#yes i did cry while writing this

[itsadragonaesthetic]

ptsd is so weird and I doubt my own condition so often. It's easy to say I have ptsd for domestic violence. It's easy to see why I act different than other people around drugs and men and weird specific circumstances. But...... I also get terrified of talking to people. Someone from work will call me and I'll feel ice in my veins, wondering what horrible news they're about to tell me. I never feel connection or interest in anything anyone is saying unless they're family. I feel total and complete apathy for people my age. It seems like I'm only able to make decent conversation with people way older than me. If I start to tell someone about some past experience I had with an old friend, I immediately start to cry uncontrollably. I get so angry beyond reason when I see someone exclude me from even the most stupid of tasks. But despite all of that............. I don't know what happened to me. A lifetime of heartbreak, toxic friendships, bad people? That doesn't feel like a clean answer. I can understand having ptsd for the people who raised me and everything they put me through. But I really just have ptsd for........ every intimate circumstance where I'm...... around other people? And I've consistently been laughed at, made fun of, excluded, and hated at every turn through every single stage of my life? It scares me to think about it. The only constant here is me.

[janahanooo]

Yuu: would you still love me, if I go back to my world?

Malleus: until the day I die, I would

Yuu: please, don't say that. You have to get over me

Yuu: I don't want to hurt you any longer

Malleus: *wakes up*

Malleus: ...but how could I not love you?

Yuu: *in their world* *after a few years they adopted children and and named them after their friends in Twisted Wonderland* *is now in a nursing home*

Yuu: my only wish before I die, is to see my love for the last time

Their youngest adopted child: oh... but you said you could never see them again...

Yuu: oh I know, so don't listen to everything that this old lady/guy tells you. My memory isn't that good as it used to be... how sad indeed...

Malleus: *is sitting alone in the trone room, when a bright light is seen from the mirror*

Malleus: there is no way... Yuu?

Yuu: *is as suprised as Malleus*

Yuu: I need to stop wishing for stupid things in this old age

Malleus: but- but how? I thought I would never see you again...

Yuu: silly dragon

Yuu: you're still as young as we parted

Malleus: and you are just as beautifull when you left...

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando Alonso & His Relationship With Cards

I'm sure we're all familar with the cards on the back of Fernando's Vegas GP helmet by now, but did you know his relationship with cards goes a lot deeper?

I. Magic Tricks

You've probably seen or heard someone at least mention Fernando's propensity for card tricks. As far as I can tell he was doing them(publically) as far back as 2003 all the way to as recently as 2018. Even once performing a card trick, with a condom and a teddy bear(!??!?!??!!), in front of Valentino Rossi who said "How was that possible?"(x)

But how did this start? According to James Allen, "Fernando admits to having been heavily influenced by his grandfather, a mercurial figure, who taught him magic and card tricks, still one of his passions away from the race track."(x) And I'm not sure the validity of this one, because I couldn't find an actual source, but apparently he once said: "My parents are responsible for the two things I like doing most - driving and magic tricks. They bought me my first go-kart and a magician's kit."

In several interviews he described it as his hobby off track, and that he loved learning new tricks and surprising others in the garage with them! So clearly cards are pretty important to him both as a hobby but also to who he is as a person since they've been with him just as long as racing has.

II. Card Symbolism in His Helmets

This is the reason I originally made this post, but I thought I should also explain the origins of his card fascination first. As I said, we probably all remember the cards on the back of his helmet in Vegas, but did you know that wasn't the first time he had cards on the back of his helmet?

From 2008-2013, he used to have a pair of cards on the back of his helmets. The symbolisms of the cards themselves as well as the evolution of their design is really fascinating to me! Even more so with the recent development of the card choice in 2023.

Fernando said he wanted to reference his two titles in some way on the back of his helmet and after his friend sent him several ideas, he decided on having two cards(an ace of clubs and an ace of hearts, sometimes pictured with 05 and 06 on them as well), saying: "I picked the cloverleaf [the ace of clubs - Ed] to give me luck, but the only pity is that it doesn't have four leaves!"(X)

2008.

Here's the very first appearance of the cards! They're displayed flat, with the 05 and 06 clearly visible

2009.

Very similar to 2008, but with a slightly different design, and they're maybe a bit more straight with less shadow?

2010.

This is the first major change! I was sad they didn't have the years on them anymore, but then I realized they're sparkly to match with his signature lightning bolts on the top of the helmet!!

2011.

Honestly I'm still somewhat unsure if this is the actual 2011 helmet? It's pretty difficult to find clear photos of the back of helmets from older seasons. It's easiest to find them on replica sites or auction sites so I'm not 100%? But anyways, I like that this has the championship years on the underside of the cards

2012.

This is when I started getting weirdly emotional about the helmets. Do you see how they've progressed from being a centerpoint to being curled up and sad at the bottom of the helmet? Not listing the year anymore??

2013.

Same thoughts as 2012. And after this season, they cease to exist (just like his ferrari chair in the garage, WOAH CALLBACK), until cards make a reeappearance in his Vegas helmet, albeit in a different form

2013 Monaco(Honorable Mention):

For some reason 2013 helmets were easier to find proper pictures of, so I happened to witness this absolute beauty. The creativity of this helmet genuinely blows me away??? Wanting to keep the card motif, but making sure to incorporate it into the rest of the puzzle piece design?? Mwah! There was another special 2013 helmet but they didn't change the cards at all so I really applaud this one

2023 Las Vegas(The Return of The King):

The magnificent return! But look! The cards are different cards! Instead of being two aces, it's now an ace of hearts, a four of hearts(his driver number of course!) and, the, now iconic, representation of himself as a Joker. I literally could not believe my eyes when this helmet was released and I saw the Joker card, what a fucking silly old man....I really wonder if he felt nostalgic having cards on his helmet again or if he didn't think about it all and was just like, "ah cards because Vegas!!!"

