <3

This is my kitten rocket 🤭

Logan was never afraid to meet anyone in your life. He had met your friends and family; he met your colleagues and even your old roommate, but for some reason, everyone is telling him he should be afraid to meet your cat.

Logan can remember every warning he got from the people in your life when they found out he hadn't met your cat yet. "Oh, that's her baby" "Oh he has brought a lot of joy into her life since she found him, he really is her number one" "That cat hates anyone that comes over-I swear it's crazy" "Her cat is just very territorial, very protective" "Make sure you wear shoes, he goes for the toes."

He scoffed at these warnings, it's still just a cat. He wanted your cat to like him, of course he did but he also wasn't afraid to meet the damn thing. He knew you loved you cat, that was your baby, and you took care of him more than you took care of yourself something Logan hated, but he didn't think it mattered what a cat thought of him.

You usually would stay at his place after a night out, but for the past few dates, you two went back to your place instead. It wasn't a big deal, but you were worried for how your cat would react to a strange man coming into his territory. "He just doesn't like people Lo', I don't want him to lash out at you." He could hear in your voice how worried you truly were, and he tried his best to reassure you that the cat and him would get along just fine.

He lied to you. Logan can't stand that fucking cat and that cat has it out for him too. The first night the cat didn't even come out of hiding, it completely broke your heart and Logan ended up leaving a bit earlier than planned because you were worried for your cat's wellbeing, as he was leaving he heard you cooing at the cat calling him your baby and your handsome man and though he'd never admit it aloud a twinge of jealous did echo through Logan's chest. The next night the cat did come out of hiding, just so he could attack Logan's legs. When Logan didn't kick him across the room like he wanted to you came and put the cat in your bedroom. "I am so sorry!! Are you okay??" You exclaimed while you closed the door to your room before trying to check on his scratches even though they healed before you could. He grumbled... sort of whined a bit too, and honestly, he was enjoying the attention, so maybe he milked the injury? Sue him.

What really pushed him over the edge was your cat literally pushing him over the edge. It was around 1 in the morning, and you had just fallen asleep. Logan was holding you in his arms and trying his best to fall asleep himself when the door to your bedroom creaked open. Logan, now fully awake, sits up, trying not to disturb you and is greeted with a sharp meow and sharp little claws to the stomach. "Mother fucker" Logan mumbled under his breath as he pushed the cat off of him, "why are you even in here?" he asked quietly so he wouldn't wake you but sharply enough to try and scare the cat away. The cat meowed louder than before as if he was arguing back and went to lay on your chest, purring as he curled himself into a ball. Logan was pissed but he tried to stay cool and just ignore the cat, then around 4 in the morning, Logan was awoken to his body meeting your bedroom floor. When he stood up, he looked at the bed and saw your fucking cat in his spot. "That's it." Logan had enough and grabbed a blanket before going to the couch.

You woke him up hours later, very confused as to why he was on the couch and was replaced by a cat in the middle of the night. "Baby?" You asked softly, handing him his cup of coffee, "don't. Just don't." He grumbles and sips his coffee, sending your cat a glare as he walks around smugged.

Logan refuses to lose against a damn cat!

It's just a stupid cat, not even 4 months old yet. So why was he letting its behavior get to him so much? Because it was your cat, and even if Logan wasn't ready to admit it yet he really did love you and for some reason you loved that asshole cat more than the world so for fuck sake that cat will like him even if it is the last thing he does in his very long life.

Honestly, it was truly ironic if Logan took the time to think about it. Your cat was a grump. He didn't want people around unless he allowed them to be around, and even then, he wanted his distance. But not when it came to you. When you were around, that cat was glued to you and had the loudest purr Logan had ever heard, and your cat really did get protective of you. It was something Logan had never seen before. Usually, cats don't care, but if you came home upset, the cat wouldn't settle down until you did, too. If he took the time to really think about it, maybe he could see the resemblance the cat shared with another grump you have allowed into your life that you loved more than the world.

Tagging:

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