III. Why Does This Matter?

*The rest of the post was factual, this is moreso my personal thoughts on the symbolism of the cards/designs

This post spawned from me recently watching the 2010 Bahrain gp and noticing "hey wait a minute...are those CARDS ON THE BACK OF HIS HELMET!?" It's a really tiny detail that's unfortunately covered up by the HANS device pretty much whenever he's wearing the helmet, so it's really difficult to spot! But I became fascinated with the fact that he had cards on his helmet before that recent helmet, and now here we are!

There's something to me about how the design of the cards evolves over the course of six seasons from the cards being front and center to being smaller, more folded up and closer to the bottom of the helmet. As I said, the 2012-2013 ones genuinely made me depressed because it feels, symbolically, like his hopes for getting another Ace are becoming more and more unlikely and falling away until they eventually fall falt and fade away entirely after 2013 and disappear for basically a decade.

But when they return? They're not the same cards! Instead of representing Fernando's championships, they now represent him as a person, displaying his driver number and his persona of being a Joker!! Though I do think it's interesting he happened to keep the Ace of Hearts, even though he talked more about the Ace of Clubs before. I'm not sure it's actually this deep in reality, but I like to think that it's him not letting his championships(and the lack thereof) define him, but rather letting who he is as a person shine and be the centerpoint instead! But on a sadder note, as @suzuki-ecstar said to me, maybe the Aces aren't there anymore because he's lost all hope for a chance at a third Ace entirely :(

[thestressedsimmer]

After spending time cuddling her newest son and yelling through the door to her husband that they'd had a boy? Her Majesty said that she was very tired and handed the babe off to her midwives to crawl into bed with a smile on her face. She seemed almost serene as she did this.

After a few hours, her son was fussing from hunger and the midwives went to wake the queen to offer her the chance to feed him... only to find her not breathing. Not moving at all. There had been no sign of distress, she had just passed.

She gave birth at 7:52 AM and was discovered deceased at 9:52 AM.

The king was immediately summoned and told the bad news; he rushed to his wife's side, unable to believe the emotional whiplash of a healthy son, but....

He sat by her side for some time, but tears would not come. He felt purely numb. Maybe that was his response to having a beautiful son but his wife not making it through. Maybe he reasoned that her suffering was over and she was with their other son.

Or maybe it hadn't truly hit him. But either way? He knew that he had to tell the rest of the family and inform her sister - the duke and duchess lived within walking distance of the castle so she could come and see her sister before the funeral. It would be wrong to not give her that chance.

Duchess Elizabeth was there far faster than she should have been. She brushed right passed the king, not even stopping to pay respects to him. At first she just stared at her sister; it felt strange to see her big sister so ummoving.

Before long, she crawled into bed with her like she did when they were kids. They would often lay in bed and talk about their adventures. When her sister was to wed a prince and heir to the throne it had felt so surreal... And then Joan had made sure she could get her truest wish of traveling by convincing the royal family to give Robert her hand.

"We were supposed to go on this adventure together." She whispered to her sister after some time, clutching onto her. . . It wasn't until she heard the king's voice that she moved.

"She cared for you very deeply, you know. Our last conversation was her fretting about not being able to support you through your pregnancy because she would be in confinement."

Laying her head on her sister's shoulder? Elizabeth nodded. "She is... was the best older sister I could have asked for. I know I worried her. But I thought I would have more time to make that up to her."

"You have nothing to make up to her, Lizzy."

There was a long pause then and Louis wondered if he said something wrong, but then....

She threw herself in his arms and squeezed him tightly. No more words were said between them, they just shared each other's grief and pain.

Outside of the door, the princess was avoiding going in to see her sister-in-law. This is by far the first death in the family, but somehow this felt the hardest.

Maybe because Joan had helped her through those other deaths. The queen often held her own head high and held the princess' hand through saying her goodbyes and even would teach her hymns from Henford-On-Bagley; the songs from there were very different than songs from Willow Creek.

Her mother, la reine mère, knelt down beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I can't do it, mère. I can't... I can't... She can't be gone."

"I'm afraid that's not how things work, princesse." The older woman said softly, squeezing Ysole's shoulder. "You will never forgive yourself if you don't say goodbye. Come with me, I'll even go first to show you that it isn't as frightening as it seems."

Entering the bedroom, she walked over to her daughter-in-law's side. They weren't as close as she was with her other daughter-in-law, but she had truly cared for the girl. Her mother's heart ached when she struggled with her grandson's death and she could only be grateful for how she had taken Ysole under her wing.

"You have been a great queen. Willow Creek thanks you." She whispered to her. She knew the younger woman had worried if she was a good enough queen. . . So if there was one message she wished she could hear before she passed on to Paradise? It was that.

Ysole mirrored her mother's movements, stepping over and placing her hand on Joan... She was trembling. But her mother was right. She needed to say goodbye to her.

"I. . . I'll miss you. And I'll miss our games of chess and late night talks and your stories and... and the songs... I'll have to try to remember them on my own now.... and. . . and. . ."

She spun around and threw herself into her mother's arms, starting to sob. It felt odd to feel her sister-in-law so stiff and cold. But she also seemed so peaceful at the same time.... It all hurt her head.

"Mère, I can't do anymore. Do you think she'll be angry with me? Or hurt?"

Her mother sighed softly and hugged her as tightly as she could. "No, my dear. I think she'll just be happy that you came to say goodbye. And very proud of you for handling it so well."

On that note, she picked up the crying young girl.

Elizabeth decided to go with them to try and fill Joan's role with calming the princess. On top of all of that, they women knew that they had more chances to say goodbye to the queen at her funeral.

Her husband? This was the only chance he got. Kings did not attend funerals, after all.

[spending-life-pretending]

i’m sure sex is great but nothing can match the power i feel when i figure out the plot twist before the characters do

[autumnoakes]

man... rhoam's "redemption" in aoc really sucked, huh?

like botw SHOWED us, several times, how much pressure rhoam put on zelda to unlock her powers, despite her telling him, several times, that it wasn't working. he got angry and banned her from doing not only something she saw as useful, but something that she was clearly very interested in and passionate about because she "wasn't dedicating enough time to her prayers." yes, his diary expresses regret for it, but at the end of the day, if zelda saw that it wouldn't mean much to her. the actions rhoam took, and the way zelda grew up under so much pressure that she nearly died as a child in one of the springs (this is in urbosa's diary, iirc) mean so much more than his regrets and his intentions. it took him nearly 10 years to realize that he fucked up, and by that point it was too late. the calamity had returned, and rhoam had lost any chance he had at making things right with zelda.

meanwhile, in aoc, all that's there is some half-hearted scene in the temple of time that's supposed to make everything better? yes, aoc had a very different and arguably better outcome than the calamity that led to botw, but the damage was still done by rhoam. it's still the same hurts and abuse and trauma that he put his daughter through all because of the prophesized calamity.

[the-meaning-iz-42]

I just finished watching Good Omens season 2 and just why?

Why?

whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

If there isn't a third season that god damn fixes this mess I'm going to have to bend reality and get those two fools to talk to each other and kiss goddanmmit.

[theraggedygirl11]

I just wrote a scene with a nameless character in my fic and it made me cry so much-

My Jance fic is killing me

My brain: how much do you want to suffer?

Also my brain: YES

Also, I'm currently at +27k words, my longest work for now

[thiefbird]

Happy Friday! I'm not sure what pairings you're into but since I saw your blog title was Anders Trash, how about "[They] looked into my eyes and uttered four simple words. Those words changed everything." for him?

Happy Friday! This one is long and bittersweet: Kanders and pre m!Handers for @dadrunkwriting

~~~

Hawke had stopped in at the Darktown clinic on his way back from the Wounded Coast, as usual, pockets and pack filled near to bursting with threadbare scavenged clothes and herbs. He'd offered Anders coin, too, when he'd gotten his first profits from the Bone Pit, but the man steadfastly refused any pay but his cut of any work he tagged along for.

Hawke probably would have found his refusal irritating if he hadn't been head over heels in love with him, but he'd long since accepted that he was incapable of being objective where Anders was concerned, so he called it selfless, and chose to hunt down and carry pounds and pounds of elfroot, embrium, and orichalcum back from each journey out of the city.

It was a rare quiet day in the clinic; good weather meant that there were less illnesses, and less accidents from slipping on wet stone. Lirene was rolling bandages--made from previous selections of torn trousers--in the corner, and against the back wall, Anders was bent over a fire, stirring a small pot of simmering green liquid.

He looked back over his shoulder at the clank of Hawke dropping his helmet on a cot, and smiled warmly. "The wandering hero returns! How was the coast?" he asked, pulling the potion off the fire with his bare hands.

Hawke cringed, even as he recognized the pattern of frost protecting Anders' palms. "Less bandit-y than it was a week ago, at the very least. Less full of herbs, too: between myself and Merrill, I think we picked a tree's worth of elfroot," Hawke joked, slipping his pack off his shoulder and dropping it, exaggerating the effort it took to hold it.

Anders' eyes widened as he saw the bulging pack. "Tell me that's not all elfroot, Hawke," he muttered, setting his pot on a flat stone and moving to take a closer look. "I don't know if I have enough space to dry that much."

"No, not all. Found you some stuff to turn into rags and bandages, too, and the orichalcuk and embrium you needed." He paused, hand in his pocket as he debated with himself, as he had the entire walk back.

Merrill had been the first to spot it, crouching in thy grass to peer curiously at the tiny white flowers. "I've never seen these before!" she'd said, waving Hawke and Varric over. "Is it useful? It's very pretty!"

Hawke had recognized the white petals and red center from his father's botanical compendium, the one he'd stolen from the Gallows the night he'd eloped with Leandra. "It's Andraste’s Grace, I think. It, uh... it's not really useful for humans, but it can be used in a potion that can cure the Taint in mabari."

Merrill had looked a little disappointed as she slowly straightened up. "I guess we had better leave it, then," she'd murmured reluctantly. "If we can't use it."

Varric made a soft noise in the back of his throat, and deftly plucked one of the myriad blossoms. "Nonsense, Daisy. No one said you can only have useful flowers." He bowed dramatically, holding the flower towards her, and Merrill giggled as she took it from him.

"Thank you, Varric. Do you think Anders would like some? He spends so much time in his clinic, and i know it's in the nicer part of Darktown, not the very sewery bit, but I think some flowers would help."

And that was how Hawke came to be standing awkwardly in Anders' clinic, a bouquet of Andraste’s Grace oh-so-carefully tucked in a pocket, the image of a nobleman preparing to court a blushing maid. The idea was so ridiculous he nearly left, but...

No. He wouldn't back out now. He couldn't. Knowing his luck, Merrill would ask Anders if he'd liked the bouquet, and that would be worse.

"I also found these," he muttered, pulling the small, brilliantly white flowers from his pocket as he carefully avoided Anders' eyes. "Andraste’s Grace. I- we- Merrill and I thought they might cheer up the clinic."

There was a too-long pause, and Hawke risked a passing glance at Anders' face. The older man's expression was indecipherable, and Hawke felt himself flush. "If you don't like them, or you're allergic, or... I'll just leave. I'm sorry," he mumbled, turning towards the door. Maybe he'd forgotten some important meaning in the years since he'd read about them, and he'd just told Anders to go to the Void, or threatened to burn him like the flowers' namesake.

"No, no, wait. Hawke!" Anders called, voice cracking miserably on his name. "They're beautiful. I just..."

Another quick glance up from the floor revealed the unmistakable gleam of unshed years in Anders' eyes as the mage dropped into his rickety chair. "They were his favorite flowers. Karl's. He'd found a clump the day his magic manifested."

Hawke swallowed down the instinctive groan of self-loathing. Trust him to pick the most emotionally loaded bouquet in the all of Thedas. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't be," Anders said after clearing his throat. "I've... I've never seen any in person. They really are beautiful...

"He always said he'd find a way to give me one, once we got out. Fanciful plans, realistic ones, they all had that in common: once we were free, really free, we would find Andraste’s Grace." He choked on a sound that could have been a laugh or a sob, and absently spun the lyrium-banded ring he'd taken from Karl's corpse.

Hawke stepped closer, setting the bundle of tiny flowers on the desk in front of Anders. "You were planning to run?"

Anders chuckled humorless. "I'd already run five or six times before that. They always caught me again; phylacteries are a crueler evil than any blood magic Merrill or Surana could ever wield. But this time, this time we were going to run together.

"One of the Templars thought it was romantic," Anders continued, spite tingeing his voice. "She said she'd leave a door to the outside unlocked for us. We'd go north, Tevinter or Rivain, somewhere the Chantry couldn't get us, and we'd be free."

Hawke didn't want to ask. He'd been there for the ending of this story, that horrible, heartbreaking night. But he'd never heard Anders talk about Karl before. "What happened?" he asked, barely louder than a whisper.

Anders didn't answer immediately, brushing his thumb back and forth over the petals. "Changed her mind. Told the Knight-Commander, the First Enchanter. Told them we were- that we planned to run. They sent him to the Gallows that night; he didn't even get to pack.

"She was the one who told me. The next morning; she woke me up, stood over me in my bed. She looked me in the eyes and said four simple words. 'Thekla's left for Kirkwall.' Those words changed everything."

Finally, Anders picked up the flowers, holding them to his face and inhaling their delicate scent. "We're free, Karl," he whispered, barely audible; Hawke felt like the intruding third wheel to Anders and his overwhelming grief. "We're free of them for good, and I have Andraste's Grace."]

[daylillie]

OCD really does not want me to eat right now. Like I got over *insert health fear* that caused me to barely eat. Now happily enjoying a meal then I taste something repugnant so obviously it's *insert old contamination fear resurfacing* Spit it all out. I want to wash my mouth out with soap. Looked like an idiot with my tongue out trying to decide if I should spit until I convince myself it's okay to swallow or..actually wash my mouth out with soap. So, I'll be at the sink for the next hour spitting.

But hey guys, remember I'm so OCD lol it's like a superpower. This is amazing I can't believe no one is calling me to organize their house.

[lostinanothersmemories]

yeah david being happier and being able to manage the anniversary… jump cut to darlin in their apartment alone clutching the old phone they’ve protected with their life staring at the last text from gabe simply saying

“Just don’t give up on me kiddo” sent Sept. 3, 2017 at 8:47 pm

[bungee-gum-b1tch]

so 3.3 happened… what the fuck hoyoverse

rambling in the tags cuz i have way too many thoughts about this

[tecnestheim962]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THE PAIN. THE ANGST. THE ANGUISH. THE “You’re all I have.” THE “hi.” “Hey.” THE WAY HE TALKS TO HER AND ABOUT HER IS SO OSCAR CODED IT HURTS. HOW DARE.

Genuinely don’t know if I’ll ever recover from this.

"Look, whatever you're thinking... do me a favour. Don't let me go."

rosegarden transistor au because them being separated in canon isn't enough. i need to make them yearn in alternate universes too, apparently.

[bugunlikeanangel]

googles “is it normal to feel like you’re tricking people into thinking there’s something inside you when you’re actually completely hollow - empty - on the inside and you feel like if they get any closer they’re going to find out”

[selfcarecap]

✧ Manipulative best friend!Logan with a corruption kink

warnings: smut 18+, this is not a dark fic, Logan isn’t truly manipulative but we have a very naive/innocent/inexperienced reader; first time masturbation, JOI, handjob, fingering (in front of a mirror), first kiss, pet names (bub, baby, my girl, good girl), Logan doesn’t always fully ask for consent but if he did reader would want it, so those are the type of vibes, Logan takes advantage of the situation but reader is into him too, it’s implied that reader is a mutant too but powers are not specified, mentions of alcohol, reader wears Logan’s (big) shirt, Logan is a bit gross 

This kind of got out of hand lmaoo it was just supposed to just be a short concept but I ended up writing 5.5k words lolll. It’s not a fully fleshed out fic (it’s in full sentences etc but still just kind of loosely written scenes) but I thought I’d still share <33 (gorgeous divider by @anitalenia <3)

Logan knows he wants you from the moment he meets you. He knows he needs you the second you come to the mansion and join the school. But you’re so shy and nervous that he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he tells himself he’ll wait for a bit and let you get used to your new life here first. 

What he isn’t expecting is that you become really good friends in the meantime. Yes, he still wants to fuck you but he also genuinely enjoys your company and cares about you. Logan has a big, fat crush on you and there’s not really anything he won’t do in order to be closer to you.

But the problem is that you’re so innocent and he can’t tell if it’s an act, if you just don’t like talking about sex in front of other people, or if you’re really like this. 

He hears you talking to Storm and Jean one night and Storm is trying to convince you to get a vibrator and you’re asking “what would I need that for? I don’t… y’know”. Storm says “you don’t what? Masturbate?”.

Logan knows exactly what shy expression you’re making even though he can’t see you, and you’re all like “oh my god, don’t say it that loud”. And he knows your pretty face must be getting all hot with embarrassment and the thought alone turns Logan on to no end. It’s quiet for a bit and Logan gathers that Jean reads your mind, and she confirms to Storm that you’re not lying.  

Logan can only hear the conversation because he’s in the kitchen and you’re all in the room next to it, but some students come in so he can’t keep eavesdropping, as much as he wants to. And he knows there’s no way you’re continuing the conversation if he’s in the room, so he has to give up for the night. He tries to ask Storm the next day about what you said and she just calls him a pervert and says to ask you himself if he wants to know so badly. 

But that’s kind of the thing. He’s become your best friend over the last few months, but there are still some things you’d never tell him just because he’s a guy, even if you don’t see him as more than a friend. Yet.

And Logan only gets more desperate when you’re drunk one evening after a girl’s night and you’re knocking at his door. It’s really late but Logan lets you in of course. You’re crying a bit and he makes you sit in his bed and takes off your shoes and slides off your jacket while you hiccup something unintelligible. 

He sits down with you and you can barely focus on what you’re saying, and then you get up mumbling about your uncomfortable tights and your skirt and suddenly you’re in front of him in just a top and panties. Logan has to gulp down a moan as he stares at the flesh of your thighs and the rolls on your belly and all he can think about is devouring you whole – until he hears you mention the conversation with Storm and Jean from the other day, “wait, what was that?”

You pout, “Well I was talking to them and turns out apparently I’m the only woman in the world that doesn’t masturbate and– and Jean went home to Scott, and Storm went home with someone she met at the bar and I’ve never even done anything with a guy, not even with myself. I just feel left behind.”

And Logan tells you something about how you’re just a late bloomer and there’s still time, because that’s what he thinks you want to hear, but you tell him it’s condescending. You don’t want to be a late bloomer, you just want to have sex. And oh– Logan can help you with that.

He has to do his absolute best to keep calm and not mount you immediately, but you’re drunk so that’s what’s stopping him. He might manipulate you a little to get what he wants but he’s not that bad. He asks “you don’t like touching yourself?” And you just shrug and say “dunno”. 

“You never feel an ache between your legs?” Logan asks, keeping so calm it’s painful. And he can practically feel the heat melting off your face at the question as your eyes dart around the room, “I don’t know, sometimes”.

 “And you don’t touch yourself?”

You shrug again, looking everywhere but at Logan, “I never really know what people mean when they say that. I, like, touch myself and it feels nice but that’s it.” 

Logan smiles, “how long do you touch yourself for?” 

“I don’t know, a few seconds.”

And he chuckles and says “it’s normal that you don’t get anywhere in a few seconds, bub.” 

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” you manage to meet his eyes briefly but look away again as you sit on your hands shyly.

“You ever watched porn?” Logan asks and your eyes go wide as if he’s just committed the worst sin known to womankind in front of you and you hug your legs and say “noo, I would never. I’m not, like, a pervert.”

Logan laughs, “Porn isn’t just for perverts. There’s more to it than choking and bondage, there’s tame stuff.” You just say “well I’ve never watched any.” 

“Maybe you should.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” 

He can tell you’re getting a bit ashamed and while he would love to train that shame out of you when it comes to sex, now isn’t the time when you’re drunk in his bed at 2AM. 

“You wanna go to sleep?” He asks, failing to resist giving a small squeeze to your knee. Your eyes fly to his hand there, gaze lingering on his fingers even as he pulls them away. You nod after a few moments, and Logan reaches out to wipe away the remnants of your tears and says “you wanna sleep in my bed? We could cuddle”. 

You grin like a child who’s just tried ice cream for the first time at his suggestion and he gives you a bigger shirt of his so you don’t have to sleep in that small, tight top you’re wearing. You pull off your top without warning and then he’s looking at you in just your underwear and he feels like he’s died and ascended to heaven even though he’s probably more likely to go to hell with the thoughts he’s having about you right now. 

You cast a shy glance over your shoulder as you undo your bra and Logan wills himself to shut his eyes, putting his hand over them because he knows otherwise he’d look.

He only wants to fuck you more when he sees you in his shirt though, and he’ll definitely have to go to the bathroom to jerk off once you’ve fallen asleep. Except that you snuggle against his side so cutely, head resting on his shoulder with a leg thrown over his. 

You’re fast asleep before he can even say good night and when he moves to get up you move closer, and now he’s got your plush tits pressed up against his side and your arm over his waist. A tent has formed in his pants and he feels pathetic that he’s measuring the distance between your elbow and his crotch, silently willing you to move just a few inches. 

He’s so horny that he’d feel no moral qualms at jerking off right next to you. He’d cum so quickly with you pressed to his side, but he wouldn’t know how to explain it if you woke up. He doesn’t want to scare you away. So he pulls away to get up, and you wake up and whine when he stands up, telling you he just has to pee to which you grumble, and you grab his pillow to cuddle with instead. 

He jerks off shamelessly, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His spit slicked-palm is starting to get loud as he strokes his cock to thoughts of you, but he doesn’t care if you hear. You probably wouldn’t know what he’s doing anyway with how innocent you are. 

He doesn’t even have to fantasise about any sexual scenario with you. Thinking about the pretty smile you have whenever you look at him is enough to have his fists drenched in his cum as he jerks himself off with both hands to stroke his entire length. 

He can’t hold back the small moan that spills over his lips when he cums, torn between hoping you heard and hoping you didn’t. Logan washes his hands and rejoins you in bed. 

He takes a moment before he slips under the covers, taking in the sight of you in his bed, imagining you’re his and that it’s the norm for you to sleep together rather than an exception. You stir as the mattress dips with his weight, swapping the pillow of his that was clutched between your arms for his bicep that you hold onto instead. You’re way too gone to have heard any of what he just did, and for a moment he feels dirty for thinking about you the way that he does. 

It doesn’t last long, of course, as he dreams of you most nights. He can’t feel bad about it though – he’ll take any dream over one of his nightmares (that he hasn’t had since he met you). And if he’s honest it turns him on how innocent and unsuspecting you are of what goes on in his head when he thinks of you. 

-

You wake up still wrapped around his body the next morning. You have a headache and Logan brings you something to soothe it, offering to massage your stiff neck too. You sigh in bliss as soon as Logan’s hands are on you, and he reminds himself that you must be touch-starved. You’ve never touched yourself, let alone felt the touch of another person that went beyond platonic or familial affection. 

He revels in the sounds he pulls from you with ease with the most basic massaging technique there is. He never wants to leave. He started off hovering over the back of your thighs, but he’s been making his way forwards and now his crotch is nestled right against the soft swell of your ass. You either don’t notice that he’s slowly moved or you don’t realise what exactly is pressing into your backside. 

It’s obvious that you’re enjoying his hands on the back of your neck and the top of your shoulders; he doubts there’s anything that could distract you from it. Except if he got hard maybe, but he’s got more self control since he jerked off in the bathroom again after waking up with morning wood and with you by his side, just before he brought you some painkillers. 

“You’re so good with your hands, Logan,” you tell him, voice all raspy, and he smirks at the innuendo you don’t realise you’re making. 

“It’s what my girl deserves,” he says, pulling a smile and a hum from your lips. 

“I’m your girl?” you ask shyly, eyes still closed as his knuckles drag over your skin. 

“O’course you are, bub.” He’s not sure in what way you interpret the pet name but he can tell you like it, hearing how your heartbeat speeds up just that little bit. You like being his, and he likes that. 

-

It’s during a particularly horny evening that Logan comes to your room. He’s jerked off twice today to pictures of you — pictures he’s snuck over the time he’s known you, you smiling as you laugh at a tv show, stretching on the sofa not realising that he’s got his phone out, or that one photo of you smiling all shyly on the day you first met him and he showed you around the mansion. Jean asked to take a picture to commemorate the day you joined them, and he remembers the way he slid his arm around the back of your waist and you placed your hand shyly on his back, smiling all adorably. 

He’s got a picture of you in a bikini from that one time you two went swimming but he keeps that for special occasions. Today was one of those special occasions, and he came all over his phone screen, cursing when he had to clean it afterwards; he even had to get the phone case off and all. 

But you still won’t leave his head for even just a second, so he decides it’s time for the next step. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you with anything, but he also just really wants you. Can’t help it. He’s a selfish man but any man would be if he knew you the way Logan did. He knocks at your door. “Yeah?” you call out. 

You grin when he steps in and closes the door behind himself. You stretch out your arms for a hug to greet him, even though you only saw him a few hours ago. He joins you where you’re sitting on your bed with your laptop. Logan turns the screen towards him, hoping to find something naughty but he should have known better. It’s just some video essay on a topic he’s never even heard of. He shuts the laptop. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” you tell him, genuinely focussed, “If I’m your girl then what are you to me? My boy sounds weird, and my man.. I don’t know.”

He almost forgot that he called you his girl to your face, and he smirks when he imagines you thinking about it these past few days. He lies down on his side, invading your space, almost touching you with how close he is next to you.

 “I can be anything you like, bub.” 

You shrug shyly, “Maybe you’re just my Logan.” 

He’s surprised at how much that turns him on. You being his, that’s one thing. But him being yours? Those two things go hand-in-hand, of course, but he thought you were still a long way off from liking him as much as he likes you. 

It encourages him to ask you what he’s been thinking about for days. He says it casually. “So, had any success touching yourself?” He uses that tame expression so that you’re less embarrassed.

Still, your eyes widen slightly and you immediately start playing with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean,” he smirks, “Don’t gotta be embarrassed around me. We’ve been over this.” Although, for a second he wonders if you even remember the conversation. You were drunk after all, and he considers feeling bad, but then you smile. 

“I know, but… I haven’t tried it since. I’ve thought about it but I still don’t know what to do.” He’s got you right where he wants. 

“Y’know, I don’t mind showing you. You deserve to feel good.” 

You look away, “What would you even show me? And how? Guys are different down there.” Oh, you’re so innocent. He’s having so much fun. 

“I could touch you.” He watches you experience a multitude of emotions as you think about it. Shame, intrigue, resolve. 

“Wouldn’t that be weird for you?” 

“Not at all, don’t worry about me.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure, bub.” 

You look around you, putting your laptop and your phone on your nightstand, “What do I do?” you ask, playing with the blanket. 

“I’ll just touch you a bit, okay? Just get you used to the feeling,” he tells you, both of you sitting up and he pulls your legs around his waist, gently touching all over your inner thighs, squeezing the flesh.

You’re already arching your back, scooting closer to him, and he lifts your shirt up over your hip and sees the wet spot on your panties. He’s not sure if you notice how hard he is under his sweatpants but no one could blame him for that. You’re getting so worked up and he hasn’t even touched you anywhere near your pussy, you’re breathing so heavily and your heart is beating so fast.

“Y’want a kiss, bub?” Logan asks you all sweetly, and you lean in as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your lips on his are messy but eager, and Logan loves that he can feel that it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what you’re doing but you need it – need him. 

But he has to stop at some point because it’s getting harder to not fuck you, so he gently pulls away, and you grin shyly when the kiss is over. Logan leans in one more time for a quick kiss. He pushes you backwards a bit and looks between your spread thighs. You’re so wet. You’re squirming under his gaze.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at the waistband of your panties and your breathing gets shaky when his finger grazes your belly. You bite your lip and nod.

“Good girl,” he says, pulling your underwear down your thighs with one hand, eyes glued to your pussy. You’re so wet and sticky already, and your pussy looks even better than anything he’s imagined – and he’s imagined it a lot.

He wants nothing more than to fuck you, or eat you out at least, but he’s supposed to be showing you how to masturbate, so he lies down next to you.

“So, if you were alone, you might touch yourself like this.” He takes his hand between your thighs, softly touching your clit. You’re leaning into him, head against his shoulder as you watch his big hand between your thighs. It looks so right there. You look to your side and gaze up at Logan, and you can’t help but just kiss him again.

And while you’re kissing, Logan puts his palm on your pussy and starts rubbing you a bit rougher, and you become too distracted to keep kissing him.

“You like when I play with your clit?” he teases you and you nod, hiding your face in his neck. Logan moves down to fuck one of his fingers into you, then two, and you’re whimpering against his warm skin. With his palm still rubbing against your clit, you have your first ever orgasm with Logan and you hold onto him as the pleasure flows through your body.

He keeps going until you put your hand around his wrist to stop him and you shyly smile up at him. “Was that good, bub?” 

You answer with a weak “yeah”, your voice hoarse but you’re smiling and your skin is glowing. Logan pulls his hand away and shows you how your arousal sticks to his fingers, and your eyes search his because you’re not sure if this is a good or bad thing.

Your mouth opens when Logan takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks your taste off them. “Taste so fucking good, baby. You wanna taste yourself?” And he waits patiently until you’ve made your mind up but you nod and let him put one of his fingers into your warm, wet mouth. You suck on it for much longer than necessary and Logan tries to save the image in his brain for later.

He holds you for a bit as you comprehend that you’ve just had an orgasm for the first time in your life. You shyly thank him before he leaves and he makes you promise that you’ll try it again by yourself soon. That was the whole point of this, after all – nothing to do with Logan or anything.

-

Logan thought he’d be satisfied for a bit, but all it’s done is make him even needier for you. You’re so oblivious to all his flirting, and he’s sure you genuinely thought he just wanted to show you how to masturbate the other day. 

Of course, he could just ask you out, but it’s more fun this way. He likes watching you figure stuff out. He wonders how long it’ll take you to realise that he actually likes you, that teaching you how to jerk off maybe wasn’t only in your best interest but in his too.

He’s a bit pathetic when it comes to you at this point, though. As much as he’s teasing you, it’s also teasing him. It’s a bit of a low point, but he pretends to be in a bad mood to get your attention.

You come to his room in the late afternoon when you haven’t seen him all day, and you’re so kind and so caring and immediately worried when you see him sprawled in bed in his pyjamas that consist of grey sweatpants and a white shirt.

“You okay? What happened?” you close the door and sit on his bed immediately.

Logan fake sighs, suppressing a smile as he pouts exaggeratedly. “Nothing, bub. Don’t you worry about me.” He squeezes your knee to reassure you, and he watches you perk up at his touch.

“You know you can always talk to me,” you smile kindly, and he wants to kiss you so badly. He doesn’t usually talk about emotions and feelings all that much, but you’re always trying to get him to open up because it’s good for him, so he knows he’s got you with this.

“I’m just feeling a bit down today. That’s all. Don’t wanna bother you with my problems.”

“You’re not bothering me. I’m always here for you.”

He watches you gnawing on your lip as you think about what to say next, and Logan waits curiously. “Have you uh, jerked off today? I think an orgasm would cheer anyone up, if it feels as good as you made me feel the other day.”

And Logan’s all like “I’ve tried but it’s been so long since a woman touched me, and my own hand just isn’t doing it for me anymore.”

He gets hard immediately when you perk up, smiling with your sweet expression and saying, “I could help you! I hate seeing you so sad”.

And Logan pretends, saying “no, bub, I’d never ask that of you,” but you sit up on your knees and say “I really wouldn’t mind! And I owe you for last time anyway.”

“If you’re really sure?” 

You nod sweetly and brush your hair out of your face and ask, “where do you want me?”

And even just you asking that is something that will stay in his mind for a long time. He feels like you’d do anything he asked of you right now and it’s already driving him crazy. He says “just next to me here, bub. Yeah there is fine”. 

You lean in to kiss him and he only pulls away out of surprise, and you’re blinking back at him with wide eyes, apologising, “It’s just cause you kissed me last time, I thought— I thought it’s part of–”

“Yeah, baby, it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me again.”

You give him a cheeky smile and nod, “of course I wanna kiss you. You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you”. 

Logan grins and bites his lip and says “me too, bub”, and leans in and kisses you again, basically attacking you with his mouth. He can tell it’s getting a little much for you with the way he’s eating you alive so he stops himself and asks “was that too much?” 

You shake your head, “just don’t know how to kiss like that yet.” And he likes that. Yet. Maybe he can sneak in some kissing lessons at some point, just to show you how it’s done of course, no other reason. 

You look down at his lap then and it’s obvious how hard he is. “Y’wanna you touch it like this first?” he asks you, grabbing himself over his sweatpants, the outline becoming clearer.

And you nod so eagerly, but get a bit shy when you’re touching his cock, one of your knees pulled up to your chest as you palm him over his sweatpants. “It’s so big,” you marvel, oblivious to how much this is affecting Logan.

“You wanna see?”

You tell him yes and he pulls the waistband down, and you lean closer when he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking himself just a few times to relieve the pressure. 

You bring a finger to his mouth like he did for you the other day, and he chuckles, “that won’t be enough, bub”. Your cheeks burn when you say “oh”.

“Here,” he moves your hand so your open palm is facing him and he spits into it.

“Now do this,” Logan tells you, taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock, guiding you up and down with your spit-slicked palm. You watch in awe as you jerk him off, his hand never leaving the back of yours.

He could cum immediately like this, but he tries to savour the feeling a bit longer.

“Does it feel good?” you ask him.

“Yeah, doing so well, bub. Think you can do it by yourself?”

You shake your head with a smile. Yes, you could do it by yourself, but you like the feeling of him guiding you, setting the pace and intensity. He grins and continues, squeezing your hand tighter so that your grip on his cock tightens too.

Logan lets you jerk him off a bit longer before he gives in. He’s proud of you for not pulling away in surprise when he cums, coating your hand and his in his cum as ropes of white shoot over your skin and onto his shirt. He lets go of your hand to pull off his shirt and watches you examine your hand full of Logan’s cum.

“Can I taste it?” you ask in a quiet voice, and Logan just about gets hard again.

“Yeah,” he tells you, but pushes his own fingers into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his two fingers and suck the cum off, and Logan can’t help but push them further into your mouth, making you giggle. You pull his hand away after a bit, only to lick your own fingers. He uses the clean part of his shirt to dry your hand off after, and you lie down to cuddle him.

“Do you feel better?”

Logan chuckles, “Yeah, bub, I feel better. Thanks.”

“Good,” you grin, proud of yourself. Logan’s proud of you too.

-

It’s still the same day when you come to his room the next time. You left after a bit to go to sleep, but now there are knocks on Logan’s door that he recognises as yours before you say anything.

You enter his room in your pyjamas – a big shirt – and some fluffy socks, a plushie under your arm. You look so oh so innocent that he almost feels bad for corrupting you. You come in, close the door, and sit on his bed again, legs dangling off the side of it. He could really get used to you being in here.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, but you ignore him, hugging your plushie for comfort.

 “I… can you maybe…” you let out a sigh, “I tried to masturbate but I can’t do it by myself. Can you show me again?” 

Maybe you’re not so innocent anymore. He chuckles and tells you of course, and he’s starting to wonder if you’ve caught on to the game that he’s playing, and if you’ve joined him, but he’d still bet money that you really are this naive. Logan pulls his full length mirror in front of his bed, not too close, but close enough that you can see yourself in it. 

He moves to lift your shirt to get your panties off, and his heart skips a beat as he’s greeted by the sight of your bare pussy, already glistening.

“It was easier to come with them already off,” you say, and he reaaally has to restrain himself so he doesn't bend you over and take you right here.

You drop your stuffed toy to the side of Logan’s bed as he sits you in front of the mirror, getting behind you, putting his legs either side of you.

“God, you’re so pretty.” He can’t stop himself from saying it as he makes you look at yourself in the mirror, legs spread.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Logan,” you say, shying away from looking in the mirror.

“You can do it, bub. I got you, okay?”

You’ve turned around to look at him better, and he chuckles when he gets it.

“Is this what you need?” he asks as he leans in to kiss you, and you moan yes into his mouth. He loves you so fucking much.

His dick is already so hard and he’s not sure if you can feel it pressing into your ass, but either way you’re not complaining. He takes your chin to make you face yourself in the mirror, and he can’t get enough of seeing you two in it together – the way he’s sitting behind you like this, imagining other positions you two could be in.

“Here,” he pushes his finger into your mouth, even though you’re already wet enough, watching you suck on it eagerly. His finger stays in your mouth much longer than necessary.

He starts gently rubbing your clit in circles, and you squirm in his arms that are around you, one on your waist, the other between your legs.

“I did that too, but it feels better when you do it,” you mumble after a while, clearly enjoying it but unsure what you were doing wrong when you did it yourself.

“Try it.” Logan takes your hand, and makes you do it yourself. You’re squirming with him watching you like this, but it is useful to sit in front of the mirror, copying how he played with your pussy just moments ago.

Logan’s not blind to how wet you are, at having him watching and guiding you, and he can’t help it as he reaches into his boxers to jerk off. He doesn’t get his cock out but he’s not hiding it. You can see the movement of his arm in the mirror and you might even be able to feel it at your back, as Logan’s fist grazes your shirt every now and then as he strokes himself.

But you’re so focussed on looking between your own legs that Logan is genuinely not sure if you’ve noticed him jerking off, and the sounds of your wet pussy are louder than his hand on his cock.

“I… I can’t,” you whine after a bit, taking your hand away from your pussy, but Logan is close, and he wants you to cum too.

He keeps jerking off, and he sees you noticing it, sitting up a bit taller but you don’t seem to mind. You’re smiling, biting your lip.

“Yeah, you can, baby. Here, we’ll do it together.” He keeps a hand on his cock, reaching around you to put your hand back between your legs, and then he pushes two of his fingers into your pussy, fucking you with them.

“You close, bub? I’m close,” he says, and the idea of cumming together with Logan makes your pussy squeeze around his fingers, so you do your best to recreate the pattern on your clit that Logan showed you, rubbing it in circles until you get the right angle.

“Good girl, that’s it. So tight around my fingers. Come on now.” Logan’s so close he has no idea how he’s still holding off, sloppily jerking his cock with one hand and fucking your pussy with his fingers on the other hand.

You lean your head back, landing on Logan’s shoulder, as your orgasm pulses through you. Logan can feel your pussy spasming around him, and he lets go too, cumming over his hand and his boxers.

You’re both out of breath for a while after, barely moving.

“Y’did it, bub,” he kisses the top of your head, and you smile at him through the mirror, turning to press a messy kiss to the side of his face. He won’t take that though, so he grabs your face, smearing some of his cum on your cheek, and pulls you to face him for a proper kiss. You smile against his mouth as you make out.

You sleep in his room again that night, but he can’t say it feels like you know that he likes you yet. He’ll have fun watching you figure it out soon.

-

✧ reblog and let me know your thoughts for Logan to appear in your dreams tonight <3

[marshallflynn]

I'm so soft for them 🤧

Promises

He should know better. 

Wolfwood has seen Vash make promises, or hear about the ones he has made in the past. He has also seen the end of each one and how every single time the outcome is less than what was promised. 

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